atu_id,tale_title,provenance,notes,source,text,data_source,date_obtained
910B,The Highlander Takes Three Advices from the English Farmer,Scotland,NA,"Cuthbert Bede [pseudonym for Edward Bradley], The White Wife: With Other Stories, Supernatural, Romantic, and Legendary (London: Sampson Low, Son, and Marston, 1865), pp. 141-46.","In one of the glens of Cantire there lived a young and loving pair who were blessed with one child, a fine healthy lad. They strove hard to provide themselves with the necessaries of life; but their croft was sterile and their crops scanty: and, after many bitter and serious consultations, it was agreed that they should separate for a season, with the hope to make their circumstances better, and that the wife should shift for herself and the lad, and that the husband should travel in search of a situation where he would have food and wages. Their separation was painful; but they comforted themselves with the promise to be true to each other, and to meet again in better circumstances. The husband had an aversion to become a soldier; so he sailed to Greenock, and from thence made his way into England, and traveled on until he met with a worthy farmer, with whom he agreed to work. The bargain was made by signs, for the highlander had no English; but after a time they came to understand each other quite well, and the highlander learned a little English. His master respected his servant very much; and the servant was steady, honest, and industrious in his service. Time passed on, year after year; and every year the highlander left his wages in his master's hands, until he had a pretty round sum to take. At length he prepared to return home to Cantire; and his master laid down all his wages on the table, and said, 'Whether will you lift all your money, or take three advices in its place?' The highlander replied, 'Sir, your advices were always good to me, and I think it better to take them than to lift the money.' So the master took away the money, and gave him these three advices: I. When you are going home keep on the high way, and take no by-way. II. Lodge not in any house in which you see an old man and his young wife. III. Do nothing rashly until you have well considered what you will do. Besides these three advices, the English farmer gave the highlander sufficient money to carry him home; and he also gave him a loaf, which he was not to break until he could eat it with his wife and son. Then they bade farewell. After traveling several miles the highlander overtook a peddler, who was on his way to Scotland; so they agreed to keep company with one another, and to lodge at a certain town that same night: but as they were traveling quite agreeably, they came upon a by-way which was a great length shorter than the high road, and the peddler proposed that they should take it; but the highlander would not, for he thought of his master's first advice. Then the peddler said that he was tired with his burthen, and that he would take the short by-way, and wait until his companion had come forward. So they went each their way, and the highlander kept to the high-way until he had come to the place appointed. There he found the peddler weeping, and without his pack, for he had been robbed in the by-way. So this was the benefit that the highlander got by following the first advice of the English farmer. Then they walked on together to the town, the peddler weeping for the loss of his pack, and saying that he knew where they would get good lodgings. But, when they got to the house, the highlander saw an old man and a young wife; so he would not lodge there, for he remembered his master's second advice. But the peddler remained in the house, and the highlander crept into a coal-house in the entry. At midnight he felt some one coming in at the door, and, after remaining a short time, going out again; but, as he passed him in the dark, the highlander, with his knife, cut a bit from the wing of his coat, and kept it. In the morning the cry of murder was heard, and it was found that the old man who kept the house had been killed. The authorities of the town came and saw the dead body, and found the peddler sleeping in a room; and when they searched his pockets, there was a bloody knife found in them; and as he had no pack or money, they concluded he was a false peddler, and had murdered the old man to get his wealth. So the peddler was apprehended and condemned to be hanged; and the highlander accompanied him to the scaffold, and observed among the crowd a young man walking with the young wife of the murdered man; and the young man's coat was of the same color as the swatch he had cut from it in the coal-house in the entry. 'Hang me!' said the highlander, 'if you pair are not the murderers.' So they were apprehended, and acknowledged their crime, and were hanged; and the peddler was set at liberty. And this was the benefit that was got from the High lander following the second advice of the English farmer. It was midnight when the highlander got back home. He rapped at the door, and his wife got up, and recognized her husband, and lighted a candle. Upon that, the highlander saw a fine young man lying in the bed; and he was purposing to step up and kill him, apprehensive that another had taken his place. But he thought on his master's advice, and said, 'Who is yon man?' 'It is our son!' said his wife. 'He came home from his service last evening, and slept in that bed.' 'I should have slain him but for the master!' said the highlander. So this was the benefit he got from following the third advice of the English farmer. The highlander's joy was now at its height. His son arose from the bed; more peats were put on, and a large fire kindled; and the highlander then sought a knife to cut the loaf that he had carried all the way from England. With the first slice he found silver money; and when he had cut all the loaf, he found therein all the wages that would have been paid him by his master. So the highlander got the money and the three advices also; and with the money he stocked a farm and lived comfortably till the end of his days.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
910B,The Prince Who Acquired Wisdom,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 14, pp. 53-56.","There was once a raja who had an only son and the raja was always urging his son to learn to read and write in order that when he came to his kingdom he might manage well and be able to decide disputes that were brought to him for judgment; but the boy paid no heed to his father's advice and continued to neglect his lessons. At last when he was grown up, the prince saw that his father was right and he resolved to go away to foreign countries to acquire wisdom; so he set off without telling anyone but his wife, and he took with him a purse of money and three pieces of gold. After traveling a long time, he one day saw a man plowing in a field and he went and got some tobacco from him and asked him whether there were any wise men living in that neighborhood. 'What do you want with wise men?' asked the plowman. The prince said that he was traveling to get wisdom. The plowman said that he would give him instruction if he were paid. Then the prince promised to give him one gold piece for each piece of wisdom. The plowman agreed and said. 'Listen attentively! My first maxim is this: You are the son of a raja; whenever you go to visit a friend or one of your subjects and they offer you a bedstead, or stool, or mat to sit on, do not sit down at once but move the stool or mat a little to one side; this is one maxim: give me my gold coin.' So the prince paid him. Then the plowman said, 'The second maxim is this: You are the son of a raja; whenever you go to bathe, do not bathe at the common bathing place, but at a place by yourself; give me my coin,' and the prince did so. Then he continued, ' My third maxim is this: You are the son of a raja; when men come to you for advice or to have a dispute decided, listen to what the majority of those present say and do not follow your own fancy, now pay me;' and the prince gave him his last gold coin, and said that he had no more. 'Well,' said the plowman, 'Your lesson is finished, but still I will give you one more piece of advice free and it is this: You are the son of a raja; restrain your anger, if anything you see or hear makes you angry, still do not at once take action; hear the explanation and weigh it well, then if you find cause you can give rein to your anger and if not, let the offender off!' After this the prince set his face homewards as he had spent all his money; and he began to repent of having spent his gold pieces on advice that seemed worthless. However on his way he turned into a bazaar to buy some food and the shopkeepers on all sides called out, 'Buy, buy,' so he went to a shop and the shopkeeper invited him to sit on a rug; he was just about to do so when he remembered the maxim of his instructor and pulled the rug to one side; and when he did so he saw that it had been spread over the mouth of a well and that if he had sat on it he would have been killed; so he began to believe in the wisdom of his teacher. Then he went on his way and on the road he turned aside to a tank to bathe, and remembering the maxim of his teacher he did not bathe at the common place but went to a place apart; then having eaten his lunch he continued his journey, but he had not gone far when he found that he had left his purse behind, so he turned back and found it lying at the place where he had put down his things when he bathed; thereupon he applauded the wisdom of his teacher, for if he had bathed at the common bathing place, someone would have seen the purse and have taken it away. When evening came on he turned into a village and asked the headman to let him sleep in his verandah, and there was already one other traveler sleeping there and in the morning it was found that the traveler had died in his sleep. Then the headman consulted the villagers and they decided that there was nothing to be done but to throw away the body, and that as the prince was also a traveler he should do it. At first he refused to touch the corpse as he was the son of a raja, but the villagers insisted and then he bethought himself of the maxim that he should not act contrary to the general opinion; so he yielded and dragged away the body, and threw it into a ravine. Before leaving it he remembered that it was proper to remove the clothes, and when he began to do so he found round the waist of the body a roll of coin; so he took this and was glad that he had followed the advice of his teacher. That evening he reached the boundary of his own territory and decided to press on home although it was dark; at midnight he reached the palace and without arousing anyone went to the door of his wife's room. Outside the door he saw a pair of shoes and a sword; at the sight he became wild with rage and drawing the sword he called out, 'Who is in my room?' As a matter of fact the prince's wife had got the prince's little sister to sleep with her, and when the girl heard the prince's voice she got up to leave; but when she opened the door and saw the prince standing with the drawn sword she drew back in fear; she told him who she was and explained that they had put the shoes and sword at the door to prevent anyone else from entering; but in his wrath the prince would not listen and called to her to come out and be killed. Then she took off her cloth and showed it to him through the crack of the door and at the sight of this he was convinced; then he reflected on the advice of his teacher and repented, because he had nearly killed his sister through not restraining his wrath.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
910B,The Three Admonitions,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales, (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 41, pp. 157-59.","A man once left his country to go to foreign parts, and there entered the service of an abbot. After he had spent some time in faithful service, he desired to see his wife and native land. He said to the abbot, 'Sir, I have served you thus long, but now I wish to return to my country.' 'Yes, my son,' said the abbot, ' but before departing I must give you the three hundred ounces [nearly 13 francs] that I have put together for you. Will you be satisfied with three admonitions, or with the three hundred ounces?' The servant answered, 'I will be satisfied with the three admonitions.' 'Then listen. First: When you change the old road for the new, you will find troubles which you have not looked for. Second: See much and say little. Third: Think over a thing before you do it, for a thing deliberated is very fine. Take this loaf of bread and break it when you are truly happy.' The good man departed, and on his journey met other travelers. These said to him, 'We are going to take the by-way. Will you come with us?' But he remembering the three admonitions of his master answered, 'No, my friends, I will keep on this road.' When he had gone half way, bang! bang! he heard some shots. 'What was that, my sons?' The robbers had killed his companions. 'I have gained the first hundred ounces!' he said, and continued his journey. On his way he arrived at an inn as hungry as a dog and called for something to eat. A large dish of meat was brought which seemed to say, 'Eat me, eat me!' He stuck his fork in it and turned it over, and was frightened out of his wits, for it was human flesh! He wanted to ask the meaning of such food and give the innkeeper a lecture, but just then he thought, 'See much and say little;' so he remained silent. The innkeeper came, he settled his bill, and took leave. But the innkeeper stopped him and said, 'Bravo, bravo! you have saved your life. All those who have questioned me about my food have been soundly beaten, killed, and nicely cooked.' 'I have gained the second hundred ounces,' said the good man, who did not think his skin was safe until then. When he reached his own country he remembered his house, saw the door ajar and slipped in. He looked about and saw no one, only in the middle of the room was a table, well set with two glasses, two forks, two seats, service for two. 'How is this?' he said. 'I left my wife alone and here I find things arranged for two. There is some trouble.' So he hid himself under the bed to see what went on. A moment after he saw his wife enter, who had gone out a short time before for a pitcher of water. A little after he saw a sprucely dressed young priest come in and seat himself at the table. 'Ah, is that he?' and he was on the point of coming forth and giving him a sound beating; but there came to his mind the final admonition of the abbot: 'Think over a thing before you do it, for a thing deliberated is very fine;' and he refrained. He saw them both sit down at the table, but before eating his wife turned to the young priest and said: 'My son, let us say our accustomed Paternoster for your father.' When he heard this he came from under the bed crying and laughing for joy, and embraced and kissed them both so that it was affecting to see him. Then he remembered the loaf his master had given him and told him to eat in his happiness; he broke the loaf and there fell on the table all the three hundred ounces, which the master had secretly put in the loaf.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
910B,The Three Advices,Ireland,"The same story is found in The Rural Repository, vol. 12-13, new series (Hudson, New York: William B. Stoddard, 1835-36), pp. 107-108.","T. Crofton Croker, 'The Three Advices: An Irish Moral Tale,' Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, vol. 4, no. 173 (May 23, 1835), pp. 131-32.","The stories current among the Irish peasantry are not very remarkable for the inculcation of any moral lesson, although numberless are the legends related of pious and 'good people,' the saints and fairies. The following tale of the Three Advices is the only one of a moral character which I remember to have heard. It was told to me by a professional storyteller, whose diction I have endeavored to preserve, although his soubriquet of 'Paddreen Trelah' or Paddy the Vagabond, from his wandering life, was not a particularly appropriate title for a moralist. The tale is certainly very ancient, and has probably found its way into Ireland from Wales, as it appears to be an amplification of a Bardic 'Triad of Wisdom.' There once came, what of late has happened so often in Ireland, a hard year. When the crops failed, there was beggary and misfortune from one end of the island to the other. At that time many poor people had to quit the country from want of employment, and through the high price of provisions. Among others, John Carson was under the necessity of going over to England, to try if he could get work; and of leaving his wife and family behind him, begging for a bite and a sup up and down, and trusting to the charity of good Christians. John was a smart young fellow, handy at any work, from the hay field to the stable, and willing to earn the bread he ate; and he was soon engaged by a gentleman. The English are mighty strict upon Irish servants; he was to have twelve guineas a year wages, but the money was not to be paid until the end of the year, and he was to forfeit the entire twelve guineas in the lump, if he misconducted himself in any way within the twelve months. John Carson was to be sure upon his best behavior, and conducted himself in every particular so well for the whole time, there was no faulting him late or early, and the wages were fairly his. The term of his agreement being expired, he determined on returning home, notwithstanding his master, who had a great regard for him, pressed him to remain, and asked him if he had any reason to be dissatisfied with his treatment. 'No reason in life, sir,' said John; 'you've been a good master and a kind master to me; the Lord spare you over your family; but I left a wife and two small children of my own at home, after me in Ireland, and your honor would never wish to keep me from them entirely, the wife and the children.' 'Well, John,' said the gentleman, 'you have earned your twelve guineas, and you have been, in every respect, so good a servant, that, if you are agreeable, I intend giving you what is worth the twelve guineas ten times over, in place of your wages. But you shall have your choice. Will you take what I offer, on my word'? John saw no reason to think that his master was jesting with him, or was insincere in making the offer; and, therefore, after a slight consideration, told him that he agreed to take for his wages whatever he would advise, whether it was the twelve guineas or not. 'Then listen attentively to my words,' said the gentleman. 'First, I would teach you this: Never to take a by-road when you have the highway. Secondly: Take heed not to lodge in the house where an old man is married to a young woman. And thirdly: Remember that honesty the best policy. These are the three advices I would pay you with; and they are in value far beyond any gold; however, here is a guinea for your traveling charges, and two cakes, one of which you must give to your wife, and the other you must not eat yourself until you have done so, and I charge you to be careful of them.' It was not without some reluctance on the part of John Carson that he was made to accept mere words for wages, or could be persuaded that they were more precious than golden guineas. His faith in his master was, however, so strong, that he at length became satisfied. John set out for Ireland the next morning early; but he had not proceeded far, before he overtook two pedlars who were traveling the same way. He entered into conversation with them, and found them a pair of merry fellows, who proved excellent company on the road. Now it happened, towards the end of their day's journey, when they were all tired with walking, that they came to a wood, through which there was a path that shortened the distance to the town they were going towards, by two miles. The pedlars advised John to go with them through the wood; but he refused to leave the highway, telling them, at the same time, he would meet them again at a certain house in the town where travelers put up. John was willing to try the worth of the advice which his master had given him, and he arrived in safety, and took up his quarters at the appointed place. While he was eating his supper, an old man came hobbling into the kitchen, and gave orders about different matters there, and then went out again. John would have taken no particular notice of this, but immediately after, a young woman, young enough to be the old man's daughter, came in, and gave orders exactly the contrary of what the old man had given, calling him, at the same time, such as old fool, and old dotard, and so on. When she was gone, John inquired who the old man was. 'He is the landlord,' said the servant; 'and, heaven help him! A dog's life has he led since he married his last wife.' 'What,' said John, with surprise, 'is that young woman the landlord's wife? I see I must not remain in this house tonight;' and, tired as he was, he got up to leave it, but went no further than the door before he met the two pedlars, all cut and bleeding, coming in, for they had been robbed and almost murdered in the wood. John was very sorry to see them in that condition, and advised them not to lodge in the house, telling them, with a significant nod that all was not right there; but the poor pedlars were so weary and so bruised, that they would stop where they were, and disregarded the advice. Rather than remain in the house, John retired to the stable, and laid himself down upon a bundle of straw, where he slept soundly for some time. About the middle of the night, he heard two persons come into the stable, and on listening to their conversation, discovered that it was the landlady and a man, laying a plan how to murder her husband. In the morning John renewed his journey; but at the next town he came to, he was told that the landlord in the town he had left had been murdered and that two pedlars, whose clothes were found all covered with blood, had been taken up for the crime, and were going to be hanged. John, without mentioning what he had overheard to any person, determined to save the pedlars if possible, and so returned, in order to intend their trial. On going into the court, he saw the two men at bar, and the young woman and the man whose voice he had heard in the stable, swearing their innocent lives away. But the judge allowed him to give his evidence, and he told every particular of what had occurred. The man and the young woman instantly confessed their guilt; the poor pedlars were at once acquitted; and the judge ordered a large reward to be paid to John Carson, as through his means the real murderers were brought to justice. John proceeded towards home, fully convinced of the value of two of the advices which his master had given him. On arriving at his cabin he found his wife and children rejoicing over a purse full of gold, which the eldest boy had picked up on the road that morning. Whilst he was away they had endured all the miseries which the wretched families of those who go over to seek work in England are exposed to. With precarious food, without a bed to lie down on, or a roof to shelter them, they had wandered through the country, seeking food from door to door of a starving population; and when a single potato was bestowed, showering down blessings and thanks on the giver, not in the set phrases of the mendicant, but in the burst of eloquence too fervid not to gush direct from the heart. Those only who have seen a family of such beggars as I describe, can fancy the joy with which the poor woman welcomed her husband back, and informed him of the purse full of gold. 'And where did Mick my boy, find it,' inquired John Carson. 'It was the young squire, for certain, who dropped it,' said his wife, 'for he rode down the road this morning, and was leaping his horse in the very gap where Micky picked it up; but sure, John, he has money enough, besides, and never the halfpenny have I to buy my poor childer a bit to eat this blessed night.' 'Never mind that,' said John. 'Do as I bid you, and take up the purse at once to the big house, and ask for the young squire. I have two cakes which I brought every step of the way with me from England, and they will do for the children's supper. I ought surely to remember, as good right I have, what my master told me for my twelvemonths' wages, seeing I never, as yet, found what he said to be wrong!' 'And what did he say,' inquired the wife. 'That honesty is the best policy,' answered John. ''Tis very well; and 'tis mighty easy for them to say so that have never been sore tempted by distress and famine to say otherwise, but your bidding is enough for me, John.' Straightways she went to the big house, and inquired for the young squire; but she was denied the liberty to speak to him. 'You must tell me your business, honest woman,' said the servant, with a head all powdered and frizzled like a cauliflower, and who had on a coat covered with gold and silver lace and buttons, and everything in the world. 'If you knew but all,' said she, 'I am an honest woman, for I've brought a purse full of gold to the young master; for surely it is his; as nobody else could have so much money.' 'Let me see it,' said the servant. 'Ay, it's all right. I'll take care of it. You need not trouble yourself any more about the matter;' and so saying, he slapped the door in her face. When she returned, her husband produced the two cakes which his master gave him on parting; and breaking one to divide between his children, how was he astonished to find six guineas, in it; and when he took the other and broke it, he found as many more. He then remembered the words of his generous master, who desired him to give one of the cakes to his wife, and not to eat the other himself until that time; and this was the way his master took to conceal his wages, lest he should have been robbed, or have lost the money on the road. The following day, as John was standing near his cabin door and turning over in his own mind what he should do with his money, the young squire came riding down the road. John pulled off his hat, for he had not forgotten his manners through the means of traveling to foreign parts, and then made so bold as to inquire if his honor had got the purse he lost. 'Why, it is true enough, my good fellow,' said the squire, 'I did lose my purse yesterday, and I hope you were lucky enough to find it; for if that is your cabin, you seem to be very poor, and shall keep it as a reward for your honesty.' 'Then the servant at the big house never gave it to you last night, after taking it from Nance -- she's my wife, your honor -- and telling her it was all right?' 'Oh, I must look into this business,' said the squire. 'Did you say your wife, my poor man, gave my purse to a servant -- to what servant?' 'I can't tell his name rightly,' said John, 'because I don't know it; but never trust Nance's eye again if she can't point him out to your honor, if so your honor is desirous of knowing.' 'Then do you and Nance, as you call her, come up to the hall this evening, and I'll inquire into the matter, I promise you.' So saying, the squire rode off. John and his wife went up accordingly in the evening, and he gave a small rap with the big knocker at the great door. The door was opened by a grand servant, who, without hearing what the poor people had to say, exclaimed, 'Oh, go! -- go! what business can you have here?' and shut the door. John's wife burst out a crying. 'There,' said she, so sobbing as if her heart would break. 'I knew that would be the end of it.' But John had not been in old England merely to get his twelve guineas packed in two cakes. 'No,' said he, firmly; 'right is right, and I'll see the end of it.' So he sat himself down on the steps of the door, determined not to go until he had seen the young squire, and as it happened, it was not long before he came out. 'I have been expecting you for some time, John,' said he; 'come in and bring your wife in;' and he made them go before him into the house. Immediately he directed all the servants to come up stairs; and such an army of them as there was! It was a real sight to see them. 'Which of you,' said the young squire, without making further words, 'which of you all did this honest woman give my purse to?' but there was no answer. 'Well I suppose she must be mistaken, unless she can tell herself.' John's wife at once pointed her finger towards the head footman; 'there he is,' said she, 'if all the world were in the fore -- clergyman, magistrate, judge, jury and all. There he is, and I am ready to take my bible-oath to him. There he is who told me it was all right when he took the purse, and slammed the door in my face, without as much as thank ye for it.' The conscious footman turned pale. 'What is this I hear?' said his master. 'If this woman gave you my purse, William, why did you not give it to me?' The servant stammered out a denial; but his master insisted on his being searched, and the purse was found in his pocket. 'John,' said the gentleman, turning round, 'you shall be no loser by this affair. Here are ten guineas for you; go home now, but I will not forget your wife's honesty.' Within a month John Carson was settled in a nice new-slated house, which the squire had furnished and made ready for him. What with his wages, and the reward he got from the judge, and the ten guineas for returning the purse, he was well to do in the world, and was soon able to stock a little farm, where he lived respected all his days. On his deathbed, he gave his children the very three advices which his master had given him on parting: Never to take a by-road when they could follow the highway. Never to lodge in a house where an old man was married to a young woman. And, above all, to remember that honesty is the best policy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
910B,The Three Advices Which the King with the Red Soles Gave to His Son,Ireland,NA,"Patrick Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts (London: Macmillan and Company, 1866), pp. 73-77.","The name of the young chief was Illan, called Don, from his brown hair, and the first thing he set about doing after the funeral, was to test the wisdom of his father's counsels. So he went to the fair of Tailtean [now Telltown in Meath] with a fine mare of his, and rode up and down. He asked twenty gold rings for his beast, but the highest bid he got was only nineteen. To work out his design he would not abate a screpal, but rode home on her back in the evening. He could have readily crossed a ford that lay in his way near home; for sheer devilment he leaped the river higher up, where the banks on both sides were steep. The poor beast stumbled as she came near the edge, and was flung head foremost into the rocky bed, and killed. He was pitched forward, but his fall was broken by some shrubs that were growing in the face of the opposite bank. He was as sorry for the poor mare as any young fellow, fond of horses and dogs, could be. When he got home he sent a giolla to take off the animal's two forelegs at the knee, and these he hung up in the great hall of his dun, having first had them properly dried and prepared. Next day he repaired again to the fair, and got into conversation with a rich chief of Oriel, whose handsome daughter had come to the meeting to purchase some cows. Illan offered his services, as he knew most of the bodachs and the bodachs' wives who were there for the object of selling. A word to them from the handsome and popular young chief, and good bargains were given to the lady. So pleased was her father, ay and she too, with this civility that he forthwith received an invitation to hunt and fish at the northern rath, and very willingly he accepted it. So he returned home in a very pleasant state of mind, and was anxious that this second experiment should succeed better than the first. The visit was paid, and in the mornings there were pleasant walks in the woods with the young lady, while her little brother and sister were chasing one another through the trees, and the hunting and fishing went on afterwards, and there were feasts of venison, and wild boar, and drinking of wine and mead in the evenings, and stories in verse recited by bards, and sometimes moonlight walks on the ramparts of the fort, and at last marriage was proposed and accepted. One morning as Illan was musing on the happiness that was before him, an attendant on his promised bride walked into his room. 'Great must be your surprise, O Illan Don,' said she, 'at this my visit, but my respect for you will not allow me to see you fall into the pit that is gaping for you. Your affianced bride is an unchaste woman. You have remarked the deformed Fergus Rua, who plays on the small clarsech, and is the possessor of thrice fifty stories. He often attends in her room late in the evening to play soft music to her, and to put her to sleep with this soft music and his stories of the Danaan druids. Who would suspect the weak deformed creature, or the young lady of noble birth? By your hand, O Illan of the brown hair, if you marry her, you will bring disgrace on yourself and your clan. You do not trust my words! Then trust to your own senses. She would most willingly break off all connection with the lame wretch since she first laid eyes on you, but he has sworn to expose her before you and her father. When the household is at rest this night, wait at the entrance of the passage that leads to the women's apartments. I will meet you there. Tomorrow morning you will require no one's advice for your direction.' Before the sun tinged the purple clouds, next morning, Illan was crossing the outer moat of the lios, and lying behind him on the back of his trusty steed, was some long object carefully folded in skins. 'Tell your honored chief,' said he to the attendant who was conducting him, 'that I am obliged on a sudden to depart, and that I request him by his regard for me to return my visit a fortnight hence, and to bring his fair daughter with him.' On he rode, and muttered from time to time, 'Oh, had I slain the guilty pair, it would be a well merited death! the deformed wretch! the weak lost woman! Now for the third trial!' Illan had a married sister, whose rath was about twelve of our miles distant from his. To her home he repaired next day, changing clothes with a beggar whom he met on the road. When he arrived, he found that they were at dinner, and several neighboring families with them in the great hall. 'Tell my sister,' said he to a giolla who was lounging at the door, 'that I wish to speak with her.' 'Who is your sister?' said the other in an insolent tone, for he did not recognize the young chief in his beggar's dress. 'Who should she be but the Bhan a Teagh, you rascal!' The fellow began to laugh, but the open palm of the irritated young man coming like a sledge stroke on his cheek, dashed him on the ground, and set him a-roaring. 'Oh, what has caused this confusion?' said the lady of the house, coming out from the hall. 'I,' said her brother, 'punishing your giolla's disrespect.' 'Oh, brother, what has reduced you to such a condition?' 'An attack on my house, and a creagh made on my lands in my absence. I have neither gold nor silver vessels in my dun, nor rich cloaks, nor ornaments, nor arms for my followers. My cattle have been driven from my lands, and all as I was on a visit at the house of my intended bride. You must come to my relief; you will have to send cattle to my ravaged fields, gold and silver vessels, and ornaments and furs, and rich clothes to my house, to enable me to receive my bride and her father in a few days.' 'Poor dear Illan!' she answered, 'my heart bleeds for you. I fear I cannot aid you, nor can I ask you to join our company within in these rags. But you must be hungry; stay here till I send you some refreshment.' She quitted him, and did not return again, but an attendant came out with a griddle cake in one hand, and a porringer with some Danish beer in it in the other. Illan carried them away to the spot where he had quitted the beggar, and gave him the bread, and made him drink the beer. Then changing clothes with him, he rewarded him, and returned home, bearing the porringer as a trophy. On the day appointed with the father of his affianced, there were assembled in Illan's hall, his sister, his sister's husband, his affianced, her father, and some others. When an opportunity offered after meat and bread, and wine had gone the way of all food, Illan addressed his guests: 'Friends and relations, I am about confessing some of my faults before you, and hope you will be bettered by the hearing. My dying father charged me never to refuse a fair offer for horse, cow, or sheep, at a fair. For refusing a trifle less than I asked for my noble mare, there was nothing left to me but those bits of her forelegs you see hanging by the wall. He advised me never to put on an air of want when soliciting a favor. I begged help of my sister for a pretended need, and because I had nothing better than a beggar's cloak on me, I got nothing for my suit but the porringer that you see dangling by the poor remains of my mare. I wooed a strange lady to be my wife, contrary to my dying father's injunction, and after seeming to listen favorably to my suit, she at last said I should be satisfied with the crutches of her lame and deformed harper: there they are!' The sister blushed, and was ready to sink through the floor for shame. The bride was in a much more wretched state, and would have fainted, but it was not the fashion of the day. Her father stormed, and said this was but a subterfuge on the part of Illan. He deferred to her pleasure, but though torn with anguish for the loss of the young chief's love and respect, she took the blame on herself. The next morning saw the rath without a visitor; but within a quarter of a year, the kind faced, though not beautiful daughter of a neighboring Duine Uasal (gentleman) made the fort cheerful by her presence. Illan had known her since they were children. He was long aware of her excellent qualities, but had never thought of her as a wife till the morning after his speech. He was fonder of her a month after his marriage than he was on the marriage morning, and much fonder when a year had gone by, and presented his house with an heir.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,Buttermilk Jack,NA,"According to the narrator, this song was sung at a country fair 'by a queer little man, with a twisted face, and a lurcher dog between his knees.' Thomas Hughes, best known for his novel Tom Brown's School Days (1857), was born in 1822 and died in 1896.","Thomas Hughes The Scouring of the White Horse; or, The Long Vacation Ramble of a London Clerk (Cambridge and London: Macmillan and Company, 1859), pp. 171-72.","Oh mother, my buttermilk I will sell, And all for a penny as you med zee; And with my penny then I will buy eggs, Vor I shall have seven for my penney. Oh mother, I'll set them all under our hen, And seven cock chickens might chance for to be; But seven cock chickens or seven cap hens, There'll be seven half-crownds for me. Oh, I'll go carry them to market, mother, And nothing but vine volk shall I zee; And with my money then I will buy land, Zo as a landlord I med be. 'Oh my dear zon, wilt thee know me, When thee hast gotten great store of wealth?' 'Oh, my dear mother, how shall I know thee, When I shall hardly know my own self?' Zo aal you as has got an old hen for to sett, Both by night and by day mind you has her well watched, Lest you should be like unto Buttermilk Jack, To reckon your chickens before thay are hatched.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,Day-Dreaming,The 1001 Nights,"Note by Jacobs: I have given the story of the barber's fifth brother from the Arabian Nights as another example of the rare instances of tales that have become current among the folk, but which can be definitely traced to literary sources, though possibly, in the far-off past, it was a folk tale arising in the East. The various stages by which the story came into Europe have been traced by Benfey in the introduction to his edition of Pantschatantra, § 209, and after him by Max Mueller in his essay 'On the Migration of Fables' (Chips from a German Workshop, iv., 145-209; it was thus a chip from another German's workshop). It came to Europe before the Arabian Nights and became popular in La Fontaine's fable of Perrette who counted her chickens before they were hatched, as the popular phrase puts it. In such a case one can only give a reproduction of the literary source, and it is a problem which of the various forms which appear in the folk books should be chosen. I have selected that from the Thousand and One Nights because I have given elsewhere the story of Perrette (Jacobs, Æsop's Fables, no. 45), and did not care to repeat it in this place. I have made my version a sort of composite from those of Mr. Payne and Sir Richard Burton, and have made the few changes necessary to fit the tale to youthful minds. It is from the quasi-literary spread of stories like this that the claim for an Oriental origin of all folk tales has received its chief strength, and it was necessary, therefore, to include one or two of them in Europa's Fairy Book (Androcles is another). But the mode of transmission is quite different and definitely traceable and, for the most part, the tales remain entirely unchanged; whereas, in the true folk tale, the popular storytellers exercised their choice, modifying incidents and giving local color. (pp. 243-44)","Joseph Jacobs, Europa's Fairy Book (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), no. 15, pp. 110-14.","Now there was once a man at Bagdad who had seven sons, and when he died he left to each of them one hundred dirhams; and his fifth son, called Alnaschar the Babbler, invested all this money in some glassware, and, putting it in a big tray, from which to show and sell it, he sat down on a raised bench, at the foot of a wall, against which he leant back, placing the tray on the ground in front of him. As he sat he began day-dreaming and said to himself: I have laid out a hundred dirhams on this glass. Now I will surely sell it for two hundred, and with it I will buy more glass and sell that for four hundred; nor will I cease to buy and sell till I become master of much wealth. With this I will buy all kinds of merchandise and jewels and perfumes and gain great profit on them till, God willing, I will make my capital a hundred thousand dinars or two million dirhams. Then I will buy a handsome house, together with slaves and horses and trappings of gold, and eat and drink, nor will there be a singing girl in the city but I will have her to sing to me. This he said looking at the tray before him with glassware worth a hundred dirhams. Then he continued: When I have amassed a hundred thousand dinars I will send out marriage-brokers to demand for me in marriage the hand of the Vizier's daughter, for I hear that she is perfect in beauty and of surpassing grace. I will give her a dowry of a thousand dinars, and if her father consent, 'tis well; if not, I will take her by force, in spite of him. When I return home, I will buy ten little slaves and clothes for myself such as are worn by kings and sultans and get a saddle of gold, set thick with precious jewels. Then I will mount and parade the city, with slaves before and behind me, while the people will salute me and call down blessings upon me: after which I will go to the Vizier, the girl's father, with slaves behind and before me, as well as on either hand. When the Vizier sees me, he will rise and seating me in his own place, sit down below me, because I am his son-in-law. Now I will have with me two slaves with purses, in each a thousand dinars, and I will give him the thousand dinars of the dowry and make him a present of another thousand dinars so that he may recognize my nobility and generosity and greatness of mind and the littleness of the world in my eyes; and for every ten words he will say to me, I will answer him only two. Then I will return to my house, and if anyone come to me on the bride's part, I will make him a present of money and clothe him in a robe of honor; but if he bring me a present I will return it to him and will not accept it so that they may know how great of soul I am. After a while Alnaschar continued: Then I will command them to bring the Vizier's daughter to me in state and will get ready my house in fine condition to receive her. When the time of the unveiling of the bride is come, I will put on my richest clothes and sit down on a couch of brocaded silk, leaning on a cushion and turning my eyes neither to the right nor to the left, to show the haughtiness of my mind and the seriousness of my character. My bride shall stand before me like the full moon, in her robes and ornaments, and I, out of my pride and my disdain, will not look at her, till all who are present shall say to me: 'O my lord, thy wife and thy handmaid stands before thee; deign to look upon her, for standing is irksome to her.' And they will kiss the earth before me many times, whereupon I will lift my eyes and give one glance at her, then bend down my head again. Then they will carry her to the bride-chamber, and meanwhile I will rise and change my clothes for a richer suit. When they bring in the bride for the second time, I will not look at her till they have implored me several times, when I will glance at her and bow down my head; nor will I cease doing thus, till they have made an end of parading and displaying her. Then I will order one of my slaves to fetch a purse, and, giving it to the tire-women, command them to lead her to the bride-chamber. When they leave me alone with the bride, I will not look at her or speak to her, but will sit by her with averted face, that she may say I am high of soul. Presently her mother will come to me and kiss my head and hands and say to me: 'O my lord, look on thy handmaid, for she longs for thy favor, and heal her spirit.' But I will give her no answer; and when she sees this, she will come and kiss my feet and say, 'O my lord, verily my daughter is a beautiful girl, who has never seen man; and if thou show her this aversion, her heart will break; so do thou be gracious to her and speak to her.' Then she will rise and fetch a cup of wine, and her daughter will take it and come to me; but I will leave her standing before me, while I recline upon a cushion of cloth of gold, and will not look at her to show the haughtiness of my heart, so that she will think me to be a sultan of exceeding dignity and will say to me: 'O my lord, for God's sake, do not refuse to take the cup from thy servant's hand, for indeed I am thy handmaid.' But I will not speak to her, and she will press me, saying: 'Needs must thou drink it,' and put it to my lips. Then I will shake my fist in her face and spurn her with my foot thus. So saying, he gave a kick with his foot and knocked over the tray of glass, which fell over to the ground, and all that was in it was broken. Note by Jacobs: I have given the story of the barber's fifth brother from the Arabian Nights as another example of the rare instances of tales that have become current among the folk, but which can be definitely traced to literary sources, though possibly, in the far-off past, it was a folk tale arising in the East. The various stages by which the story came into Europe have been traced by Benfey in the introduction to his edition of Pantschatantra, § 209, and after him by Max Mueller in his essay 'On the Migration of Fables' (Chips from a German Workshop, iv., 145-209; it was thus a chip from another German's workshop). It came to Europe before the Arabian Nights and became popular in La Fontaine's fable of Perrette who counted her chickens before they were hatched, as the popular phrase puts it. In such a case one can only give a reproduction of the literary source, and it is a problem which of the various forms which appear in the folk books should be chosen. I have selected that from the Thousand and One Nights because I have given elsewhere the story of Perrette (Jacobs, Æsop's Fables, no. 45), and did not care to repeat it in this place. I have made my version a sort of composite from those of Mr. Payne and Sir Richard Burton, and have made the few changes necessary to fit the tale to youthful minds. It is from the quasi-literary spread of stories like this that the claim for an Oriental origin of all folk tales has received its chief strength, and it was necessary, therefore, to include one or two of them in Europa's Fairy Book (Androcles is another). But the mode of transmission is quite different and definitely traceable and, for the most part, the tales remain entirely unchanged; whereas, in the true folk tale, the popular storytellers exercised their choice, modifying incidents and giving local color.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,Lazy Heinz,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,I have followed the Grimms' seventh and final edition (1857). This tale was added to their collection in the third edition (1837). Link to a separate file containing only the tale Lazy Heinz.,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der faule Heinz,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 164, pp. 313-15.","Heinz was lazy, and although he had nothing else to do but to drive his goat out to the pasture every day, he nevertheless groaned every evening when he returned home after finishing his day's work. 'It is in truth a heavy burden,' he said, 'and a tiresome job, to drive such a goat out to the field year in and year out until late in the fall. If I could only lie down and sleep at it! But no, I must keep my eyes open so it won't damage the young trees, or force its way through the hedge into a garden, or even run away altogether. How can I get some rest and enjoy life?' He sat down, collected his thoughts, and considered how he could lift this burden from his shoulders. For a long time his thoughts led to nothing, but suddenly it was as if scales were removed from his eyes. 'I know what I will do,' he shouted. 'I will marry Fat Trina. She too has a goat, and she can drive mine out with hers, and then I shall no longer have to torment myself.' So Heinz got up, set his weary limbs into motion, and walked across the street, for it was no further than that, to where Fat Trina's parents lived, and asked for the hand in marriage of their industrious and virtuous daughter. Her parents did not think about it for long. 'Birds of a feather, flock together,' they thought, and gave their consent. So Fat Trina became Heinz's wife, and drove out both of the goats. Heinz now enjoyed life, having no work to rest from, but his own laziness. He went out with her only now and then, saying, 'I'm doing this so that afterwards I will enjoy resting more. Otherwise I shall lose all feeling for it.' However, Fat Trina was no less lazy. 'Dear Heinz,' she said one day, 'why should we make our lives so miserable, ruining the best days of our youth, when there is no need for it? The two goats disturb our best sleep every morning with their bleating. Wouldn't it be better for us to give them to our neighbor, who will give us a beehive for them? We will put the beehive in a sunny place behind the house, and then not give it any more thought. Bees do not have to be taken care of, nor driven into the field. They fly out and find their way home again by themselves, and they collect honey without any effort at all on our part.' 'You have spoken like a sensible woman,' replied Heinz. 'We will carry out your proposal without delay. And furthermore, honey tastes better and is more nourishing than goat's milk, and it keeps longer too.' The neighbor willingly gave them a beehive for the two goats. The bees flew tirelessly in and out from early morning until late evening, filling the hive with the best honey. Thus that fall-time, Heinz was able to take out a whole jugful. They placed the jug on a shelf on their bedroom wall. Fearing that it might be stolen, or that the mice might get into it, Trina brought in a stout hazel stick and put it beside her bed, so that she would be able to reach it without having to get up, and then from her place in bed drive away the uninvited guests. Lazy Heinz did not like to get out of bed before noon. 'He who rises early,' he would say, 'wastes his wealth.' One morning when he was still lying in the feathers in broad daylight, resting from his long sleep, he said to his wife, 'Women are fond of sweets, and you have been snacking on the honey. It would be better for us to exchange it for a goose with a young gosling, before you eat it all up.' 'But not before we have a child to take care of them.' replied Trina. Am I to torment myself with the young geese, wasting all my energy on them for no reason?' 'Do you think,' said Heinz, 'that the boy will tend geese? Nowadays children no longer obey. They do just as they please, because they think that they are smarter than their parents, just like that servant who was supposed to look for the cow and chased after three blackbirds.' 'Oh,' replied Trina, 'he will get it if he does not do what I say. I will take a stick and tan his hide with more blows than can be counted.' 'See here, Heinz,' she shouted in her fervor, seizing the stick that she intended to use to drive away the mice. 'See here! This is how I will beat him.' She struck forth, unfortunately hitting the jug of honey above the bed. The jug struck against the wall and fell down in pieces. The fine honey flowed out onto the floor. 'There lies the goose with the young gosling,' said Heinz. 'And they do not need to be tended. But it is lucky that the jug did not fall on my head. We have every reason to be satisfied with our fate.' Then noticing that there was still some honey in one of the pieces of the jug, he reached out for it, saying quite happily, 'Wife, let us enjoy the leftovers, and then we will rest a little from the fright we have had. What does it matter if we get up a little later than usual? The day will be long enough.' 'Yes,' answered Trina, 'there is always time enough. You know, the snail was once invited to a wedding and started on his way, but arrived at the child's baptism. In front of the house it fell over the fence, and said, 'Haste makes waste.'' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 164, pp. 313-15. I have followed the Grimms' seventh and final edition (1857). This tale was added to their collection in the third edition (1837).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,Lean Lisa,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,I have followed the Grimms' seventh and final edition (1857). This tale was added to their collection in the fourth edition (1840). Link to a separate file containing only the tale Lean Lisa.,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die hagere Liese,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 168, pp. 332-33.","Lean Lisa was not at all like Lazy Heinz and Fat Trina, who would not allow anything to disturb their rest. She burned herself out from morning until evening and loaded so much work on her husband, Lanky Lenz, that it was harder for him than for a donkey loaded with three sacks. But it was all for naught. They had nothing, and they got nothing. One evening she was lying in bed, too tired to move a muscle but still unable to fall asleep, when she poked her husband in the side with her elbow and said, 'Lenz, listen to what I just thought of. If I were to find a florin, and you were to give me another one, then I'd borrow yet another one, and you'd give me still another one, and then I would take the four florins and buy a young cow.' The man agreed. 'I don't know,' he said, 'where I'm to get that florin I'm supposed to give you, but after you have the money to buy a cow, it will be a good thing.' Then he added, 'I'm looking forward to the time after the cow calves, so I can have some good refreshing milk to drink.' 'The milk is not for you,' said the woman. 'We will let the calf suck, so it will grow large and fat, and we can sell it for a good price.' 'Of course,' said the man, 'but it won't hurt anything if we take a little milk.' 'Who taught you about cows?' said the woman. 'I won't allow it, whether it will hurt anything or not. You can stand on your head, but you won't get a single drop of milk. Lanky Lenz, just because you are always hungry, you think that you can devour everything that my hard work brings in.' 'Woman,' said the man, 'be quiet, or I'll plant one on the side of your face.' 'What!' she cried. 'Are you threatening me! You glutton! You good-for-nothing! You lazybones!' She was reaching for his hair, but Lanky Lenz raised himself up, took hold of both her skinny arms with one hand, then pushed her head into the pillow with the other one. He held her there and let her scold until she fell asleep from exhaustion. The next morning when she woke up, I do not know whether she continued to quarrel, or whether she went out to look for the florin that she wanted to find.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,Sheik Chilli,"India, Alice Elizabeth Dracott",NA,"Alice Elizabeth Dracott, Simla Village Tales; or, Folk Tales from the Himalayas (London: John Murray, 1906), pp. 68-69.","The hero of this story was one day walking along with a vessel of oil upon his head. As he walked he kept thinking of the future: I will sell the oil, and with the money I shall buy a goat, and then I shall sell the kids, and then I shall buy a cow, and sell the milk, till I get a large sum of money; then I shall buy a pair of buffaloes, and a field, and plough the field, and gain more money, and build myself a house, and marry a wife, and have many sons and daughters. And when my wife comes to call me to dinner, I'll say: 'Dhur, away! I'll come when I think fit!' And with that he held up his head suddenly, and away fell the chattie with the oil, and it was all spilt. This upset Sheik Chilli so much that he began to yell: 'I have lost my goats, I have lost my cows, I have lost my buffaloes, and my house, and my wife and children.' That such dire calamity should befall a man caused great pity, so the bystanders took Sheik Chilli to the Rajah, who asked him how it had all happened. When he heard the story he laughed, and said: 'This boy has a good heart, let him be given a reward to compensate him for the loss of his oil.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,"Story of an Old Woman, Carrying Milk to Market in an Earthen Vessel.",Jacques de Vitry,"Crane considers the above tale to be 'the oldest European version of this famous fable.' Jacques de Vitry was born in central France between about 1160 and 1170, and died in Rome in 1240.","Jacques de Vitry The Exempla; Or, Illustrative Stories from the Sermones Vulgares, edited by Thomas Frederick Crane (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1890), no. 51, pp. 154-55.","An old woman, while carrying milk to market in an earthen vessel, began to consider in what way she could become rich. Reflecting that she might sell her milk for three pence (obolos), she thought she would buy with them a young hen, from whose eggs she would get many chickens, which she would sell and buy a pig. This she would fatten and sell and buy a foal, which she would rear until it was suitable to ride. And she began to say to herself, 'I shall ride that horse and lead it to pasture and say to it, 'Io! Io!'' While she was thinking of these things she began to move her feet and heels as if she had spurs on them, clapped her hands for joy, so that by the motion of her feet and the clapping of her hands she broke the pitcher, and the milk was spilled on the ground, and she was left with nothing in her hands.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Barber's Tale of His Fifth Brother,1001 Nights,NA,"The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated from the Arabic by Richard F. Burton, reprinted from the original edition and edited by Leonard C. Smithers, vol. 1 (London: H. S. Nichols and Company , 1894), pp. 309-312.","When our father died, he left each of us one hundred dirhams. My fifth brother invested his inheritance in glassware, hoping to resell it at a handsome profit. He exhibited the glassware on a large tray, then fell to musing: These pieces will bring me two hundred dirhams, which I can use to buy more glass, which I will then sell for four hundred dirhams. With this money I can buy more glass and other merchandise to sell, and so on and so on until I have amassed a hundred thousand dirhams. Then I will purchase a fine house with slaves and eunuchs, and when my capital has grown to a hundred thousand dinars, I will demand to marry the Prime Minister's eldest daughter, and if he refuses consent, I will take her by force. On my wedding night I will don my finest attire and seat myself on a cushion of gold brocade to receive my bride. She will present herself in her most beautiful clothing, lovely as the full moon, but I will not even glance at her until her attendants kiss the ground before me and beg me to look at her, and then I will cast at her one single glance. When they leave us alone I will neither look at her nor speak to her, but will show my contempt by lying beside her with my face to the wall. Presently her mother will come into the chamber and beg of me, 'Please, my lord, your handmaid longs for your favor.' I will give no answer. Then she will kiss my feet and say, 'My lord, my daughter is truly a beautiful maid who has never before been with a man. Do speak to her and soothe her mind and spirit.' Then she will bring a cup of wine, hand it to her daughter, saying, 'Take this to your lord.' I will say nothing, leaning back so that she may see in me a sultan and a mighty man. She will say to me, 'My lord, do not refuse to take this cup from the hand of your servant.' I will say nothing, and she will insist, 'You must drink it,' and press the cup to my lips. Then I will shake my fist in her face and kick her with my foot. With that he struck out, catching the tray of glassware with his foot. It crashed to the ground and everything broke to pieces, and thus my brother lost both his capital and his profit. translated from the Arabic by Richard F. Burton, reprinted from the original edition and edited by Leonard C. Smithers, vol. 1 (London: H. S. Nichols and Company , 1894), pp.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Broken Pot,The Panchatantra,"One of India's most influential contributions to world literature, The Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. The German Sanskrit scholar Johannes Hertel (1872-1955) believed that the original collection was compiled in Kashmir about 200 BC, and that at this time many of the stories were already ancient. The work's self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai (also spelled Pilpay), which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced European fabulists. Link to a selection of tales from The Panchatantra. Link to Arthur W. Ryder's English translation of the Panchatantra.","Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey, vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 5, story 9, pp. 345-46.","In a certain place there lived a Brahman by the name of Svabhâvakripana, which means 'luckless by his very nature.' By begging he acquired a quantity of rice gruel, and after he had eaten what he wanted, there was still a potful left. He hung this pot on a nail in the wall above his bed. As night progressed, he could not take his eyes from the pot. All the while he was thinking: This pot is filled to overflowing with rice gruel. If a famine should come to the land, then I could sell it for a hundred pieces of silver. Then I could buy a pair of goats. They have kids every six months, so I would soon have an entire herd of goats. Then I would trade the goats for cattle. As soon as the cows had calved, I would sell the calves. Then I would trade the cattle for buffalo. And the buffalo for horses. And when the horses foaled, I would own many horses. From their sale I would gain a large amount of gold. With this gold I would buy a house with four buildings in a rectangle. Then a Brahman would enter my house and give me a very beautiful girl with a large dowry for my wife. She will give birth to a son, and I will give him the name Somasarman. When he is old enough to be bounced on my knee, I will take a book, sit in the horse stall, and read. In the meantime, Somasarman will see me and want to be bounced on my knee. He will climb down from his mother's lap and walk toward me, coming close to the horses hooves. Then, filled with anger, I will shout at my wife, 'Take the child! Take the child!' But she, busy with her housework, will not hear me. So I will jump up and give her a kick! And, buried in his thoughts, he struck out with his foot, breaking the pot, and painting himself white with the rice gruel that had been in it. Therefore I say: He who dreams about unrealistic projects for the future will have the same fate as Somasarman's father: He will find himself lying there painted white with rice gruel. Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey, vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 5, story 9, pp. 345-46. The Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. The German Sanskrit scholar Johannes Hertel (1872-1955) believed that the original collection was compiled in Kashmir about 200 BC, and that at this time many of the stories were already ancient. The work's self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai (also spelled Pilpay), which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced European fabulists.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Dairywoman and the Pot of Milk,"France, Jean de La Fontaine","Jean de La Fontaine, The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 7, fable 10, pp. 159-60. Link to this fable in French: La laitière et le pot au lait. Jean de La Fontaine was born in 1621 and died in 1695. His Fables were first published in several volumes between 1668 and 1694.",NA,"A pot of milk upon her cushion'd crown, Good Peggy hasten'd to the market town; Short clad and light, with speed she went, Not fearing any accident; Indeed, to be the nimbler tripper, Her dress that day, The truth to say, Was simple petticoat and slipper. And, thus bedight, Good Peggy, light, -- Her gains already counted, -- Laid out the cash At single dash, Which to a hundred eggs amounted. Three nests she made, Which, by the aid Of diligence and care were hatch'd. 'To raise the chicks, I'll easy fix,' Said she, 'beside our cottage thatch'd. The fox must get More cunning yet, Or leave enough to buy a pig. With little care And any fare, He'll grow quite fat and big; And then the price Will be so nice, For which the pork will sell! 'Twill go quite hard But in our yard I'll bring a cow and calf to dwell -- A calf to frisk among the flock!' The thought made Peggy do the same; And down at once the milk-pot came, And perish'd with the shock. Calf, cow, and pig, and chicks, adieu! Your mistress' face is sad to view; She gives a tear to fortune spilt; Then with the downcast look of guilt Home to her husband empty goes, Somewhat in danger of his blows. Who buildeth not, sometimes, in air His cots, or seats, or castles fair? From kings to dairywomen, -- all, -- The wise, the foolish, great and small, -- Each thinks his waking dream the best. Some flattering error fills the breast: The world with all its wealth is ours, Its honors, dames, and loveliest bowers. Instinct with valor, when alone, I hurl the monarch from his throne; The people, glad to see him dead, Elect me monarch in his stead, And diadems rain on my head. Some accident then calls me back, And I'm no more than simple Jack.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Daydreamer,"India, Henry Cecil Bompas","From Bompas' preface: 'The Santals are a Munda tribe, a branch of that aboriginal element which probably entered India from the northeast. At the present day they inhabit the eastern outskirts of the Chutia Nagpore plateau.'","Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 39, pp. 140-141.","Once an oil man was going to market with his pots of oil arranged on a flat basket, and he engaged a Santal for two annas to carry the basket. And as he went along, the Santal thought: With one anna I will buy food and with the other I will buy chickens, and the chickens will grow up and multiply, and then I will sell some of the fowls and eggs, and with the money I will buy goats. And when the goats increase, I will sell some and buy cows, and then I will exchange some of the calves for she-buffaloes, and when the buffaloes breed, I will sell some and buy land and start cultivation, and then I will marry and have children, and I will hurry back from my work in the fields, and my wife will bring me water, and I will have a rest, and my children will say to me, 'Father, be quick and wash your hands for dinner,' but I will shake my head and say, 'No, no, not yet!' And as he thought about it he really shook his head, and the basket fell to the ground, and all the pots of oil were smashed. Then the oil man abused him and said that he must pay two rupees for the oil and one anna for the pots. But the Santal said that he had lost much more than that, and the oil man asked him how that could be, and the Santal explained how with his wages he was going to get fowls and then goats and then oxen and buffaloes and land, and how he came to spill the basket, and at that the oil man roared with laughter and said, 'Well, I have made up the account, and I find that our losses are equal, so we will cry quits.' And so saying they went their ways laughing. (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 39, pp. 140-141. From Bompas' preface: 'The Santals are a Munda tribe, a branch of that aboriginal element which probably entered India from the northeast. At the present day they inhabit the eastern outskirts of the Chutia Nagpore plateau.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Fakir and His Jar of Butter,The 1001 Nights,NA,"The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated by Richard F. Burton, vol. 9 (Benares: Printed by the Kamashastra Society for private subscribers only, 1885), pp. 40-41.","A fakir abode once with one of the nobles of a certain town, who made him a daily allowance of three scones and a little clarified butter and honey. Now such butter was dear in those parts and the devotee laid all that came to him together in a jar he had, till he filled it and hung it up over his head for safekeeping. One night, as he sat on his bed staff in hand, he fell a-musing upon the butter and the greatness of its price and said in himself: I sell all this butter I have accumulated and with the proceeds buy a ewe. The first year she will bear a male lamb and a female and the second a female and a male and these in their turn will bear other males and other females. The males I will sell and buy with them bulls and cows, which will also increase and multiply; after which I will purchase a piece of land and plant a garden therein and build thereon a fine palace. Moreover, I will purchase robes and raiment and slaves and slave-girls, and then hold a wedding exceeding all that have ever been seen. I will slaughter cattle and make rich meats and confections and assemble all the musicians and mimes and performers and invite rich and poor to the celebration. Lastly I will go in to my bride, after her unveiling and enjoy her beauty and loveliness. In due time my wife will bear me a boy, and I shall rejoice in him and make banquets in his honor and rear him daintily and teach him philosophy and mathematics and polite letters, so that I shall make his name renowned among men and glory in him among the assemblies of the learned; and I will bid him do good and he shall not contradict me, and I will forbid him from lewdness and iniquity and exhort him to piety and the practice of righteousness; and, I will bestow on him rich and goodly gifts. I will reward his obedience with rich gifts, but if I should ever see him incline to disobedience, I will come down on him with this staff. So saying, he raised his hand to beat his son, but the staff hit the jar of butter hanging above his head, and broke it. The shards fell upon him, and the butter ran down upon his head, his beard, his clothes, and his bed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Lad and the Fox,Sweden,Nils Gabriel Djurklou was born in 1829 and died in 1904.,"Gabriel Djurklou, Fairy Tales from the Swedish, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: William Heinemann, 1901), pp. 85-86.","There was once upon a time a little lad, who was on his way to church, and when he came to a clearing in the forest he caught sight of a fox, who was lying on the top of a big stone fast asleep, so that the fox did not know the lad had seen him. 'If I kill that fox,' said the lad, taking a heavy stone in his fist, 'and sell the skin, I shall get money for it, and with that money I shall buy some rye, and that rye I shall sow in father's cornfield at home. When the people who are on their way to church pass by my field of rye they'll say, 'Oh, what splendid rye that lad has got!' Then I shall say to them, 'I say, keep away from my rye!' But they won't heed me. Then I shall shout to them, 'I say, keep away from my rye!' But still they won't take any notice of me. Then I shall scream with all my might, 'Keep away from my rye!' and then they'll listen to me.' But the lad screamed so loudly that the fox woke up and made off at once for the forest, so that the lad did not even get as much as a handful of his hair. No, it's best always to take what you can reach, for of undone deeds you should never screech, as the saying goes. translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: William Heinemann, 1901), pp. 85-86.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Milkmaid and Her Bucket,Ambrose Bierce,"The American satirist Ambrose Bierce was born in 1842 and died about 1914. He was last seen in Chihuahua, Mexico. D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.","Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 192.","A senator fell to musing as follows: 'With the money which I shall get for my vote in favour of the bill to subsidise cat-ranches, I can buy a kit of burglar's tools and open a bank. The profit of that enterprise will enable me to obtain a long, low, black schooner, raise a death's-head flag and engage in commerce on the high seas. From my gains in that business I can pay for the presidency, which at $50,000 a year will give me in four years --' but it took him so long to make the calculation that the bill to subsidise cat-ranches passed without his vote, and he was compelled to return to his constituents an honest man, tormented with a clean conscience.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Milkmaid and Her Pail,Aesop,NA,"Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann; New York: Doubleday, Page and Company, 1916), pp. 25-26.","A farmer's daughter had been out to milk the cows, and was returning to the dairy carrying her pail of milk upon her head. As she walked along, she fell a-musing after this fashion: The milk in this pail will provide me with cream, which I will make into butter and take to market to sell. With the money I will buy a number of eggs, and these, when hatched, will produce chickens, and by and by I shall have quite a large poultry yard. Then I shall sell some of my fowls, and with the money which they will bring in I will buy myself a new gown, which I shall wear when I go to the fair; and all the young fellows will admire it, and come and make love to me, but I shall toss my head and have nothing to say to them. Forgetting all about the pail, and suiting the action to the word, she tossed her head. Down went the pail, all the milk was spilled, and all her fine castles in the air vanished in a moment! Moral: Do not count your chickens before they are hatched. (London: W. Heinemann; New York: Doubleday, Page and Company, 1916), pp. 25-26.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Peasant and the Cucumbers,Leo Tolstoy,Leo Tolstoy was born in 1828 and died in 1910.,"Leo Tolstoy, Fables for Children; Stories for Children; Natural Science Stories, translated by Leo Wiener (London: J. M. Dent and Company, 1904), p. 40.","A peasant once went to the gardener's, to steal cucumbers. He crept up to the cucumbers, and thought, 'I will carry off a bag of cucumbers, which I will sell; with the money I will buy a hen. The hen will lay eggs, hatch them, and raise a lot of chicks. I will feed the chicks and sell them; then I will buy me a young sow, and she will bear a lot of pigs. I will sell the pigs, and buy me a mare; the mare will foal me some colts. I will raise the colts, and sell them. I will buy me a house, and start a garden. In the garden I will sow cucumbers, and will not let them be stolen, but will keep a sharp watch on them. I will hire watchmen, and put them in the cucumber patch, while I myself will come on them, unawares, and shout, 'Oh, there, keep a sharp lookout!'' And this he shouted as loud as he could. The watchmen heard it, and they rushed out and beat the peasant. translated by Leo Wiener (London: J. M. Dent and Company, 1904), p. 40.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Poor Man and the Flask of Oil,Bidpai,NA,"The Tortoise and the Geese and other Fables of Bidpai, retold by Maude Barrows Dutton (Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1908), pp. 8-9.","There was once a poor man, who lived in a house next to a wealthy merchant who sold oil and honey. As the merchant was a kind neighbor, he one day sent a flask of oil to the poor man. The poor man was delighted, and put it carefully away on the top shelf. One evening, as he was gazing at it, he said half aloud, 'I wonder how much oil there is in that bottle. There is a large quantity. If I should sell it, I could buy five sheep. Every year I should have lambs, and before long I should own a flock. Then I should sell some of the sheep, and be rich enough to marry a wife. Perhaps we might have a son. And what a fine boy he would be! So tall, strong, and obedient! But if he should disobey me,' and he raised the staff which he held in his hand, 'I should punish him thus!' And he swung the staff over his head and brought it heavily to the ground, knocking, as he did so, the flask off the shelf so that the oil ran over him from head to foot. retold by Maude Barrows Dutton (Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1908), pp. 8-9.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,The Story of the Devotee Who Spilt the Jar of Honey and Oil,India/Persia,NA,"The Anvár-i Suhailí; or, The Lights of Canopus, Being the Persion Version of The Fables of Pilpay, translated by Edward B. Eastwick (Hertford: Stephen Austin, 1854), p. 409.","They have related that a pious man had a house in the vicinity of a merchant, and lived happily through favor of his neighborly kindness. The merchant continually sold honey and oil, and made his profits by that traffic in unctuous and sweet commodities. Inasmuch as the pious man lived a blameless life, and ever sowed in the field of his guileless heart the seed of the love of God, the merchant reposed implicit confidence in him, and took the supply of his wants upon himself. And in this very thing is the use of riches: to win over the hearts of the poor, and to raise up a perpetual provision from perishable wealth. The merchant, too, considering the opportunity of doing good a blessing, sent every day somewhat from the stock, in the buying and selling of which he was occupied, for the support of the devotee. The latter used somewhat of this and stored up the rest in a corner. In a short time a jar was filled by these means. One day the pious man looked into that jar, and thought thus to himself, 'Well, now! What quantity of honey and oil is collected in this vessel?' At last he conjectured ten mans to be there, and said: If I can sell these for ten dirhams, I can buy for that sum five ewes, and these five will each have young every six months, and each will have two lambs. Thus in a year there will be twenty-five, and in ten years from their progeny there will be herds upon herds. So by these means I shall have an abundant supply, and will sell some, and lay in a handsome stock of furniture, and wed a wife of a noble family. After nine months, I shall have a son born to me, who will study science and polite manners. However, when the weakness of infancy is exchanged for the strength of youth, and that graceful cypress grows up in the garden of manhood, it is probable that he may transgress my orders, and begin to be refractory, and in that case it will be necessary for me to correct him, and I will do so with this very staff which I hold in my hand. He then lifted up his staff, and was so immersed in thought, that, fancying the head and neck of his rebellious son before him, he brought down the staff, and struck it on the jar of honey and oil. It happened that the jar was placed on a shelf, beneath which he sat with it facing him. As soon as his staff reached the jar, it broke it, and let out the honey and oil all over the head and face and vest and hair of the pious man.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,What Happened to a Woman Called Truhana,"Spain, Prince Don Juan Manuel","This book (Libro de los ejemplos del conde Lucanor y de Patronio) was first written in 1335. Don Juan Manuel, Prince of Villena, was born in 1282 and died in 1348.","Prince Don Juan Manuel Count Lucanor; or, The Fifty Pleasant Stories of Patronio: The Tales of the 'Spanish Boccaccio', first done into English by James York, 1868 (London: Gibbings and Company, 1899), no. 28, pp. 147-49.","A woman named Truhana, who was not very rich, went one day to market, carrying on her head a jar of honey. Along the road she was calculating how she could sell the honey and buy eggs, these eggs would produce chickens, and with the produce of the sale of these latter she would buy lambs; and in this way was calculating how she would become richer than her neighbors, and looked forward with anxiety to well marrying her sons and daughters, and how she would go through the streets, accompanied by her sons and daughters-in-law, and how the people would say what a fortunate woman she was to become so rich, having been so very poor. Under the influence of these pleasurable thoughts, she laughed heartily; when, suddenly striking the jar with her hand, it fell to the ground and was broken. Seeing this, she was in great grief at being so suddenly deprived of all her flattering anticipations; for, having fixed all her thoughts upon an illusion, she lost that which was real.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1430,What Happened to the Ascetic When He Lost His Honey and Oil,Kalilah and Dimnah,NA,"Kalilah and Dimnah; or, The Fables of Bidpai: Being an account of their literary history, with an English translationof the later Syriac version of the same, by I. G. N. Keith-Falconer (Cambridge: At the University Press, 1885), p. 170.","It is said that an ascetic derived his nourishment from a king, that is, the governor of a town, every day so much oil and so much honey. And whatever he had remaining, he used to pour into an earthenware vessel which he hung on a peg above the bedstead on which he slept. One day while sleeping on the bedstead, with the earthenware vessel full of oil and honey, he began to say within himself: If I sold this honey and oil, I might sell it for a dinar and with the dinar I might buy ten she-goats, and after five months they would have young, and after a lapse of five years these would have young and their number would become very large, and I should buy two yoke of oxen and a cow, and I should sow my fields and reap much corn and amass much oil, and I should buy a certain number of servants and maid-servants, and when I had taken to myself a wife of beautiful appearance and she had borne me a handsome son, I should instruct him and he would be secretary to the king. Now in his hand, was a staff, and while he was saying these things, he kept brandishing the staff with his hand, and struck the earthenware vessel with it and broke it, whereupon the oil and honey ran down on his head as he slept. So all his plans came to naught, and he was confounded.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,Translated by Richard F. Burton,NA,NA,"But the woman whom Ali Baba had married was poor and needy; they lived, therefore, in a mean hovel and Ali Baba eked out a scanty livelihood by the sale of fuel which he daily collected in the jungle and carried about the town to the Bazar upon his three asses. Now it chanced one day that Ali Baba had cut dead branches and dry fuel sufficient for his need, and had placed the load upon his beasts when suddenly he espied a dust-cloud spireing high in air to his right and moving rapidly towards him; and when he closely considered it he descried a troop of horsemen riding on amain and about to reach him. At this sight he was sore alarmed, and fearing lest perchance they were a band of bandits who would slay him and drive off his donkeys, in his affright he began to run; but forasmuch as they were near hand and he could not escape from out the forest, he drove his animals laden with the fuel into a bye-way of the bushes and swarmed up a thick trunk of a huge tree to hide himself therein; and he sat upon a branch whence he could descry everything beneath him whilst none below could catch a glimpse of him above; and that tree grew close beside a rock which towered high above-head. The horsemen, young, active, and doughty riders, came close up to the rock-face and all dismounted; whereat Ali Baba took good note of them and soon he was fully persuaded by their mien and demeanour that they were a troop of highwaymen who, having fallen upon a caravan had despoiled it and carried off the spoil and brought their booty to this place with intent of concealing it safely in some cache. Moreover he observed that they were forty in number. Ali Baba saw the robbers, as soon as they came under the tree, each unbridle his horse and hobble it; then all took off their saddle-bags which proved to be full of gold and silver. The man who seemed to be the captain presently pushed forwards, load on shoulder, through thorns and thickets, till he came up to a certain spot where he uttered these strange words, 'Open, O Simsim I' and forthwith appeared a wide doorway in the face of the rock. The robbers went in and last of all their Chief and then the portal shut of itself. Long while they stayed within the cave whilst Ali Baba was constrained to abide perched upon the tree, reflecting that if he came down peradventure the band might issue forth that very moment and seize him and slay him. At last he had determined to mount one of the horses and driving on his asses to return townwards, when suddenly the portal flew open. The robber-chief was first to issue forth; then, standing at the entrance, he saw and counted his men as they came out, and lastly he spake the magical words, 'Shut, O Simsim!' whereat the door closed of itself. When all had passed muster and review, each slung on his saddle-bags and bridled his own horse and as soon as ready they rode off, led by the leader, in the direction whence they came. Ali Baba remained still perched on the tree and watched their departure; nor would he descend until what time they were clean gone out of sight, lest perchance one of them return and look around and descry him. Then he thought within himself, 'I too will try the virtue of those magical words and see if at my bidding the door will open and close.' So he called out aloud, 'Open, O Simsim!' And no sooner had he spoken than straightway the portal flew open and he entered within. He saw a large cavern and a vaulted, in height equalling the stature of a full-grown man and it was hewn in the live stone and lighted up with light that came through air-holes and bullseyes in the upper surface of the rock which formed the roof. He had expected to find naught save outer gloom in this robbers' den, and he was surprised to see the whole room filled with bales of all manner stuffs, and heaped up from sole to ceiling with camel-loads of silks and brocades and embroidered cloths and mounds on mounds of vari-coloured carpetings; besides which he espied coins golden and silvern without measure or account, some piled upon the ground and others bound in leathern bags and sacks. Seeing these goods and moneys in such abundance, Ali Baba determined in his mind that not during a few years only but for many generations thieves must have stored their gains and spoils in this place. When he stood within the cave, its door had closed upon him, yet he was not dismayed since, he had kept in memory the magical words; and he took no heed of the precious stuffs around him, but applied himself only and wholly to the sacks of Ashrafis. Of these he carried out as many as he judged sufficient burthen for the beasts; then he loaded them upon his animals, and covered this plunder with sticks and fuel, so none might discern the bags, but might think that he was carrying home his usual ware. Lastly he called out, 'Shut, O Simsim!' and forthwith the door closed, for the spell so wrought that whensoever any entered the cave, its portal shut of itself behind him; and, as he issued therefrom, the same would neither open nor close again till he had pronounced the words, 'Shut, O Simsim!' Presently, having laden his asses Ali Baba urged them before him with all speed to the city and reaching home he drove them into the yard; and, shutting close the outer door, took down first the sticks and fuel and after the bags of gold which he carried in to his wife. She felt them and finding them full of coin suspected that Ali Baba had been robbing and fell to berating and blaming him for that he should do so ill a thing. Then quoth Ali Baba to his wife: 'Indeed I am no robber but rather do thou rejoice with me at our good fortune.' Hereupon he told her of his adventure and began to pour the gold from the bags in heaps before her, and her sight was dazzled by the sheen and her heart delighted at his recital and adventures. Then she began counting the gold, whereat quoth Ali Baba, 'O silly woman, how long wilt thou continue turning over the coin? Now let me dig a hole wherein to hide this treasure that none may know its secret.' Quoth she, 'Right is thy rede! still would I weigh the moneys and have some inkling of their amount;' and he replied, 'As thou pleasest, but see thou tell no man.' So she went off in haste to Kasim's home to borrow weights and scales wherewith she might balance the Ashrafis and make some reckoning of their value; and when she could not find Kaim she said to his wife, 'Lend me, I pray thee, thy scales for a moment.' Replied her sister-in-law, 'Hast thou need of the bigger balance or the smaller?' and the other rejoined, 'I need not the large scales, give me the little;' and her sister-in-law cried, 'Stay here a moment whilst I look about and find thy want.' With this pretext Kasim's wife went aside and secretly smeared wax and suet over the pan of the balance, that she might know what thing it was Ali Baba's wife would weigh, for she made sure that whatso it be some bit thereof would stick to the wax and fat. So the woman took this opportunity to satisfy her curiosity, and Ali Baba's wife suspecting naught thereof carried home the scales and began to weigh the gold, whilst Ali Baba ceased not digging; and, when the money was weighed, they twain stowed it into the hole which they carefully filled up with earth. Then the good wife took back the scales to her kinswoman, all unknowing that an Ashrafi had adhered to the cup of the scales; but when Kasim's wife espied the gold coin she fumed with envy and wrath, saying to herself, 'So ho! they borrowed my balance to weigh out Ashrafis?' and she marvelled greatly whence so poor a man as Ali Baba had gotten such store of wealth that he should be obliged to weigh it with a pair of scales. Now after long pondering the matter, when her husband returned home at eventide, she said to him, 'O man, thou deemest thyself a wight of wealth and substance, but lo, thy brother Ali Baba is an Emir by the side of thee and richer far than thou art. He hath such heaps of gold that he must needs weigh his moneys with scales, whilst thou, forsooth, art satisfied to count thy coin.' 'Whence knowe'st thou this?' asked Kasim, and in answer his wife related all anent the pair of scales and how she found an Ashrafi stuck to them, and shewed him the gold coin which bore the mark and superscription of some ancient king. No sleep had Kasim all that night by reason of his envy and jealousy and covetise; and next morning he rose betimes and going to Ali Baba said, 'O my brother, to all appearance thou art poor and needy; but in effect thou hast a store of wealth so abundant that perforce thou must weigh thy gold with scales.' Quoth Ali Baba, 'What is this thou sayest? I understand thee not; make clear thy purport;' and quoth Kasim with ready rage, 'Feign not that thou art ignorant of what I say and think not to deceive me.' Then showing him the Ashrafi he cried, 'Thousands of gold coins such as these thou hast put by; and meanwhile my wife found this one stuck to the cup of the scales.' Then Ali Baba understood how both Kasim and his wife knew that he had store of Ashrafis, and said in his mind that it would not avail him to keep the matter hidden, but would rather cause ill-will and mischief; and thus he was induced to tell his brother every whit concerning the bandits and also of the treasure trove in the cave. When he had heard the story, Kasim exclaimed, 'I would fain learn of thee the certainty of the place where them foundest the moneys; also the magical words whereby the door opened and closed; and I forewarn thee an thou tell me not the whole truth, I will give notice of those Ashrafis to the Wali; then shalt thou forfeit all thy wealth and be disgraced and thrown into gaol.' Thereupon Ali Baba told him his tale not forgetting the magical words; and Kasim who kept careful heed of all these matters next day set out, driving ten mules he had hired, and readily found the place which Ali Baba had described to him. And when he came to the aforesaid rock and to the tree whereon Ali Baba had hidden himself, and he had made sure of the door he cried in great joy, 'Open, O Simsim!' The portal yawned wide at once and Kasim went within and saw the piles of jewels and treasures lying ranged all around; and, as soon as he stood amongst them the door shut after him as wont to do. He walked about in ecstasy marvelling at the treasures, and when weary of admiration he gathered together bags of Ashrafis, a sufficient load for his ten mules, and placed them by the entrance in readiness to be carried outside and set upon the beasts. But by the will of Allah Almighty he had clean forgotten the cabalistic words and cried out, 'Open, O Barley!' whereat the door refused to move. Astonished and confused beyond measure he named the names of all manner of grains save sesame, which had slipped from his memory as though he had never heard the word; whereat in his dire distress he heeded not the Ashrafis that lay heaped at the entrance and paced to and fro, backwards and forwards, within the cave sorely puzzled and perplexed. The wealth whose sight had erewhile filled his heart with joy and gladness was now the cause of bitter grief and sadness. Kasini gave up all hope of the life which he by his greed and envy had so sore imperilled. It came to pass that at noontide the robbers, returning by that way, saw from afar some mules standing beside the entrance and much they marvelled at what had brought the beasts to that place; for, inasmuch as Kasim by mischance had failed to tether or hobble them, they had strayed about the jungle and were browsing hither and thither. However, the thieves paid scant regard to the estrays nor cared they to secure them, but only wondered by what means they had wandered so far from the town. Then, reaching the cave the Captain and his troop dismounted and going up to the door repeated the formula and at once it flew open. Now Kasim had heard from within the cave the horse-hooves drawing nigh and yet nigher; and he fell down to the ground in a fit of fear never doubting that it was the clatter of the banditti who would slaughter him without fail. Howbeit he presently took heart of grace and at the moment when the door flew open he rushed out hoping to make good his escape. But the unhappy ran full tilt against the Captain who stood in front of the band, and felled him to the ground; whereupon a robber standing near his chief at once bared his brand and with one cut clave Kasim clean in twain. Thereupon the robbers rushed into the cavern, and put back as they were before the bags of Ashrafis which Kasim had heaped up at the doorway ready for taking away; nor recked they aught of those which Ali Baba had removed, so dazed and amazed were they to discover by what means the strange man had effected an entrance. All knew that it was not possible for any to drop through the skylights so tall and steep was the rock's face, withal slippery of ascent; and also that none could enter by the portal unless he knew the magical words whereby to open it. However they presently quartered the dead body of Kasim and hung it to the door within the cavern, two parts to the right jamb and as many to the left that the sight might be a warning of approaching doom for all who dared enter the cave. Then coming out they closed the hoard door and rode away upon their wonted work. Now when night fell and Kasim came not home, his wife waxed uneasy in mind and running round to Ali Baba said, 'O my brother, Kasim hath not returned: thou knowest whither he went, and sore I fear me some misfortune hath betided him.' Ali Baba also divined that a mishap had happened to prevent his return; not the less, however, he strove to comfort his sister-in-law with words of cheer and said, 'O wife of my brother, Kasim haply exerciseth discretion and, avoiding the city, cometh by a roundabout road and will be here anon. This, I do believe, is the reason why he tarrieth.' Thereupon comforted in spirit Kasim's wife fared homewards and sat awaiting her husband's return; but when half the night was spent and still he came not, she was as one distraught. She feared to cry aloud for her grief, lest haply the neighbours hearing her should come and learn the secret; so she wept in silence and upbraiding herself fell to thinking, 'Wherefore did I disclose this secret to him and beget envy and jealousy of Ali Baba? this be the fruit thereof and hence the disaster that hath come down upon me.' She spent the rest of the night in bitter tears and early on the morrow hied in hottest hurry to Ali Baba and prayed that he would go forth in quest of his brother; so he strove to console her and straightway set out with his asses for the forest. Presently, reaching the rock he wondered to see stains of blood freshly shed and not finding his brother or the ten mules he forefelt a calamity from so evil a sign. He then went to the door and saving, 'Open, O Simsim!' he pushed in and saw the dead body of Kasim, two parts hanging to the right, and the rest to the left of the entrance. Albeit he was affrighted beyond measure of affright he wrapped the quarters in two cloths and laid them upon one of his asses, hiding them carefully with sticks and fuel that none might see them. Then he placed the bags of gold upon the two other animals and likewise covered them most carefully; and, when all was made ready he closed the cave-door with the magical words, and set him forth wending homewards with all ward and watchfulness. The asses with the load of Ashrafis he made over to his wife and bade her bury the bags with diligence; but he told her not the condition in which he had come upon his brother Kasim, Then he went with the other ass, to wit, the beast whereon was laid the corpse to the widow's house and knocked gently at the door. Now Kasim had a slave-girl shrewd and sharp-witted, Morgiana hight. She as softly undid the bolt and admitted Ali Baba and the ass into the courtyard of the house, when he let down the body from the beast's back and said, 'O Morgiana, haste thee and make thee ready to perform the rites for the burial of thy lord: I now go to tell the tidings to thy mistress and I will quickly return to help thee in this matter.' At that instant Kasim's widow seeing her brother-in-law, exclaimed, 'O Ali Baba, what news bringest thou of my spouse? Alas, I see grief tokens written upon thy countenance. Say quickly what hath happened.' Then he recounted to her how it had fared with her husband and how he had been slain by the robbers and in what wise he had brought home the dead body. Ali Baba pursued: 'O my lady, what was to happen hath happened, but it behoveth us to keep this matter secret, for that our lives depend upon privacy.' She wept with sore weeping and made answer, 'It hath fared with my husband according to the fiat of Fate; and now for thy safety's sake I give thee my word to keep the affair concealed.' He replied, 'Naught can avail when Allah hath decreed. Rest thee in patience; until the days of thy widowhood be accomplisht; after which time I will take thee to wife, and thou shalt live in comfort and happiness; and fear not lest my first spouse vex thee or show aught of jealousy, for that she is kindly and tender of heart.' The widow lamenting her loss noisily, cried, 'Be it as e'en thou please.' Then Ali Baba farewelled her, weeping and wailing for her husband; and joining Morgiana took counsel with her how to manage the burial of his brother. So, after much consultation and many warnings, he left the slave-girl and departed home driving his ass before him. As soon as Ali Baba had fared forth Morgiana went quickly to a druggist's shop; and, that she might the better dissemble with him and not make known the matter, she asked of him a drug often administered to men when diseased with dangerous distemper. He gave it saying, 'Who is there in thy house that lieth so ill as to require this medicine?' and said she, 'My Master Kasim is sick well nigh unto death: for many days he hath nor spoken nor tasted aught of food, so that almost we despair of his life.' Next day Morgiana went again and asked the druggist for more of medicine and essences such as are adhibited to the sick when at door of death, that the moribund may haply rally before the last breath. The man gave the potion and she taking it sighed aloud and wept, saying, 'I fear me he may not have strength to drink this draught: methinks all will be over with him ere I return to the house.' Meanwhile Ali Baba was anxiously awaiting to hear sounds of wailing and lamentation in Kasim's home that he might at such signal hasten thither and take part in the ceremonies of the funeral. Early on the second day Morgiana went with veiled face to one Baba Mustafa, a tailor well shotten in years whose craft was to make shrouds and cerecloths; and as soon as she saw him open his shop she gave him a gold piece and said, 'Do thou bind a bandage over thine eyes and come along with me.' Mustafa made as though he would not go, whereat Morgiana placed a second gold coin in his palm and entreated him to accompany her. The tailor presently consented for greed of gain, so tying a kerchief tightly over his eyes she led him by the hand to the house wherein lay the dead body of her master. Then, taking off the bandage in the darkened room she bade him sew together the quarters of the corpse, limb to its limb; and, casting a cloth upon the body, said to the tailor, 'Make haste and sew a shroud according to the size of this dead man and I will give thee therefor yet another ducat.' Baba Mustafa quickly made the cere cloth of fitting length and breadth, and Morgiana paid him the promised Ashrafi; then once more bandaging his eyes led him back to the place whence she had brought him. After this she returned hurriedly home and with the help of Ali Baba washed the body, in warm water and donning the shroud lay the corpse upon a clean place ready for burial. This done Morgiana went to the mosque and gave notice to an Imam that a funeral was awaiting the mourners in a certain household, and prayed that he would come to read the prayers for the dead; and the Imam went back with her. Then four neighbours took up the bier and bore it on tneir shoulders and fared forth with the Imam and others who were wont to give assistance at such obsequies. After the funeral prayers were ended four other men carried off the coffin; and Morgiana walked before it bare of head, striking her breast and weeping and wailing with exceeding loud lament, whilst Ali Baba and the neighbours came behind. In such order they entered the cemetery and buried him; then, leaving him to Munkar and Nakir -- the Questioners of the Dead -- all wended their ways. Presently the women of the quarter, according to the custom of the city, gathered together in the house of mourning and sat an hour with Kasim's widow comforting and condoling, presently leaving her somewhat resigned and cheered. Ali Baba stayed forty days at home in ceremonial lamentation for the loss of his brother; so none within the town save himself and his wife (Kasim's widow) and Morgiana knew aught about the secret. And when the forty days of mourning were ended Ali Baba removed to his own quarters all the property belonging to the deceased and openly married the widow; then he appointed his nephew, his brother's eldest son, who had lived a long time with a wealthy merchant and was perfect of knowledge in all matters of trade, such as selling and buying, to take charge of the defunct's shop and to carry on the business. It so chanced one day when the robbers, as was their wont, came to the treasurecave that they marvelled exceedingly to find nor sign nor trace of Kasim's body whilst they observed that much of gold had been carried off. Quoth the Captain, 'Now it behoveth us to make enquiry in this matter; else shall we suffer much of loss arid this our treasure, which we and our forefathers have amassed during the course of many years, will little by little be wasted and spoiled.' Hereto all assented and with single mind agreed that he whom they had slain had knowledge of the magical words whereby the door was made to open; moreover that some one beside him had cognizance of the spell and had carried off the body, and also much of gold; wherefore they needs must make diligent research and find out who the man ever might be. They then took counsel and determined that one amongst them, who should be sagacious and deft of wit, must don the dress of some merchant from foreign parts; then, repairing to the city he must go about from quarter to quarter and from street to street, and learn if any townsman had lately died and if so where he wont to dwell, that with this clue they might be enabled to find the wight they sought. Hereat said one of the robbers, 'Grant me leave that I fare and find out such tidings in the town and bring thee word anon; and if I fail of my purpose I hold my life in forfeit.' Accordingly that bandit, after disguising himself by dress, pushed at night into the town and next morning early he repaired to the market-square and saw that none of the shops had yet been opened, save only that of Baba Mustafa the tailor, who thread and needle in hand sat upon his working-stool. The thief bade him good day and said, ''Tis yet dark: how canst thou see to sew?' Said the tailor, 'I perceive thou art a stranger. Despite my years my eyesight is so keen that only yesterday I sewed together a dead body whilst sitting in a room quite darkened.' Quoth the bandit thereupon to himself, 'I shall get somewhat of my want from this snip;' and to secure a further clue he asked, 'Meseemeth thou wouldst jest with me and thou meanest that a cerecloth for a corpse was stitched by thee and that thy business is to sew shrouds.' Answered the tailor, 'It mattereth not to thee: question me no more questions.' Thereupon the robber placed an Ashrafi in his hand and continued, 'I desire not to discover aught thou hidest, albeit my breast like every honest man's is the grave of secrets; and this only would I learn of thee, in what house didst thou do that job? Canst thou direct me thither, or thyself conduct me thereto?' The tailor took the gold with greed and cried, 'I have not seen with my own eyes the way to that house. A certain bondswoman led me to a place which I know right well and there she bandaged my eyes and guided me to some tenement and lastly carried me into a darkened room where lay the dead body dismembered. Then she unbound the kerchief and bade me sew together first the corpse and then the shroud, which having done she again blindfolded me and led me back to the stead whence she had brought me and left me there. Thou seest then I am not able to tell thee where thou shalt find the house.' Quoth the robber, 'Albeit thou knowest not the dwelling whereof thou speakest, still canst thou take me to the place where thou wast blindfolded; then I will bind a kerchief over thine eyes and lead thee as thou wast led: on this wise perchance thou mayest hit upon the site. An thou wilt do this favour by me, see here another golden ducat is thine.' Thereupon the bandit slipped a second Ashrafi into the tailor's palm, and Baba Mustafa thrust it with the first into his pocket; then, leaving his shop as it was, he walked to the place where Morgiana had tied the kerchief around his eyes, and with him went the robber who, after binding on the bandage, led him by the hand. Baba Mustafa, who was clever and keen-witted, presently striking the street whereby he had fared with the handmaid, walked on counting step by step; then, halting suddenly, he said, 'Thus far I came with her;' and the twain stopped in front of Kasim's house wherein now dwelt his brother Ali Baba. The robber then made marks with white chalk upon the door to the end that he might readily find it at some future time, and removing the bandage from the tailor's eyes said, 'O Baba Mustafa, I thank thee for this favour: and Almighty Allah guerdon thee for thy goodness. Tell me now, I pray thee, who dwelleth in yonder house?' Quoth he, 'In very sooth I wot not, for I have little knowledge concerning this quarter of the city;' and the bandit, understanding that he could find no further clue from the tailor, dismissed him to his shop with abundant thanks, and hastened back to the tryst-place in the jungle where the band awaited his coming. Not long after it so fortuned that Morgiana, going out upon some errand, marvelled exceedingly at seeing the chalk-marks showing white in the door; she stood awhile deep in thought and presently divined that some enemy had made the signs that he might recognize the house and play some sleight upon her lord. She therefore chalked the doors of all her neighbours in like manner and kept the matter secret, never entrusting it or to master or to mistress. Meanwhile the robber told his comrades his tale of adventure and how he had found the clue; so the Captain and with him all the band went one after other by different ways till they entered the city ; and he who had placed the mark on Ali Baba's door accompanied the Chief to point out the place. He conducted him straightway to the house and shewing the sign exclaimed, 'Here dwelleth he of whom we are in search!' But when the Captain looked around him he saw that all the dwellings bore chalk-marks after like fashion and he wondered saying, 'By what manner of means knowest thou which house of all these houses that bear similar signs is that whereof thou spakest?' Hereat the robber-guide was confounded beyond measure of confusion, and could make no answer; then with an oath he cried, 'I did assuredly set a sign upon a door, but I know not whence came all the marks upon the other entrances; nor can I say for a surety which it was I chalked.' Thereupon the Captain returned to the market-place and said to his men, 'We have toiled and laboured in vain, nor have we found the house we went forth to seek. Return we now to the forest our rendezvous: I also will fare thither.' Then all trooped off and assembled together within the treasure-cave; and, when the robbers had all met, the Captain judged him worthy of punishment who had spoken falsely and had led them through the city to no purpose. So he imprisoned him in presence of them all; and then said he, 'To him amongst you will I show special favour who shall go to town and bring me intelligence whereby we may lay hands upon the plunderer of our property.' Hereat another of the company came forward and said, 'I am ready to go and enquire into the case, and 'tis I who will bring thee to thy wish.' The Captain after giving him presents and promises despatched him upon his errand; and by the decree of Destiny which none may gainsay, this second robber went first to the house of Baba Mustafa the tailor, as had done the thief who had foregone him. In like manner he also persuaded the snip with gifts of golden coin that he be led hoodwinked and thus too he was guided to Ali Baba's door. Here noting the work of his predecessor, he affixed to the jamb a mark with red chalk the better to distinguish it from the others whereon still showed the white. Then hied he back in stealth to his company; but Morgiana on her part also descried the red sign on the entrance and with subtle forethought marked all the others after the same fashion; nor told she any what she had done. Meanwhile the bandit rejoined his band and vauntingly said, 'O our Captain, I have found the house and thereon put a mark whereby I shall distinguish it clearly from all its neighbours.' The Captain despatched another of his men to the city and he found the place, but, as aforetime, when the troop repaired thither they saw each and every house marked with signs of red chalk. So they returned disappointed and the Captain, waxing displeased exceedingly and distraught, clapped also this spy into gaol. Then said the chief to himself, 'Two men have failed in their endeavour and have met their rightful meed of punishment; and I trow that none other of my band will essay to follow up their research; so I myself will go and find the house of this wight.' Accordingly he fared along and aided by the tailor Baba Mustafa, who had gained much gain of golden pieces in this matter, he hit upon the house of Ali Baba; and here he made no outward show or sign, but marked it on the tablet of his heart and impressed the picture upon the page of his memory. Then returning to the jungle he said to his men, 'I have full cognizance of the place and have limned it clearly in my mind ; so now there will be no difficulty in finding it. Go forth straightways and buy me and bring hither nineteen mules together with one large leathern jar of mustard oil and seven and thirty vessels of the same kind clean empty. Without me and the two locked up in gaol ye number thirty-seven souls; so I will stow you away armed and accoutred each within his jar and will load two upon each mule, and upon the nineteenth mule there shall be a man in an empty jar on one side, and on the other the jar full of oil. I for my part, in guise of an oil-merchant, will drive the mules into the town, arriving at the house by night, and will ask permission of its master to tarry there until morning. After this we shall seek occasion during the dark hours to rise up and fall upon him and slay him.' Furthermore the Captain spake saying, 'When we have made an end of trim we shall recover the gold and treasure whereof he robbed us and bring it back upon the mules.' This counsel pleased the robbers who went forthwith and purchased mules and huge leathern jars, and did as the Captain had bidden them. And after a delay of three days shortly before nightfall they arose; and over-smearing all the jars with oil of mustard, each hid him inside an empty vessel. The Chief then disguised himself in trader's gear and placed the jars upon the nineteen mules; to wit, the thirty-seven vessels in each of which lay a robber armed and accoutred, and the one that was full of oil. This done, he drove the beasts before him and presently he reached Ali Baba's place at nightfall; when it chanced that the house-master was strolling after supper to and fro in front of his home. The Captain saluted him with the salam and said, 'I come from such and such a village with oil; and ofttimes have I been here a-selling oil, but now to my grief I have arrived too late and I am sore troubled and perplexed as to where I shall spend the night. An thou have pity on me I pray thee grant that I tarry here in thy courtyard and ease the mules by taking down the jars and giving the beasts somewhat of fodder.' Albeit Ali Baba had heard the Captain's voice when perched upon the tree and had seen him enter the cave, yet by reason of the disguise he knew him not for the leader of the thieves, and granted his request with hearty welcome and gave him full license to halt there for the night. He then pointed out an empty shed wherein to tether the mules, and bade one of the slave-boys go fetch grain and water. He also gave orders to the slave-girl Morgiana saying, 'A guest hath come hither and tarrieth here to-night. Do thou busy thyself with all speed about his supper and make ready the guestbed for him.' Presently, when the Captain had let down all the jars and had fed and watered his mules, Ali Baba received him with all courtesy and kindness, and summoning Morgiana said in his presence, 'See thou fail not in service of this our stranger nor suffer him to lack for aught. To-morrow early I would fare to the Hammam and bathe; so do thou give my slave-boy Abdullah a suit of clean white clothes which I may put on after washing; moreover make thee ready a somewhat of broth overnight that I may drink it after my return home.' Replied she, 'I will have all in readiness as thou hast bidden.' So Ali Baba retired to his rest, and the Captain, having supped, repaired to the shed and saw that all the mules had their food and drink for the night. The Captain, after seeing to the mules and the jars which Ali Baba and his household held to be full of oil, finding utter privacy, whispered to his men who were in ambush, 'This night at midnight when ye hear my voice, do you quickly open with your sharp knives the leathern jars from top to bottom and issue forth without delay.' Then passing through the kitchen he reached the chamber wherein a bed had been dispread for him, Morgiana showing the way with a lamp. Quoth she, 'An thou need aught beside I pray thee command this thy slave who is ever ready to obey thy say!' He made answer, 'Naught else need I;' then, putting out the light, he lay him down on the bed to sleep awhile ere the time came to rouse his men and finish off the work. Meanwhile Morgiana did as her master had bidden her: she first took out a suit of clean white clothes and made it over to Abdullah who had not yet gone to rest; then she placed the pipkin upon the hearth to boil the broth and blew the fire till it burnt briskly. After a short delay she needs must see an the broth be boiling, but by that time all the lamps had gone out and she found that the oil was spent and that nowhere could she get a light. The slave-boy Abdullah observed that she was troubled and perplexed hereat, and quoth he to her, 'Why make so much ado? In yonder shed are many jars of oil: go now and take as much soever as thou listest.' Morgiana gave thanks to him for his suggestion; and Abdullah, who was lying at his ease in the hall, went off to sleep so that he might wake betimes and serve Ali Baba in the bath. So the handmaiden rose and with oil-can in hand walked to the shed where stood the leathern jars all ranged in rows. Now, as she drew nigh unto one of the vessels, the thief who was hidden therein hearing the tread of footsteps bethought him that it was of his Captain whose summons he awaited; so he whispered, 'Is it now time for us to sally forth?' Morgiana started back affrighted at the sound of human accents; but, inasmuch as she was bold and ready of wit, she replied, 'The time is not yet come,' and said to herself, 'These jars are not full of oil and herein I perceive a manner of mystery. Haply the oil merchant hatcheth some treacherous plot against my lord; so Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate, protect us from his snares!' Wherefore she answered in a voice made like to the Captain's, 'Not yet, the time is not come.' Then she went to the next jar and returned the same reply to him who was within, and so on to all the vessels one by one. Then said she in herself, 'Laud to the Lord! my master took this fellow in believing him to be an oil-merchant, but lo, he hath admitted a band of robbers, who only await the signal to fall upon him and plunder the place and do him die.' Then passed she on to the furthest jar and finding it brimming with oil, filled her can, and returning to the kitchen, trimmed the lamp and lit the wicks; then, bringing forth a large cauldron, she set it upon the fire, and filling it with oil from out the jar heaped wood upon the hearth and fanned it to a fierce flame the readier to boil its contents. When this was done she baled it out in potfuls and poured it seething hot into the leathern vessels one by one while the thieves unable to escape were scalded to death and every jar contained a corpse. Thus did this slave-girl by her subtle wit make a clean end of all noiselessly and unknown even to the dwellers m the house. Now when she had satisfied herself that each and every of the men had been slain, she went back to the kitchen and shutting to the door sat brewing Ali Baba's broth. Scarce had an hour passed before the Captain woke from sleep; and, opening wide his window, saw that all was dark and silent; so he clapped his hands as a signal for his men to come forth but not a sound was heard in return. After awhile he clapped again and called aloud but got no answer; and when he cried out a third time without reply he was perplexed and went out to the shed wherein stood the jars. He thought to himself, 'Perchance all are fallen asleep whenas the time for action is now at hand, so I must e'en awaken them without stay or delay.' Then approaching the nearest jar he was startled by a smell of oil and seething flesh; and touching it outside he felt it reeking hot; then going to the others one by one, he found all in like condition. Hereat he knew for a surety the fate which had betided his band and, fearing for his own safety, he clomb on to the wall, and thence dropping into a garden made his escape in high dudgeon and sore disappointment. Morgiana awaited awhile to see the Captain return from the shed but he came not; whereat she knew that he had scaled the wall and had taken to flight, for that the street-door was double-locked; and the thieves being all disposed of on this wise Morgiana laid her down to sleep in perfect solace and ease of mind. When two hours of darkness yet remained, Ali Baba awoke and went to the Hammam knowing naught of the night-adventure, for the gallant slave-girl had not aroused him, nor indeed had she deemed such action expedient, because had she sought an opportunity of reporting to him her plan, she might haply have lost her chance and spoiled the project. The sun was high over the horizon when Ali Baba walked back from the Baths; and he marvelled exceedingly to see the jars still standing under the shed and said, 'How cometh it that he, the oil-merchant my guest, hath not carried to the market his mules and jars of oil?' Ali Baba presently asked Morgiana what had befallen the oil-merchant his guest whom he had placed under her charge; and she answered, 'Allah Almighty vouchsafe to thee six score years and ten of safety! I will tell thee in privacy of this merchant.' So Ali Baba went apart with his slave-girl, who taking him without the house first locked the court-door; then showing him a jar she said, 'Prithee look into this and see if within there be oil or aught else.' Thereupon peering inside it he perceived a man at which sight he cried aloud and fain would have fled in his fright. Quoth Morgiana, 'Fear him not, this man hath no longer the force to work thee harm, he lieth dead and stone-dead.' Hearing such words of comfort and reassurance Ali Baba asked, 'O Morgiana, what evils have we escaped and by what means hath this wretch become the quarry of Fate?' She answered 'Alhamdolillah -- Praise be to Almighty Allah! -- I will inform thee fully of the case; but hush thee, speak not aloud, lest haply the neighbours learn the secret and it end in our confusion. Look now into all the jars, one by one from first to last.' So Ali Baba examined them severally and found in each a man fully armed and accoutred and all lay scalded to death. Hereat speechless for sheer amazement he stared at the jars, but presently recovering himself he asked, 'And where is he, the oil-merchant?' Answered she, 'Of him also I will inform thee. The villain was no trader but a traitorous assassin whose honied words would have ensnared thee to thy doom; and now I will tell thee what he was and what hath happened; but, meanwhile thou art fresh from the Hammam and thou shouldst first drink somewhat of this broth for thy stomach's and thy health's sake.' So Ali Baba went within and Morgiana served up the mess; after which quoth her master, 'I fain would hear this wondrous story: prithee tell it to me and set my heart at ease.' Hereat the handmaid fell to relating whatso had betided in these words: Accordingly, I took a can and went to the first vessel when suddenly I heard a voice within whisper with all caution, 'Is it now time for us to sally forth?' I was amazed thereat and judged that the pretended merchant had laid some plot to slay thee; so I replied, 'The time is not yet come.' Then I went to the second jar and heard another voice to which I made the like answer, and so on with all of them. I now was certified that these men awaited only some signal from their Chief whom thou didst take to guest within thy walls supposing him to be a merchant in oil; and that after thou receivedst him hospitably the miscreant had brought these men to murther thee and to plunder thy good and spoil thy house. But I gave him no opportunity to win his wish. The last jar I found full of oil and taking somewhat therefrom I lit the lamp; then, putting a large cauldron upon the fire, I filled it up with oil which I brought from the jar and made a fierce blaze under it; and, when the contents were seething hot, I took out sundry cansful with intent to scald them all to death, and going to each jar in due order, I poured within them one by one boiling oil. On this wise having destroyed them utterly, I returned to the kitchen and having extinguished the lamps stood by the window watching what might happen, and how that false merchant would act next. Not long after I had taken my station, the robber-captain awoke and ofttimes signalled to his thieves. Then getting no reply he came downstairs and went out to the jars, and finding that all his men were slain he fled through the darkness I know not whither. So when he had clean disappeared I was assured that, the door being double-locked, he had scaled the wall and dropped into the garden and made his escape. Then with my heart at rest I slept. Morgiana continued to Ali Baba: 'Judge now and see if these signs and all this villainy be not the work of the bandits of the forest, who marked our house that on such wise they might know it again. Of these forty thieves there yet remain two others concerning whose case I know naught; so beware of them, but chiefly of the third remaining robber, their Captain, who fled hence alive. Take good heed and be thou cautious of him, for, shouldst thou fall into his hands, he will in no wise spare thee but will surely murther thee. I will do all that lieth in me to save from hurt and harm thy life and property, nor shall thy slave be found wanting in any service to my lord.' Hearing these words Ali Baba rejoiced with exceeding joyance and said to her, 'I am well pleased with thee for this thy conduct ; and say me what wouldst thou have me do in thy behalf; I shall not fail to remember thy brave deed so long as breath in me remaineth.' Quoth she, 'It behoveth us before all things forthright to bury these bodies in the ground, that so the secret be not known to any one.' Hereupon Ali Baba took with him his slave-boy Abdullah into the garden and there under a tree they dug for the corpses of the thieves a deep pit in size proportionate to its conterits, and they dragged, the bodies (having carried off their weapons) to the fosse and threw them in; then, covering up the remains of the seven and thirty robbers they made the ground appear level and clean as it wont to be. They also hid the leathern jars and the gear and arms and presently Ali Baba sent the mules by ones and twos to the bazar and sold them all with the able aid of his slave-boy Abdullah. Thus the matter wras hushed up nor did it reach the ears of any; however, Ali Baba ceased not to be ill at ease lest haply the Captain or the surviving two robbers should wreak their vengeance on his head. He kept himself private with all caution and took heed that none learn a word of what had happened and of the wealth which he had carried off from the bandits' cave. Meanwhile the Captain of the thieves having escaped with his life, fled to the forest in hot wrath and sore irk of mind; and his senses were scattered and the colour of his visage vanished like ascending smoke. Then he thought the matter over again and again, and at last he firmly resolved that he needs must take the life of Ali Baba, else he would lose all the treasure which his enemy, by knowledge of the magical words, would take away and turn to his own use. Furthermore, he determined that he would undertake the business single-handed; and, that after getting rid of Ali Baba, he would gather together another band of banditti and would pursue his career of brigandage, as indeed his forbears had done for many generations. So he lay down to rest that night, and rising early in the morning donned a dress of suitable appearance; then going to the city alighted at a caravanserai, thinking to himself, 'Doubtless the murther of so many men hath reached the Wali's ears, and Ali Baba hath been seized and brought to justice, and his house is levelled and his good is confiscated. The townfolk must surely have heard tidings of these matters.' So he straightway asked of the keeper of the Khan, 'What strange things have happened in the city during the last few days?' and the other told him all that he had seen and heard, but the Captain could not learn a whit of that which most concerned him. Hereby he understood that Ali Baba was ware and wise, and that he had not only carried away such store of treasure but he had also destroyed so many lives and withal had come off scatheless; furthermore, that he himself must needs have all his wits alert not to fall into the hands of his foe and perish. With this resolve the Captain hired a shop in the Bazar, whither he bore whole bales of the finest stuffs and goodly merchandise from his forest treasure-house; and presently he took his seat within the store and fell to doing merchant's business. By chance his place fronted the booth of the defunct Kasim where his son, Ali Baba's nephew, now traded; and the Captain, who called himself Khwajah Hasan soon formed acquaintance and friendship with the shopkeepers around about him and treated all with profuse civilities, but he was especially gracious and cordial to the son of Kasim, a handsome youth and a well-dressed, and ofttimes he would sit and chat with him for a long while. A few days after it chanced that Ali Baba, as he was sometime wont to do, came to see his nephew, whom he found sitting in his shop. The Captain saw and recognised him at sight and one morning he asked the young man, saying, 'Prithee tell me, who is he that ever and anon cometh to thee at thy place of sale?' whereto the youth made answer, 'He is my uncle, the brother of my father.' Whereupon the Captain showed him yet greater favour and affection the better to deceive him for his own devices, and gave him presents and made him sit at meat with him and fed him with the daintiest of dishes. Presently Ali Baba's nephew bethought him it was only right and proper that he also should invite the merchant to supper, but whereas his own house was small, and he was straitened for room and could not make a show of splendour, as did Khwajah Hasan, he took counsel with his uncle on the matter. Ali Baba replied to his nephew: 'Thou sayest well: it behoveth thee to entreat thy friend in fairest fashion even as he hath entreated thee. On the morrow, which is Friday, shut thy shop as do all merchants of repute; then, after the early meal, take Khwajah Hasan to smell the air,and as thou walkest lead him hither unawares; meanwhile I will give orders that Morgiana shall make ready for his coming the best of viands and all necessaries for a feast. Trouble not thyself on any wise, but leave the matter in my hands.' Accordingly on the next day, to wit, Friday, the nephew of Ali Baba took Khwajah Hasan to walk about the garden; and, as they were returning he led him by the street wherein his uncle dwelt. When they came to the house, the youth stopped at the door and knocking said, 'O my lord, this is my second home: my uncle hath heard much of thee and of thy goodness mewards and desireth with exceeding desire to see thee; so, shouldst thou consent to enter and visit him, I shall be truly glad and thankful to thee.' Albeit Khwajah Hasan rejoiced in heart that he had thus found means whereby he might have access to his enemy's house and household, and although he hoped soon to attain his end by treachery, yet he hesitated to enter in and stood to make his excuses and walk away. But when the door was opened by the slave-porter, Ali Baba's nephew seized his companion's hand and after abundant persuasion led him in, whereat he entered with great show of cheerfulness as though much pleased and honoured. The housemaster received him with all favour and worship and asked him of his welfare, and said to him, 'O my lord, I am obliged and thankful to thee for that thou hast shewn favour to the son of my brother and I perceive that thou regardest him with an affection even fonder than my own.' Khwajah Hasan replied with pleasant words and said, 'Thy nephew vastly taketh my fancy and in him I am well pleased, for that although young in years yet he hath been endued by Allah with much of wisdom.' Thus they twain conversed with friendly conversation and presently the guest rose to depart and said, 'O my lord, thy slave must now farewell thee; but on some future day Inshallah he will again wait upon thee,' Ali Baba, however, would not let him leave and asked, 'Whither wendest thou, my friend ? I would invite thee to my table and I pray thee sit at meat with us and after hie thee home in peace. Perchance the dishes are not as delicate as those whereof thou art wont to eat, still deign grant me this request I pray thee and refresh thyself with my victual.' Quoth Khwajah Hasan, 'O my lord I am beholden to thee for thy gracious invitation, and with pleasure would I sit at meat with thee, but for a special reason must I needs excuse myself; suffer me therefore to depart for I may not tarry longer nor accept thy gracious offer.' Hereto the host made reply, 'I pray thee, O my lord, tell me what may be the reason so urgent and weighty?' And Khwajah Hasan answered, 'The cause is this: I must not, by order of the physician, who cured me lately of my complaint, eat aught of food prepared with salt.' Quoth Ali Baba, 'An this be all, deprive me not, I pray thee, of the honour thy company will confer upon me: as the meats are not yet cooked, I will forbid the kitchener to make use of any salt. Tarry here awhile and I will return anon to thee.' So saying Ali Baba went in to Morgiana and bade her not put salt into any one of the dishes; and she, while busied with her cooking, fell to marvelling greatly at such order and asked her master, 'Who is he that eateth meat wherein is no salt?' He answered, 'What to thee mattereth it who he may be? Only do thou my bidding.' She rejoined, ''Tis well: all shall be as thou wishest;' but in mind she wondered at the man who made such strange request and desired much to look upon him. Wherefore, when all the meats were ready for serving up, she helped the slave-boy Abdullah to spread the table and set on the meal; and no sooner did she see Khwajah Hasan than she knew who he was, albeit he had disguised himself in the dress of a stranger merchant; furthermore, when she eyed him attentively she espied a dagger hidden under his robe. 'So ho!' quoth she to herself, 'this is the cause why the villain eateth not of salt, for that he seeketh an opportunity to slay my master whose mortal enemy he is; howbeit I will be beforehand with him and despatch him ere he find a chance to harm my lord.' Morgiana, having spread a white cloth upon the table and served up the meal, went back to the kitchen and thought out her plot against the robber-Captain. Now when Ali Baba and Khwajah Hasan had eaten their sufficiency, the slave-boy Abdullah brought Morgiana word to serve the dessert, and she cleared the table and set on fruit fresh and dried in salvers, then she placed by the side of Ali Baba a small tripod for three cups with a flagon of wine, and lastly she went off with the slave-boy Abdullah into another room, as though she would herself eat supper. Then Khwajah Hasan, that is, the Captain of the robbers, perceiving that the coast was clear, exulted mightily saying to himself, 'The time hath come for me to take full vengeance; with one thrust of my dagger I will despatch this fellow, then escape across the garden and wend my ways. His nephew will not adventure to stay my hand, for an he do but move a finger or toe with that intent another stab will settle his earthly account. Still must I wait awhile until the slave-boy and the cook-maid shall have eaten and lain down to rest them in the kitchen.' Morgiana, however, watched him wistfully and divining his purpose said in her mind, 'I must not allow this villain advantage over my lord, but by some means I must make void his project and at once put an end to the life of him.' Accordingly, the trusty slave-girl changed her dress with all haste and donned such clothes as dancers wear; she veiled her face with a costly kerchief; around her head she bound a fine turband, and about her middle she tied a waist-cloth worked with gold and silver wherein she stuck a dagger, whose hilt was rich in filigree and jewelry. Thus disguised she said to the slave-boy Abdullah, 'Take now thy tambourine that we may play and sing and dance in honour of our master's guest.' So he did her bidding and the twain went into the room, the lad playing and the lass following. Then, making a low congee, they asked leave to perform and disport and play; and Ali Baba gave permission, saying, 'Dance now and do your best that this our guest may be mirthful and merry.' Quoth Khwajah Hasan, 'O my lord, thou dost indeed provide much pleasant entertainment.' Then the slave-boy Abdullah standing by began to strike the tambourine whilst Morgiana rose up and showed her perfect art and pleased them vastly with graceful steps and sportive motion; and suddenly drawing the poniard from her belt she brandished it and paced from side to side, a spectacle which pleased them most of all. At times also she stood before them, now clapping the sharp-edged dagger under her armpit and then setting it against her breast. Lastly she took the tambourine from the slave-boy Abdullah, and still holding the poniard in her right she went round for largesse as is the custom amongst merry-makers. First she stood before Ali Baba who threw a gold coin into the tambourine, and his nephew likewise put in an Ashrafi; then Khwajah Hasan, seeing her about to approach him, fell to pulling out his purse, when she heartened her heart and quick as the blinding leven she plunged the dagger into his vitals, and forthwith the miscreant fell back stone-dead. Ali Baba was dismayed and cried in his wrath, 'O unhappy, what is this deed thou hast done to bring about my ruin!' But she replied, 'Nay, O my lord, rather to save thee and not to cause thee harm have I slain this man: loosen his garments and see what thou wilt discover thereunder.' So Ali Baba searched the dead man's dress and found concealed therein a dagger. Then said Morgiana, 'This wretch was thy deadly enemy. Consider him well: he is none other than the oil merchant, the Captain of the band of robbers. Whenas he came hither with intent to take thy life, he would not eat thy salt; and when thou toldest me that he wished not any in the meat I suspected him and at first sight I was assured that he would surely do thee die; Almighty Allah be praised 'tis even as I thought.' Then Ali Babi lavished upon her thanks and expressions of gratitude, saying, 'Lo, these two times hast thou saved me from his hand,' and falling upon her neck he cried, 'See thou art free, and as reward for this thy fealty I have wedded thee to my nephew.' Then turning to the youth he said, 'Do as I bid thee and thou shalt prosper. I would that thou marry Morgiana, who is a model of duty and loyalty: thou seest now yon Khwajah Hasan sought thy friendship only that he might find opportunity to take my life, but this maiden with her good sense and her wisdom hath slain him and saved us.' Ali Baba's nephew straightway consented to marry Morgiana. After which the three, raising the dead body bore it forth with all heed and vigilance and privily buried it in the garden, and for many years no one knew aught thereof. In due time Ali Baba married his brother's son to Morgiana with great pomp, and spread a bride-feast in most sumptuous fashion for his friends and neighbours, and made merry with them and enjoyed singing and all manner of dancing and amusements. He prospered in every undertaking and Time smiled upon him and a new source of wealth was opened to him. For fear of the thieves he had not once visited the jungle-cave wherein lay the treasure, since the day he had carried forth the corpse of his brother Kasim. But some time after, he mounted his hackney one morning and journeyed thither, with all care and caution, till finding no signs of man or horse, and reassured in his mind he ventured to draw near the door. Then alighting from his beast he tied it up to a tree, and going to the entrance pronounced the words which he had not forgotten, 'Open, O Simsim!' Hereat, as was its wont, the door flew open, and entering thereby he saw the goods and hoard of gold and silver untouched and lying as he had left them. So he felt assured that not one of all the thieves remained alive, and, that save himself there was not a soul who knew the secret of the place. At once he bound in his saddlecloth a load of Ashrafis such as his horse could bear and brought it home; and in after days he showed the hoard to his sons and sons' sons and taught them how the door could be caused to open and shut. Thus Ali Baba and his household lived all their lives in wealth and joyance in that city where erst he had been a pauper, and by the blessing of that secret treasure he rose to high degree and dignities.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,The Forty Thieves,Retold by Andrew Lang,NA,NA,"In a town in Persia there dwelt two brothers, one named Cassim, the other Ali Baba. Cassim was married to a rich wife and lived in plenty, while Ali Baba had to maintain his wife and children by cutting wood in a neighboring forest and selling it in the town. One day, when Ali Baba was in the forest, he saw a troop of men on horseback, coming toward him in a cloud of dust. He was afraid they were robbers, and climbed into a tree for safety. When they came up to him and dismounted, he counted forty of them. They unbridled their horses and tied them to trees. The finest man among them, whom Ali Baba took to be their captain, went a little way among some bushes, and said, 'Open, Sesame!' so plainly that Ali Baba heard him. A door opened in the rocks, and having made the troop go in, he followed them, and the door shut again of itself. They stayed some time inside, and Ali Baba, fearing they might come out and catch him, was forced to sit patiently in the tree. At last the door opened again, and the Forty Thieves came out. As the Captain went in last he came out first, and made them all pass by him; he then closed the door, saying, 'Shut, Sesame!' Every man bridled his horse and mounted, the Captain put himself at their head, and they returned as they came. Then Ali Baba climbed down and went to the door concealed among the bushes, and said, 'Open, Sesame!' and it flew open. Ali Baba, who expected a dull, dismal place, was greatly surprised to find it large and well lighted, hollowed by the hand of man in the form of a vault, which received the light from an opening in the ceiling. He saw rich bales of merchandise -- silk, stuff-brocades, all piled together, and gold and silver in heaps, and money in leather purses. He went in and the door shut behind him. He did not look at the silver, but brought out as many bags of gold as he thought his asses, which were browsing outside, could carry, loaded them with the bags, and hid it all with fagots. Using the words, 'Shut, Sesame!' he closed the door and went home. Then he drove his asses into the yard, shut the gates, carried the money-bags to his wife, and emptied them out before her. He bade her keep the secret, and he would go and bury the gold. 'Let me first measure it,' said his wife. 'I will go borrow a measure of someone, while you dig the hole.' So she ran to the wife of Cassim and borrowed a measure. Knowing Ali Baba's poverty, the sister was curious to find out what sort of grain his wife wished to measure, and artfully put some suet at the bottom of the measure. Ali Baba's wife went home and set the measure on the heap of gold, and filled it and emptied it often, to her great content. She then carried it back to her sister, without noticing that a piece of gold was sticking to it, which Cassim's wife perceived directly her back was turned. She grew very curious, and said to Cassim when he came home, 'Cassim, your brother is richer than you. He does not count his money, he measures it.' He begged her to explain this riddle, which she did by showing him the piece of money and telling him where she found it. Then Cassim grew so envious that he could not sleep, and went to his brother in the morning before sunrise. 'Ali Baba,' he said, showing him the gold piece, 'you pretend to be poor and yet you measure gold.' By this Ali Baba perceived that through his wife's folly Cassim and his wife knew their secret, so he confessed all and offered Cassim a share. 'That I expect,' said Cassim; 'but I must know where to find the treasure, otherwise I will discover all, and you will lose all.' Ali Baba, more out of kindness than fear, told him of the cave, and the very words to use. Cassim left Ali Baba, meaning to be beforehand with him and get the treasure for himself. He rose early next morning, and set out with ten mules loaded with great chests. He soon found the place, and the door in the rock. He said, 'Open, Sesame!' and the door opened and shut behind him. He could have feasted his eyes all day on the treasures, but he now hastened to gather together as much of it as possible; but when he was ready to go he could not remember what to say for thinking of his great riches. Instead of 'Sesame,' he said, 'Open, Barley!' and the door remained fast. He named several different sorts of grain, all but the right one, and the door still stuck fast. He was so frightened at the danger he was in that he had as much forgotten the word as if he had never heard it. About noon the robbers returned to their cave, and saw Cassim's mules roving about with great chests on their backs. This gave them the alarm; they drew their sabers, and went to the door, which opened on their Captain's saying, 'Open, Sesame!' Cassim, who had heard the trampling of their horses' feet, resolved to sell his life dearly, so when the door opened he leaped out and threw the Captain down. In vain, however, for the robbers with their sabers soon killed him. On entering the cave they saw all the bags laid ready, and could not imagine how anyone had got in without knowing their secret. They cut Cassim's body into four quarters, and nailed them up inside the cave, in order to frighten anyone who should venture in, and went away in search of more treasure. As night drew on Cassim's wife grew very uneasy, and ran to her brother-in-law, and told him where her husband had gone. Ali Baba did his best to comfort her, and set out to the forest in search of Cassim. The first thing he saw on entering the cave was his dead brother. Full of horror, he put the body on one of his asses, and bags of gold on the other two, and, covering all with some fagots, returned home. He drove the two asses laden with gold into his own yard, and led the other to Cassim's house. The door was opened by the slave Morgiana, whom he knew to be both brave and cunning. Unloading the ass, he said to her, 'This is the body of your master, who has been murdered, but whom we must bury as though he had died in his bed. I will speak with you again, but now tell your mistress I am come.' The wife of Cassim, on learning the fate of her husband, broke out into cries and tears, but Ali Baba offered to take her to live with him and his wife if she would promise to keep his counsel and leave everything to Morgiana; whereupon she agreed, and dried her eyes. Morgiana, meanwhile, sought an apothecary and asked him for some lozenges. 'My poor master,' she said, 'can neither eat nor speak, and no one knows what his distemper is.' She carried home the lozenges and returned next day weeping, and asked for an essence only given to those just about to die. Thus, in the evening, no one was surprised to hear the wretched shrieks and cries of Cassim's wife and Morgiana, telling everyone that Cassim was dead. The day after Morgiana went to an old cobbler near the gates of the town who opened his stall early, put a piece of gold in his hand, and bade him follow her with his needle and thread. Having bound his eyes with a handkerchief, she took him to the room where the body lay, pulled off the bandage, and bade him sew the quarters together, after which she covered his eyes again and led him home. Then they buried Cassim, and Morgiana his slave followed him to the grave, weeping and tearing her hair, while Cassim's wife stayed at home uttering lamentable cries. Next day she went to live with Ali Baba, who gave Cassim's shop to his eldest son. The Forty Thieves, on their return to the cave, were much astonished to find Cassim's body gone and some of their money-bags. 'We are certainly discovered,' said the Captain, 'and shall be undone if we cannot find out who it is that knows our secret. Two men must have known it; we have killed one, we must now find the other. To this end one of you who is bold and artful must go into the city dressed as a traveler, and discover whom we have killed, and whether men talk of the strange manner of his death. If the messenger fails he must lose his life, lest we be betrayed.' One of the thieves started up and offered to do this, and after the rest had highly commended him for his bravery he disguised himself, and happened to enter the town at daybreak, just by Baba Mustapha's stall. The thief bade him good-day, saying, 'Honest man, how can you possibly see to stitch at your age?' 'Old as I am,' replied the cobbler, 'I have very good eyes, and will you believe me when I tell you that I sewed a dead body together in a place where I had less light than I have now.' The robber was overjoyed at his good fortune, and, giving him a piece of gold, desired to be shown the house where he stitched up the dead body. At first Mustapha refused, saying that he had been blindfolded; but when the robber gave him another piece of gold he began to think he might remember the turnings if blindfolded as before. This means succeeded; the robber partly led him, and was partly guided by him, right in front of Cassim's house, the door of which the robber marked with a piece of chalk. Then, well pleased, he bade farewell to Baba Mustapha and returned to the forest. By and by Morgiana, going out, saw the mark the robber had made, quickly guessed that some mischief was brewing, and fetching a piece of chalk marked two or three doors on each side, without saying anything to her master or mistress. The thief, meantime, told his comrades of his discovery. The Captain thanked him, and bade him show him the house he had marked. But when they came to it they saw that five or six of the houses were chalked in the same manner. The guide was so confounded that he knew not what answer to make, and when they returned he was at once beheaded for having failed. Another robber was dispatched, and, having won over Baba Mustapha, marked the house in red chalk; but Morgiana being again too clever for them, the second messenger was put to death also. The Captain now resolved to go himself, but, wiser than the others, he did not mark the house, but looked at it so closely that he could not fail to remember it. He returned, and ordered his men to go into the neighboring villages and buy nineteen mules, and thirty-eight leather jars, all empty except one, which was full of oil. The Captain put one of his men, fully armed, into each, rubbing the outside of the jars with oil from the full vessel. Then the nineteen mules were loaded with thirty-seven robbers in jars, and the jar of oil, and reached the town by dusk. The Captain stopped his mules in front of Ali Baba's house, and said to Ali Baba, who was sitting outside for coolness, 'I have brought some oil from a distance to sell at tomorrow's market, but it is now so late that I know not where to pass the night, unless you will do me the favor to take me in.' Though Ali Baba had seen the Captain of the robbers in the forest, he did not recognize him in the disguise of an oil merchant. He bade him welcome, opened his gates for the mules to enter, and went to Morgiana to bid her prepare a bed and supper for his guest. He brought the stranger into his hall, and after they had supped went again to speak to Morgiana in the kitchen, while the Captain went into the yard under pretense of seeing after his mules, but really to tell his men what to do. Beginning at the first jar and ending at the last, he said to each man, 'As soon as I throw some stones from the window of the chamber where I lie, cut the jars open with your knives and come out, and I will be with you in a trice.' He returned to the house, and Morgiana led him to his chamber. She then told Abdallah, her fellow slave, to set on the pot to make some broth for her master, who had gone to bed. Meanwhile her lamp went out, and she had no more oil in the house. 'Do not be uneasy,' said Abdallah; 'go into the yard and take some out of one of those jars.' Morgiana thanked him for his advice, took the oil pot, and went into the yard. When she came to the first jar the robber inside said softly, 'Is it time?' Any other slave but Morgiana, on finding a man in the jar instead of the oil she wanted, would have screamed and made a noise; but she, knowing the danger her master was in, bethought herself of a plan, and answered quietly, 'Not yet, but presently.' She went to all the jars, giving the same answer, till she came to the jar of oil. She now saw that her master, thinking to entertain an oil merchant, had let thirty-eight robbers into his house. She filled her oil pot, went back to the kitchen, and, having lit her lamp, went again to the oil jar and filled a large kettle full of oil. When it boiled she went and poured enough oil into every jar to stifle and kill the robber inside. When this brave deed was done she went back to the kitchen, put out the fire and the lamp, and waited to see what would happen. In a quarter of an hour the Captain of the robbers awoke, got up, and opened the window. As all seemed quiet, he threw down some little pebbles which hit the jars. He listened, and as none of his men seemed to stir he grew uneasy, and went down into the yard. On going to the first jar and saying, 'Are you asleep?' he smelt the hot boiled oil, and knew at once that his plot to murder Ali Baba and his household had been discovered. He found all the gang was dead, and, missing the oil out of the last jar, became aware of the manner of their death. He then forced the lock of a door leading into a garden, and climbing over several walls made his escape. Morgiana heard and saw all this, and, rejoicing at her success, went to bed and fell asleep. At daybreak Ali Baba arose, and, seeing the oil jars still there, asked why the merchant had not gone with his mules. Morgiana bade him look in the first jar and see if there was any oil. Seeing a man, he started back in terror. 'Have no fear,' said Morgiana; 'the man cannot harm you; he is dead.' Ali Baba, when he had recovered somewhat from his astonishment, asked what had become of the merchant. 'Merchant!' said she, 'he is no more a merchant than I am!' and she told him the whole story, assuring him that it was a plot of the robbers of the forest, of whom only three were left, and that the white and red chalk marks had something to do with it. Ali Baba at once gave Morgiana her freedom, saying that he owed her his life. They then buried the bodies in Ali Baba's garden, while the mules were sold in the market by his slaves. The Captain returned to his lonely cave, which seemed frightful to him without his lost companions, and firmly resolved to avenge them by killing Ali Baba. He dressed himself carefully, and went into the town, where he took lodgings in an inn. In the course of a great many journeys to the forest he carried away many rich stuffs and much fine linen, and set up a shop opposite that of Ali Baba's son. He called himself Cogia Hassan, and as he was both civil and well dressed he soon made friends with Ali Baba's son, and through him with Ali Baba, whom he was continually asking to sup with him. Ali Baba, wishing to return his kindness, invited him into his house and received him smiling, thanking him for his kindness to his son. When the merchant was about to take his leave Ali Baba stopped him, saying, 'Where are you going, sir, in such haste? Will you not stay and sup with me?' The merchant refused, saying that he had a reason; and, on Ali Baba's asking him what that was, he replied, 'It is, sir, that I can eat no victuals that have any salt in them.' 'If that is all,' said Ali Baba, 'let me tell you that there shall be no salt in either the meat or the bread that we eat to-night.' He went to give this order to Morgiana, who was much surprised. 'Who is this man,' she said, 'who eats no salt with his meat?' 'He is an honest man, Morgiana,' returned her master; 'therefore do as I bid you.' But she could not withstand a desire to see this strange man, so she helped Abdallah to carry up the dishes, and saw in a moment that Cogia Hassan was the robber Captain, and carried a dagger under his garment. 'I am not surprised,' she said to herself, 'that this wicked man, who intends to kill my master, will eat no salt with him; but I will hinder his plans.' She sent up the supper by Abdallah, while she made ready for one of the boldest acts that could be thought on. When the dessert had been served, Cogia Hassan was left alone with Ali Baba and his son, whom he thought to make drunk and then to murder them. Morgiana, meanwhile, put on a headdress like a dancing-girl's, and clasped a girdle round her waist, from which hung a dagger with a silver hilt, and said to Abdallah, 'Take your tabor, and let us go and divert our master and his guest.' Abdallah took his tabor and played before Morgiana until they came to the door, where Abdallah stopped playing and Morgiana made a low courtesy. 'Come in, Morgiana,' said Ali Baba, 'and let Cogia Hassan see what you can do'; and, turning to Cogia Hassan, he said, 'She's my slave and my housekeeper.' Cogia Hassan was by no means pleased, for he feared that his chance of killing Ali Baba was gone for the present; but he pretended great eagerness to see Morgiana, and Abdallah began to play and Morgiana to dance. After she had performed several dances she drew her dagger and made passes with it, sometimes pointing it at her own breast, sometimes at her master's, as if it were part of the dance. Suddenly, out of breath, she snatched the tabor from Abdallah with her left hand, and, holding the dagger in her right hand, held out the tabor to her master. Ali Baba and his son put a piece of gold into it, and Cogia Hassan, seeing that she was coming to him, pulled out his purse to make her a present, but while he was putting his hand into it Morgiana plunged the dagger into his heart. 'Unhappy girl!' cried Ali Baba and his son, 'what have you done to ruin us?' 'It was to preserve you, master, not to ruin you,' answered Morgiana. 'See here,' opening the false merchant's garment and showing the dagger; 'see what an enemy you have entertained! Remember, he would eat no salt with you, and what more would you have? Look at him! he is both the false oil merchant and the Captain of the Forty Thieves.' Ali Baba was so grateful to Morgiana for thus saving his life that he offered her to his son in marriage, who readily consented, and a few days after the wedding was celebrated with greatest splendor. At the end of a year Ali Baba, hearing nothing of the two remaining robbers, judged they were dead, and set out to the cave. The door opened on his saying, 'Open Sesame!' He went in, and saw that nobody had been there since the Captain left it. He brought away as much gold as he could carry, and returned to town. He told his son the secret of the cave, which his son handed down in his turn, so the children and grandchildren of Ali Baba were rich to the end of their lives.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
156,Androcles,Aesop,NA,"The Fables of Æsop, selected, told anew, and their history traced by Joseph Jacobs (London: Macmillan and Company, 1902), no. 23, pp. 60-61. First published 1894.","A slave named Androcles once escaped from his master and fled to the forest. As he was wandering about there he came upon a lion lying down moaning and groaning. At first he turned to flee, but finding that the lion did not pursue him, he turned back and went up to him. As he came near, the lion put out his paw, which was all swollen and bleeding, and Androcles found that a huge thorn had got into it, and was causing all the pain. He pulled out the thorn and bound up the paw of the lion, who was soon able to rise and lick the hand of Androcles like a dog. Then the lion took Androcles to his cave, and every day used to bring him meat from which to live. But shortly afterwards both Androcles and the lion were captured, and the slave was sentenced to be thrown to the lion, after the latter had been kept without food for several days. The emperor and all his court came to see the spectacle, and Androcles was led out into the middle of the arena. Soon the lion was let loose from his den, and rushed bounding and roaring towards his victim. But as soon as he came near to Androcles he recognized his friend, and fawned upon him, and licked his hands like a friendly dog. The emperor, surprised at this, summoned Androcles to him, who told him the whole story. Whereupon the slave was pardoned and freed, and the lion let loose to his native forest. Moral: Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
156,Androcles and the Lion,Joseph Jacobs,"Jacobs' story is a reconstruction from various historical sources. In 1912 George Bernard Shaw created a delightful, if irreverent, play, Androcles and the Lion from the traditional tale.","Joseph Jacobs, Europa's Fairy Book (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, © 1916), pp. 107-109. This book was also published under the title European Folk and Fairy Tales.","It happened in the old days at Rome that a slave named Androcles escaped from his master and fled into the forest, and he wandered there for a long time until he was weary and well nigh spent with hunger and despair. Just then he heard a lion near him moaning and groaning and at times roaring terribly. Tired as he was Androcles rose up and rushed away, as he thought, from the lion; but as he made his way through the bushes he stumbled over the root of a tree and fell down lamed, and when he tried to get up there he saw the lion coming towards him, limping on three feet and holding his forepaw in front of him. Poor Androcles was in despair; he had not strength to rise and run away, and there was the lion coming upon him. But when the great beast came up to him instead of attacking him it kept on moaning and groaning and looking at Androcles, who saw that the lion was holding out his right paw, which was covered with blood and much swollen. Looking more closely at it Androcles saw a great big thorn pressed into the paw, which was the cause of all the lion's trouble. Plucking up courage he seized hold of the thorn and drew it out of the lion's paw, who roared with pain when the thorn came out, but soon after found such relief from it that he fawned upon Androcles and showed, in every way that he knew, to whom he owed the relief. Instead of eating him up he brought him a young deer that he had slain, and Androcles managed to make a meal from it. For some time the lion continued to bring the game he had killed to Androcles, who became quite fond of the huge beast. But one day a number of soldiers came marching through the forest and found Androcles, and as he could not explain what he was doing they took him prisoner and brought him back to the town from which he had fled. Here his master soon found him and brought him before the authorities, and he was condemned to death because he had fled from his master. Now it used to be the custom to throw murderers and other criminals to the lions in a huge circus, so that while the criminals were punished the public could enjoy the spectacle of a combat between them and the wild beasts. So Androcles was condemned to be thrown to the lions, and on the appointed day he was led forth into the Arena and left there alone with only a spear to protect him from the lion. The Emperor was in the royal box that day and gave the signal for the lion to come out and attack Androcles. But when it came out of its cage and got near Androcles, what do you think it did? Instead of jumping upon him it fawned upon him and stroked him with its paw and made no attempt to do him any harm. It was of course the lion which Androcles had met in the forest. The Emperor, surprised at seeing such a strange behavior in so cruel a beast, summoned Androcles to him and asked him how it happened that this particular lion had lost all its cruelty of disposition. So Androcles told the Emperor all that had happened to him and how the lion was showing its gratitude for his having relieved it of the thorn. Thereupon the Emperor pardoned Androcles and ordered his master to set him free, while the lion was taken back into the forest and let loose to enjoy liberty once more.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
156,Of the Remembrance of Benefits,Gesta Romanorum,"The Gesta Romanorum or 'Deeds of the Romans' is a collection of some 283 legends and fables. Created as a collection ca. 1330 in England, it served as a source of stories and plots for many of Europe's greatest writers.","Gesta Romanorum, translated by Charles Swan, revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 104, pp. 180-81.","There was a knight who devoted much of his time to hunting. It happened one day, as he was pursuing this diversion, that he was met by a lame lion, who showed him his foot. The knight dismounted, and drew from it a sharp thorn; and then applied an unguent to the wound, which speedily healed it. A while after this, the king of the country hunted in the same wood, and caught that lion, and held him captive for many years. Now, the knight, having offended the king, fled from his anger to the very forest in which he had been accustomed to hunt. There he betook himself to plunder, and spoiled and slew a multitude of travelers. But the king's sufferance was exhausted; he sent out an army, captured, and condemned him to be delivered to a fasting lion. The knight was accordingly thrown into a pit, and remained in terrified expectation of the hour when he should be devoured. But the lion, considering him attentively, and remembering his former friend, fawned upon him; and remained seven days with him destitute of food. When this reached the ears of the king, he was struck with wonder, and directed the knight to be taken from the pit. 'Friend,' said he, 'by what means have you been able to render the lion harmless?' 'As I once rode along the forest, my lord, that lion met me lame. I extracted from his foot a large thorn, and afterward healed the wound, and therefore he has spared me.' 'Well,' returned the king, 'since the lion has spared you, I will for this time ratify your pardon. Study to amend your life.' The knight gave thanks to the king, and ever afterwards conducted himself with all propriety. He lived to a good old age, and ended his days in peace. Application: My beloved, the knight is the world; the lame lion is the human race; the thorn, original sin, drawn out by baptism. The pit represents penitence, whence safety is derived. The Gesta Romanorum or 'Deeds of the Romans' is a collection of some 283 legends and fables. Created as a collection ca. 1330 in England, it served as a source of stories and plots for many of Europe's greatest writers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
156,The Lion and the Saint,Andrew Lang,Link to a painting of Saint Jerome by Niccolò Antonio Colantonio.,"Andrew Lang, The Red Book of Animal Stories (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1899), pp. 138-42.","If you should have the opportunity of seeing any large picture gallery abroad, or our own National Gallery in London, you will be very likely to come across some picture by one or other 'old master' representing an old man, with a long beard, sometimes reading or writing in a study, sometimes kneeling in a bare desert-place; but wherever he may be, or whatever he may be doing, there is almost always a lion with him. The old man with the beard is St. Jerome, who lived fifteen hundred years ago, and I want now to tell you why a lion generally appears in any picture of him. At one time of his life, St. Jerome lived in a monastery he had founded at Bethlehem. One day he and some of his monks were sitting to enjoy the cool of the evening at the gate of the monastery when a big lion suddenly appeared walking up to them. The monks were horribly frightened, and scampered off as fast as they could to take refuge indoors; but St. Jerome had noticed that as the lion walked he limped as though in pain, and the Saint, who always tried to help those in trouble, waited to see what he could do for the poor animal. The lion came near, and when he was quite close he held up one paw and looked plaintively at the men. St. Jerome fearlessly took the paw on his lap, and, on examining it, found a large thorn, which he pulled out, binding up the injured limb. The wound was rather a bad one, but St. Jerome kept the lion with him and nursed him carefully till he was quite well again. The lion was so grateful, and became so much attached to his kind doctor, that he would not leave him, but stayed on in the monastery. Now, in this house no one, from the highest to the lowest, man or beast, was allowed to lead an idle life. It was not easy to find employment for a lion; but at length a daily task was found for him. This was to guard and watch over the ass, who each day carried in the firewood which was cut and gathered in the forest. The lion and ass became great friends, and no doubt the ass felt much comfort in having such a powerful protector. But it happened, on one very hot summer's day, that whilst the ass was at pasture the lion fell asleep. Some merchants were passing that way and seeing the ass grazing quietly, and apparently alone, they stole her and carried her off with them. In due time the lion awoke; but when he looked for the ass she was not to be seen. In vain he roamed about, seeking everywhere; he could not find her; and when evening came he had to return to the monastery alone, and with his head and tail drooping to show how ashamed he felt. As he could not speak to explain matters, St. Jerome feared that he had not been able to resist the temptation to eat raw flesh once more, and that he had devoured the poor ass. He therefore ordered that the lion should perform the daily task of his missing companion, and carry the firewood instead of her. The lion meekly submitted, and allowed the load of faggots to be tied on his back, and carried them safely home. As soon as he was unloaded he would run about for some time, still hoping to find the ass. One day, as he was hunting about in this fashion, he saw a caravan coming along with a string of camels. The camels, as was usual in some places, were led by an ass, and to the lion's joy he recognised his lost friend. He instantly fell on the caravan, and, without hurting any of the camels, succeeded in frightening them all so completely that he had no difficulty in driving them into the monastery where St. Jerome met them. The merchants, much alarmed, confessed their theft, and St. Jerome forgave them, and was very kind to them; but the ass, of course, returned to her former owners. And the lion was much petted and praised for his goodness and cleverness, and lived with St. Jerome till the end of his life.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
156,The Lion and the Thorn,Ambrose Bierce,Link to an article about Ambrose Bierce.,"Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), pp. 170-71.","A lion roaming through the forest, got a thorn in his foot, and, meeting a shepherd, asked him to remove it. The shepherd did so, and the lion, having just surfeited himself on another shepherd, went away without harming him. Some time afterward the shepherd was condemned on a false accusation to be cast to the lions in the amphitheater. When they were about to devour him, one of them said, 'This is the man who removed the thorn from my foot.' Hearing this, the others honorably abstained, and the claimant ate the shepherd all himself.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
156,The Slave and the Lion,Aesop,NA,"Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann, 1912), pp. 31-32.","A slave ran away from his master, by whom he had been most cruelly treated, and, in order to avoid capture, betook himself into the desert. As he wandered about in search of food and shelter, he came to a cave, which he entered and found to by unoccupied. Really, however, it was a lion's den, and almost immediately, to the horror of the wretched fugitive, the lion himself appeared. The man gave himself up for lost. But, to his utter astonishment, the lion, instead of springing upon him, came and fawned upon him, at the same time whining and lifting up his paw. Observing it to be much swollen and inflamed, he examined it and found a large thorn embedded in the ball of the foot. He accordingly removed it and dressed the wound as well as he could. And in course of time it healed up completely. The lion's gratitude was unbounded. He looked upon the man as his friend, and they shared the cave for some time together. A day came, however, when the slave began to long for the society of his follow men, and he bade farewell to the lion and returned to the town. Here he was presently recognized and carried off in chains to his former master, who resolved to make an example of him, and ordered that he should be thrown to the beasts at the next public spectacle in the theater. On the fatal day the beasts were loosed into the arena, and among the rest a lion of huge bulk and ferocious aspect. And then the wretched slave was cast in among them. What was the amazement of the spectators, when the lion after one glance bounded up to him and lay down at his feet with every expression of affection and delight! It was his old friend of the cave! The audience clamored that the slave's life should be spared. And the governor of the town, marveling at such gratitude and fidelity in a beast, decreed that both should receive their liberty.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,Chonguita the Monkey Wife (Fansler),Philippines,"Fansler's source: 'Narrated by Pilar Ejercito, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She heard the story from her aunt, who had heard it when she was still a little girl.' Fansler entitles this story simply 'Chonguita.' For comparison, follow this link to a collection of tales about Monkey Bridegrooms.","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 29, pp. 244-246.","There was a king who had three sons, named Pedro, Diego, and Juan. One day the king ordered these three gentlemen to set out from the kingdom and seek their fortunes. The three brothers took different directions, but before they separated they agreed to meet in a certain place in the forest. After walking for many days, Don Juan met an old man on the road. This old man gave Don Juan bread, and told him to go to a palace which was a mile away. 'But as you enter the gate,' said the old man, 'you must divide the bread which I have given you among the monkeys which are guarding the gate to the palace; otherwise you will not be able to enter.' Don Juan took the bread; and when he reached the palace, he did as the old man had advised him. After entering the gate, he saw a big monkey. Frightened at the sight of the animal, Don Juan was about to run away, when the animal called to him, and said, 'Don Juan, I know that your purpose in coming here was to find your fortune; and at this very moment my daughter Chonguita will marry you.' The archbishop of the monkeys was called, and Don Juan and Chonguita were married without delay. A few days afterwards Don Juan asked permission from his wife to go to the place where he and his brothers had agreed to meet. When Chonguita's mother heard that Don Juan was going away, she said to him, 'If you are going away, take Chonguita with you.' Although Don Juan was ashamed to go with Chonguita because she was a monkey, he was forced to take her, and they set out together. When Don Juan met his two brothers and their beautiful wives at the appointed place, he could not say a word. Don Diego, noticing the gloomy appearance of his brother, said, 'What is the matter with you? Where is your wife, Don Juan?' Don Juan sadly replied, 'Here she is.' 'Where?' asked Don Pedro. 'Behind me,' replied Don Juan. When Don Pedro and Don Diego saw the monkey, they were very much surprised. 'Oh!' exclaimed Don Pedro. 'What happened to you? Did you lose your head?' Don Juan could say nothing to this question. At last, however, he broke out, 'Let us go home! Our father must be waiting for us.' So saying, Don Juan turned around and began the journey. Don Pedro and Don Diego, together with their wives, followed Don Juan. Chonguita walked by her husband's side. When the return of the three brothers was announced to the king, the monarch hastened to meet them on the stairs. Upon learning that one of his sons had married a monkey, the king fainted; but after he had recovered his senses, he said to himself, 'This misfortune is God's will. I must therefore bear it with patience.' The king then assigned a house to each couple to live in. But the more the king thought of it, the greater appeared to be the disgrace that his youngest son had brought on the family. So one day he called his three sons together, and said to them, 'Tell your wives that I want each one of them to make me an embroidered coat. The one who fails to do this within three days will be put to death.' Now, the king issued this order in the hope that Chonguita would be put to death, because he thought that she would not be able to make the coat; but his hope was disappointed. On the third day his daughters-in-law presented to him the coats that they had made, and the one embroidered by Chonguita was the prettiest of all. Still anxious to get rid of the monkey wife, the king next ordered his daughters-in-law to embroider a cap for him in two days, under penalty of death in case of failure. The caps were all done on time. At last, thinking of no other way by which he could accomplish his end, the king summoned his three daughters-in-law, and said, 'The husband of the one who shall be able to draw the prettiest picture on the walls of my chamber within three days shall succeed me on the throne.' At the end of the three days the pictures were finished. When the king went to inspect them, he found that Chonguita's was by far the prettiest, and so Don Juan was crowned king. A great feast was held in the palace in honor of the new king. In the midst of the festivities Don Juan became very angry with his wife for insisting that he dance with her, and he hurled her against the wall. At this brutal action the hall suddenly became dark; but after a while it became bright again, and Chonguita had been transformed into a beautiful woman. New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 29, pp. 244-246. Pagsanjan, Laguna. She heard the story from her aunt, who had heard it when she was still a little girl.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,Doll i' the Grass (Norway),Norway,"This tale differs from others in this group in that the 'creature' discovered by the hero in his search for a bride is not a creepy, crawly thing, but rather a beautiful -- but diminutive -- human (or possibly elfin) female. However, in all other aspects this story follows the outline of a traditional type 402 folktale. Link to the above tale in Norwegian: Dukken i gresset av Peter Christen Asbjørnsen og Jørgen Moe.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: David Douglas, 1888), pp. 374-376.","Once on a time there was a king who had twelve sons. When they were grown big he told them they must go out into the world and win themselves wives, but these wives must each be able to spin, and weave, and sew a shirt in one day, else he wouldn't have them for daughters-in-law. To each he gave a horse and a new suit of mail, and they went out into the world to look after their brides; but when they had gone a bit of the way, they said they wouldn't have Boots, their youngest brother, with them. He wasn't fit for anything. Well, Boots had to stay behind, and he didn't know what to do or whither to turn; and so he grew so downcast, he got off his horse, and sat down in the tall grass to weep. But when he had sat a little while, one of the tufts in the grass began to stir and move, and out of it came a little white thing, and when it came nearer, Boots saw it was a charming little lassie, only such a tiny bit of a thing. So the lassie went up to him, and asked if he would come down below and see 'Doll i' the Grass.' Yes, he'd be very happy; and so he went. Now, when he got down, there sat Doll i' the Grass on a chair. She was so lovely and so smart, and she asked Boots wither he was going, and what was his business. So he told her how there were twelve brothers of them, and how the king had given them horse and mail, and said they must each go out into the world and find them a wife who could spin, and weave, and sew a shirt in a day. 'But if you'll only say at once you'll be my wife, I'll not go a step farther,' said Boots to Doll i' the Grass. Well, she was willing enough, and so she made haste and span, and wove, and sewed the shirt, but it was so tiny, tiny little. It wasn't longer than so ---- long. So Boots set off home with it, but when he brought it out he was almost ashamed, it was so small. Still the king said he should have her, and so Boots set off, glad and happy to fetch his little sweetheart. So when he got to Doll i' the Grass, he wished to take her up before him on his horse; but she wouldn't have that, for she said she would sit and drive along in a silver spoon, and that she had two small white horses to draw her. So off they set, he on his horse and she on her silver spoon, and the two horses that drew her were two tiny white mice. But Boots always kept the other side of the road, he was so afraid lest he should ride over her, she was so little. So when they had gone a bit of the way, they came to a great piece of water. Here Boots' horse got frightened, and shied across the road and upset the spoon, and Doll i' the Grass tumbled into the water. Then Boots got so sorrowful, because he didn't know how to get her out again. But in a little while up came a merman with her, and now she was as well and full grown as other men and women, and far lovelier than she had been before. So he took her up before him on his horse, and rode home. When Boots got home all his brothers had come back, each with his sweetheart, but these were all so ugly, and foul, and wicked, that they had done nothing but fight with one another on the way home, and on their heads they had a kind of hat that was daubed over with tar and soot, and so the rain had run down off the hats onto their faces, till they got far uglier and nastier than they had been before. When his brothers saw Boots and his sweetheart, they were all as jealous as jealous could be of her; but the king was so overjoyed with them both, that he drove all the others away, and so boots held his wedding feat with Doll i' the Grass, and after that they lived well and happily together a long, long time, and if they're not dead, why they're alive still. Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: David Douglas, 1888), pp. 374-376. This tale differs from others in this group in that the 'creature' discovered by the hero in his search for a bride is not a creepy, crawly thing, but rather a beautiful -- but diminutive -- human (or possibly elfin) female. However, in all other aspects this story follows the outline of a traditional type 402 folktale. gresset av Peter Christen Asbjørnsen og Jørgen Moe.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Cat Who Became a Queen (Knowles),India,NA,"J. Hinton Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1893), pp. 8-10.","'Ah me! Ah me! What availeth my marriage with all these women? Never a son has the Deity vouchsafed me. Must I die, and my name be altogether forgotten in the land?' Thus soliloquized one of the greatest monarchs that ever reigned in Kashmir, and then went to his zanána [the apartment where his wives lived], and threatened his numerous wives with banishment if they did not bear him a son within the next year. The women prayed most earnestly to the god Shiva to help them to fulfil the king's desire, and waited most anxiously for several months, hoping against hope, till at last they knew that it was all in vain, and that they must dissemble matters if they wished to remain in the royal household. Accordingly, on an appointed time, word was sent to the king that one of his wives was enciente, and a little while afterwards the news was spread abroad that a little princess was born. But this, as we have said, was not so. Nothing of the kind had happened. The truth was, that a cat had given birth to a lot of kittens, one of which had been appropriated by the king's wives. When his majesty heard the news he was exceedingly glad, and ordered the child to be brought to him -- a very natural request, which the king's wives had anticipated, and therefore were quite prepared with a reply. 'Go and tell the king,' said they to the messenger, 'that the Brahmans have declared that the child must not be seen by her father until she is married.' Thus the matter was hushed for a time. Constantly did the king inquire after his daughter, and received wonderful accounts of her beauty and cleverness; so that his joy was great. Of course he would like to have had a son, but since the Deity had not condescended to fulfil his desire, he comforted himself with the thought of marrying his daughter to some person worthy of her, and capable of ruling the country after him. Accordingly, at the proper time he commissioned his counselors to find a suitable match for his daughter. A clever, good, and handsome prince was soon found, and arrangements for the marriage were quickly concluded. What were the king's wives to do now? It was of no use for them to attempt to carry on their deceit any longer. The bridegroom would come and would wish to see his wife, and the king, too, would expect to see her. 'Better,' said they, 'that we send for this prince and reveal everything to him, and take our chance of the rest. Never mind the king. Some answer can be made to satisfy him for a while.' So they sent for the prince and told him everything, having previously made him swear that he would keep the secret, and not reveal it even to his father or mother. The marriage was celebrated in grand style, as became such great and wealthy kings, and the king was easily prevailed on to allow the palanquin containing the bride to leave the palace without looking at her. The cat only was in the palanquin, which reached the prince's country in safety. The prince took great care of the animal, which he kept locked up in his own private room, and would not allow anyone, not even his mother, to enter it. One day, however, while the prince was away, his mother thought that she would go and speak to her daughter-in-law from outside the door. 'O daughter-in-law,' she cried, 'I am very sorry that you are shut up in this room and not permitted to see anybody. It must be very dull for you. However, I am going out today; so you can leave the room without fear of seeing anyone. Will you come out?' The cat understood everything, and wept much, just like a human being. Oh those bitter tears! They pierced the mother's heart, so that she determined to speak very strictly to her son on the matter as soon as he should return. They also reached the ears of Párvatí [the wife of Shiva], who at once went to her lord and entreated him to have mercy on the poor helpless cat. 'Tell her,' said Shiva, 'to rub some oil over her fur, and she will became a beautiful woman. She will find the oil in the room where she now is.' Párvatí lost no time in disclosing this glad news to the cat, who quickly rubbed the oil over its body, and was changed into the most lovely woman that ever lived. But she left a little spot on one of her shoulders which remained covered with cat's fur, lest her husband should suspect some trickery and deny her. In the evening the prince returned and saw his beautiful wife, and was delighted. Then all anxiety as to what he should reply to his mother's earnest solicitations fled. She had only to see the happy, smiling, beautiful bride to know that her fears were altogether needless. In a few weeks the prince, accompanied by his wife, visited his father-in-law, who, of course, believed the princess to be his own daughter, and was glad beyond measure. His wives too rejoiced, because their prayer had been heard and their lives saved. In due time the king settled his country on the prince, who eventually ruled over both countries, his father's and his father-in-law's, and thus became the most illustrious and wealthy monarch in the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Dog Bride (Bompas),India,"From the preface: 'The Santals are a Munda tribe, a branch of that aboriginal element which probably entered India from the northeast. At the present day they inhabit the eastern outskirts of the Chutia Nagpore plateau.... The Santal Parganas is a district 4800 square miles in area, lying about 150 miles north of Calcutta.'","Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 85, pp. 254-256.","Once upon a time there was a youth who used to herd buffaloes; and as he watched his animals graze he noticed that exactly at noon every day a she-dog used to make its way to a ravine, in which there were some pools of water. This made him curious and he wondered to whom it belonged and what it did in the ravine. So he decided to watch, and one day when the dog came he hid himself and saw that when it got to the water, it shed its dog skin, and out stepped a beautiful maiden and began to bathe. And when she had finished bathing she put on the skin and became a dog again, and went off to the village. The herdboy followed her and watched into what house she entered, and he inquired to whom the house belonged. Having found out all about it, he went back to his work. That year the herdboy's father and mother decided that it was time for him to marry and began to look about for a wife for him. But he announced that he had made up his mind to have a dog for his wife, and he would never marry a human girl. Everyone laughed at him for such an extraordinary idea, but he could not be moved. So at last they concluded that he must really have the soul of a dog in him, and that it was best to let him have his own way. So his father and mother asked him whether there was any particular dog he would like to have for his bride, and then he gave the name of the man into whose house he had tracked the dog that he had seen going to the ravine. The master of the dog laughed at the idea that anyone should wish to marry her, and gladly accepted a bride's price for her. So a day was fixed for the wedding and the booth built for the ceremony, and the bridegroom's party went to the bride's house, and the marriage took place in due form, and the bride was escorted to her husband's house. Every night when her husband was asleep, the bride used to come out of the dog's skin and go out of the house. And when her husband found out this, he one night only pretended to go to sleep and lay watching her. And when she was about to leave the room he jumped up and caught hold of her and seizing the dog skin, threw it into the fire, where it was burnt to ashes. So his bride remained a woman, but she was of more than human beauty. This soon became known in the village, and everyone congratulated the herdboy on his wisdom in marrying a dog. Now the herdboy had a friend named Jitu, and when Jitu saw what a prize his friend had got, he thought that he could not do better than marry a dog himself. His relations made no objection, and a bride was selected, and the marriage took place, but when they were putting vermilion on the bride's forehead she began to growl; but in spite of her growling they dragged her to the bridegroom's house, and forcibly anointed her with oil and turmeric. But when the bride's party set off home, the dog broke loose and ran after them. Then everyone shouted to Jitu to run after his bride and bring her back, but she only growled and bit at him, so that he had at last to give it up. Then everyone laughed at him so much that he was too ashamed to speak, and two or three days later he hanged himself. (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 85, pp. 254-256. From the preface: 'The Santals are a Munda tribe, a branch of that aboriginal element which probably entered India from the northeast. At the present day they inhabit the eastern outskirts of the Chutia Nagpore plateau.... The Santal Parganas is a district 4800 square miles in area, lying about 150 miles north of Calcutta.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Frog (Schneller),Austria/Italy,NA,"Christian Schneller, Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol: Ein Beitrag zur deutschen Sagenkunde (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 29, pp. 82-84.","A man and a woman had no children, although they would have given their lives to have some. They prayed for offspring, under any conditions. It appeared that heaven had mercy on them, but when the time came, the newborn was a female frog. Not letting themselves be distracted, the man and the woman raised her. They taught her music and all kinds of skills. Above all else the frog loved to sing, and she trained her voice and her range until one would think she was the best singer from the city. Other people had not seen the frog and thought indeed that she was an unknown singer and could not explain why she did not perform in public. One day the king's son passed by the house and heard the frog singing. He stopped and listened for a long time. He immediately fell in love with the unknown singer and approached her father with a request for permission to see her and speak with her, but the father refused. The prince heard her sing again and fell even more deeply in love with her. He demanded that her father give her to him in marriage. The father replied that he would have to ask his daughter. The frog agreed under the conditions that she be taken to the royal castle in an enclosed carriage and that she be allowed to enter the bridal chamber without being seen. The prince, his curiosity even more aroused, accepted the conditions. On the appointed day the frog rode to the royal castle in a tightly enclosed carriage and made her way to the splendid bridal chamber without being seen. She hid herself in one of the two beds that were there. The prince came that evening and was astonished when he could not find his bride. Disappointed, he went to bed. At midnight the frog crept out of the cushions and onto the prince's breast. Half asleep, he took the frog into his hand and threw her to the floor. She hopped angrily down the steps and home. The next morning the prince was sorry that he had thrown the frog to the floor, and he became sad and melancholy. Some time later he went back to the house. Hearing singing, he fell madly in love and began courting his bride anew. The frog accepted, this time without setting any conditions. She made a little carriage out of cardboard, hitched a rooster to it, and drove it herself to the royal castle. Three fairies were standing in the road. One of them had swallowed a fishbone, which stuck in her throat and was causing her great pain. When the three of them saw the frog driving by in her little carriage and cracking her whip so merrily, they all laughed out with joy. The fishbone dislodged itself from the one fairy's throat, freeing her suddenly of her pain. They approached the frog, and the first one said, 'I will give you a beautiful carriage with horses and servants!' And in an instant a carriage was there with horses and servants in beautiful livery. Then the second one said, 'I will give you expensive clothes and gold and silver!' And in an instant it was all there, gleaming and shimmering, and it was such a joy. Then came the third fairy, the one who had been freed of the fishbone by laughing, and she said, 'I will transform you!' In that instant the frog became a beautiful maiden. She graciously thanked the three kind fairies and drove happily to the royal castle and to her jubilant and joyful wedding. Wälschtirol: Ein Beitrag zur deutschen Sagenkunde (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 29, pp. 82-84.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Frog's Bridegroom (Jungbauer),Germany,NA,"Gustav Jungbauer, Böhmerwald-Märchen (Passau, 1923), no. 1.","Once upon a time there was a father who had three sons. He sent two of them out to find brides for themselves, but the third one, stupid Hansl, was to stay home and feed the animals. He was not satisfied with this, so the father finally said, 'Just go. You can look for a bride too.' So Hansl left, and he came to a great forest. On the other side of the forest there was a pond. A frog was sitting on the pond's bank, and it asked, 'Now there, Hansl, where are you going?' 'Oh, I'm looking for a bride!' 'Marry me!' said the frog, and this was all right with Hansl, because he did not know where he might find a bride. The frog jumped into the pond, and Hansl went back home. His brothers were already there, and they wanted to know if the fool had found a bride. 'Yes,' said Hansl, 'I have one already!' The next day the father gave each one a bundle of flax, saying, 'I will give the house to the one of you whose bride can spin the most beautiful yarn in three days.' Then each one left, including Hansl. The frog was again sitting on the bank of the pond. 'Now there, bridegroom, where are you going?' 'To you. Can you spin?' 'Yes,' said the frog. Just tie the flax onto my back.' Hansl did this, and the frog jumped into the pond. One strand of flax was sticking out below and the other one above. 'Too bad about the flax. It's gone,' thought Hans, and he sadly went back home. But nonetheless, on the third day he returned to the pond. The frog was again sitting on the bank, and it asked, 'Now there, bridegroom, where are you going?' 'Have you spun?' 'Yes,' said the frog, hopped into the pond, and returned with a skein of yarn that was more beautifully spun than any other. Hans was happy, and he joyfully ran back home, and he did indeed have the most beautiful yarn. The brothers complained, and then the father said, 'I will give the house to the one of you who brings home the most beautiful bride.' The brothers left once again, but this time Hansl took a water jug with him. The other two wanted to know, 'Why are you taking a water jug with you?' 'To put my bride in.' The two laughed, 'He must have some beautiful bride!' The frog was already sitting next to the pond. 'Now there, bridegroom, where are you going?' 'Today I am coming for you!' Then the frog jumped into the pond and came back with three keys. 'Go up there,' it said. 'There is a castle up there. One of these three keys unlocks the living room, one unlocks the stall, and one unlocks the carriage house. In the living room there are three robes: a red one, a green one, and a white one. In the stall there are two white horses, two black ones, and two brown ones. In the carriage house are three coaches: one of gold, one of silver, and one of glass. In each place you can take what you want.' Once in the castle Hansl first tried on the red robe, but he did not like it: 'It makes me look like a butcher.' He did not like the green one either: 'It makes me look like a hunter.' The white one suited him well. Then he went to the stall and took the brown horses. In the carriage house he first wanted to take the golden coach, but it was too lordly for him. The silver one was too heavy, so he took the glass one. He hitched up the brown horses and drove to the pond. A beautiful young woman was standing there. She said, 'You have redeemed me. If you had taken the best thing in each place then I would have had to remain a frog. And the great forest is a fruit orchard, and the pond is a rose garden. All this belongs to you. Let your brothers have the house. You can marry anyone you want to.' 'No, you must come with me, so that my father and my brothers can see you.' So she rode off with him. The father and the brothers were amazed when they saw Hansl with the beautiful young woman in the coach. But she suddenly disappeared and flew into the air as a white dove. Hansl gave the house to his brothers. He married a woman from his estate and was very happy. And if he hasn't died, then he still must be alive. 1923), no. 1.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Frog's Skin (Wardrop),Georgia,NA,"Marjory Wardrop, Georgian Folk Tales (London, 1894), pp. 15-21.","There were once three brothers who wished to marry. They said, 'Let us each shoot an arrow, and each shall take his wife from the place where the arrow falls.' They shot their arrows; those of the two elder brothers fell on noblemen's houses, while the youngest brother's arrow fell in a lake. The two elder brothers led home their noble wives, and the youngest went to the shore of the lake. He saw a frog creep out of the lake and sit down upon a stone. He took it up and carried it back to the house. All the brothers came home with what fate had given them; the elder brothers with the noble maidens, and the youngest with a frog. The brothers went out to work. The wives prepared the dinner and attended to all their household duties. The frog sat by the fire croaking, and its eyes glittered. Thus they lived together a long time in love and harmony. At last the sisters-in-law wearied of the sight of the frog. When they swept the house, they threw out the frog with the dust. If the youngest brother found it, he took it up in his hand; if not, the frog would leap back to its place by the fire and begin to croak. The noble sisters did not like this, and said to their husbands, 'Drive this frog out, and get a real wife for your brother.' Every day the brothers bothered the youngest. He replied, saying, 'This frog is certainly my fate. I am worthy of no better. I must be faithful to it.' His sisters-in-law persisted in telling their husbands that the brother and his frog must be sent away, and at last they agreed. The young brother was now left quite desolate. There was no one to make his food, no one to stand watching at the door. For a short time a neighboring woman came to wait upon him, but she had not time, so he was left alone. The man became very melancholy. Once when he was thinking sadly of his loneliness, he went to work. When he had finished his day's labor, he went home. He looked into his house and was struck with amazement. The sideboard was well replenished; in one place was spread a cloth, and on the cloth were many different kinds of tempting dishes. He looked and saw the frog in its place croaking. He said to himself that his sisters-in-law must have done this for him, and went to his work again. He was out all day working, and when he came home he always found everything prepared for him. Once he said to himself, 'I will see for once who is this unseen benefactor, who comes to do good to me and look after me.' That day he stayed at home; he seated himself on the roof of the house and watched. In a short time the frog leaped out of the fireplace, jumped over to the doors, and all around the room. Seeing no one there, it went back and took off the frog's skin, put it near the fire, and came forth a beautiful maiden, fair as the sun; so lovely was she that the man could not imagine anything prettier. In the twinkling of an eye she had tidied everything, prepared the food, and cooked it. When everything was ready, she went to the fire, put on the skin again, and began to croak. When the man saw this he was very much astonished; he rejoiced exceedingly that God had granted him such happiness. He descended from the roof, went in, caressed his frog tenderly, and then sat down to his tasty supper. The next day the man hid himself in the place where he had been the day before. The frog, having satisfied itself that nobody was there, stripped off its skin and began its good work. This time the man stole silently into the house, seized the frog's skin in his hand and threw it into the fire. When the maiden saw this she entreated him, she wept, and she said, 'Do not burn it, or you shall surely be destroyed,' but the man had burned it in a moment. 'Now, if your happiness be turned to misery, it is not my fault,' said the sorrow-stricken woman. In a very short time the whole countryside knew that the man who had a frog now possessed in its place a lovely woman, who had come to him from heaven. The lord of the country heard of this, and wished to take her from him. He called the beautiful woman's husband to him and said, 'Sow a barnful of wheat in a day, or give me your wife.' When he had spoken thus, the man was obliged to consent, and he went home melancholy. When he went in he told his wife what had taken place. She reproached him, saying, 'I told you what would happen if you did burn the skin, and you did not heed me; but I will not blame you. Be not sad; go in the morning to the edge of the lake from which I came, and call out, 'Mother and Father! I pray you, lend me your swift bullocks.' Lead them away with you, and the bullocks will in one day plow the fields and sow the grain.' The husband did this. He went to the edge of the lake and called out, 'Mother and Father! I entreat you, lend me your swift bullocks today.' There came forth from the lake such a team of oxen as was never seen on sea or land. The youth drove the bullocks away, came to his lord's field, and plowed and sowed them in one day. His lord was very much surprised. He did not know if there was anything impossible to this man, whose wife he wanted. He called him a second time, and said, 'Go and gather up the wheat you have sown, that not a grain may be wanting, and that the barn may be full. If you do not do this, your wife is mine.' 'This is impossible,' said the man to himself. He went home to his wife, who again reproached him, and then said, 'Go to the lake's edge and ask for the jackdaws.' The husband went to the edge of the lake and called out, 'Mother and Father! I beg you to lend me your jackdaws today.' From the lake came forth flocks of jackdaws; they flew to the plowed ground, each gathered up a seed and put it into the barn. The lord came and cried out, 'There is one seed short; I know each one, and one is missing.' At that moment a jackdaw's caw was heard; it came with the missing seed, but owing to a lame foot it was a little late. The lord was very angry that even the impossible was possible to this man, and could not think what to give him to do. He puzzled his brain until he thought of the following plan. He called the man and said to him, 'My mother, who died in this village, took with her a ring. If you go to the other world and bring that ring back to me, it is well; if not, I shall take away your wife.' The man said to himself, 'This is quite impossible.' He went home and complained to his wife. She reproached him, and then said, 'Go to the lake and ask for the ram.' The husband went to the lake and called out, 'Mother and Father! Give me your ram today, I pray you.' From the lake there came forth a ram with twisted horns; from its mouth issued a flame of fire. It said to the man, 'Mount on my back!' The man sat down, and, quick as lightning, the ram descended towards the lower regions. It went on and shot like an arrow through the earth. They traveled on, and saw in one place a man and woman sitting on a bullock's skin, which was not big enough for them, and they were like to fall off. The man called out to them, 'What can be the meaning of this, that this bullock skin is not big enough for two people?' They said, 'We have seen many pass by like you, but none has returned. When you come back we shall answer your question.' They went on their way and saw a man and woman sitting on an ax handle, and they were not afraid of falling. The man called out to them, 'Are you not afraid of falling from the handle of an ax?' They said to him, 'We have seen many pass by like you, but none has returned. When you come back we shall answer your question.' They went on their way again, until they came to a place where they saw a priest feeding cattle. This priest had such a long beard that it spread over the ground, and the cattle, instead of eating grass, fed on the priest's beard, and he could not prevent it. The man called out, 'Priest, what is the meaning of this? Why is your beard pasture for these cattle?' The priest replied, 'I have seen many pass by like you, but none has returned. When you come back I shall answer your question.' They journeyed on again until they came to a place where they saw nothing but boiling pitch, and a flame came forth from it -- and this was hell. The ram said, 'Sit firmly on my back, for we must pass through this fire.' The man held fast. The ram gave a leap, and they escaped through the fire unhurt. There they saw a melancholy woman seated on a golden throne. She said; 'What is it, my child? What troubles you? What has brought you here?' He told her everything that had happened to him. She said, 'I must punish this very wicked child of mine, and you must take him a casket from me.' She gave him a casket, and said, 'Whatever you do, do not open this casket yourself. Take it with you, give it to your lord, and run quickly away from him.' The man took the casket and went away. He came to the place where the priest was feeding the cattle. The priest said, 'I promised you an answer. Hearken unto my words: In life I loved nothing but myself; I cared for nothing else. My flocks I fed on other pastures than my own, and the neighboring cattle died of starvation. Now I am paying the penalty.' Then he went on to the place where the man and woman were sitting on the handle of the ax. They said, 'We promised you an answer. Hearken unto our words: We loved each other too well on earth, and it is the same with us here.' Then he came to the two seated on the bullock skin, which was not big enough for them. They said, 'We promised you an answer. Hearken unto our words: We despised each other in life, and we equally despise each other here.' At last the man came up on earth, descended from the ram, and went to his lord. He gave him the casket and quickly ran away. The lord opened the casket, and there came forth fire, which swallowed him up. Our brother was thus victorious over his enemy, and no one took his wife from him. They lived lovingly together, and blessed God as their deliverer.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Mouse Maiden (Parker),Sri Lanka,Parker's source: A tom-tom beater from the Northwestern province. Punctuation revised by D. L. Ashliman.,"H. Parker, Village Folk Tales of Ceylon (London: Luzac and Company, 1910), no. 54, pp. 295-298.","There are a king and a queen of a certain city, and there is a daughter of the queen. They asked permission to summon the daughter to go in marriage to the prince of another city. The king said, 'Ha,' so they came from that city to summon the king's princess. After coming, they told the bride to come out of her chamber in order to eat the rice of the wedding feast. The queen said, 'She is eating cooked rice in the house.' Then they told her to come out in order to dress her in the robes sent by the bridegroom. The queen said, 'She is putting on robes in her chamber.' Then they told her to come out in order to go to the bridegroom's city. So the queen told two persons to come, and, having put a female mouseling in an incense box, brought it, and gave it into the hands of the two persons, and said, 'Take this, and until seven days have gone by, do not open the mouth of the box.' Having taken it to the city, when they opened the mouth of the box after seven days, a mouse sprang out, and hid itself among the cooking pots. There was also a servant girl at the prince's house. The girl apportioned and gave cooked rice and vegetable curry to the prince, and covered up the cooking pots containing the rest of the food. Then the mouseling came and, having taken and eaten some of the cooked rice and vegetables, covered up the cooking pots, and went again among the pots. On the following day the same thing occurred. The prince said to the girl, 'Does the mouseling eat the cooked rice? Look and come back.' The girl, having gone and looked, came back and said, 'She has eaten the cooked rice, and covered the cooking pots, and has gone.' The prince said, 'Go also, and eat rice, and come back.' So the girl went and ate rice, and returned. Next day the prince said, 'I am going to cut paddy (growing rice). Remain at the house, and in the evening place the articles for cooking near the hearth.' Then the prince went. Afterwards, in the evening, the girl placed the things for cooking near the hearth, and went out of the way. The mouseling came, and cooked, and placed the food ready, and again went behind the pots. After evening had come, that girl apportioned and gave the rice to the prince. The prince ate, and told the girl, 'Go also, and eat rice, and come back.' So the girl went and ate rice, and, having covered the cooking pots, came to the place where the prince was. Then the mouseling came and ate rice, and covered up the pots. After that, she said to the other mice, 'Let us go and cut the paddy,' and, collecting a great number of mice, cut all the paddy, and again returned to the house, and stayed among the pots. Next day when the prince went to the rice field to cut the paddy, all had been cut. Afterwards the prince came back, and, saying 'Let us go and collect and stack the paddy,' collected the men, and stacked it, and threshed it by trampling it with buffaloes. Then they went and called the women, and, having got rid of the chaff in the wind, brought the paddy home. After they had brought it, the prince went near the place where the cooking pots were stored, at which the mouseling was hidden, and said, 'Having pounded this paddy to remove the husk, and cooked rice, let us go to your village to present it to your parents as the first-fruits.' The mouseling said, 'I will not. You go.' So the prince told the girl to pound the paddy and cook rice, and having done this she gave it to the prince. The prince took the package of cooked rice, and went to the mouseling's village, and gave it to the mouseling's mother. The queen asked at the hand of the prince, 'Where is the girl?' The prince said, 'She refused to come.' The queen said, 'Go back to the city, and, having placed the articles for cooking near the hearth, get hid, and stay in the house.' After the prince returned to the city, he did as she had told him. The mouseling, having come out, took off her mouse jacket, and, assuming her shape as a girl, put on other clothes. While she was preparing to cook, the prince took the mouse jacket and burnt it. Afterwards, when the girl went to the place where the mouse jacket had been, and looked for it, it was not there. Then she looked in the hearth, and saw that there was one sleeve in it. While she was there weeping and weeping, the prince came forward and said, 'Your mother told me to burn the mouse jacket.' So the mouseling became the princess again, and the prince and princess remained there.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The She-Wolf (Shewolf),Croatia,"The motif of the stolen skin is also found in many tales from the Swan Maiden and the Mermaid Wife groups. 'The She-Wolf' is, of course, a variant of the many werewolf legends that exist throughout Europe. Link to additional werewolf legends.","A. H. Wratislaw, Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources (London: Elliot Stock, 1889), pp. 290-291.","There was an enchanted mill, so that no one could stay there, because a she-wolf always haunted it. A soldier went once into the mill to sleep. He made a fire in the parlor, went up into the garret above, bored a hole with an auger in the floor, and peeped down into the parlor. A she-wolf came in and looked about the mill to see whether she could find anything to eat. She found nothing, and then went to the fire, and said, 'Skin down! Skin down! Skin down!' She raised herself upon her hind-legs, and her skin fell down. She took the skin, and hung it on a peg, and out of the wolf came a damsel. The damsel went to the fire, and fell asleep there. He came down from the garret, took the skin, nailed it fast to the mill-wheel, then came into the mill, shouted over her, and said, 'Good morning, damsel! How do you do? She began to scream, 'Skin on me! Skin on me! Skin on me!' But the skin could not come down, for it was fast nailed. The pair married and had two children. As soon as the elder son got to know that his mother was a wolf, he said to her, 'Mamma! Mamma! I have heard that you are a wolf.' His mother replied, 'What nonsense are you talking! How can you say that I am a wolf?' The father of the two children went one day into the field to plow, and his son said, 'Papa, let me, too, go with you.' His father said, 'Come.' When they had come to the field, the son asked his father, 'Papa, is it true that our mother is a wolf?' The father said, 'It is.' The son inquired, 'And where is her skin?' His father said, 'There it is, on the mill-wheel.' No sooner had the son got home, than he said at once to his mother, 'Mamma! Mamma! You are a wolf! I know where your skin is.' His mother asked him, 'Where is my skin?' He said, 'There, on the mill-wheel.' His mother said to him, 'Thank you, sonny, for rescuing me.' Then she went away, and was never heard of more. Maiden and the Mermaid Wife groups. that exist throughout Europe. Link to additional werewolf legends. Wilhelm Grimm, Children's and Household Tales, no. 63). The German text of the above tale: Die drei Federn von den Brüdern Grimm. This is a text from the Projekt Gutenberg-DE. (Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Children's and Household Tales, no. 106). The German text of the above tale: Der arme Müllerbursch und das Kätzchen von den Brüdern Grimm. This is a text from the Projekt Gutenberg-DE.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Tsarevna Frog (Tsarevna),Russia,"Type 402, 'The Animal Bride'; followed by type 302, 'The Giant Whose Heart Was in an Egg.'","Verra Xenophontovna Kalamatiano de Blumenthal, Folk Tales from the Russian (Chicago, New York, and London: Rand, McNally and Compnay, 1903), pp. 13-26.","In old, old Russian tsarstvo, I do not know when, there lived a sovereign prince with the princess his wife. They had three sons, all of them young, and such brave fellows that no pen could describe them. The youngest had the name of Ivan Tsarevitch. One day their father said to his sons: ''My dear boys, take each of you an arrow, draw your strong bow and let your arrow fly; in whatever court it falls, in that court there will be a wife for you.' The arrow of the oldest Tsarevitch fell on a boyar-house just in front of the terem where women live; the arrow of the second Tsarevitch flew to the red porch of a rich merchant, and on the porch there stood a sweet girl, the merchant's daughter. The youngest, the brave Tsarevitch Ivan, had the ill luck to send his arrow into the midst of a swamp, where it was caught by a croaking frog. Ivan Tsarevitch came to his father: 'How can I marry the frog?' complained the son. 'Is she my equal? Certainly she is not.' 'Never mind, 'replied his father. 'You have to marry the frog, for such is evidently your destiny.' Thus the brothers were married: the oldest to a young boyarishnia, a nobleman's child; the second to the merchant's beautiful daughter, and the youngest, Tsarevitch Ivan, to a croaking frog. After a while the sovereign prince called his three sons and said to them: 'Have each of your wives bake a loaf of bread by tomorrow morning.' Ivan returned home. There was no smile on his face, and his brow was clouded. 'C-r-o-a-k! C-r-o-a-k! Dear husband of mine, Tsarevitch Ivan, why so sad?' gently asked the frog. ''Was there anything disagreeable in the palace?' 'Disagreeable indeed,' answered Ivan Tsarevitch; 'the Tsar, my father, wants you to bake a loaf of white bread by tomorrow.' 'Do not worry, Tsarevitch. Go to bed; the morning hour is a better adviser than the dark evening.' The Tsarevitch, taking his wife's advice, went to sleep. Then the frog threw off her frog skin and turned into a beautiful, sweet girl, Vassilissa by name. She now stepped out on the porch and called aloud: 'Nurses and waitresses, come to me at once and prepare a loaf of white bread for tomorrow morning, a loaf exactly like those I used to eat in my royal father's palace.' In the morning Tsarevitch Ivan awoke with the crowing cocks, and you know the cocks and chickens are never late. Yet the loaf was already made, and so fine it was that nobody could even describe it, for only in fairyland one finds such marvelous loaves. It was adorned all about with pretty figures, with towns and fortresses on each side, and within it was white as snow and light as a feather. The Tsar father was pleased and the Tsarevitch received his special thanks. 'Now there is another task,' said the Tsar smilingly. 'Have each of your wives weave a rug by tomorrow.' Tsarevitch Ivan came back to his home. There was no smile on his face and his brow was clouded. 'C-r-o-a-k! C-r-o-a-k! Dear Tsarevitch Ivan, my husband and master, why so troubled again? Was not father pleased?' ''How can I be otherwise? The Tsar, my father, has ordered a rug by tomorrow.' 'Do not worry, Tsarevitch. Go to bed; go to sleep. The morning hour will bring help.' Again the frog turned into Vassilissa, the wise maiden, and again she called aloud: 'Dear nurses and faithful waitresses, come to me for new work. Weave a silk rug like the one I used to sit upon in the palace of the king, my father.' Once said, quickly done. When the cocks began their early 'cock-a-doodle-doo,' Tsarevitch Ivan awoke, and lo! there lay the most beautiful silk rug before him, a rug that no one could begin to describe. Threads of silver and gold were interwoven among bright-colored silken ones, and the rug was too beautiful for anything but to admire. The Tsar father was pleased, thanked his son Ivan, and issued a new order. He now wished to see the three wives of his handsome sons, and they were to present their brides on the next day. The Tsarevitch Ivan returned home. Cloudy was his brow, more cloudy than before. 'C-r-o-a-k! C-r-o-a-k! Tsarevitch, my dear husband and master, why so sad ? Hast thou heard anything unpleasant at the palace?' 'Unpleasant enough, indeed! My father, the Tsar, ordered all of us to present our wives to him. Now tell me, how could I dare go with thee?' 'It is not so bad after all, and could be much worse,' answered the frog, gently croaking. 'Thou shalt go alone and I will follow thee. When thou hearest a noise, a great noise, do not be afraid; simply say: 'There is my miserable froggy coming in her miserable box.'' The two elder brothers arrived first with their wives, beautiful, bright, and cheerful, and dressed in rich garments. Both the happy bridegrooms made fun of the Tsarevitch Ivan. 'Why alone, brother?' they laughingly said to him. 'Why didst thou not bring thy wife along with thee? Was there no rag to cover her? Where couldst thou have gotten such a beauty? We are ready to wager that in all the swamps in the dominion of our father it would be hard to find another one like her.' And they laughed and laughed. Lo! what a noise! The palace trembled, the guests were all frightened. Tsarevitch Ivan alone remained quiet and said: ''No danger; it is my froggy coming in her box.' To the red porch came flying a golden carriage drawn by six splendid white horses, and Vassilissa, beautiful beyond all description, gently reached her hand to her husband. He led her with him to the heavy oak tables, which were covered with snow-white linen and loaded with many wonderful dishes such as are known and eaten only in the land of fairies and never anywhere else. The guests were eating and chatting gaily. Vassilissa drank some wine, and what was left in the tumbler she poured into her left sleeve. She ate some of the fried swan, and the bones she threw into her right sleeve. The wives of the two elder brothers watched her and did exactly the same. When the long, hearty dinner was over, the guests began dancing and singing. The beautiful Vassilissa came forward, as bright as a star, bowed to her sovereign, bowed to the honorable guests and danced with her husband, the happy Tsarevitch Ivan. While dancing, Vassilissa waved her left sleeve and a pretty lake appeared in the midst of the hall and cooled the air. She waved her right sleeve and white swans swam on the water. The Tsar, the guests, the servants, even the gray cat sitting in the corner, all were amazed and wondered at the beautiful Vassilissa. Her two sisters-in-law alone envied her. When their turn came to dance, they also waved their left sleeves as Vassilissa had done, and, oh, wonder! they sprinkled wine all around. They waved their right sleeves, and instead of swans the bones flew in the face of the Tsar father. The Tsar grew very angry and bade them leave the palace. In the meantime Ivan Tsarevitch watched a moment to slip away unseen. He ran home, found the frog skin, and burned it in the fire. Vassilissa, when she came back, searched for the skin, and when she could not find it her beautiful face grew sad and her bright eyes filled with tears. She said to Tsarevitch Ivan, her husband: ''Oh, dear Tsarevitch, what hast thou done? There was but a short time left for me to wear the ugly frog skin. The moment was near when we could have been happy together forever. Now I must bid thee goodbye. Look for me in a faraway country to which no one knows the roads, at the palace of Kostshei the Deathless;' and Vassilissa turned into a white swan and flew away through the window. Tsarevitch Ivan wept bitterly. Then he prayed to the almighty God, and making the sign of the cross northward, southward, eastward, and westward, he went on a mysterious journey. No one knows how long his journey was, but one day he met an old, old man. He bowed to the old man, who said: 'Good-day, brave fellow. What art thou searching for, and whither art thou going?' Tsarevitch Ivan answered sincerely, telling all about his misfortune without hiding anything. ''And why didst thou burn the frog skin? It was wrong to do so. Listen now to me. Vassilissa was born wiser than her own father, and as he envied his daughter's wisdom he condemned her to be a frog for three long years. But I pity thee and want to help thee. Here is a magic ball. In whatever direction this ball rolls, follow without fear.' Ivan Tsarevitch thanked the good old man, and followed his new guide, the ball. Long, very long, was his road. One day in a wide, flowery field he met a bear, a big Russian bear. Ivan Tsarevitch took his bow and was ready to shoot the bear. 'Do not kill me, kind Tsarevitch,' said the bear. 'Who knows but that I maybe useful to thee?' And Ivan did not shoot the bear. Above in the sunny air there flew a duck, a lovely white duck. Again the Tsarevitch drew his bow to shoot it. But the duck said to him: 'Do not kill me, good Tsarevitch. I certainly shall be useful to thee some day.' And this time he obeyed the command of the duck and passed by. Continuing his way he saw a blinking hare. The Tsarevitch prepared an arrow to shoot it, but the gray, blinking hare said: 'Do not kill me, brave Tsarevitch. I shall prove myself grateful to thee in a very short time.' The Tsarevitch did not shoot the hare, but passed by. He walked farther and farther after the rolling ball, and came to the deep blue sea. On the sand there lay a fish. I do not remember the name of the fish, but it was a big fish, almost dying on the dry sand. ' O Tsarevitch Ivan!' prayed the fish, 'have mercy upon me and push me back into the cool sea.' The Tsarevitch did so, and walked along the shore. The ball, rolling all the time, brought Ivan to a hut, a queer, tiny hut standing on tiny hen's feet. 'Izboushka! Izboushka!' -- for so in Russia do they name small huts -- 'Izboushka, I want thee to turn thy front to me,' cried Ivan, and lo! the tiny hut turned its front at once. Ivan stepped in and saw a witch, one of the ugliest witches he could imagine. 'Ho! Ivan Tsarevitch! What brings thee here?' was his greeting from the witch. 'O, thou old mischief!' shouted Ivan with anger. 'Is it the way in holy Russia to ask questions before the tired guest gets something to eat, something to drink, and some hot water to wash the dust off?' Baba Yaga, the witch, gave the Tsarevitch plenty to eat and drink, besides hot water to wash the dust off. Tsarevitch Ivan felt refreshed. Soon he became talkative, and related the wonderful story of his marriage. He told how he had lost his dear wife, and that his only desire was to find her. 'I know all about it,' answered the witch. 'She is now at the palace of Kostshei the Deathless, and thou must understand that Kostshei is terrible. He watches her day and night and no one can ever conquer him. His death depends on a magic needle. That needle is within a hare; that hare is within a large trunk; that trunk is hidden in the branches of an old oak tree; and that oak tree is watched by Kostshei as closely as Vassilissa herself, which means closer than any treasure he has.' Then the witch told Ivan Tsarevitch how and where to find the oak tree. Ivan hastily went to the place. But when he perceived the oak tree he was much discouraged, not knowing what to do or how to begin the work. Lo and behold! that old acquaintance of his, the Russian bear, came running along, approached the tree, uprooted it, and the trunk fell and broke. A hare jumped out of the trunk and began to run fast; but another hare, Ivan's friend, came running after, caught it and tore it to pieces. Out of the hare there flew a duck, a gray one which flew very high and was almost invisible, but the beautiful white duck followed the bird and struck its gray enemy, which lost an egg. That egg fell into the deep sea. Ivan meanwhile was anxiously watching his faithful friends helping him. But when the egg disappeared in the blue waters he could not help weeping. All of a sudden a big fish came swimming up, the same fish he had saved, and brought the egg in his mouth. How happy Ivan was when he took it! He broke it and found the needle inside, the magic needle upon which everything depended. At the same moment Kostshei lost his strength and power forever. Ivan Tsarevitch entered his vast dominions, killed him with the magic needle, and in one of the palaces found his own dear wife, his beautiful Vassilissa. He took her home and they were very happy ever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,Of the Woman Who Loved a Serpent Who Lived in a Lake,Passamaquoddy,The Passamaquoddy Indians formerly occupied an area between present-day Maine and New Brunswick. Today they live primarily in Maine.,"Charles G. Leland, The Algonquin Legends of New England; or, Myths and Folk Lore of the Micmac, Passamaquoddy, and Penobscot Tribes (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1884), pp. 273-274.","This, the sixth, was such a silent man that he passed for a fool. But he was wiser than people thought. He came to believe, by thinking it over, that this woman had some strange secret. He resolved to find it out. So he watched her all the time. He kept his eye on her by night and by day. It was summer, and she proposed to go into the woods to pick berries, and to camp there. By and by, when they were in the forest, she suggested that he should go on to the spot where they intended to remain and build a wigwam. He said that he would do so. But he went a little way into the woods and watched her. As soon as she believed that he was gone, she rose and walked rapidly onwards. He followed her, unseen. She went on, till, in a deep, wild place among the rocks, she came to a pond. She sat down and sang a song. A great foam, or froth, rose to the surface of the water. Then in the foam appeared the tail of a serpent. The creature was of immense size. The woman, who had laid aside all her garments, embraced the serpent, which twined around her, enveloping all her limbs and body in his folds. The husband watched it all. He now understood that, the venom of the serpent having entered the woman, she had saved her life by transferring it to others, who died. He went on to the camping ground and built a wigwam. He made up two beds. He built a fire. His wife came. She was earnest that there should be only a single bed. He sternly bade her lie by herself. She was afraid of him. She laid down and went to sleep. He arose three times during the night to replenish the fire. Every time he called her, and there was no answer. In the morning he shook her. She was dead. She had died by the poison of the serpent. They sunk her in the pond where the snake lived. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Bear Who Married a Woman,Tsimshian,The Tsmimshian Indians are native to the coastal regions of British Columbia and southern Alaska.,"Franz Boas, Tsimshian Mythology (Washington, DC: United States Government Printing Office, 1916), p. 19.","Once upon a time there lived a widow of the tribe of the Gispaxlâ'ts. Many men tried to marry her daughter, but she declined them all. The mother said, 'When a man comes to marry you, feel of the palms of his hands. If they are soft, decline him. If they are rough, accept him.' She meant that she wanted to have for a son-in-law a man skillful in building canoes. Her daughter obeyed her commands and refused the wooings of all young men. One night a youth came to her bed. The palms of his hands were very rough, and therefore she accepted his suit. Early in the morning, however, he had suddenly disappeared, even before she had seen him. When her mother arose early in the morning and went out, she found a halibut on the beach in front of the house, although it was midwinter. The following evening the young man came back, but disappeared again before the dawn of the day. In the morning the widow found a seal in front of the house. Thus they lived for some time. The young woman never saw the face of her husband; but every morning she found an animal on the beach, every day a larger one. Thus the widow came to be very rich. She was anxious to see her son-in-law, and one day she waited until he arrived. Suddenly she saw a red bear emerge from the water. He carried a whale on each side, and put them down on the beach. As soon as he noticed that he was observed, he was transformed into a rock, which may be seen up to this day. He was a supernatural being of the sea. States Government Printing Office, 1916), p. 19. Columbia and southern Alaska.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Bear Woman,Okanagon,"This tale was collected by James A. Teit. The Okanagon tribe belongs to the Salish group. Their territory included present-day British Columbia, northern Washington and Idaho, and western Montana.","Franz Boas, Folk-Tales of Salishan and Sahaptin Tribes = Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, vol. 11 (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), pp. 90-92.","It was late fall, and people were in the mountains hunting. Six people were living together: a man and his wife, his parents, and his two sisters. One day when out hunting, the man came on a patch of lily roots. On his return home he said to his wife, 'I saw a fine patch of large lilies. Tomorrow morning we shall move there and stay for a few days, so that you can dig them.' They set up a lodge near the place. And on the following morning early, on his way to hunt, he showed his wife the place and left her there to dig. In the afternoon a large grizzly bear appeared at the place. The woman was intent on her work and did not notice the bear until he was close to her. He said to her, 'I want you to be my wife.' She agreed, for she knew he would kill her if she refused. He took her on his back and carried her to his house. Towards evening the hunter returned carrying a load of deer meat. His wife was not there. He thought, 'She is late and will come soon.' He roasted meat for both of them. He ate, and then took his bow and arrows and went in search of his wife. He saw where she had been digging roots. He called, but received no answer. It grew dark, and he returned to his camp. He could not sleep. At daybreak he went out again. He saw the tracks of the grizzly bear going away, but no tracks of his wife leaving the spot. He thought she might have gone to his parents' camp, or the bear might have killed her, but he saw neither her tracks nor signs of a struggle with the bear. He went to the camp. His father told him that she had not arrived. He related what he had seen, and his father said, 'The grizzly bear has not killed her. He has married her.' The man could neither sleep nor eat. At last the fourth night he slept, for he was very tired. His wife appeared to him in a dream and said, 'The grizzly has taken me.' She told him where the bear's house was. She said, 'Every morning at daybreak he takes me to dig roots at a certain place. If you are strong, you can kill him; but he is very fierce and endowed with magic power. You must fix your arrows as I direct you, and sit where I tell you. I have prepared a hiding place for you, where you may sit on a boulder. Prepare medicine to wash me with, for otherwise, when the bear dies, I shall die too through his power. If he kills you, I shall kill myself. Get young fir-tops and konêlps [veratrum californicum, durand], and soak them in water. With these you must rub me. Prepare one arrow by rubbing it with fat of snakes, and the other arrow anoint with rattlesnake poison. Sit down on the rock in the place that I have prepared; and on the fourth morning, when I bring the bear past close to the rock, shoot him in the throat.' The hunter prepared everything as directed. He made two new arrows with detachable foreshafts. He made them very carefully, and put good stone heads on them. He searched for snakes, and anointed the foreshafts of his arrows and the points. Early in the morning he was at the place indicated. The grizzly bear's house was a cave in a cliff, and at daybreak the man saw the smoke from his fire coming out through a hole in the top of the cliff. Soon he saw his wife and the bear emerge from the entrance. Her face was painted, and she carried her root digger. She dug roots, and the bear gathered them. The man returned home and told what he had seen to his father, who said, 'I have a strong guardian spirit, and I shall protect you. Do not be afraid. Act according the directions your wife has given to you in your dream, and kill the bear.' On the fourth morning at daybreak he was sitting on the rock. His wife and the bear drew near. She was digging in circles, and the grizzly bear followed her. When she made the fourth circle, she passed quite close to the rock. He aimed an arrow at his wife, and she cried, 'Husbands never kill their wives!' He lowered his bow and laughed. The bear stood up and was angry. He abused the woman, calling her bad names. Just then he was close to the rock. The hunter spoke to him, and the bear turned to look at the hunter, who shot him right in the throat. The grizzly bear tried to pull out the arrow, but could remove only the shaft. He rushed at the hunter, but could not reach him. The hunter shot his second arrow with such great force that the shaft fell off. The bear fell over and died. Then his wife swooned, and would have died through the bear's power, had not her husband rubbed her with fir-tops and veratrum. She revived and stood up. She said, 'I warn you not to have connection with me. The influence of the bear is still over me. Build a lodge of fir brush for me some distance away from the people. Let your sisters feed me, and wash me with fir and veratrum leaves. You may speak to me from a distance. Next spring, when the snow is almost gone, I shall be your wife again.' In the spring she washed at a stream, using hot water, and her sisters-in-law rubbed her with fir boughs. The hunter also washed. Then she went into his lodge, and lived with him as before. New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), pp. 90-92. included present-day British Columbia, northern Washington and Idaho, and western Montana.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Fish-Man,Salish,"This tale was collected by James A. Teit. A note by Teit concerning his source: 'This myth ... I collected at Hope [on the Fraser River], where interior influence is rather strong. Similar versions are said to be current among the Spuzzum Indians. The narrator was an old man who could speak some Thompson. The Fraser River flows through British Columbia, Canada, into the Strait of Georgia at the site of present-day Vancouver.","Franz Boas, Folk-Tales of Salishan and Sahaptin Tribes = Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, vol. 11 (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), p. 131.","Somewhere near the mouth of the Fraser River lived a girl who had refused all suitors. After a while a man came to visit her, and lay with her at night. The girl said to him, 'You must stay until daylight, and show yourself to my parents.' He answered, 'No, I am too poor. Your people would not like me.' As he continued to come every night, the girl told her parents, and they were very angry. Then Fish-Man caused the sea to recede for many miles from the village. He let all the freshwater streams dry up, and no rain fall. The animals became thirsty, and left the country. The people could get no fish, no game, and no water to drink. The girl told the people, 'My lover has done this, because you were wroth with him and refused him.' Then the people made a long walk of planks over the mud to the edge of the sea. At the end of this they built a large platform of planks, which they covered with mats. They heaped many woolen blankets on it. Then they dressed the girl in a fine robe, combed and oiled her hair, painted her face, and put down on her head. Then they placed her on the top of the blankets and left her there. At once the sky became overcast, rain fell, the springs burst out, the streams ran, and the sea came in. The people watched until the sea rose, and floated the platform with the blankets. They saw a man climb up beside the girl They stood up; and the girl called, 'Now all is well. I shall visit you soon.' Night came on, and they saw them no more. In two days she came back, and told the people, 'I live below the sea, in the fish country. The houses there are just the same as here, and the people live in the same way.' She returned again with her husband bringing presents of fish. She said, 'Henceforth people here shall always be able to catch plenty of fish.' Once more she came to show them her newly born child. After that she returned to the sea, and was never seen again. New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), p. 131. A note by Teit concerning his source: 'This myth ... I collected at Hope [on the Fraser River], where interior influence is rather strong. Similar versions are said to be current among the Spuzzum Indians. The narrator was an old man who could speak some Thompson. Strait of Georgia at the site of present-day Vancouver.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Girl Who Married the Crow,Thompson (Ntlakyapamuk),"This tale was collected by James A. Teit. The place names mentioned in this legend (Lytton, Spences Bridge, Nicola, Kamloops, and Lillooet) are all in southern British Columbia. Lytton is at the junction of the Thompson and Fraser rivers.","Franz Boas, Folk-Tales of Salishan and Sahaptin Tribes = Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, vol. 11 (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), pp. 30-32.","A girl belonging to a village of four underground lodges near Lytton refused all suitors who had come from Spences Bridge, Nicola, Kamloops, and Lillooet, although they brought as marriage gifts robes, dentalia, and other valuables. Her parents and the chief of the village were angry with her for refusing so many good suitors. Therefore she became sad, and would have committed suicide had not her brothers talked kindly with her. One morning, when she had gone to the river to bathe and to draw water for the house, she thought, 'I wish a man from far away would come and take me!' Crow-Man, who lived at the mouth of the river, heard her. He said, 'A pretty girl far away wants a husband. I wish I could go to her!' At once a man appeared to him and said, 'I will help you, if you will do as I direct you. You must shut your eyes and pray to me, and I shall grant your desire. Now begin!' Crow-Man knelt down and prayed that he might be enabled to go to the girl. His eyes closed while he was praying. Then his helper told him to open his eyes and look at himself. He saw that he had been transformed into a crow, with wings and with black feathers all over his body. He was afraid, and remained silent. His helper told him that he would not be a crow always, but only for the journey to the girl. He said, 'Now, fly up the river! And early in the morning you will see a girl bathing near four underground lodges. She is the wife that you desire!' It was springtime, when crows come up the river. Three mornings the girl had repeated her supplication for a husband. Early the fourth morning she went to the accustomed place, put down her bark water baskets, took off her clothes, and went to bathe. She had just made her supplication when a crow came up the river and passed close to her head. She called him nasty names and said, 'Why do you fly so close to my head, you black ugly bird? You will blind me with the dirt of your feet.' It was Crow-Man, who was acting under the instructions of his helper. He flew past out of sight, alighted on the ground, shut his eyes, and prayed. When he opened his eyes, he was a man again. He walked back to where the girl was washing herself in the water, and sat down on her clothes. Presently she saw him, and asked him to leave. She pleaded with him to go away, but he paid no heed. When she had asked him four times, he replied, 'If you will become my wife, I will release your clothes.' She assented, saying, 'You must be my husband, for you have seen my naked body.' Crow-Man shut his eyes and prayed. When he opened them again, a large beaverskin robe was there, and a dugout cedar canoe. He gave the robe to his wife. They embarked in the canoe and went downstream. As the girl did not return, the people looked for her. They found her clothes and the water baskets, and thought that she had drowned herself. She lived in her husband's country for a while, and bore a son to him. When the boy was growing up, he wished to see his grandparents. Every day he asked for them. Finally his parents determined to take him to see them. They went up the river in a canoe loaded with presents of many kinds, and eventually reached Lytton. They moored their canoe at the watering place. The weather was warm, and the woman's parents were living in a mat tent. Her younger sister came down to draw water and discovered them. She went back with the news; and the parents cleaned their house, and made ready to receive their son-in-law. He gave his father-in-law all the presents, and the people danced to welcome them. He made up his mind to live there and became an adopted member of the tribe. = Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, vol. 11 (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), pp. 30-32. The place names mentioned in this legend (Lytton, Spences Bridge, Nicola, Kamloops, and Lillooet) are all in southern British Columbia. Lytton is at the junction of the Thompson and Fraser rivers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Man Who Married a Bear,Nez Percé,"This tale was collected by Herbert J. Spinden. According to Spinden, 'this is supposed to be a true tale of recent times, and not a myth.' Asotin Creek is in southeastern Washington. It flows into the Snake River near Lewiston, Idaho. The Grande Ronde River is mostly in northeastern Oregon and also flows into the Snake River.","Franz Boas, Folk-Tales of Salishan and Sahaptin Tribes = Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, vol. 11 (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), pp. 198-200.","A man name Five-Times-Surrounded-in-War (Pákatamápaütx) lived with his father at Asotin, and in the spring of the year the youth would go away from home and lose himself till fall. He would tell no one where he had been. Now, he really was accustomed to go up the Little Salmon (Hune'he) branch of the Grande Ronde River to fish for salmon. It was the second year that he went there that this thing happened. A bear girl lived just below the forks of Asotin Creek, and from that place she used to go over onto the Little Salmon, where Five-Times-Surrounded-in-War had a camp made of boughs. One day, after fishing, he was lying in his camp not quite asleep. He heard the noise of someone walking in the woods. He heard the noise of walking go all around the camp. The grizzly-bear girl was afraid to go near the man, and soon she went away and left him Next morning he tried to track her; and while he could see the tracks in the grass, he could not tell what it was that made them. Next day the youth hunted deer in order to have dried meat for the winter; and that evening the grizzly-bear girl, dressed up as a human being, came into his camp. Five-Times-Surrounded-in-War had just finished his supper when he heard the footfalls, and, looking out into the forest, he saw a fine girl come into the open. He wondered if this person was what he had heard the night before. He asked the girl to tell him what she wanted, and she came and sat down beside him. The youth was bashful and could not talk to her, although she was a pretty girl. Then he said, 'Where are you camping?' And she told him that three days before she had come from the forks of Asotin Creek. 'I came to see you, and to find out whether or not you would marry me.' Now, Five-Times-Surrounded-in-War did not know of anyone who lived above the mouth of Asotin Creek, and for that reason he told the girl he would take home his meat and salmon and return in ten days. So the girl went back to the forks of Asotin Creek, and the youth to the mouth of the stream with his meat. Then they returned and met; and the youth fell deeply in love with the girl, and married her. So they lived in his camp until she said to him, 'Now we will go to my home.' And when they arrived, he saw that she had a fine supply of winter food -- dried salmon, dried meat, camas, kaus, sanitx, serviceberries, and huckleberries. But what most surprised him was that they went into a hole in the ground, because then he knew she must be a bear. It grew late in the fall, and they had to stay in the cave, for the girl could not go out. In the dead of winter they were still in the cave when the snow began to settle and harden. One night, near midnight, when both were asleep in their beds, the grizzly-bear girl dreamed, and roared out in her sleep. She told her husband to build a fire and make a light. Then the grizzly-bear girl sang a song, and blood came running from her mouth. She said, 'This blood you see coming from my mouth is not my blood. It is the blood of men. Down at the mouth of Asotin Creek the hunters are making ready for a bear hunt. They have observed this cave, and five hunters are coming here to see if a bear is in it.' The grizzly-bear girl in her sleep knew that the hunters were making ready. Next morning the five hunters went up to that place, and that same morning the grizzly-bear girl donned a different dress from what she usually wore, a dress that was painted red. She told her husband, 'Soon after the sun leaves the earth, these hunters will be here, and then I will do my killing.' They arrived, and Five-Times-Surrounded-in-War heard them talking. He heard them say that something must be living in the cave. When the first hunter came to the door of the cave, the grizzly-bear girl rushed out and killed him. Then the four other hunters went home and told the news, and ten hunters made ready to come up and kill the bear. They camped close by for the night. About midnight the grizzly-bear girl had another dream. She sang a song, and told her husband, 'I will leave you as soon as the sun is up. This blood you see coming out of my mouth is my own blood. The hunters are close by, and will soon be here.' Soon the youth could hear the hunters talking. Then they took a pole and hung an empty garment near the mouth of the cave, and the bear rushed out at this decoy. When she turned to go back, they fired, and killed her. The youth in the cave heard the hunters say, 'Watch out! There must be another one in the cave.' So he decided he would go out; and when he came into the light, the hunters recognized him. He went home with them and told the story. This was the year before the French trappers came, and Five-Times-Surrounded-in-War went away with them. In a year he returned, and after that he disappeared. New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), pp. 198-200. times, and not a myth.' Asotin Creek is in southeastern Washington. It flows into the Snake River near Lewiston, Idaho. The Grande Ronde River is mostly in northeastern Oregon and also flows into the Snake River.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Woman Who Became a Horse (Horse),Thompson (Ntlakyapamuk),"This tale was collected by James A. Teit. A note by Teit about his source: 'The narrator said he thought there was a little more to this story, but he did not remember it. He said the story was common to both the Thompson and the Okanagon. He had first heart it himself from an Okanagon over fifty years ago; but it was probably in vogue among the Thompson before that, although he had not heard it.","Franz Boas, Folk-Tales of Salishan and Sahaptin Tribes = Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, vol. 11 (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), p. 53.","A chief had many horses, and among them a stallion which his wife often rode. The woman and stallion became enamoured of each other and cohabited. The woman grew careless of her household duties and always wanted to look after the horses. When the people moved camp, and the horses were brought in, it was noticed that the stallion made right for the woman and sniffed about her as stallions do with mares. After this she was watched. When her husband learned the truth, he shot the stallion. The woman cried and would not go to bed. At daybreak she was gone, no one knew where. About a year after this it was discovered that she had gone off with some wild horses. One day when the people were traveling over a large open place they saw a band of horses, and the woman among them. She had partly changed into a horse. Her pubic hair had grown so long that it resembled a tail. She also had much hair on her body, and the hair of her head had grown to resemble a horse's mane. Her arms and legs had also changed considerably; but her face was still human, and bore some resemblance to her original self. The chief sent some young men to chase her. All the wild horses ran away, but she could not run so fast as they, and was run down and lassoed. She was brought into her husband's lodge; and the people watched her for some time, trying to tame her, but she continued to act and whinny like a horse. At last they let her free. The following year they saw her again. She had become almost entirely horse, and had a colt by her side. She had many children afterwards.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,The Woman Who Became a Horse (Horse2),Skidi Pawnee,NA,"George A. Dorsey, Traditions of the Skidi Pawnee = Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, vol. 8 (Boston and New York: Published for the American Folk-Lore Society by Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1904), pp. 294-295.","A chief had many horses, and among them a stallion which his wife often rode. The woman and stallion became enamoured of each other and cohabited. The woman grew careless of her household duties and always wanted to look after the horses. When the people moved camp, and the horses were brought in, it was noticed that the stallion made right for the woman and sniffed about her as stallions do with mares. After this she was watched. When her husband learned the truth, he shot the stallion. The woman cried and would not go to bed. At daybreak she was gone, no one knew where. About a year after this it was discovered that she had gone off with some wild horses. One day when the people were traveling over a large open place they saw a band of horses, and the woman among them. She had partly changed into a horse. Her pubic hair had grown so long that it resembled a tail. She also had much hair on her body, and the hair of her head had grown to resemble a horse's mane. Her arms and legs had also changed considerably; but her face was still human, and bore some resemblance to her original self. The chief sent some young men to chase her. All the wild horses ran away, but she could not run so fast as they, and was run down and lassoed. She was brought into her husband's lodge; and the people watched her for some time, trying to tame her, but she continued to act and whinny like a horse. At last they let her free. The following year they saw her again. She had become almost entirely horse, and had a colt by her side. She had many children afterwards. New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), p. 53. A note by Teit about his source: 'The narrator said he thought there was a little more to this story, but he did not remember it. He said the story was common to both the Thompson and the Okanagon. He had first heart it himself from an Okanagon over fifty years ago; but it was probably in vogue among the Thompson before that, although he had not heard it. There was a village, and the men decided to go on a warpath. So these men started, and they journeyed for several days toward the south. They came to a thickly wooded country. They found wild horses, and among them was a spotted pony. One man caught the spotted pony and took care of it. He took it home, and instructed his wife to look after it, as if it were their chief. This she did, and, further, she liked the horse very much. She took it where there was good grass. In the winter time she cut young cottonwood shoots for it, so that the horse was always fat. In the night, if it was stormy, she pulled a lot of dry grass, and when she put the blanket over the horse and tied it up, she stuffed the grass under the blanket, so the horse never got cold. It was always fine and sleek. One summer evening she went to where she had tied the horse, and she met a fine-looking man, who had on a buffalo robe with a spotted horse pictured on it. She liked him; he smelt finely. She followed him until they came to where the horse had been, and the man said, 'You went with me. It is I who was a horse.' She was glad, for she liked the horse. For several years they were together, and the woman gave birth, and it was a spotted pony. When the pony was born, the woman found she had a tail like that of a horse. She also had long hair. When the colt sucked, the woman stood up. For several years they roamed about, and had more ponies, all spotted. At home the man mourned for his lost wife. He could not make out why should go off. People went on a hunt many years afterward, and they came across these spotted ponies. People did not care to attack them, for among them was a strange looking animal. But, as they came across them now and then, they decided to catch them. They were hard to catch, but at last they caught them, all but the woman, for she could run fast; but as they caught her children, she gave in and was caught. People said, 'This is the woman who was lost.' And some said, 'No, it is not.' Her husband was sent for, and he recognized her. He took his bow and arrows out and shot her dead, for he did not like to see her with the horse's tail. The other spotted ponies were kept, and as they increased, they were spotted. So the people had many spotted ponies. of the American Folk-Lore Society, vol. 8 (Boston and New York: Published for the American Folk-Lore Society by Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1904), pp. 294-295.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,An Ant and a Grasshopper,"Anianus (L'Estrange, 1692)","L'Estrange attributes this fable to Anianus [Avianus], a Latin fable writer who lived about 400 AD. Link the text of this fable in Latin: De Formica et Cicada.","Source (Internet Archive): Roger L'Estrange Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists, with Morals and Reflections (London: Printed for R. Sare, et al., 1692), no. 217, p. 189. Source (books.google.com): Roger L'Estrange Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists, with Morals and Reflections (London: Printed for R. Sare, et al., 1699), no. 217, p. 197.","As the ants were airing their provisions one winter, up comes a hungry grasshopper to 'em, and begs a charity. They told him that he should have wrought in summer, if he would not have wanted in winter. 'Well,' says the grasshopper, 'but I was not idle neither; for I sung out the whole season.' 'Nay then,' said they, 'you shall e'en do well to make a merry year on't, and dance in winter to the tune that you sung in summer.' The moral: A life of sloth is the life of a brute; but action and industry is the bus'ness of a great, a wife, and a good man. Reflexion: Here's a reproof to men of sensuality, and pleasure. The moral preaches industry, and beats down sloth, and shews that after-wit is nothing worth. It must be an industrious youth that provides against the inconveniencies, and necessities of old age; and he that fools away the one, must either beg or starve in the other. 'Go to the ant thou sluggard,' says the wise-man, which in few words summs up the moral of this fable. 'Tis hard to say of laziness, or luxury, whether it be the more scandalous, or the more dangerous evil. The very soul of the slothful, does effectually but lie drowzing in his body, and the whole man is totally given up to his senses: whereas the profit and the comfort of industry, is substantial, firm, and lasting; the blessings of security and plenty go along with it, and it is never out of season. What's the grasshopper's entertainment now, but a summer's song? A vain and an empty pleasure? Let it be understood, however, that we are not to pass avarice upon the world under the title of good husbandry, and thrift, and under that cover to extinguish charity by not distributing the fruits of it. We are in the first place, to consult our own necessities, but we are then to consider in the second place that the necessities of our neighbours have a Christian right to a part of what we have to spare. For the common offices of humanity are as much duties of self-preservation, as what every individual contributes to its own well-being. It is, in short, the great interest and obligation of particulars, to advance the good of the community. The stress of this moral lies upon the preference of honest labour to idleness; and the refusal of relief, on the one hand, is intended only for a reproof to the inconsiderate loss of opportunity on the other. This does not hinder yet, but that the ants, out of their abundance, ought to have reliev'd the grasshopper in her distress, though 'twas her own fault that brought her to't. For if one man's faults could discharge another man of his duty, there would be no longer any place left for the common offices of society. To conclude, we have our failings, every mother's child of us, and the improvidence of my neighbour must not make me inhumane. The ant did well to reprove the grasshopper for her slothfulness; but she did ill then to refuse her a charity in her distress.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,An Ant Formerly a Man,"Aesop (L'Estrange, 1692)","This fable is number 166 in the Perry Index, and is not included in most collections of Aesopic fables.","Source (Internet Archive): Roger L'Estrange Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists, with Morals and Reflections (London: Printed for R. Sare, et al., 1692), no. 188, p. 158. Source (books.google.com): Roger L'Estrange Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists, with Morals and Reflections (London: Printed for R. Sare, et al., 1699), no. 188, p. 166.","The Moral: That which some call good husbandry, industry, and providence, others call raking, avarice, and oppression: So that the vertue and the vice in many cases are hardly distinguishable but by the name.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,The Ant and the Grasshopper (Bewick),"Aesop (Bewick, 1818)",NA,"Source (Internet Archive): The Fables of Aesop and Others, with designs on wood, by Thomas Bewick (Newcastle: Printed by R. Walker for T. Bewick and Son, 1818), pp. 307-308. Source (books.google.com): The Fables of Aesop and Others, with designs on wood, by Thomas Bewick (Newcastle: Printed by R. Walker for T. Bewick and Son, 1818), pp. 307-308.","One of the ants asked him how he had disposed of his time in summer, that he had not taken pains and laid in a stock, as they had done. 'Alas! my friends,' says he, 'I passed away the time merrily and pleasantly, in drinking, singing, and dancing, and never once thought of winter. 'If that be the case,' replied the ant, 'all I have to say is this: that they who drink, sing, and dance in the summer, run a great risk of starving in the winter.' Application: As summer is the season in which the industrious laborious husbandman lays up his supplies for the winter, so youth and manhood are the times of life which we should employ in laying in such a stock as may suffice for helpless old age; yet there are many whom we call rational creatures, who squander away in a profuse prodigality, whatever they get in their younger days, as if the infirmity of age would require no supplies to support it, or at least would find them administered to it in some miraculous way. From this fable we learn this admirable lesson, never to lose the present opportunity of fairly and honestly providing against the future evils and accidents of life; and while health and the vigour of our faculties remain firm and entire, to lay them out to the best advantage; so that when age and infirmities despoil us of our strength and abilities, we may not have to bewail that we have neglected to provide for the wants of our latter days: for it should always be remembered, that 'a youth of revels breeds an age of care,' and that temperance in youth lays the foundation of health and comfort for old age.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,The Ant and the Grasshopper (Croxall),"Aesop (Croxall, 1775)",NA,"Fables of Æsop and Others, translated into English with instructive applications, and a print before each fable, by Samuel Croxall, tenth edition, carefully revised and improved (London: Printed for W. Strahan et al., 1775), no. 121, pp. 205-206.","A grasshopper, who had chanced to outlive the summer, and was ready to starve with cold and hunger, approached them with great humility, and begged that they would relieve his necessity, with one grain of wheat or rye. One of the ants asked him, how he had disposed of his time in summer, that he had not taken pains, and laid in a stock, as they had done. 'Alas, gentlemen,' says he, 'I passed away the time merrily and pleasantly, in drinking, singing, and dancing, and never once thought of winter.' 'If that be the case,' replied the ant, laughing, 'all I have to say is, that they who drink, sing, and dance in summer, must starve in winter.' The Application: As summer is the season of the year in which the industrious and laborious husbandman gathers and lays up such fruits as may supply his necessities in winter; so youth and manhood are the times of life which we should employ and bestow in laying in such a stock of all kind of necessaries, as many suffice for the craving demands of helpless old age. Yet notwithstanding the truth of this, there are many of those which we call rational creatures, who live in a method quite opposite to it, and make it their business to squander away in a profuse prodigality, whatever they get in their younger days: as if the infirmity of age would require so supplies to support it; or, at least, would find them administered to it in some miraculous way. From this fable we learn the admirable lesson, never to lose any present opportunity of providing against the future evils and accidents of life. While health and the flower and vigour of our age remain firm and entire, let us lay them out to the best advantage; that when the latter days take hold of us, and spoil us of our strength and abilities, we may have a store moderately sufficient to subsist upon, which we laid up in the morning of our age.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,The Ant and the Grasshopper (Jacobs),"Aesop (Jacobs, 1894)",NA,"Source (Internet Archive): The Fables of Æsop, selected, and told anew, and their history traced by Joseph Jacobs (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), pp. 86-87. Source (books.google.com): The Fables of Æsop, selected, and told anew, and their history traced by Joseph Jacobs (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), pp. 86-87.","'Why not come and chat with me,' said the grasshopper, 'instead of toiling and moiling in that way?' 'I am helping to lay up food for the winter,' said the ant, 'and recommend you to do the same.' 'Why bother about winter?' said the grasshopper. 'We have got plenty of food at present.' But the ant went on its way and continued its toil. When the winter came the grasshopper had no food, and found itself dying of hunger, while it saw the ants distributing every day corn and grain from the stores they had collected in the summer. Then the grasshopper knew: It is best to prepare for the days of necessity.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,The Ant and the Grasshopper (James),"Aesop, James, 1848",NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Æsop's Fables: A New Version, Chiefly from Original Sources, by Thomas James, with more than 100 illustrations designed by John Tenniel (London: John Murray, 1848), fable 12, p. 12. Source (books.google.com): Æsop's Fables: A New Version, Chiefly from Original Sources, by Thomas James, with more than 100 illustrations designed by John Tenniel (London: John Murray, 1848), fable 12, p. 12.","'What were you doing,' said the ant, 'this last summer?' 'Oh,' said the grasshopper, 'I was not idle. I kept singing all the summer long.' Said the ant, laughing and shutting up his granary, 'Since you could sing all summer, you may dance all winter.' Winter finds out what summer lays by.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,The Ants and the Grasshopper,Ambrose Bierce,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 188. Source (books.google.com): Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 188.","Some members of a legislature were making schedules of their wealth at the end of the session, when an honest miner came along and asked them to divide with him. The members of the legislature inquired: 'Why did you not acquire property of your own?' ' Because,' replied the honest miner, 'I was so busy digging out gold that I had no leisure to lay up something worth while.' Then the members of the legislature derided him, saying: 'If you waste your time in profitless amusement, you cannot, of course, expect to share the rewards of industry.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,"The Fable of the Ant and of the Sygalle [Cigala, Grasshopper]","Aesop (Caxton, 1484)",NA,"Source (books.google.com): The Fables of Aesop, as first printed by William Caxton in 1484 with those of Avian, Alfonso, and Poggio, now again edited and induced by Joseph Jacobs. Vol. 2: Text and Glossary (London: David Nutt, 1889), no. 17, p. 123. Source (Internet Archive): The Fables of Aesop, as first printed by William Caxton in 1484 with those of Avian, Alfonso, and Poggio, now again edited and induced by Joseph Jacobs. Vol. 2: Text and Glossary (London: David Nutt, 1889), no. 17, p. 123.",It is good to purveye him self in the somer season of such thynges / wherof he shall myster and have nede in wynter season / As thow mayst see by this present fable / of the sygalle / whiche in the wynter tyme went and demaunded of the ant somme of her Corne for to ete / And thenne the ant sayd to the sygall / what hast thow done al the somer last passed / And the sygalle ansuerd / I have songe / And after sayd the ante to her / of my corne shallt not thou nonef have / and yf thow hast songe alle the somer / danse now in wynter / And therfore there is one tyme for to doo some labour and werk / And one tyme for to have rest / For he that werketh not he doth no good / shal have ofte at his teeth grete cold and lacke at his nede /,Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,The Grasshopper and the Ant,Ambrose Bierce,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 165. Source (books.google.com): Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 165.","'Why,' said the ant, 'did you not store up some food for yourself, instead of singing all the time?' 'So I did,' said the grasshopper. 'So I did; but you fellows broke in and carried it all away.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,The Grasshopper and the Ants,"Aesop (Jones, 1912)",NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Æsop's Fables, a new translation by V. S. Vernon Jones, with an introduction by G. K. Chesterton and illustrations by Arthur Rackham (London: William Heinemann; New York: Doubleday, Page, and Company, 1916), p. 125. First published in 1912. Source (books.google.com): Æsop's Fables, a new translation by V. S. Vernon Jones, with an introduction by G. K. Chesterton and illustrations by Arthur Rackham (London: William Heinemann; New York: Doubleday, Page, and Company, 1916), p. 125. First published in 1912.","One fine day in winter some ants were busy drying their store of corn, which had got rather damp during a long spell of rain. Presently up came a grasshopper and begged them to spare her a few grains, 'For,' she said, 'I'm simply starving.' The ants stopped work for a moment, though this was against their principles. 'May we ask,' said they, 'what you were doing with yourself all last summer? Why didn't you collect a store of food for the winter?' 'The fact is,' replied the grasshopper, 'I was so busy singing that I hadn't the time.' 'If you spent the summer singing,' replied the ants, 'you can't do better than spend the winter dancing.' And they chuckled and went on with their work.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
280A,The Story of the Little Red Hen,"Children's Story, USA","Link to another version of this story: 'The Little Red Hen and the Grain of Wheat: An English Folk Tale,' In the Nursery of My Bookhouse, edited by Olive Beaupré Miller (Chicago: The Bookhouse for Children Publishers, 1920), pp. 60-63. Link to a book version of this story: The Little Red Hen: An Old English Folk Tale, retold and illustrated by Florence White Williams (Chicago, Akron, and New York: The Saalfield Publishing Company, 1918).","Mary Mapes Dodge, editor, St. Nicholas, vol. 1, no. 11 (September 1874), pp. 680-81.","There was once a little red hen. She was scratching near the barn one day, when she found a grain of wheat. She said, 'Who will plant this wheat?' The rat said, 'I won't.' The cat said, 'I won't.' The dog said, 'I won't.' The duck said, 'I won't.' And the pig said, 'I won't.' The little red hen said, 'I will, then.' So she planted the grain of wheat. After the wheat grew up and was ripe, the little red hen said, 'Who will reap this wheat?' The rat said, 'I won't.' The cat said, 'I won't.' The dog said, 'I won't.' The duck said, 'I won't.' And the pig said, 'I won't.' The little red hen said, 'I will, then.' So she reaped the wheat. Then she said, 'Who will take this wheat to mill to be ground into flour?' The rat said, 'I won't.' The cat said, 'I won't.' The dog said, 'I won't.' The duck said, 'I won't.' And the pig said, 'I won't.' The little red hen said, 'I will, then.' So she took the wheat to mill. When she came back with the flour, she said, 'Who will make this into bread?' The rat said, 'I won't.' The cat said, 'I won't.' The dog said, 'I won't.' The duck said, 'I won't.' And the pig said, 'I won't.' The little red hen said, 'I will, then.' So she made it into bread. Then she said, 'Who will bake this bread?' The rat said, 'I won't.' The cat said, 'I won't.' The dog said, 'I won't.' The duck said, 'I won't.' And the pig said, 'I won't.' The little red hen said, 'I will, then.' When the bread was baked, the little red hen said, 'Who will eat this bread?' The rat said, 'I WILL.' The cat said, 'I WILL.' The dog said, 'I WILL.' The duck said, 'I WILL.' And the pig said, 'I WILL.' The little red hen said, 'No, you WON'T, for I am going to do that myself.' And she picked up the bread and ran off with it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,Peer Gynt and the Trolls,Norway,"Bræksted's source: Peter Christian Asbjørnsen, Norske Huldreeventyr og Folkesagn, vol. 2 (Christiania [Oslo]: Forlagt af C. A. Dybwad, 1848), pp. 77-84. Bræksted anglicizes the hero's name to Peter Gynt, but I have chosen to retain the Norwegian (and more familiar) form: Peer Gynt.","Peter Christian Asbjørnsen, Folk and Fairy Tales, translated by H. L. Brækstad (New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1883), pp. 149-50.","In the olden days there lived in Kvam a hunter, whose name was Peer Gynt, and who was always roaming about in the mountains after bears and elks, for in those days there were more forests on the mountains than there are now, and consequently plenty of wild beasts.... Shortly before Christmas, Peer set out again on another expedition. He had heard of a farm on Dovrefell which was invaded by such a number of trolls every Christmas Eve that the people on the farm had to move out, and get shelter at some of their neighbors. He was anxious to go there, for he had a great fancy to come across the trolls again. He dressed himself in some old ragged clothes, and took a tame white bear, which he had, with him, as well as an awl, some pitch, and twine. When he came to the farm he went in and asked for lodgings. 'God help us!' said the farmer; ' we can't give you any lodgings. We have to clear out of the house ourselves soon and look for lodgings, for every Christmas Eve we have the trolls here.' But Peer thought he should be able to clear the trolls out -- he had done such a thing before; and then he got leave to stay, and a pig's skin into the bargain. The bear lay down behind the fireplace, and Peer took out his awl, and pitch, and twine, and began making a big, big shoe, which it took the whole pig's skin to make. He put a strong rope in for laces, that he might pull the shoe tightly together, and, finally, he armed himself with a couple of handspikes. Shortly he heard the trolls coming. They had a fiddler with them, and some began dancing, while others fell to eating the Christmas fare on the table -- some fried bacon, and some fried frogs and toads, and other nasty things which they had brought with them. During this some of the trolls found the shoe Peer had made. They thought it must belong to a very big foot. They all wanted to try it on at once, so they put a foot each into it; but Peer made haste and tightened the rope, took one of the handspikes and fastened the rope round it, and got them at last securely tied up in the shoe. Just then the bear put his nose out from behind the fireplace, where he was lying, and smelt they were frying something. 'Will you have a sausage, pussy?' said one of the trolls, and threw a hot frog right into the bear's jaw. 'Scratch them, pussy!' said Peer The bear got so angry that he rushed at the trolls and scratched them all over, while Peer took the other handspike and hammered away at them as if he wanted to beat their brains out. The trolls had to clear out at last, but Peer stayed and enjoyed himself with all the Christmas fare the whole week. After that the trolls were not heard of there for many years. Some years afterwards, about Christmastime, the farmer was out in the forest cutting wood for the holidays, when a troll came up to him and shouted: 'Have you got that big pussy of yours, yet?' 'Oh, yes, she is at home behind the fireplace,' said the farmer; 'and she has got seven kittens all bigger and larger than herself.' 'We'll never come to you any more, then,' said the troll.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,The Cat Mill,Germany,"The supernatural creature whom I have called a kobold (a generic term) is identified by Kuhn and Schwartz as a Bieresel (beer-donkey), a spook in German folklore that would assume the form of an animal, then come into a tavern or other establishment and drink the guests' beer.","A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräche aus Meklenburg, Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen: Aus dem Munde des Volkes gesammelt (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), p. 203.","In times past, a kobold frequented a hill above the mill, and every evening he would enter the mill and demand a certain measure of beer, which he then drank. Once a bear trainer was spending the night in the mill with his bears. The kobold arrived, jumping onto first one and then onto another one of the bears, when they turned on him and mauled him terribly. Injured, he was barely able to escape. He did not return to the mill, and one day, looking down from the hilltop, he saw the miller and asked, 'Miller, do you still have those mean cats?' And that is how the mill came to be known as the Cat Mill.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,The Cat of Norrhult,Sweden,"This legend is from Östergötland, a province in southeastern Sweden. Note by Hofberg: 'Not longer than thirty years ago a cross, said to be the one raised on this occasion, was still standing in Norrhult.'","Herman Hofberg, Swedish Fairy Tales, translated by W. H. Myers (Chicago: Belford-Clarke Company, 1890), pp. 126-128.","On the estate of Norrhult, in the parish of Rumskulla, the people in olden times were very much troubled by trolls and ghosts. The disturbances finally became so unbearable that they were compelled to desert house and home, and seek an asylum with their neighbors. One old man was left behind, and he, because he was so feeble that he could not move with the rest. Some time thereafter, there came one evening a man having with him a bear, and asked for lodgings for himself and companion. The old man consented, but expressed doubts about his guest being able to endure the disturbances that were likely to occur during the night. The stranger replied that he was not afraid of noises, and laid himself down, with his bear, near the old man's bed. Only a few hours had passed, when a multitude of trolls came into the hut and began their usual clatter. Some of them built the fire in the fireplace, others set the kettle upon the fire, and others again put into the kettle a mess of filth, such as lizards, frogs, worms, etc. When the mess was cooked, the table was laid, and the trolls sat down to the repast. One of them threw a worm to the bear, and said, 'Will you have a fish, kitty?' Another went to the bear-keeper and asked him if he would not have some of their food. At this the latter let loose the bear, which struck about him so lustily that soon the whole swarm was flying through the door. Some time after, the door was again opened, and a troll with mouth so large that it filled the whole opening peeked in. 'Sic him!' said the bear-keeper, and the bear soon hunted him away also. In the morning the stranger gathered the people of the village around him and directed them to raise a cross upon the estate, and to engrave a prayer on Cross Mountain, where the trolls dwelt, and they would be freed from their troublesome visitors. Seven years later a resident of Norrhult went to Norrköping. On his way home he met a man who asked him where he came from, and, upon being informed, claimed to be a neighbor, and invited the peasant to ride with him on his black horse Away they went at a lively trot along the road, the peasant supposed, but in fact high up in the air. When it became quite dark the horse stumbled so that the peasant came near falling off. 'It is well you were able to hold on,' said the horseman. 'That was the point of the steeple of Linköping's cathedral that the horse stumbled against. Listen!' continued he. 'Seven years ago I visited Norrhult. You then had a vicious cat there. Is it still alive?' 'Yes, truly, and many more,' said the peasant. After a time the rider checked his horse and bade the peasant dismount. When the latter looked around him he found himself at Cross Mountain, near his home. Some time later another troll came to the peasant's cottage and asked if that great savage cat still lived. 'Look out!' said the peasant. 'She is lying there by the oven, and has seven young ones, all worse than she.' 'Oh!' cried the troll, and rushed for the door. From that time no trolls have ever visited Norrhult.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,The Cat on the Dovrefjell,Norway,"I used the following translation: 'The Cat on the Dovrefell,' Popular Tales from the Norse, 2nd edition, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), pp. 103-104. Finnmark is the northernmost county in Norway. The Dovrefjell (sometimes spelled Dovrefell in English) is a mountain range in central Norway.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Kjetta på Dovre, Norske Folkeeventyr (1852).","Once upon a time there was a man up in Finnmark who had caught a large white bear, which he was going to take to the King of Denmark. It so happened that he came to the Dovrefjell on Christmas Eve. He went to a cottage where a man lived whose name was Halvor, and he asked the man for lodging for himself and his white bear. 'God bless us!' said the man, 'but we can't give anyone lodging just now, for every Christmas Eve the house is so full of trolls that we are forced to move out, and we'll have no shelter over our own heads, to say nothing of providing for anyone else.' 'Oh?' said the man, 'If that's all, you can very well let me use your house. My bear can sleep under the stove here, and I can sleep in the storeroom.' Well, he begged so hard, that at last he got permission to stay there. The people of the house moved out, but before they went, everything was made ready for the trolls. The table was set with cream porridge and fish and sausages and everything else that was good, just as for any other grand feast. When everything was ready, in came the trolls. Some were large, and some were small. Some had long tails, and some had no tails at all. And some had long, long noses. They ate and drank and tasted everything. Then one of the troll youngsters saw the white bear lying under the stove, so he took a piece of sausage, stuck it onto a fork, and went and poked it against the white bear's nose, burning it. Then he shrieked, 'Kitty, do you want some sausage?' The white bear rose up and growled, and then chased the whole pack of them out, both large and small. A year later Halvor was out in the woods at midday of Christmas Eve, gathering wood for the holidays, for he expected the trolls again. As he was chopping, he heard a voice shouting from the woods, 'Halvor! Halvor!' 'Yes?' said Halvor. 'Do you still have that big cat?' 'Yes,' said Halvor. 'She's lying at home under the stove, and what's more, she now has seven kittens, far bigger and fiercer than she is herself.' 'Then, we'll never come to your place again,' shouted the troll in the woods, and since that time the trolls have never eaten their Yule porridge with Halvor on the Dovrefjell.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,The Kelpie and the Boar,Scotland,The kelpie is a demonic 'water horse' featured in many Scottish and Irish superstitions and folktales.,"Walter Gregor, 'Kelpie Stories from the North of Scotland,' The Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 1, part 9 (September 1883), p. 293.","A miller was annoyed by a kelpie entering his mill during night and playing havoc among the grain and meal. One night he shut up in the mill his boar, for a miller generally kept a good many pigs and a breeding sow or two. As usual kelpie entered the mill. The boar stood on his defence, and fought the kelpie. Next night the creature appeared at the miller's window, and called to him, 'Is there a chattie i' the mill the nicht?' 'Aye, there is a chattie i' the mill, an will be for ever mair,' was the answer. Kelpie returned no more to the mill.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,The Kobold and the Polar Bear,Germany,"Taylor's source: an anonymous Middle High German story, probably drawn from Scandinavian sources.","Archer Taylor, 'Schrätel und Wasserbär,' Modern Philology, vol. 17, no. 6 (October 1919), pp. 305-306.","The king of Norway sends a polar bear (wazzerber) as a gift to the king of Denmark. The bear and its leader have just landed in Denmark when night overtakes them and they hasten on to a house by the roadside. The Norseman explains to the fanner that the bear is not a dangerous monster and asks quarters for the night. This request the farmer would gladly grant, but he confesses that he has no power over his homestead after nightfall, for a malicious kobold (schretel) drives him and his cattle away each evening. The stranger declares his reliance on God, and repeats his request, to which the host gives unwilling assent. Well supplied with food, man and bear prepare to spend the night in the bakery. While both are asleep a red-capped kobold scarcely three spans long comes up to the fire and begins to roast some meat on an iron spit. Jealously it eyes the interlopers, particularly the bear, until passion so overcomes it that it strikes the bear on the back of the head. The bear snarls but makes no move. When the meat drips fat the schretel deals another blow and the bear 'turns the other cheek.' Finally, when the chop sizzles with the heat, the little fellow raises spit and all high above his head and brings it down on the bear's mouth. Then the bear does not prove to be so lazy after all, and the scuffle begins in earnest. For some time neither side has an advantage, but ultimately the kobold is obliged to give in. All the while the bear's master has been watching the melee from a safe retreat in the oven, and even when the disturber of the peace has fled he does not venture forth. On the morrow the householder inquires somewhat anxiously about the health of his visitors, and before they go on learns the events of the night. Later that morning when the farmer has gone out into the field to plow, the disheveled kobold comes running up to him with the query: 'Is your big cat still alive?' With ready wit the farmer grasps the situation, and assures the kobold that the 'old cat' in addition to being alive is now the mother of five young ones. Thereupon the kobold flees forever, and since then the farmer and his family have lived happily in the farmhouse.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,The Troll and the Bear,Norway,NA,"William A. Craigie, Scandinavian Folk-Lore: Illustrations of the Traditional Beliefs of the Northern Peoples (London: Alexander Gardner, 1896), pp. 65-66.","In Højegaard in old days no one could stay over Christmas Eve. All the folk had to go down to the old farm in Rønnebæk, which has long been given up, and stay there till Christmas morning, for every Christmas Eve there came an ugly troll from Dragehøi, with a sackful of toads on his back, which he roasted at the fire in the sitting room, and ate one after another; but if any one ventured to stay there over night, he might be prepared to be torn in pieces by the troll. One time, just as the folk were leaving the farm, there came a man who went about with a bear, exhibiting it. They told him why they had to leave, and advised him also to get away from there; but the man begged to be allowed to stay overnight, and as he was bent on doing so they finally gave him leave. Towards evening, the troll came with his sack on his back, sat down by the fire, opened it and pulled out the one toad after the other, took each by a hind leg and held it over the fire till it was roasted, and then swallowed it. So one toad after the other went into him for some time, till he began to be satisfied. Then he turned to the man, and said, 'What's your dog's name?' 'Toad,' said the man. The troll took a toad, roasted it, and held it out to the bear, saying, 'Toad shall have a toad,' but the bear growled, and began to rise. 'Yes,' said the man to the troll, 'just you take care, and not make him angry, or he'll tear you in pieces.' The troll looked quite frightened, and asked, 'Have you any more like him?' 'Yes,' said the man, 'this one has five young ones, which are lying outside on the baking oven.' The troll made haste to tie up the toads he had left in the sack, threw it on his back, and went out at the door in a hurry. Next morning, when the people of the farm came home, the man was lying all right in the bed, and the bear beside the fire, both quite comfortable. When the man told them how he had got on, they were very glad, and bade him come again next Christmas Eve, which he did, but the troll did not come, and has never shown himself there since. Peoples (London: Alexander Gardner, 1896), pp. 65-66.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,The Water-Man,Moravia,"Moravia, a traditional kingdom and region in central Europe with mixed Slavic and German populations, was incorporated in the twentieth century into Czechoslovakia, and subsequently into the Czech Republic.","Marie Kosch, 'Vom Wassermann,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Mähren (Kremsier: Druck und Commissionsverlag Heinrich Gusek, 1899), no. 1, pp. 103-104.","A bear trainer with his dancing bear once came to an isolated mill and asked the miller to take them in for the night, as there was no village far and wide, and night was already falling. 'I would be glad to take you in,' said the miller, 'if you are not afraid, for a water-man comes into the mill every night and plays pranks on anyone sleeping or even just passing time in the grinding room, and I don't have room for you anywhere else.' 'What sort of pranks?' asked the bear trainer. 'Just practical jokes,' replied the miller, 'but they make the people who come to the mill angry, and they won't come back. I've lost a lot of customers because of this. Once he smeared pitch on someone's boot soles, so that he stuck to the floor when he stood up. He poured water into someone else's boots, or sprinkled bran in their hair. He sewed another person's pockets shut. Once he even put someone who was sleeping in the mill into a sack and hung it on a beam, and more such pranks.' 'If that's all there is, it won' bother me,' said the bear trainer. 'I'll stay.' So the miller put a bundle of straw on the floor for him, and the man lay down with the bear at his side, and they slept until twelve o'clock. The trainer was awakened by the bear's roaring. He jumped up and saw the bear wrestling with the water-man. The latter had never seen a bear before, and when he took hold of the bear's fur, the bear held him tightly with his paws. The trainer quickly went to the mill and started it running. Then he grabbed the water-man by his feet. The bear held him up, and thus they set him on the millstone and held him there, in spite of his cries, until half of his behind had been ground away. Then they let him go, and went back to sleep. Early the next morning the miller came out and was amazed that both of them were sleeping so soundly. When the trainer woke up he told the miller about their last night's adventure, at which the miller had to laugh until he held his belly. As they parted, the miller gave presents to the bear trainer, and invited him to stay with him the next time he came that way. Then he lit his pipe and lay down contentedly near the window. A little dwarf came up to him. He was wearing yellow trousers, a bright-red vest, a green jacket, and a blue cap. He said to the smoker, 'Miller, do you still have that big cat?' 'Yes,' said the latter, 'I still have her.' 'Farewell then. You'll never see me again,' he said, and trotted away. aus Mähren (Kremsier: Druck und Commissionsverlag Heinrich Gusek, 1899), no. 1, pp. 103-104. Moravia, a traditional kingdom and region in central Europe with mixed Slavic and German populations, was incorporated in the twentieth century into Czechoslovakia, and subsequently into the Czech Republic.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1161,The Water Nix in the Oil Mill near Frauendorf,Germany,NA,"Karl Haupt, 'Der Wassernix und der Bär in der Oelmühle bei Freuendorf,' Sagenbuch der Lausitz, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1862), no. 49, pp. 52-53.","Ages ago a water nix would bring fish to the so-called Oil Mill located at Frauendorf Manor on a channel of the River Spree near Cottbus. The nix would ask the miller to cook the fish, after which the nix would eat them right at the mill. With time these uncanny visits came to annoy the miller, but he never dared to turn down his uninvited visitor's requests. However, the time came when fate freed him from the nix. One evening a bear trainer came to Frauendorf with his tamed bear and asked the miller for a night's lodging. The latter, a good-hearted man, did not refuse him. To keep it from harming anyone, the bear was chained up behind the table in the main room. Not long afterward the nix entered the mill with a catch of fish. With the miller's permission he cooked them, and then sat down next to the bear behind the table and began to eat them. The hungry bear could not resist the tempting smell of the tasty meal, and wasted no time in helping himself from the nix's plate. This angered the nix, who struck at the bear's paws with his spoon. The bear let this happen a few times, but when the blows became more painful, he became furious. He grabbed the nix and crushed him terribly, until the bear trainer jumped up and rescued the nearly dead nix from the beast's claws. The nix ran quickly out the door, jumped into the water, and was not seen again for a whole year. At the end of this time, the miller was one day working near his waterway, when the nix, wearing his red cap, suddenly emerged from the water, greeted the miller, then asked with a whining voice, 'Master miller, do you still have that large cat?' The miller, fearing that the nix wanted to take up his regular visits again, quickly answered, 'Yes, she is lying behind the stove, and she has ninety-nine young ones!' To this the nix replied, 'I'll never again come to your place!' Then he disappeared beneath the water and was never seen there again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
361,Bearskin (Grimm),Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"The Grimms' source: The Haxthausen family and story by Hans Jakob Christoffel von Grimmelshausen (ca. 1622-1676) entitled 'Vom Ursprung des Namens Bärnhäuter,' first published in 1670. The Grimms first published this tale under the title 'Der Teufel Grünrock' (Devil Greenjacket) in the first edition of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (1815), no. 15. They substantially revised the tale with their fifth edition (1843).","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Bärenhäuter,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), 7th edition, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 101, pp. 81-86.","His parents were dead, and he had no longer a home, so he went to his brothers and asked them to support him until there was another war. The brothers, however, were hardhearted and said, 'What can we do with you? We have no work for you. See that you go and make a living for yourself.' The soldier had nothing left but his gun, so, putting it on his shoulder, he went forth into the world. He came to a large heath, on which nothing was to be seen but a circle of trees. Filled with sorrow, he sat down beneath them and thought about his fate. 'I have no money,' he thought, 'and the only trade I have learned is that of making war, and now that they have made peace they can no longer use me, so I see that I shall starve.' Suddenly he heard a rustling sound, and when he looked around, a strange man was standing before him. He wore a green jacket and looked quite stately, but he had a hideous horse's foot. 'I know what you are in need of,' said the man. 'You shall have money and property, as much as you, with all your might, can squander away, but first I must know if you are fearless, so that I won't be giving away my money for nothing.' 'A soldier and fear -- how can those go together?' he answered, 'You can put me to the test.' 'Very well,' answered the man, 'look behind you.' The soldier turned around and saw a large growling bear running towards him. 'Aha,' shouted the soldier, 'I'll tickle your nose until you lose your desire for growling.' Then taking aim at the bear, he shot it in the snout, and it fell down motionless. 'I see quite well,' said the stranger, 'that you do not lack for courage, but there is one more condition that you will have to fulfill.' 'If it does not endanger my salvation,' answered the soldier, who knew quite well who was standing before him. 'Otherwise I'll have nothing to do with it.' 'You'll see about that for yourself,' answered Greenjacket. 'For the next seven years you are neither to wash yourself, nor comb your beard and hair, nor cut your nails, nor say the Lord's prayer. I will give you a jacket and a cloak, which you must wear during this time. If you die during these seven years, you are mine. If you stay alive, you are free, and rich as well, for all the rest of your life.' The soldier thought about his desperate situation, and having faced death so often before, he decided to risk it now as well, and he entered into the agreement. The devil took off his green jacket and gave it to the soldier, saying, 'Whenever you wear this jacket and reach into its pocket, you will find a handful of money.' Then he pulled the skin off the bear and said, 'This shall be your cloak, and your bed as well, for you are to sleep on it, and you are not allowed to lie in any other bed. Because of your clothing you shall you be called Bearskin.' With that the devil disappeared. The soldier put on the jacket, immediately reached into the pocket, and found that the promise was really true. Then he put on the bearskin and went forth into the world. He did whatever he pleased, refraining from nothing that did him good and his money harm. During the first year his appearance was still acceptable, but during the second he looked like a monster. His hair covered nearly his entire face. His beard looked like a piece of coarse felt cloth. His fingers had claws, and his face was so covered with dirt that if someone had planted cress on it, it would have grown. Everyone who saw him ran away. However, because everywhere he went he gave money to the poor to pray that he might not die during the seven years, and because he paid well for everything, he always found shelter. In the fourth year he arrived an inn. The innkeeper would not let him enter, refusing even to let him have a place in the stable because he was afraid he would frighten the horses. However, when Bearskin reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of ducats, the innkeeper softened and gave him a room in an outbuilding. Bearskin, however, had to promise not to let himself be seen, lest the inn should get a bad name. One evening Bearskin was sitting alone, wishing with all his heart that the seven years were over, he heard a loud moaning in a neighboring room. He had a compassionate heart, so he opened the door and saw an old man weeping bitterly and striking his hands together above his head. Bearskin went nearer, but the man jumped to his feet and tried to run away. At last, hearing a human voice, the man let Bearskin talk to him, and with friendly words Bearskin succeeded in getting the old man to reveal the cause of his grief. Slowly but surely the old man had lost his wealth, and now he and his daughters would have to starve. He was so poor that he could not pay the innkeeper and was to be sent to prison. 'If that is your only problem,' said Bearskin, 'I have money enough.' He called for the innkeeper and paid him, and then put a bag full of gold into the poor man's pocket. When the old man saw that he was freed from all his troubles he did not know how to show his gratitude. 'Come with me,' he said to Bearskin. 'My daughters are all miracles of beauty. Choose one of them for your wife. When she hears what you have done for me she will not refuse you. You do look a little strange, to be sure, but she will put you in order again.' This pleased Bearskin well, and he went with the old man. When the oldest daughter saw him she was so terrified at his face that she screamed and ran away. The second one stood still and looked at him from head to foot, but then she said, 'How can I accept a husband who no longer has a human form? The shaved bear that once was here and passed itself off for a man pleased me far better. At least it was wearing a hussar's fur and white gloves. If ugliness were his only flaw, I could get used to him.' The youngest one, however, said, 'Father, dear, he must be a good man to have helped you out of your trouble. If you promised him a bride for doing so, your word must be kept.' It was a pity that Bearskin's face was covered with dirt and hair, for otherwise they would have seen how his heart laughed within his body when he heard these words. He took a ring from his finger, broke it in two, and gave her one half. He kept the other half himself. He then wrote his name inside her half, and her name inside his. He asked her to take good care of her piece. Then he took leave saying, 'I must wander about for three more years. If I do not return at that time you are free, for I shall be dead. But ask God to preserve my life.' The poor bride-to-be dressed herself entirely in black, and when she thought about her future bridegroom, tears came into her eyes. From her sisters she received nothing but contempt and scorn. 'Be careful,' said the oldest. 'If you give him your hand, he will hit you with his claws.' 'Beware,' said the second. 'Bears like sweet things, and if he takes a liking to you, he will eat you up.' 'You must always do what he wants you to,' continued the oldest, 'or he will begin to growl.' And the second added, 'But the wedding will be merry, for bears dance well.' The bride-to-be said nothing and did not let them irritate her. Bearskin, however, traveled about the world from one place to another, did good wherever he could, and gave generously to the poor that they might pray for him. Finally, at dawn on the last day of the seven years, he went once more out to the heath, and seated himself beneath the circle of trees. Before long the wind began to howl, and the devil stood before him, looking at him angrily. He threw Bearskin's old jacket to him and demanded the return of his own green one. 'We haven't gotten that far yet,' answered Bearskin. 'First of all you have to clean me up.' Whether the devil wanted to or not, he had to fetch water and wash off Bearskin, comb his hair, and cut his nails. After this he looked like a brave soldier and was much better looking than he had ever been before. When the devil was safely gone Bearskin was quite lighthearted. He went into the town, purchased a splendid velvet jacket, seated himself in a carriage drawn by four white horses, and drove to his bride's house. No one recognized him. The father took him for a distinguished colonel and led him into the room where his daughters were sitting. He was given a seat between the two oldest ones. They poured wine for him, served him the finest things to eat, and thought that they had never seen a more handsome man in all the world. The bride-to-be, however, sat across from him in her black dress without raising her eyes or speaking a word. Finally he asked the father if he would give him one of his daughters for a wife, whereupon the two oldest ones jumped up and ran into their bedrooms to put on splendid dresses, for each of them thought that she was the chosen one. As soon as he was alone with his bride-to-be, the stranger brought out his half of the ring and dropped it into a glass of wine, which he handed across the table to her. She took the wine, but when she had drunk it and found the half ring lying at the bottom, her heart began to beat. She took the other half, which she wore on a ribbon around her neck, put them together, and saw that the two pieces matched perfectly. Then he said, 'I am your betrothed bridegroom, whom you saw as Bearskin. Through God's grace I have regained my human form and have become clean again.' He went to her, embraced her, and gave her a kiss. In the meantime the two sisters came back in full dress. When they saw that the youngest sister had received the handsome man, and heard that he was Bearskin, they ran out filled with anger and rage. One of them drowned herself in the well. The other hanged herself on a tree. That evening, someone knocked at the door, and when the bridegroom opened it, it was the devil in his green jacket, who said, 'You see, I now have two souls for the one of yours.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
361,Bearskin (Grimmelshausen),Hans Jakob Christoph von Grimmelshausen,"I used this edition: Hans Jacob Christoph von Grimmelshausen, Simplicianische Schriften, edited by Julius Tittmann, vol. 1 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1877), pp. 247-53.","Abstracted from Hans Jakob Christoph von Grimmelshausen, 'Vom Ursprung des Namens Bärnhäuter' (1670).","The foes of war were soon replaced by the enemies cold, thirst, and hunger. With nowhere to turn for help, he was about to surrender to the powers of despair, when without warning an awful spirit appeared before him. He offered the poor soldier great wealth, if he would but serve this uncanny master for seven years. Seeing no other escape from his misery, the soldier agreed. The terms of the pact were quickly stated: For seven years the soldier was to wear only a bearskin robe, both day and night. He was to say no prayers. Neither comb nor shears were to touch his hair and beard. He was not to wash, nor cut his nails, nor blow his nose, nor even wipe his behind. In return, the spirit would provide him with tobacco, food, drink, and an endless supply of money. The soldier, who by his very nature was not especially fond of either prayers or of cleanliness, entered into the agreement. He took lodgings in a village inn, and discovered soon enough that his great wealth was ample compensation for his strange looks and ill smell. A nobleman frequented this inn. Impressed by Bearskin's lavish and generous expenditures, he presented him with a proposal. 'I have three beautiful daughters,' he said. 'If the terms are right, you may choose any one of them for a bride.' Bearskin named a sum that was acceptable to the nobleman, and the two set forth to the palace to make the selection. The two older daughters made no attempt to hide their repugnance of the strange suitor, but the youngest unhesitatingly accepted her father's will. Bearskin formalized the betrothal by removing a ring from his own finger and twisting it into two pieces. One piece he gave to his future bride; the other he kept. Saying that soon he would return, he departed. The seven years were nearly finished, so a short time later Bearskin did indeed come back for his bride. Now freshly bathed, neatly shorn, elegantly dressed, and riding in a luxurious carriage, he was a suitor worthy of a princess. Identifying himself with his half of the twisted ring, he claimed his bride. Beside themselves with envy, and furious that they had squandered their rights to this handsome nobleman, one of the bride's older sisters hanged herself from a tree and the other one drowned herself in a well. Thus the devil gained two souls for the one that he had lost.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
361,Don Giovanni de la Fortuna,Sicily,"Lang's source: Laura Gonzenbach, Sicilianische Märchen: Aus dem Volksmund gesammelt, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Engelmann, 1870), no. 72, pp. 89-93.","Andrew Lang, The Pink Fairy Book (New York, London, and Bombay: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1897), pp. 356-360.","One day he was walking down a broad road when he was stopped by a handsome man he had never seen before, who, little as Don Giovanni knew it, was the devil himself. 'Would you like to be rich,' asked the devil, 'and to lead a pleasant life?' 'Yes, of course I should,' replied the Don. 'Well, here is a purse. Take it and say to it, 'Dear purse, give me some money,' and you will get as much as you can want. But the charm will only work if you promise to remain three years, three months, and three days without washing and without combing and without shaving your beard or changing your clothes. If you do all this faithfully, when the time is up you shall keep the purse for yourself, and I will let you off any other conditions.' Now Don Giovanni was a man who never troubled his head about the future. He did not once think how very uncomfortable he should be all those three years, but only that he should be able, by means of the purse, to have all sorts of things he had been obliged to do without. So he joyfully put the purse in his pocket and went on his way. He soon began to ask for money for the mere pleasure of it, and there was always as much as he needed. For a little while he even forgot to notice how dirty he was getting, but this did not last long, for his hair became matted with dirt and hung over his eyes, and his pilgrim's dress was a mass of horrible rags and tatters. He was in this state when, one morning, he happened to be passing a fine palace; and, as the sun was shining bright and warm, he sat down on the steps and tried to shake off some of the dust which he had picked up on the road. But in a few minutes a maid saw him, and said to her master, 'I pray you sir, to drive away that beggar who is sitting on the steps, or he will fill the whole house with his dirt.' So the master went out and called from some distance off, for he was really afraid to go near the man, 'You filthy beggar, leave my house at once!' 'You need not be so rude,' said Don Giovanni; 'I am not a beggar, and if I chose, I could force you and your wife to leave your house.' 'What is that you can do?' laughed the gentleman. 'Will you sell me your house?' asked Don Giovanni. 'I will buy it from you on the spot.' 'Oh, the dirty creature is quite mad!' thought the gentleman. 'I shall just accept his offer for a joke.' And aloud he said, 'All right. Follow me, and we will go to a lawyer and get him to make a contract.' And Don Giovanni followed him, and an agreement was drawn up by which the house was to be sold at once, and a large sum of money paid down in eight days. Then the Don want to an inn, where he hired two rooms, and, standing in one of them, said to his purse, 'Dear purse, fill this room with gold.' And when the eight days were up it was so full you could not have put in another sovereign. When the owner of the house came to take away his money Don Giovanni led him into the room and said, 'There, just pocket what you want.' The gentleman stared with open mouth at the astonishing sight. But he had given his word to sell the house, so he took his money, as he was told, and went away with his wife to look for some place to live in. And Don Giovanni left the inn and dwelt in the beautiful rooms, where his rags and dirt looked sadly out of place. And every day these got worse and worse. By and by the fame of his riches reached the ears of the king, and, as he himself was always in need of money, he sent for Don Giovanni, as he wished to borrow a large sum. Don Giovanni readily agreed to lend him what he wanted, and sent next day a huge wagon laden with sacks of gold. 'Who can he be?' thought the king to himself. 'Why, he is much richer than I!' The king took as much as he had need of, then ordered the rest to be returned to Don Giovanni, who refused to receive it, saying, 'Tell his majesty I am much hurt at his proposal. I shall certainly not take back that handful of gold, and, if he declines to accept it, keep it yourself.' The servant departed and delivered the message, and the king wondered more than ever how anyone could be so rich. At last he spoke to the queen, 'Dear wife, this man has done me a great service, and has, besides, behaved like a gentleman in not allowing me to send back the money. I wish to give him the hand of our eldest daughter.' The queen was quite pleased at this idea, and again a messenger was sent to Don Giovanni, offering him the hand of the eldest princess. 'His majesty is too good,' he replied. 'I can only humbly accept the honor.' The messenger took back this answer, but a second time returned with the request that Don Giovanni would present them with his picture, so that they might know what sort of a person to expect. But when it came, and the princess saw the horrible figure, she screamed out, 'What! Marry this dirty beggar? Never, never!' 'Ah, child,' answered the king, 'how could I ever guess that the rich Don Giovanni would ever look like that? But I have passed my royal word, and I cannot break it, so there is no help for you.' 'No, father, you may cut off my head, if you choose, but marry that horrible beggar -- I never will!' And the queen took her part, and reproached her husband bitterly for wishing his daughter to marry a creature like that. Then the youngest daughter spoke, 'Dear father, do not look so sad. As you have given your word, I will marry Don Giovanni.' The king fell on her neck, and thanked her and kissed her, but the queen and the elder girl had nothing for her but laughs and jeers. So it was settled, and then the king bade one of his lords go to Don Giovanni and ask him when the wedding day was to be, so that the princess might make ready. 'Let it be in two months,' answered Don Giovanni, for the time was nearly up that the devil had fixed, and he wanted a whole month to himself to wash off the dirt of the past three years. The very minute that the compact with the devil had come to an end his beard was shaved, his hair was cut, and his rags were burned, and day and night he lay in a bath of clear warm water. At length he felt he was clean again, and he put on splendid clothes, and hired a beautiful ship, and arrived in state at the king's palace. The whole of the royal family came down to the ship to receive him, and the whole way the queen and the elder princess teased the sister about the dirty husband she was going to have. But when they saw how handsome he really was their hearts were filled with envy and anger, so that their eyes were blinded, and they fell over into the sea and were drowned. And the youngest daughter rejoiced in the good luck that had come to her, and they had a splendid wedding when the days of mourning for her mother and sister were ended. Soon after, the old king died, and Don Giovanni became king. And he was rich and happy to the end of his days, for he loved his wife, and his purse always gave him money.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
361,Hell's Gatekeeper,Austria,This cautionary tale presents a contrary view to the one presented by the other stories in this group.,"Ignaz Vincenz Zingerle and Joseph Zingerle, 'Der höllische Thorwartl,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Buchhandlung, 1852), no. 7, pp. 41-42.","There was a very filthy boy who would never let himself be washed, always walking around with an unclean face. No amount of warning or pleading did any good, so every day the filthy one became more filthy. Now when people are very dirty and go about unwashed the evil one gains power over them. Many have painfully and bitterly experienced this, repenting too late. That is what happened to this boy. He suddenly disappeared. They saw neither hide nor hair of him, and no one knew what had become of him. Seven years passed since his disappearance, and he had nearly been forgotten when he suddenly showed up again. He had changed and aged so much that his closest acquaintances could scarcely recognize him. His skin color was now entirely black and his hair was very shaggy. Furthermore he was very quiet, saying almost nothing. But he did talk about one thing, especially to children. He told them that he had come under the power of the devil because of his refusal to wash, and that he had been forced to serve as a gatekeeper to Hell. Thus he had seen everyone who had gone through this fiery gate during this time, and there had been so many that he couldn't account for them all. Rich and noble, poor and lowly, men and women had to go past this gatekeeper, and he thanked God that he himself did not have to enter there and that his time of service was only seven years. He now resolved to wash himself thoroughly and never let himself become dirty. He faithfully kept this resolution, for he did not want to become Hell's gatekeeper once again and see the damned ones pass by him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
361,Never-Wash,Russia,The great Russian folktale collector's name is also anglicized as Aleksandr Afanas'ev.,"Alexander Afanasyev, Russian Folk-Tales, translated by Leonard A. Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 311-14.","Once upon a time there was a soldier who had served through three campaigns, but had never earned as much as an addled egg, and was then put on the retired list. Then, as he went on the road marching on and on, he became tired and sat down by a lake. And, as he rested, he began thinking things out, 'Where shall I now betake myself, and how shall I feed myself, and how the devil shall I enter into any service?' As soon as he had spoken these words a little devil rose up at once in front of him and said, 'Hail, soldier, what do you wish? Did you just now not say that you wished to become one of our servants? Why, soldier, come up and be hired; we will pay you well.' 'What is the work?' 'Oh, the work is easy enough: for fifteen years you must not shave, you must not have your hair cut, you must not blow your nose, and you must not change your garb. If you serve this service, then we will go to the king, who has three daughters. Two of them are mine, but the third shall be yours.' 'Very well,' said the soldier, 'I will undertake the contract; but I require in return to get anything my soul hankers after.' 'It shall be so; be at peace; we shall not be in default.' 'Well, let it befall at once. Carry me at once into the capital and give me a pile of money; you know yourself how little of these goods a soldier ever gets.' So the little devil dashed into the lake, got out a pile of gold, and instantaneously carried the soldier into the great city, and all at once he was there! 'What a fool I have been!' said the soldier. 'I have not done any service, no work, and I now have the money!' So he took a room, never cut his hair, never shaved, never wiped his nose, never changed his garb, and he lived on and grew wealthy, so wealthy he did not know what to do with his money. What was he to do with his silver and gold? 'Oh, very well, I will start helping the poor; possibly they may pray for my soul.' So the soldier began distributing alms to the needy, to the right and to the left, and he still had money over, however much he gave away! His fame spread over the whole kingdom, came to the ears of all. So the soldier lived for fourteen years, and on the fifteenth year the tsar's exchequer gave out. So he summoned the soldier. So the soldier came to him unwashed, unshaved, uncombed, with his nose unwiped and his dress unchanged. 'Health, your majesty!' 'Listen, soldier. You, they say, are good to all folks; will you lend me some money? I have not enough to pay my troops. If you will I will make you a general at once.' 'No, your Majesty, I do not wish to be a general; but if you will do me a favor, give me one of your daughters as my wife, and you shall have as much money as you wish for the Treasury.' So the king began to think. He was very fond of his daughters, but still he could not do anything whatsoever without money. 'Well,' he said, 'I agree. Have a portrait taken of yourself; I will show it to my daughters and ask which of them will take you.' So the soldier returned, had the portrait painted, which was feature for feature, unshaved, unwashed, uncombed, his nose unwiped, and in his old garb, and sent it to the tsar. Now, the tsar had three daughters, and the father summoned them and showed them the soldier's portrait. He said to the eldest, 'Will you go and marry him? He will redeem me from very great embarrassment.' The tsarevna saw what a monstrous animal had been painted, with tangled hair, uncut nails and unwiped nose. 'I certainly won't!' she said, ' I would sooner go to the devil.' And from somewhere or other the devil appeared, stood behind her with pen and paper, heard what she said, and entered her soul on his register. Then the father asked the next daughter, 'Will you go and marry the soldier? ' 'What! I would rather remain a maiden; I would rather tie myself up with the devil than go with him.' So the devil went and inscribed her soul as well. Then the father asked his youngest daughter, and she answered, 'Evidently this must be my lot. I will go and marry him and see what God shall give.' Then the tsar was very blithe at this, and he went and told the soldier to make ready for the betrothal, and he sent him twelve carts to carry the money away. Then the soldier made use of his devil. 'There are twelve carts; pile them all high at once with gold.' So the devil ran into the lake and the unholy ones set to work. Some of them brought up one sack, some two, and they soon filled the carts and sent them to the tsar, into his palace. Then the tsar looked, and now summoned the soldier to him every day, sat with him at one table, and ate and drank with him. When they got ready for the marriage the term of fifteen years was over. So he called the little devil and said, 'Now my service is over. Turn me into a youth.' So the devil cut him up into little bits, threw them into a cauldron, and began to brew him -- brewed him, washed him and collected all his bones, one by one, in the proper way, every bone with every bone, every joint with every joint, every nerve with every nerve. Then he sprinkled them with the water of life, and the soldier arose, such a fine young man as no tale can tell and no pen can write. He then married the youngest tsarevna, and they began to live a merry life of good. I was at the wedding. I drank mead and beer. They also had wine, and I drank it to the very dregs. But the little devil ran back into the lake, for his elder hauled him over the coals to answer for what he had done with the soldier. 'He has served out his period faithfully and honorably: he has never once shaved himself, nor cut his hair, nor wiped his nose, nor changed his clothes.' Then the elder was very angry. He said, 'In fifteen years you were not able to corrupt the soldier! Was all the money given in vain? What sort of a devil will you be after this?' And he had him thrown into the burning pitch. 'Oh no, please, grandfather,' said the grandson, ' I have lost the soldier's soul, but I have gained two others.' ' What?' 'Look: the soldier thought of marrying a tsarevna; the two elder daughters both declined and said they would rather marry a devil than the soldier. So there they are, and they belong to us.' So the grandfather devil approved what the grandson imp had done, and set him free. 'Yes,' he said, 'you know your business very well indeed.' Folk-Tales, translated by Leonard A. Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 311-14. Aleksandr Afanas'ev.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
361,The Devil as Partner,Switzerland,NA,"Otto Sutermeister, 'Der Teufel als Schwager,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz (Aarau: Sauerländer, 1873), no. 27, pp. 83-86.","One evening a traveling journeyman came to an inn, and because he had been strenuously walking for several days in a row, he decided to rest a few days. It didn't bother him that his purse would not cover his costs. The innkeeper got wind of this, and one evening he said, 'My good friend, you are now well rested. Be so good as to be on your way early in the morning. Here is the bill for what you owe me.' This brought both chills and fever to journeyman, who asked the innkeeper if he at least could not wait until tomorrow to be paid. 'Tomorrow,' he said, 'is one more day.' 'Good,' said the innkeeper, 'but be careful that you don't end up in the Black Tower Inn. Around here that's where folks stay who eat and drink more than their purses will cover.' As soon as the innkeeper had left, the journeyman threw himself onto his bed, but fear and worry kept him awake the entire night. Then suddenly a black figure approached his bed, and the journeyman recognized him as the devil for sure. He said, 'Fear not, my dear companion, if you'll provide the sausage, I'll bring the drinks. Lend me a hand, and I'll help you out of your predicament.' 'Doing what?' asked the journeyman. 'Just stay here in this inn for seven years,' said the devil. 'I'll keep you out of debt and provide you with everything you need. Afterward you'll be even better off, and you'll have money like the leaves on trees. In return for this you must neither wash yourself, nor comb your hair, nor cut your hair or nails.' 'That job is worth the pay,' thought the journeyman, and he entered the agreement without further hesitation. When the innkeeper appeared the next morning, the journeyman paid him every last penny that was due, and he still had a good surplus for future bills. The journeyman stayed at the inn for years and days, spending money as though it were sand on the beach. But he became as wild as the night, and no one wanted to look at him. One fine morning a merchant who lived nearby came to the inn. He had three strikingly beautiful daughters. He had come to tell his sorrows to the innkeeper, for he had badly miscalculated in a business deal and did not know how he was going to get out of the difficulty. 'Listen,' said the innkeeper. 'There's help for you here. A strange fellow has been living upstairs in my rented room for more than six years now. He lets himself go completely, and looks as bad as sin, but he has money like hay, and is a free-spender. Give him a try. Anyway, I've long noticed that he often stares at your house. Who knows, perhaps he's got his eye on one of your daughters. This advice made good sense to the merchant. He went upstairs to the journeyman, and the two of them soon struck a deal. The journeyman would pay the merchant's debts, and the merchant would give one of his daughters to the journeyman in marriage. However, when they went to the three daughters, and the father explained the situation to them, the oldest one ran away, crying out, 'Phooey, father! What sort of a monster is this that you've brought home? I'd sooner jump into water than to marry him.' The second daughter did no better. She cried out, 'Phooey, father! What sort of a creature is this that you've brought home? I'd sooner hang myself than to marry him.' But the third and youngest daughter said, 'He must be a good man, father, if he wants to rescue you. I'll take him.' She turned her eyes to the floor and did not look at him, but he took a great liking to her, and the wedding was set. The seven years that the devil had demanded were now past. On the morning of the wedding day a splendid coach, sparkling with gold and precious stones, drove up to the merchant's house. Out jumped the journeyman, who had now become a fine young nobleman. The bride breathed a sigh of relief, and there was endless rejoicing. The wedding party went to the church in a long procession, for the merchant and the innkeeper had invited all their relatives. Only the happy bride's two older sisters did not participate. They angrily took their own lives, the one at the end of a rope, the other in water. And as the bridegroom was leaving the church, he saw the devil again, the first time in seven years. He was sitting on a roof, laughing with satisfaction, and saying: Partner, I did better than you, You got one, and I got two.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
361,The King's Tabernacle,Wales,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Hermann Pückler-Muskau, Tour in England, Ireland, and France in the Years 1826, 1827, 1828, and 1829 (Philadelphia: Carey, Lea, and Blanchard, 1833), letter 28, p. 318. Source (Internet Archive): Hermann Pückler-Muskau, Tour in England, Ireland, and France in the Years 1826, 1827, 1828, and 1829 (Philadelphia: Carey, Lea, and Blanchard, 1833), letter 28, p. 318.","K___ Park, August 4th, 1828. Yesterday I took a very agreeable ride of some twenty miles on an untireable horse of iny host's; for distances disappear before the excellence of the horses and of the roads. I must tell you all I saw. I rode first to the small town of St. Asaph to look at the cathedral, which is adorned with a beautiful window of modern painted glass. Many coats of arms were extremely well executed, and the artist had the good sense to avoid the cominon error of endeavouring to represent objects not suited to his art, which requires masses of colour and no delicate and floating shades. To obtain a more perfect knowledge of the country, I ascended the tower. At a distance of about twelve miles I espied a church-like building on the summit of a high mountain, and asked the clerk what it was. He replied, in broken English, that it was 'the king's tabernacle,' and that whoever would pass seven years without washing himself, cutting his nails, or shaving his beard, would be allowed to live there; and at the expiration of the seventh year he would have a right to go to London, where the king must give him a pension and make him a 'gentleman.' The man believed this wild story implicitly, aud swore to its truth: 'Voila ce que c'est que la foi [That is what faith is].' I inquired afterwards the true state of the affair, and heard the origin of this history; namely, that the building was erected by the province, or 'county,' to commemorate the jubilee of the last king's reign, and had stood empty ever since; but that a wag had advertised a considerable reward in the newspapers, to any man who would fulfil the above-named conditions. The common people had mixed up this strange ordeal with the 'tabernacle' of King George III. fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
361,The Reward of Kindness,Philippines,"Fansler's source: 'Narrated by Elisa Cordero, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, La Laguna, who heard the story from a Tagalog friend.' Note: The narrator names both the hero's mother and his mother-in-law 'Clara,' probably an unintended oversight.","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 22, pp. 207-209.","In a certain town there once lived a couple who had never had a child. They had been married for nearly five years, and were very anxious for a son. The name of the wife was Clara; and of the man, Philip. One cloudy night in December, while they were talking by the window of their house, Clara said to her husband that she was going to pray the novena [nine consecutive days of praying], so that heaven would give them a child. 'I would even let my son serve the devil, if he would but give us a son!' As her husband was willing that she should pray the novena, Clara began the next day her fervent devotions to the Virgin Mary. She went to church every afternoon for nine days. She carried a small prayer book with her, and prayed until six o'clock every evening. At last she finished her novenario, but no child was born to them, and the couple was disappointed. A month had passed, when, to their great happiness, Clara gave birth to a son. The child they nicknamed Idó. Idó was greatly cherished by his parents, for he was their only child; but he did not care much to stay at home. He early began to show a fondness for travelling abroad, and was always to be found in the dense woods on the outskirts of the town. One afternoon, when the family was gathered together around a small table, talking, a knock was heard at the door. 'Come in!' said Philip. 'No, I just want to talk with your wife,' answered a hoarse voice from without. Clara, trembling, opened the door, and, to her great surprise, she saw standing there a man who looked like a bear. 'A devil, a devil!' she exclaimed. But the devil pacified her, and said, 'Clara, I have come here to get your son you promised me a long time ago. Now that the day has come when your son can be of some service to me, will you deny your promise?' Clara could make no reply at first. She merely called her son; and when he came, she said to the devil, 'Here is my son. Take him, since he is yours.' Idó, who was at this time about seventeen years old, was not frightened by the devil. 'Come,' said the devil, 'and be my follower!' At first Idó refused. But he finally consented to go, because of his mother's promise. The devil now took Idó to his cave, far away outside the town. He tried in many ways to tempt Idó, but was unable to do so, because Idó was a youth of strong character. Finally the devil decided to exchange clothes with him. Idó was obliged to put on the bear-like clothes of the devil and to give him his own soldier suit. Then the devil produced a large bag full of money, and said to Idó, 'Take this money and go traveling about the world for seven years. If you live to the end of that time, and spend this money only in doing good, I will set you free. If, however, you spend the money extravagantly, you will have to go to hell with me.' When had said these words, he disappeared. Idó now began his wanderings from town to town. Whenever people saw him, they were afraid of him, and would refuse to give him shelter; but Idó would give them money from his bag, and then they would gather about him and be kind to him. After many years he happened to come to a town where he saw an old woman summoned before a court of justice. She was accused of owing a sum of money, but was unable to pay her debt and the fine imposed on her. When Idó paid her fine for her and thus released her from prison, the woman could hardly express her gratitude. As most of the other people about were afraid of Idó and he had no place to sleep, this woman decided to take him home with her. Now, this old woman had three daughters. When she reached home with the bear-like man, she called her eldest daughter, and said, 'Now, my daughter, here is a man who delivered me from prison. As I can do nothing to reward him for his great kindness, I want you to take him for your husband.' The daughter replied, 'Mother, why have you brought this ugly man here? No, I cannot marry him. I can find a better husband.' On hearing this harsh reply, the mother could not say a word. She called her second daughter, and explained her wishes to her; but the younger daughter refused, just as her sister had refused, and she made fun of the man. The mother was very much disappointed, but she was unable to persuade her daughters to marry her benefactor. Finally she determined to try her youngest daughter. When the daughter heard her mother's request, she said, 'Mother, if to have me marry this man is the only way by which you can repay him for his kindness, I'll gladly marry him.' The mother was very much pleased, but the two older daughters were very angry with their sister. The mother told the man of the decision of her youngest daughter, and a contract was signed between them. But before they were married, the bear-like man asked permission from the girl to be absent for one more year to finish his duty. She consented to his going, and gave him half her ring as a memento. At the end of the year, which was the last of his seven years' wandering, the bear-like man went to the devil, and told him that he had finished his duty. The devil said, 'You have beaten me. Now that you have performed your seven years' wandering, and have spent the money honestly, let us exchange clothes again!' So the man received back his soldier-like suit, which made him look like a knight, and the devil took back his bearskin. Then the man returned to Clara's house. When his arrival was announced to the family, the two older daughters dressed themselves in their best, for they thought that he was a suitor come to see them. But when the man showed the ring and asked for the hand of Clara's youngest daughter, the two nearly died with vexation, while the youngest daughter was very happy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,Beauty and the Beast (Basque),Basque,Webster's source: Estefanella Hirigaray.,"Wentworth Webster, Basque Legends, 2nd edition (London: Griffith and Farran, 1879), pp. 167-72.","As there are many in the world in its state now, there was a king who had three daughters. He used continually to bring handsome presents to his two elder daughters, but did not pay any attention at all to his youngest daughter, and yet she was the prettiest and most amiable. The king kept going from fair to fair, and from feast to feast, and from everywhere he used to bring something for the two eldest daughters. One day, when he was going to a feast, he said to his youngest daughter, 'I never bring anything home for you; tell me then what you want and you shall have it.' She said to her father, 'And I do not want anything.' 'Yes, yes, I am going to bring you something.' 'Very well then, bring me a flower.' He goes off, and is busy buying and buying; for one a hat, for the other a beautiful piece of stuff for a dress, and for the first again a shawl; and he was returning home, when in passing before a beautiful castle, he sees a garden quite full of flowers, and he says to himself, 'What! I was going home without a flower for my daughter; here I shall have plenty of them.' He takes some then, and as soon, as he has done so, a voice says to him, 'Who gave you permission to take that flower? As you have three daughters, if you do not bring me one of them before the year be finished, you shall be burnt wherever you are -- you, and your whole kingdom.' The king goes off home. He gives his elder daughters their presents, and her nosegay to the youngest. She thanks her father. After a certain time this king became sad. His eldest daughter said to him, 'What is the matter with you ?' He says to her, 'If one of my daughters will not go to such a spot before the end of the year, I shall be burned.' His eldest daughter answers him, 'Be burned if you like; as for me, I shall not go. I have no wish at all to go there. Settle it with the others.' The second also asks him, 'You seem very sad, papa; what is the matter with you?' He told her how he is bound to send one of his daughters to such a place before the end of the year, otherwise he should be burned. This one too says to him, 'Manage your own business as you like, but do not reckon upon me.' The youngest, after some days, said to him, 'What is the matter with you, my father, that you are so sad? Has someone done you some hurt?' He said to her, 'When I went to get your nosegay, a voice said to me, 'I must have one of your daughters before the year be completed,' and now I do not knew what I must do. It told me that I shall be burned.' This daughter said to him, 'My father, do not be troubled about it. I will go.' And she sets out immediately in a carriage. She arrives at the castle and goes in, and she hears music and sounds of rejoicing everywhere, and yet she did not see anyone. She finds her chocolate ready (in the morning), and her dinner the same. She goes to bed, and still she does not see anyone. The next morning a voice says to her, 'Shut your eyes; I wish to place my head on your knees for a moment.' 'Come, come; I am not afraid.' There appears then an enormous serpent. Without intending it, the young lady could not help giving a little shudder. An instant after the serpent went away; and the young lady lived very happily, without lacking anything. One day the voice asked her if she did not wish to go home. She answers, 'I am very happy here. I have no longing for it.' 'Yes, if you like, you may go for three days.' He gives her a ring, and says to her, 'If that changes colour, I shall be ill, and if it turns to blood, I shall be in great misery.' The young lady sets out for her father's house. Her father was very glad (to see her). Her sisters said to her, 'You must be happy there. You are prettier than you were before. With whom do you live there?' She told them, 'With a serpent.' They would not believe her. The three days flew by like a dream, and she forgot her serpent. The fourth day she looked at her ring, and she saw that it was changed. She rubs it with her finger, and it begins to bleed. Seeing that she goes running to her father, and says to him that she is going. She arrives at the castle, and finds everything sad. The music will not play -- everything was shut up. She called the serpent (his name was Azor, and hers Fifine). She kept on calling and crying out to him, but Azor appeared nowhere. After having searched the whole house, after having taken off her shoes, she goes to the garden, and there too she cries out. She finds a corner of the earth in the garden quite frozen, and immediately she makes a great fire over this spot, and there Azor comes out, and he says to her, 'You had forgotten me, then. If you had not made this fire, it would have been all up with me.' Fifine said to him, 'Yes, I had forgotten you, but the ring made me think of you.' Azor said to her, 'I knew what was going to happen; that is why I gave you the ring.' And coming into the house, she finds it as before, all full of rejoicings -- the music was playing on all sides. Some days after that Azor said to her, 'You must marry me.' Fifine gives no answer. He asks her again like that three times, and still she remained silent, silent. The whole house becomes sad again. She has no more her meals ready. Again Azor asks her if she will marry him. Still she does not answer, and she remains like that in darkness several days without eating anything, and she said to herself, 'Whatever it shall cost me I must say yes.' When the serpent asks her again, 'Will you marry me?' she answers, 'Not with the serpent, but with the man.' As soon as she had said that the music begins as before. Azor says to her that she must go to her father's house and get all things ready that are necessary, and they will marry the next day. The young lady goes as he had told her. She says to her father that she is going to be married to the serpent tomorrow, (and asks him) if he will prepare everything for that. The father consents, but he is vexed. Her sisters, too, ask her whom she is going to marry, and they are astounded at hearing that it is with a serpent. Fifine goes back again, and Azor says to her, 'Which would you prefer, from the house to the church, serpent, or from the church to the house, serpent?' Fifine says to him, 'From the house to the church, serpent.' Azor says to her, 'I, too.' A beautiful carriage comes to the door. The serpent gets in, and Fifine places herself at his side, and when they arrive at the king's house the serpent says to her, 'Shut the doors and the curtains, that nobody may see.' Fifine says to him, 'But they will see you as you get down.' 'No matter; shut them all the same.' She goes to her father. Her father comes with all his court to fetch the serpent. He opens the door, and who is astonished ? Why, everybody. Instead of a serpent there is a charming young man; and they all go to the church. When they come out there is a grand dinner at the king's, but the bridegroom says to his wife, 'Today we must not make a feast at all. We have a great business to do in the house; we will come another day for the feast.' She told that to her father, and they go on to their house. When they are come there her husband brings her in a large basket a serpent's skin, and says to her, 'You will make a great fire, and when you hear the first stroke of midnight you will throw this serpent's skin into the fire. That must be burnt up, and you must throw the ashes out of window before the last stroke of twelve has ceased striking. If you do not do that I shall be wretched forever.' The lady says to him, 'Certainly; I will do everything that I can to succeed.' She begins before midnight to make the fire. As soon as she heard the first stroke she throws the serpent's skin on the fire, and takes two spits and stirs the fire, and moves about the skin and burns it, till ten strokes have gone. Then she takes a shovel, and throws the ashes outside as the last twelfth stroke is ending. Then a terrible voice says, 'I curse your cleverness, and what you have just done.' At the same time her husband comes in. He did not know where he was for joy. He kisses her, and does not know how to tell his wife what great good she has done him. 'Now I do not fear anything. If you had not done as I told you, I should have been enchanted for twenty-one years more. Now it is all over, and we will go at our ease tomorrow to your father's house for the wedding feast.' They go the next day and enjoy themselves very much. They return to their palace to take away the handsomest things, because they did not wish to stop any more in that corner of the mountain. They load all their valuable things in carts and waggons, and go to live with the king. This young lady has four children, two boys and two girls, and as her sisters were very jealous of her, their father sent them out of the house. The king gave his crown to his son-in-law, who was already a son of a king. As they had lived well, they died well too.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,Beauty and the Beast (Jacobs),Joseph Jacobs,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, Europa's Fairy Book [also published under the title European Folk and Fairy Tales] (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), no. 5, pp. 34-41. Reconstructed from various European sources.","There was once a merchant that had three daughters, and he loved them better than himself. Now it happened that he had to go a long journey to buy some goods, and when he was just starting he said to them, 'What shall I bring you back, my dears?' And the eldest daughter asked to have a necklace; and the second daughter wished to have a gold chain; but the youngest daughter said, 'Bring back yourself, papa, and that is what I want the most.' 'Nonsense, child,' said her father, 'you must say something that I may remember to bring back for you.' 'So,' she said, 'then bring me back a rose, father.' Well, the merchant went on his journey and did his business and bought a pearl necklace for his eldest daughter, and a gold chain for his second daughter; but he knew it was no use getting a rose for the youngest while he was so far away because it would fade before he got home. So he made up his mind he would get a rose for her the day he got near his house. When all his merchanting was done he rode off home and forgot all about the rose till he was near his house; then he suddenly remembered what he had promised his youngest daughter, and looked about to see if he could find a rose. Near where he had stopped he saw a great garden, and getting off his horse he wandered about in it till he found a lovely rosebush; and he plucked the most beautiful rose he could see on it. At that moment he heard a crash like thunder, and looking around he saw a huge monster -- two tusks in his mouth and fiery eyes surrounded by bristles, and horns coming out of its head and spreading over its back. 'Mortal,' said the beast, 'who told you you might pluck my roses?' 'Please, sir,' said the merchant in fear and terror for his life, 'I promised my daughter to bring her home a rose and forgot about it till the last moment, and then I saw your beautiful garden and thought you would not miss a single rose, or else I would have asked your permission.' 'Thieving is thieving,' said the beast, 'whether it be a rose or a diamond; your life is forfeit.' The merchant fell on his knees and begged for his life for the sake of his three daughters who had none but him to support them. 'Well, mortal, well,' said the beast, 'I grant your life on one condition: Seven days from now you must bring this youngest daughter of yours, for whose sake you have broken into my garden, and leave her here in your stead. Otherwise swear that you will return and place yourself at my disposal.' So the merchant swore, and taking his rose mounted his horse and rode home. As soon as he got into his house his daughters came rushing round him, clapping their hands and showing their joy in every way, and soon he gave the necklace to his eldest daughter, the chain to his second daughter, and then he gave the rose to his youngest, and as he gave it he sighed. 'Oh, thank you, father,' they all cried. But the youngest said, 'Why did you sigh so deeply when you gave me my rose?' 'Later on I will tell you,' said the merchant. So for several days they lived happily together, though the merchant wandered about gloomy and sad, and nothing his daughters could do would cheer him up till at last he took his youngest daughter aside and said to her, 'Bella, do you love your father?' 'Of course I do, father, of course I do.' 'Well, now you have a chance of showing it'; and then he told her of all that had occurred with the beast when he got the rose for her. Bella was very sad, as you can well think, and then she said, 'Oh, father, it was all on account of me that you fell into the power of this beast; so I will go with you to him; perhaps he will do me no harm; but even if he does -- better harm to me than evil to my dear father.' So next day the merchant took Bella behind him on his horse, as was the custom in those days, and rode off to the dwelling of the beast. And when he got there and they alighted from his horse the doors of the house opened, and what do you think they saw there! Nothing. So they went up the steps and went through the hall, and went into the dining room, and there they saw a table spread with all manner of beautiful glasses and plates and dishes and napery, with plenty to eat upon it. So they waited and they waited, thinking that the owner of the house would appear, till at last the merchant said, 'Let's sit down and see what will happen then.' And when they sat down invisible hands passed them things to eat and to drink, and they ate and drank to their heart's content. And when they arose from the table it arose too and disappeared through the door as if it were being carried by invisible servants. Suddenly there appeared before them the beast who said to the merchant, 'Is this your youngest daughter?' And when he had said that it was, he said, 'Is she willing to stop here with me?' And then he looked at Bella who said, in a trembling voice, 'Yes, sir.' 'Well, no harm shall befall you.' With that he led the merchant down to his horse and told him he might come that day each week to visit his daughter. Then the beast returned to Bella and said to her, 'This house with all that therein is is yours; if you desire aught, clap your hands and say the word and it shall be brought unto you.' And with that he made a sort of bow and went away. So Bella lived on in the home with the beast and was waited on by invisible servants and had whatever she liked to eat and to drink; but she soon got tired of the solitude and, next day, when the beast came to her, though he looked so terrible, she had been so well treated that she had lost a great deal of her terror of him. So they spoke together about the garden and about the house and about her father's business and about all manner of things, so that Bella lost altogether her fear of the beast. Shortly afterwards her father came to see her and found her quite happy, and he felt much less dread of her fate at the hands of the beast. So it went on for many days, Bella seeing and talking to the beast every day, till she got quite to like him, until one day the beast did not come at his usual time, just after the midday meal, and Bella quite missed him. So she wandered about the garden trying to find him, calling out his name, but received no reply. At last she came to the rosebush from which her father had plucked the rose, and there, under it, what do you think she saw! There was the beast lying huddled up without any life or motion. Then Bella was sorry indeed and remembered all the kindness that the beast had shown her; and she threw herself down by it and said, 'Oh, Beast, Beast, why did you die? I was getting to love you so much.' No sooner had she said this than the hide of the beast split in two and out came the most handsome young prince who told her that he had been enchanted by a magician and that he could not recover his natural form unless a maiden should, of her own accord, declare that she loved him. Thereupon the prince sent for the merchant and his daughters, and he was married to Bella, and they all lived happy together ever afterwards.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,Beauty and the Horse,Denmark,"Bay's sources for this collection: Svend Grundtvig, E. T. Kristensen, Ingvor Bondesen, and L. Budde.","J. Christian Bay, Danish Fairy and Folk Tales (New York and London: Harper and Brothers, 1899), pp. 14-20.","There was once a merchant whose business was so immense that he was the wealthiest tradesman known. He had three daughters, one of whom was named Beauty. One day the merchant received word from friends far away, informing him of the failure of one of his connections, and he at once prepared himself for a journey to that place. The two older daughters asked him to buy all sorts of finery and dresses for them, but Beauty asked for nothing at all. When the merchant left, these two girls had rubbed their eyes with onions in order to look as if they were sorry to bid him good-bye; but Beauty needed no such artifice; her tears were quite natural. So the merchant went away, and in due time arrived at the place where the tradesman of whom he had heard the bad news was living. But instead of obtaining money, as he hoped, he was kicked and beaten so violently that it seems a great wonder he came away without losing his life. Of course he had now nothing to do but return, so he mounted his horse and turned homeward. Towards evening he unfortunately lost his way, and when it became quite dark he knew no better than to ride in the direction of a light which was shining from a distance. At length he reached a beautiful little palace, but although it was lighted, there seemed to be no one at home. After a while he found a shelter and food for his horse -- pure oats, and nothing else. The animal might well dance for joy, for both man and beast were well-nigh exhausted from the long ride. When the horse had been provided for, the master stepped into the palace. There a light was burning, and a table was laid for one person, but no one was to be seen. As the merchant was tired, he sat down without invitation, and ate a hearty supper. A fine bed was there, too, and when he had eaten enough he stretched himself among the pillows and enjoyed a good night's rest. The next morning everything appeared as on the evening before. The horse was well supplied, and as breakfast was ready on the table, the merchant seated himself, doing justice to the good meal. At he was now ready to leave, he thought it might be well to look over the premises, and glancing into the garden he perceived some exquisite flowers. He went down, intending to carry some of them home with him as a present for Beauty; but no sooner had he touched them than a horse came running towards him as fast as it could trot, saying, 'You thoughtless man; I was good to you last night, I gave you shelter and provisions, and now you would even take with you the most beautiful flowers in my garden.' The merchant immediately begged pardon, saying that he had intended the flowers as a gift for Beauty, his daughter. 'Have you several daughters?' asked the horse. 'Yes, I have three, and Beauty is the youngest one,' he replied. 'Now you must promise me,' said the horse, 'that you will give me the daughter whose name is Beauty; if you refuse, I will take your life.' Well, the merchant did not wish to lose his life, so he promised to bring his daughter to the palace, whereupon the horse disappeared among the trees, and the man rode home. As soon as he reached his house, the two older daughters came out and asked him for the fine things which they were expecting. But Beauty came and bid him welcome. He produced the flowers and gave them to her, saying, 'These are for you, but they cost your life,' and he then told her how he had been obliged to make the fatal promise to the horse, in order to save his life. Beauty at once said, 'I am willing to follow you, father, and am always glad to help you.' They started on their journey, and soon arrived at the palace. As before, no one was to be seen, but the merchant found food for his horses and a good stable The table was also laid for two persons, and there were two beds. Having done justice to the supper, father and daughter retired and slept soundly. When they awoke the next morning, they found breakfast ready for both, ate heartily, and having exchanged many loving and tender words, they separated, the father riding away. We will let him proceed, and see what occurred at the palace. Shortly before dinnertime the horse arrived. He came into the room and said, 'Welcome, Beauty!' She did not feel very glad, and had all she could do in keeping her tears back. 'You shall do nothing but walk around in these rooms and in the garden,' continued the horse. 'Your meals are provided for. I shall come home every day at noon; at other times you must not expect me.' Time passed, and Beauty felt so lonely that she often longed for noon, when the horse came home, and she could talk with him. She gradually came to look at him more and more kindly; but one thing caused her great distress, namely, that she had no news from her father. One day she mentioned this to the horse. 'Yes,' said he, 'I understand that very well. In the large room you will find a mirror in which you can see all that you are thinking of.' She was happy to learn this, and went straight into the room where the mirror was hanging. As soon as she thought of her father, her old home was visible in the glass, and she noticed how he was sitting in his chair with a sorrowful expression upon his countenance, while his two daughters were singing and dancing. Beauty felt sorry over this state of affairs, and the next day she told the horse what she had seen. 'Your father is sorry, I suppose,' said the horse, ' because he has lost you. He will soon feel better, however.' But on the next day, when Beauty consulted the mirror, her father looked pale and ill, like one who is deadly sick; both of her sisters were dressed for a ball, and neither of them seemed to care for the weak man. Beauty burst into tears, and when the horse came home, asking what ailed her, she told him of the bad state of affairs, wishing that he would allow her to return and nurse her poor father during his illness. 'If you will promise to come back,' said the horse, 'you may return and stay for three days; but under no condition must you break your word.' Beauty told him she would come back in three days. 'Tonight,' resumed the horse, 'before going to bed, you must place the mirror under your pillow, saying, 'I wish to be home tomorrow.' Then your wish will be fulfilled. When you desire to return, you must do likewise.' The next morning, when Beauty awoke, she was at her old home. Her father became so glad to see her again that he at once felt a great deal better. She cared so well for him that the next day he was able to be up, and on the third day he was almost well. As he wished her to stay with him a few days longer, she complied, thinking that no harm would come from it. On the third day after, however, when she looked into the mirror, she saw the horse stretched on the ground in front of the bench which was her favorite seat in the garden. She now felt that it would be impossible for her to remain longer, hence in the evening, before going to bed, she placed the mirror under her pillow, saying: 'I wish to be at the palace tomorrow morning.' She promptly awoke in the palace the following morning, and hurrying into the garden she found the horse so very sick that he could not stand on his legs. Beauty knelt down and asked him to forgive her for staying away longer than she had promised. The horse asked her if she could not persuade herself to stay with him all her life, but she answered that it would seem very singular to live with a horse all her lifetime. The poor animal now sighed so deeply that she took pity on him and said, fearing that he might die then and there, that she would always stay with him and never leave him. As soon as she had made this promise, the horse vanished, and a beautiful young prince stood before her. He seized her hand and asked whether she was not sorry for the promise she had made. No, she said, she would rather stay with him now than when he was in the shape of a horse. He now told her that both he and the whole land had been enchanted by his wicked stepmother, who had converted him into a horse, and told him that only when a beautiful young girl would promise to stay with him, in his altered shape, would the enchantment be over. He wanted to marry Beauty, and live in the palace which belonged to him. So they sent for her father to take up his residence with them, and now the marriage was performed and celebrated in a splendid manner. They lived long and happily together, the prince and his Beauty. Fairy and Folk Tales (New York and London: Harper and Brothers, 1899), pp. 14-20. Ingvor Bondesen, and L. Budde.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,Little Broomstick,Germany,"Ludwig Bechstein (1801-1860) was Germany's most widely read collector and editor of folktales during the nineteenth century, his popularity within Germany at that time surpassing that of his more scholarly contemporaries, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.","Ludwig Bechstein, 'Besenstielchen,' Deutsches Märchenbuch, 5th edition (Leipzig: Verlag von Georg Wigand, 1847), pp. 228-32.","There was once a merchant who had three daughters. The two older ones were proud and haughty. The younger one, however, was well behaved and modest, although her beauty greatly surpassed that of her sisters. She dressed simply, and thus unconsciously enhanced her beauty more than her sisters were able to do with the most expensive clothing and jewelry. Nettchen, that was the name of the merchant's youngest daughter, had a dear girlfriend who was very poor, but equally beautiful and virtuous. She was a broom binder's daughter, and was for this reason was called Little Broomstick by young and old alike. Both girls were of one heart and one soul. They entrusted one another with their little secrets, and between them all class distinctions fell by the wayside. This angered the older sisters greatly, but Nettchen let them scold, and loved her Little Broomstick nonetheless. Once the merchant was planning a long journey, although the season was already very advanced. He asked his daughters if they had a wish as to what he should bring home to them. The oldest one said, 'Bring me a golden necklace!' The second, 'Bring me a pair of earrings that are so beautiful that all women be envious of me because of them!' The youngest said that she had no wish, because her father, in his goodness, had already given her everything. But the merchant insisted, so she answered with a smile, 'Then bring me three roses growing on one stem.' She was convinced that her father would not be able to find such a present in the middle of winter. He kissed her for her modesty and set forth on his journey. He was on his way home when he remembered the presents that he was supposed to get for his daughters. He soon found a golden necklace and a pair of splendid earrings, but not so the three roses for Nettchen. The father had just decided to buy some other valuable present for his darling, when suddenly -- to his surprise -- he came upon a green area. He stepped through a wide gateway and found himself in a large, blossoming garden adjacent to a splendid castle. Outside everything was covered with snow, but in the garden the trees were in blossom, nightingales were singing in the bushes, and finally he even saw a blossoming rosebush, and on one of its branches were three of the most beautiful half-open buds. Elated, he thought that now he would be able to fulfill Nettchen's wish, and he broke off the branch. He had scarcely done so when an enormous beast with a long ugly snout, ears hanging down, and a shaggy coat and tail appeared before him and laid his long sharp claws on his shoulder. The merchant was deathly frightened, and even worse when the beast began to speak, threatening him with death for his misdeed. The merchant begged, telling him why he wanted the roses, whereupon the beast answered, 'Your youngest daughter must be a true pearl of her sex. Very well, if you will promise to give her to me as a wife in seven months, then you shall live and return to your people.' As terrified as the merchant was at this proposal, his fear nevertheless led him to make the promise, thinking that he would be able to trick the monster. The merchant returned to his people and distributed the presents. However, he was sad and melancholy, and they noticed that he was carrying a great burden in his heart. Nettchen asked him to tell her what was troubling him, but he only gave her excuses. He told the secret only to the two older daughters, who wickedly took pleasure in the situation. So that the father could keep his eyes on her, Nettchen was almost never allowed to leave the house. Only Little Broomstick came to visit her from time to time. One day -- the seventh month had just passed -- she and Little Broomstick were again together when a carriage stopped before the house. A servant, gesturing silently, handed a note to the merchant. On it were written the words, 'Fulfill your promise!' The merchant was terrified, but he collected himself and asked Little Broomstick to come to him. The girl came, expecting nothing bad. The merchant pointed at her. She was lifted into the carriage, and away they went in a thundering gallop. However, the beast recognized the deception as soon as Little Broomstick was brought before him, and he ordered the girl to go home immediately and bring back the right one. The carriage stopped again before the merchant's house, and when Little Broomstick stepped out, Nettchen fell around her neck with friendly greetings. But then she was picked up and shoved into the carriage, which drove away with its booty as fast as an arrow. Nettchen was very frightened, but she soon collected herself. Inside the strange, beautiful castle she was received with honor, although with silent gestures, and she no longer felt concerned. Silent servants brought her the most delicious things to eat and showed her to a bedroom, where a blinding white canopy bed invited her to rest. After saying her prayers, she surrendered to the arms of sleep. When she awoke she saw to her fright that a disgusting shaggy monster lay next to her. But it was lying there still and quiet, so she left it alone. Then it left, and she had time to think about her adventure. The ugly beast gradually became her sleeping companion, and she grew less and less afraid of him. He cuddled up to her, and she stroked his shaggy coat and even allowed him to touch her lips with his long, cold snout. This had gone on for four weeks when one night the beast did not come to her. Nettchen could not sleep for worry and concern about what might have happened to the beast, whom she had become quite fond of. The next morning she was walking in the garden when she saw the beast lying all stretched out on the bank of a pond that served as a bath. He did not move a limb and showed every sign of being dead. A bitter pain penetrated her breast, and she cried over the death of the poor beast. But her tears had scarcely started to flow when the monster was transformed into a handsome youth. He stood up before her, pressed her hand to his breast, and said, 'You have redeemed me from a terrible curse. My father wanted me to marry a woman whom I did not love. I refused steadfastly, and in his anger, my father had a sorceress transform me into a monster. The transformation was to last until an innocent virgin would fall in love with me in spite of my ugly form, and would cry tears on my behalf. You with your heart of an angel have done just that, and I cannot thank you enough. If you will become my wife, I will repay with love what you have done for me.' Nettchen extended him her hand, and they were married. Then the deathly quiet castle awoke in a hustle and bustle. Joy ruled everywhere, and the newlyweds lived in bliss. Now the young wife had been given the requirement that she not return to her father's house for one year. However, she obtained a mirror in which she could see everything that was happening in her family circle. Nettchen looked into the mirror often, and she saw her father in his sorrow, although her sisters were cheerful and gay. She observed Little Broomstick as well, and how she mourned for her lost girlfriend. She did not look into the mirror for some time, and when she returned to it, she saw her father on his deathbed and her sisters in the next room making merry with their friends. This saddened the good sister, and she confided her sorrow with her husband. He comforted her, saying, 'Your father will not die. In my garden there is a plant whose sap can call back the fleeing life-spirits. The year is nearly over. Then we will fetch your father, and you will not have to be separated from him any longer.' Nettchen was pleased with this, and as soon as the year had passed, the husband and wife and their magnificent entourage journeyed to Nettchen's home city. The two older sisters nearly burst with envy and anger, while the father's joy brought back his health, so that evil turned to good. The sap restored his full strength and wellbeing. Little Broomstick too was overjoyed, and Nettchen was her old girlfriend once again. She and the merchant accompanied them back to the prince's castle. Nettchen had a forgiving heart, and however much she had been hurt by her sisters, she wanted to share her good fortune with them. Therefore she invited them to visit her, and showed them all her wealth. However, the splendor angered the sisters, and they resolved to kill their happy sister. Once when they were in the bath, they forced Nettchen under the water, and she drowned. They had scarcely done this when a tall female figure rose up before them and glared at them with angry eyes. She touched the dead woman with a wand, and she came back to life. 'I am the sorceress who once transformed the prince,' said the tall figure. I have noted your good heart and taken you under my protection. These miserable ones killed you. Now I leave their fate in your hands!' Nettchen begged for mercy for them, but the sorceress shook her head and said, 'They must die, for you will never be safe from their malice, and as soon as they have been punished, my power will cease.' 'Then do with them what you will!' sobbed Nettchen. 'Let them be transformed into columns and remain such until a man falls in love with them, and that will never happen.' She touched the sisters with her hand, and they were immediately transformed into two stone columns, which to this day are still standing in the garden of the splendid castle, for it has not yet occurred to any man that he should fall in love with cold, heartless stones. The good Little Broomstick remained Nettchen's most faithful girlfriend. She still shares her good fortune with her, if in the meantime the two of them have not died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,Rose,Irish-American,"Newell's source: 'Obtained in Cambridge, Mass., from the recitation of Mary Brown, who heard it in New Brunswick from a woman of Irish extraction, born in the province.'","W. W. Newell, 'English Folk-Tales in America Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 2, no. 6 (July - September, 1889), pp. 213-14.","Once it was necessary for him to go on a long journey. He asked each of his daughters what he should bring them for a present. The elder daughters wanted silk dresses, jewelry, and all that was rare. Little Rose stood by, not saying a word. Her father asked: 'Little Rose, what can I bring for you?' 'Nothing, father, but a rose.' And she kissed her father, and bade him good-by. 'Rose, I shall bring you a rose, the very prettiest I can get, if it should cost me my life.' After he got to his journey's end, he came to a splendid palace. The house was empty, but all in order. His breakfast was ready, but he could see no one. He stayed all night, in the morning went into the garden, and oh, the beautiful rose! After he plucked the rose, and had gone a few steps, a great lion met him, frothing at the mouth, and told him, 'For this rose you shall die.' The father said that he had a very beautiful daughter at home, whose name was Rose, and that, as he was leaving, he promised to bring her a rose; and he pleaded, 'If you will only let me go home to my little daughter to bid her farewell.' So the lion let him go home, on condition that he was to return. And as he came home Rose was looking out of the window and saw her father coming, and ran to meet him. 'Why,' said she, 'father, what makes you look so sad?' 'Nothing, my child, except that I have plucked a rose, and for this rose I must die.' 'No, father, you shall not go back and die for the rose, but I will go back and ask to have you pardoned.' So she went to the palace. As she entered it seemed to her that everything which her eyes fell on seemed to say, 'Welcome, Beauty, here!' Even on her cup and saucer, and on every piece of furniture in her chamber were the words, 'Welcome, Beauty, here!' She went out to find the lion, and said that she had come to ask him to forgive her father, and that the rose was for her. But the lion said he would not do it unless she would promise to be his wife. Her father was very dear to her, yet she did not like to marry a lion. The lion gave her a beautiful gold ring, and told her that whenever she wanted to see her father she was to lay the ring on her table before going to sleep, and wish to see her father, and she would be at home in the morning. Her father was now getting old, and she grieved for him. At night she laid her ring on the table, at the same time making a wish that she would like to see her father. The next morning she found herself with her father, whom she found much changed. His hair had turned white from grief at the thought of losing his Rose, or having her marry the lion. That night she laid her ring on the table, and wished herself back at the palace. The palace was more beautiful than before, and the table all ready. On every plate were the words, 'Welcome, Beauty, here!' On the first morning she went out into the garden. The poor lion was lying very sick, and she looked at him. 'Oh, I cannot bear to see my poor lion die; what am I to do?' Finally, she said that she could not bear it any longer, and she called out, 'I will be your wife.' With this a beautiful young prince stood before her. So they were married, and he sent for her father, and the stepsisters who had been so cruel to her were made servants to stand at the post of the gate before the palace, and all the people were happy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Bear Prince,Switzerland,NA,"Otto Sutermeister, 'Der Bärenprinz,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz (Aarau: H. R. Sauerländer, 1873), no. 37, pp. 112-15.","A merchant once wanted to go to market. He asked his three daughters what he should bring home for them. The oldest one said, 'I would like pearls and precious stones.' 'You can buy a sky-blue dress for me,' said the middle one. But the youngest one said, 'Nothing in the world would be dearer to me than a grape.' Once at the market, the merchant saw as many pearls and precious stones as he could possibly want. And he soon purchased a sky-blue dress as well. But as for a grape, he could not find one anywhere at the market. This saddened him greatly, because he loved his youngest daughter most of all. Buried thus in his thoughts, he was making his way toward home when a little dwarf stepped before him. He asked, 'Why are you so sad?' 'Oh,' answered the merchant, 'I was supposed to bring home a grape for my youngest daughter, but I was not able to find one anywhere at the market.' The dwarf said, 'Just take a few steps into that meadow down there, and you will come to a large vineyard. A white bear will be there. He will growl fiercely when you approach, but don't let that frighten you. You'll get a grape after all.' So the merchant went down into the meadow, and it happened just as the dwarf had said. A white bear was keeping guard at the vineyard, and he growled at the merchant when he was still a long way off. 'What do you want here?' 'Be so good,' said the merchant, 'and let me take a grape for my youngest daughter, just a single one.' 'You cannot have one,' said the bear, 'unless you promise to give me that which will first greet you upon your arrival home.' The merchant did not think long about this before accepting the bear's terms. Then he was permitted to take a grape, and he happily made his way toward home. Upon his arrival home, the youngest daughter ran out to meet him, for she -- more than anyone else -- had missed him, and she could hardly wait to see him. Seeing the grape in his hand, she threw her arms around his neck and could scarcely contain herself for joy. But the father was overcome with sorrow, and he could not tell anyone why. Every day he expected the white bear to come and demand from him his dearest child. When exactly one year had passed since he taken the grape from the vineyard, the bear did indeed trot up, confronted the merchant, and said, 'Now give me that which first greeted you upon your arrival home, or I'll eat you.' The merchant had not lost all of his senses, and he said, 'Take my dog. He jumped right out the door when he saw me coming.' But the bear began to growl loudly and said, 'He is not the right one. If you don't keep your promise, I'll eat you.' Then the merchant said, 'So just take the apple tree in front of the house. That was the first thing that I met.' But the bear growled even stronger and said, 'That is not the right one. If you don't keep your promise immediately, I'll eat you.' Nothing more would help. The merchant had to surrender his youngest daughter. When she came out, a coach drove up. The bear led her inside, sat down next to her, and away they went. After a while the coach stopped in the courtyard of a castle, and the bear led the daughter into the castle and welcomed her. This was his home, he said, and from now on she would be his wife. He gave her everything that her heart could desire, so that with time it no longer occurred to her that her husband was a bear. There were just two things that seemed strange to her: Why did the bear insist on having no lights at nighttime, and why did he always feel so cold? After she had been with him for some time he asked her, 'Do you know how long you have been here?' 'No,' she said, 'I haven't been thinking about time at all.' 'All the better,' said the bear. 'It's been exactly one year. Get ready for a journey, for we must visit your father once again.' She did so with great joy, and after arriving at her father's she told him all about her life in the castle. Afterward, when she was taking leave from him, he secretly gave her some matches that the bear was not supposed to see. But the bear did see them, and he growled angrily, 'Stop that, or I'll eat you.' Then he took his wife back to the castle, and they lived there together as before. Some time later the bear said, 'Do you know how long you have been here?' 'No,' she said, 'I don't notice the time.' 'All the better,' said the bear. 'You have been here exactly two years. Get ready for a journey. It is time for us to visit your father once again.' She did it once again, and everything happened as the first time. But when she visited her father the third time, the bear failed to see that her father secretly gave her some matches. After arriving back at the castle, she could hardly wait for night to come when the bear was sleeping next to her in bed. Silently she struck a light and was startled with amazement and joy, for next to her was lying a handsome youth with a golden crown on his head. He smiled at her and said, 'Many thanks for redeeming me. You were the wife of an enchanted prince. Now we can celebrate our wedding properly, for now I am the king of this land.' With that the entire castle came alive. Servants and attendants came from all sides, wishing good luck to the king and the queen. und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz (Aarau: H. R. Sauerländer, 1873), no.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Clinking Clanking Lowesleaf,Germany,NA,"Carl and Theodor Colshorn, 'Vom klinkesklanken Lowesblatt,' Märchen und Sagen aus Hannover (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Ruempler, 1854), no. 20, pp. 64-69.","Once upon a time there was a king who had three daughters. The youngest was his pride and joy. One day he wanted to go to the fair to buy something, and he asked his three daughters what he should bring home for them. The first one asked for a golden spinning wheel. The second one a golden yarn reel, and the third one a clinking clanking lowesleaf. The king promised to bring these things and rode away. At the fair he bought the golden spinning wheel and the golden yarn reel, but no one had a clinking clanking lowesleaf for sale. He looked everywhere, but could not find one. This saddened him, because the youngest daughter was the joy of his life, and he wanted to please her ever so much. As he sorrowfully made his way homeward, he came to a great, great forest and to a large birch tree. Under the birch tree there lay a large black poodle dog. Because the king looked so sad, the dog asked him what was the matter. 'Oh,' answered the king, 'I was supposed to bring a clinking clanking lowesleaf to my youngest daughter, whom I love above anything else, but I cannot find one anywhere, and that is why I am so sad.' 'I can help you,' said the poodle. 'The clinking clanking lowesleaf grows in this tree. If a year and a day from now you will give me that which first greets you upon your arrival home today, then you can have it.' At first the king did not want to agree, but he thought about it long and hard, then said to himself, 'What could it be but our dog? Go ahead and make the promise.' And he made the promise. The poodle wagged his tail, climbed up into the birch, broke off the leaf with his frizzy-haired paw, and gave it to the king, saying, 'You had better keep your word, or you will wish that you had!' The king repeated his promise, took the leaf, and rode on joyfully. As he approached home, his youngest daughter jumped out with joy to greet him. The king was horrified. His heart was so filled with grief that he pushed her aside. She started to cry, thinking, 'What does this mean, that father is pushing me away?' and she went inside and complained to her mother. Soon the king came in. He gave the oldest girl the golden spinning wheel, the middle one the golden yarn reel, and the youngest one the clinking clanking lowesleaf, and he was quiet and sad. Then the queen asked him was wrong with him, and why he had pushed the youngest daughter away; but he said nothing. He grieved the entire year. He lamented and mourned and became thin and pale, so concerned was he. Whenever the queen asked him what was wrong, he only shook his head or walked away. Finally, when the year was nearly at its end, he could not longer keep still, and he told her about his misfortune, and thought that his wife would die of shock. She too was horrified, but she soon took hold of herself and said, 'You men don't think of anything! After all, don't we have the goose herder's daughter? Let's dress her up and give her to the poodle. A stupid poodle will never know the difference.' The day arrived, and they dressed up the goose girl in their youngest daughter's clothes until she looked just perfect. They had scarcely finished when they heard a bark outside, and a scratching sound at the gate. They looked out, and sure enough, it was the large black poodle dog. They wondered who had taught him to count. After all, a year has more than three hundred days, and even a human can lose count, to say nothing of a dog! But he had not lost count. He had come to take away the princess. The king and queen greeted him in a friendly manner, then led him outside to the goose girl. He wagged his tail and pawed at her, then he lay down on his belly and said, Sit upon my tail, And I'll take you away! She sat down on him, and he took off across the heath. Soon they came to a great, great forest. When they came to the large birch tree, the poodle stopped to rest a while, for it was a hot day, and it was cool and shady here. Around and about there were many daisies [called Gänseblümchen -- goose flowers -- in German] poking up their white heads from the beautiful grass, and the girl thought about her parents, and sighed, 'Oh, if only my father were here. He could graze the geese so nicely here in this beautiful, lush meadow.' The poodle stood up, shook himself, and said, 'Just what kind of a girl are you?' 'I am a goose girl, and my father tends geese,' she answered. She would have liked to say what the queen had told her to say, but it was impossible for anyone to tell a lie under this tree. She could not, and she could not. He jumped up abruptly, looked at her threateningly, and said, 'You are not the right one. I have no use for you:' They were not far from the king's house, when the queen saw them and realized which way the wind was blowing. Therefore she took the broom binder's daughter, dressed her up in even more beautiful clothes. When the poodle arrived and made nasty threats, she brought the broom girl out to him, saying, 'This is the right girl!' 'We shall see,' responded the poodle dog. The queen became very uneasy, and the king's throat tightened, but the poodle wagged his tail and scratched, then lay down on his belly, saying, The broom girl sat down on him, and he took off across the heath. Soon they too came to the great forest and to the large birch tree. As they sat there resting, the girl thought about her parents, and sighed, 'Oh, if only my father were here. He could make brooms so easily, for here there are masses of thin twigs!' She wanted to lie, for the queen had ordered her to, and she was a very strict mistress, but she could not, because she was under this tree, and she answered, 'I am a broom girl, and my father makes brooms.' He jumped up as though he were mad, looked at her threateningly, and said, 'You are not the right one. I have no use for you:' They approached the king's house, and the king and queen, who had been steadily looking out the window, began to moan and cry, especially the king, for the youngest daughter was the apple of his eye. The court officials cried and sobbed as well, and there was nothing but mourning everywhere. But it was to no avail. The poodle arrived and said, 'This time give me the right girl, or you will wish that you had!' He spoke with such a frightful voice and made such angry gestures, that everyone's heart stood still, and their skin shuddered. Then they led out the youngest daughter, dressed in white, and as pale as snow. It was as though the moon had just come out from behind dark clouds. The poodle knew that she was the right one, and said with a caressing voice, He ran much more gently this time, and did not stop in the great forest under the birch tree, but hurried deeper and deeper into the woods until they finally reached a small house, where he quietly lay the princess, who had fallen asleep, onto a soft bed. She slumbered on and dreamed about her parents, and about the strange ride, and she laughed and cried in her sleep. The poodle lay down in his hut and kept watch over the little house and the princess. When she awoke the next morning and found herself soul alone, she cried and grieved and wanted to run away, but she could not, because the house was enchanted. It let people enter, but no one could leave. There was plenty there to eat and drink, everything that even a princess could desire, but she did not want anything and did not take a single bite. She could neither see nor hear the poodle, but the birds sang wonderfully. There were deer grazing around and about, and they looked at the princess with their large eyes. The morning wind curled her golden locks and poured fresh color over her face. The princess sighed and said, 'Oh, if only someone were here, even if it were the most miserable, dirty beggar woman. I would kiss her and hug her and love her and honor her!' 'Is that true?' screeched a harsh voice close behind her, startling the princess. She looked around, and there stood a bleary-eyed woman as old as the hills. She glared at the princess and said, 'You called for a beggar woman, and a beggar woman is here! In the future do not despise beggar women. Now listen well! The poodle dog is an enchanted prince, this hut an enchanted castle, the forest an enchanted city, and all the animals enchanted people. If you are a genuine princess and are also kind to poor people, then you can redeem them all and become rich and happy. The poodle goes away every morning, because he has to, and every evening he returns home, because he wants to. At midnight he pulls off his rough hide and becomes an ordinary man. If he knocks on your bedroom door, do not let him in, however much he asks and begs, not the first night, not the second night, and especially not the third night. During the third night, after he has tired himself out talking and has fallen asleep, take the hide, make a large fire, and burn it. But first lock your bedroom door securely, so that he cannot get in, and do not open it when he scratches on the door, if you cherish your life. And on your wedding day say three times, don't forget it now, say three times: Old tongues, Old lungs! and I will see you again.' The princess took very careful notice of everything, and the old woman disappeared. The first night the prince asked and begged her to open her door, but she answered, 'No, I'll not do it,' and she did not do it. The second night he asked her even more sweetly, but she did not answer at all. She buried her head in her pillow, and she did not open the door. The third night he asked her so touchingly and sang such beautiful melodies to her, that she wanted to jump up and open the door for him, but fortunately she remembered the old woman and her mother and father. She pulled the bedcovers over her head, and did not open the door. Complaining, the prince walked away, but she did not hear him leave. While he slept she built up the fire, crept out on tiptoe, picked up the rough hide from the corner where the poodle always put it, barred the bedroom door, and threw it into the flames. The poodle jumped up howling, gnawed and clawed at the door, threatened, begged, growled, and howled again. But she did not open the door, and he could not open the door, however fiercely he threw himself against it. The fire flamed up brightly one last time, and there was an enormous bang, as if heaven and hell had exploded. Standing before her was the most handsome prince in the world. The hut was now a magnificent castle, the forest a great city full of palaces, and the animals were all kinds of people. At their wedding ceremony, the prince and the princess were seated at the table with the old king and the old queen and the two sisters and many rich and important people, when the bride called out three times, and the tattered old woman came in. The old queen scolded, and the two princesses scolded, and they wanted to chase her away, but the young queen stood up and let the old woman sit down at her place, eat from her plate, and drink from her goblet. When the old woman had eaten and drunk her fill, she looked at the old queen and the evil daughters, and they became crooked and lame. But she blessed the young queen, and she became seven times more beautiful, and no one ever saw or heard from the old woman again. klinkesklanken Lowesblatt,' Märchen und Sagen aus Hannover (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Ruempler, 1854), no. 20, pp. 64-69.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Enchanted Tsarévich,Russia,Magnus' source is the great collection of Alexander Afanasyev (1826-1871).,"Leonard A. Magnus, Russian Folk-Tales (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 283-86.","Once upon a time there was a merchant who had three daughters. It so happened he had one day to go to strange countries to buy wares, and so he asked his daughters, 'What shall I bring you from beyond the seas?' The eldest asked for a new coat, and the next one also asked for a new coat; but the youngest one only took a sheet of paper and sketched a flower on it. 'Bring me, bátyushka [father], a flower like this!' So the merchant went and made a long journey to foreign kingdoms, but he could never see such a flower. So he came back home, and he saw on his way a splendid lofty palace with watchtowers, turrets, and a garden. He went a walk in the garden, and you cannot imagine how many trees he saw and flowers, every flower fairer than the other flowers. And then he looked and he saw a single one like the one which his daughter had sketched. 'Oh,' he said, 'I will tear off and bring this to my beloved daughter; evidently there is nobody here to watch me.' So he ran up and broke it off, and as soon as he had done it, in that very instant a boisterous wind arose and thunder thundered, and a fearful monster stood in front of him, a formless, winged snake with three heads. 'How dared you play the master in my garden!' cried the snake to the merchant. 'Why have you broken off a blossom?' The merchant was frightened, fell on his knees and besought pardon. 'Very well,' said the snake, 'I will forgive you, but on condition that whoever meets you first, when you reach home, you must give me for all eternity; and, if you deceive me, do not forget, nobody can ever hide himself from me. I shall find you wherever you are.' The merchant agreed to the condition and came back home. And the youngest daughter saw him from the window and ran out to meet him. Then the merchant hung his head, looked at his beloved daughter, and began to shed bitter tears. 'What is the matter with you? Why are you weeping, bátyushka?' He gave her the blossom and told what had befallen him. 'Do not grieve, bátyushka ,' said the youngest daughter. 'It is God's gift. Perhaps I shall fare well. Take me to the snake.' So the father took her away, set her in the palace, bade farewell, and set out home. Then the fair maiden, the daughter of the merchant, went in the different rooms, and beheld everywhere gold and velvet; but no one was there to be seen, not a single human soul. Time went by and went by, and the fair damsel became hungry and thought, 'Oh, if I could only have something to eat!' But before ever she had thought, in front of her stood a table, and on the table were dishes and drinks and refreshments. The only thing that was not there was birds' milk. Then she sat down to the table, drank and ate, got up, and it had all vanished. Darkness now came on, and the merchant's daughter went into the bedroom, wishing to lie down and sleep. Then a boisterous wind rustled round and the three- headed snake appeared in front of her. 'Hail, fair maiden! Put my bed outside this door!' So the fair maiden put the bed outside the door and herself lay on the bedstead. She awoke in the morning, and again in the entire house there was not a single soul to be seen. And it all went well with her. Whatever she wished for appeared on the spot. In the evening the snake flew to her and ordered, 'Now, fair maiden, put my bed next to your bedstead.' She then laid it next to her bedstead, and the night went by, and the maiden awoke, and again there was never a soul in the palace. And for the third time the snake came in the evening and said, 'Now, fair maiden, I am going to lie with you in the bedstead.' The merchant's daughter was fearfully afraid of lying on a single bed with such a formless monster. But she could not help herself, so she strengthened her heart and lay down with him. In the morning the serpent said to her, 'If you are now weary, fair maiden, go to your father and your sisters. Spend a day with them, and in the evening come back to me. But see to it that you are not late. If you are one single minute late I shall die of grief.' 'No, I shall not be late,' said the maiden, the merchant's daughter, and descended the steps; there was a barouche ready for her, and she sat down. That very instant she arrived at her father's courtyard. Then the father saw, welcomed, kissed her, and asked her, 'How has God been dealing with you, my beloved daughter ? Has it been well with you?' 'Very well, father!' And she started telling of all the wealth there was in the palace, how the snake loved her, how whatever she only thought of was in that instant fulfilled. The sisters heard, and did not know what to do out of sheer envy. Now the day was ebbing away, and the fair maiden made ready to go back, and was bidding farewell to her father and her sisters, saying, 'This is the time I must go back. I was bidden keep to my term.' But the envious sisters rubbed onions on their eyes and made as though they were weeping: 'Do not go away, sister; stay until tomorrow.' She was very sorry for her sisters, and stayed one day more. In the morning she bade farewell to them all and went to the palace. When she arrived it was as empty as before. She went into the garden, and she saw the serpent lying dead in the pond! He had thrown himself for sheer grief into the water. 'Oh, my God, what have I done!' cried out the fair maiden, and she wept bitter tears, ran. up to the pond, hauled the snake out of the water, embraced one head and kissed it with all her might. And the snake trembled, and in a minute turned into a good youth. 'I thank you, fair maiden,' he said. 'You have saved me from the greatest misfortune. I am no snake, but an enchanted prince.' Then they went back to the merchant's house, were betrothed, lived long, and lived for good and happy things. Folk-Tales (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 283-86. (1826-1871).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Fairy Serpent,China Additional tales about animal brides and bridegrooms,"Fielde's source: 'These tales have been heard or overheard by the writer, as they were told in the Swatow vernacular, by persons who could not read.'","Adele M. Fielde, Chinese Nights Entertainment (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1893), pp. 45-41.","Once there was a man who had three daughters, of whom he was devotedly fond. They were skilful in embroidery; and he used every day on his way home from work to gather some flowers for them to use as patterns. One day when he found no flowers along his route homeward he went into the woods to look for wild blossoms, and he unwittingly invaded the domain of a fairy serpent, that coiled around him, held him tightly, and railed at him for having entered his garden. The man excused himself, saying that he came merely to get a few flowers for his daughters, who would be sorely disappointed were he to go home without his usual gift to them. The snake asked him the number, the names, and the ages of his daughters, and then refused to let him go unless he promised one of them in marriage to him. The poor man tried every argument he could think of to induce the snake to release him upon easier terms, but the reptile would accept no other ransom. At last the father, dreading greater evil to his daughters should they be deprived of his protection, gave the required promise and went home. He could eat no supper, however, for he knew the power of fairies to afflict those who offend them, and he was full of anxiety concerning the misfortunes that must overwhelm his whole family should the compact be disregarded. Some days passed; his daughters carefully prepared his meals, and affectionately besought him to eat them, but he would not come to the table. He was always plunged in sorrowful meditation. They conferred among themselves as to the cause of his uncommon behavior, and, having decided that one of them must have displeased him, they agreed to try to find out which one it might be, by going separately, each in turn, to urge him to eat. The eldest went, expressed her distress at his loss of appetite, and urged him to partake of food. He replied that he would do so if she would for his sake marry the snake to whom he had promised a wife. She bluntly refused to carry out her father's contract, and left him in deeper trouble than before. The second daughter then went to beg him to take food, received the same reply, and likewise declined meeting the engagement he had made. The youngest daughter then went and entreated him to eat, heard his story, and at once declared that, if he would care for his own health properly, she would become the bride of the serpent. The father therefore took his meals again, the days sped without bringing calamity, and the welfare of the family for a time seemed secure. But one morning, as the girls were sitting at their embroidery, a wasp flew into the room and sang: 'Buzz! I buzz and come the faster; Who will wed the snake, my master? Whenever the wasp alighted the girls prodded him with their needles, and followed him up so closely that he had to flee for his life. The next morning two wasps came, singing the same refrain; the third morning three wasps came; and the number of wasps increased day by day, until the girls could no longer put them to rout, nor endure their stings. Then the youngest said that, in order to relieve the family of the buzzing plague, she would go to her uncanny bridegroom. The wasps accompanied her on the road, and guided her into the woods where the fairy serpent awaited her in a palace that he had built for her reception. There were spacious rooms with carved furniture inlaid with precious stones, chests full of silken fabrics, caskets of jade, and jewels of gold. The snake had beautiful eyes and a musical voice; but his skin was warty, and the girl shuddered at the thought of daily seeing him about. After the wedding supper, at which the two sat alone, the girl told her spouse that she appreciated the excellence of all that he had provided for her, and that she should perform all her domestic duties exactly. For many days she kept the house neat, cooked the food, and made all things pleasant for her repulsive bridegroom. He doted upon her, and pined whenever she was out of his sight. So heedful was he of her wishes and her welfare, that she grew to like his companionship, and to feel a great lonesomeness whenever he was absent. Having no help in her household work, she was, one day, on finding the well dried up, obliged to go into the forest in search of water, which she finally discovered and toilsomely brought back from a distant spring. On returning she found the snake dying of thirst, and in her eagerness to save his life she grasped and plunged him into the water, from which he rose transformed, a strong and handsome man. He had been the subject of wicked enchantment, from which her dutiful quest and gracious pity set him free. Thereafter she often with her admirable husband visited her old home and carried gifts to those who were less happy than she.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Little Nut Twig,Germany,"Ludwig Bechstein (1801-1860) was Germany's most widely read collector and editor of folktales during the nineteenth century, his popularity within Germany at that time surpassing that of his more scholarly contemporaries, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.","Ludwig Bechstein, 'Das Nusszweiglein,' Deutsches Märchenbuch, 5th edition (Leipzig: Verlag von Georg Wigand, 1847), pp. 81-85.","Once upon a time there was a rich merchant whose business required him to travel abroad. Taking leave, he said to his three daughters, 'Dear daughters, I would like to have something nice for you when I return. What should I bring home for you?' The oldest one said, 'Father dear, a beautiful pearl necklace for me!' The second one said, 'I would like a finger ring with a diamond stone.' The youngest one cuddled up to her father and whispered, 'Daddy, a pretty green nut twig for me.' 'Good, my dear daughters,' said the merchant, 'I will remember. Farewell.' The merchant traveled far and purchased many goods, but he also faithfully remembered his daughters' wishes. To please his eldest he had packed a costly pearl necklace into his baggage, and he had also purchased an equally valuable diamond ring for the middle daughter. But, however much he tried, he could not find a green nut twig. For this reason he went on foot a good distance on his homeward journey. His way led him in large part through the woods, and he hoped thus finally to find a nut twig. However, he did not succeed, and the good father became very depressed that he had not been able to fulfill the harmless request of his youngest and dearest child. Finally, as he was sadly making his way down a path that led through a dark forest and next to a dense thicket, his hat rubbed against a twig, and it made a sound like hailstones falling on it. Looking up he saw that it was a pretty green nut twig, from which was hanging a cluster of golden nuts. The man was delighted. He reached his hand up and plucked the magnificent twig. But in that same instant, a wild bear shot out from the thicket and stood up on his back paws, growling fiercely, as though he were about to tear the merchant to pieces. With a terrible voice he bellowed, 'Why did you pick my nut twig, you? Why? I will eat you up!' Shaking and trembling with fear the merchant said, 'Dear bear, don't eat me. Let me go on my way with the little nut twig. I'll give you a large ham and many sausages for it!' But the bear bellowed again, 'Keep your ham and your sausages! I will not eat you, only if you will promise to give me the first thing that meets you upon your arrival home.' The merchant gladly agreed to this, for he recalled how his poodle usually ran out to greet him, and he would gladly sacrifice the poodle in order to save his own life. Following a crude handshake the bear lumbered back into the thicket. The merchant, breathing a sigh of relief, went hurriedly and happily on his way. The golden nut twig decorated the merchant's had splendidly as he hurried homeward. Filled with joy, the youngest girl ran to greet her dear father. The poodle followed her with bold leaps. The oldest daughters and the mother were not quite so fast to step out the door and greet home-comer. The merchant was horrified to see that the first one to greet him was his youngest daughter. Concerned and saddened, he withdrew from the happy child's embrace, and -- following the initial greetings -- told them all that had happened with the nut twig. They all cried and were very sad, but the youngest daughter showed the most courage, and she resolved to fulfill her father's promise. The mother soon thought up a good plan. She said, 'Dear ones, let's not be afraid. If the bear should come to hold you to your promise, dear husband, instead of giving him our youngest daughter, let's give him the herdsman's daughter. He will be satisfied with her.' This proposal was accepted. The daughters were happy once again, and they were very pleased with their beautiful presents. The youngest one always kept her nut twig with her, and she soon forgot the bear and her father's promise. But one day a dark carriage rattled through the street and up to the front of the merchant's house. The ugly bear climbed out and walked into the house growling. He went up to the startled man and asked that his promise be fulfilled. Quickly and secretly they fetched the herdsman's daughter, who was very ugly, dressed her in good clothes, and put her in the bear's carriage. The journey began. Once outside the town, the bear laid his wild shaggy head in the shepherd girl's lap and growled, The girl began to do so, but she did not do it the way the bear wanted her to, and he realized that he had been deceived. He was about to eat the disguised shepherd girl, but in her fright she quickly fled from the carriage. Then the bear rode back to the merchant's house and, with terrible threats, demanded the right bride. So the dear maiden had to come forward, and -- following a bitterly sorrowful farewell -- she rode away with the ugly bridegroom. Once outside the town, he laid his coarse head in the girl's lap and growled again, And the girl did just that, and she did it so softly that it pacified him, and his terrible bearish expression became friendly. Gradually the bear's poor bride began to gain some trust toward him. The journey did not last long, for the carriage traveled extremely fast, like a windstorm through the air. They soon came to a very dark forest, and the carriage suddenly stopped in front of a dark and yawning cave. This was where the bear lived. Oh, how the girl trembled! The bear embraced her with his claw-arms and said to her with a friendly growl, 'This is where you will live, my little bride; and you will be happy, as long as you behave yourself here, otherwise my wild animals will tear you apart.' As soon as they had gone a few steps inside the dark cave, he unlocked an iron door and stepped with his bride into a room that was filled with poisonous worms. They hissed at them rapaciously. The bear growled into his little bride's ear, Then the girl did indeed walk through the room without looking around, and all the while not a single worm stirred or moved. And in this manner they went through ten more rooms, and the last one was filled with the most terrible creatures: dragons and snakes, toads swollen with poison, basilisks and lindorms. And in each room the bear growled, The girl trembled and quaked with fear, like the leaves of an aspen, but she remained steadfast and did not look around, neither right nor left. When the door to the twelfth room opened up, a glistening stream of light shone toward the two of them. The most beautiful music sounded from within, and everywhere there were cries of joy. Before the bride could comprehend this -- she was still trembling from seeing such horrible things, and now this surprising loveliness -- there was a terrible clap of thunder, and she thought that earth and heaven were breaking apart. It was soon quiet once again. The forest, the cave, the poisonous animals, and the bear had all disappeared. In their place stood a splendid castle with rooms decorated in gold and with beautifully dressed servants. And the bear had been transformed into a handsome young man. He was the prince of this magnificent castle, and he pressed his little bride to his heart, thanking her a thousand times that she had redeemed him and his servants -- the wild animals -- from their enchantment. She was now a high and wealthy princess, but she always wore the beautiful nut twig on her breast. It never wilted, and she especially liked to wear it, because it had been the key to her good fortune. Her parents and sisters were soon informed of this happy turn of events. The bear prince had them brought to the castle, where they lived in splendid happiness forever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Singing Rose,Austria,NA,"Source: Ignaz and Joseph Zingerle, 'Die singende Rose,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Buchhandlung, 1852), no. 30, pp. 183-88.","A king had three daughters. They were more beautiful than the young women of today, and each had passed her sixteenth year of life. The king thought about making one of his daughters queen, but he did not know which one he should select over the other two. One day he summoned all three and said to them, 'My dear children, I am now old and frail, and every day is a gift. Before I die, I would like to bring everything in my realm into order and name one of you as the heir to my kingdom. Now go out into the wide world, and the one of you who brings back a singing rose shall inherit my throne, and she shall be queen over the entire land.' When the three daughters had heard this, they tearfully took leave of their old father, then -- trusting their luck -- set forth for foreign lands, each taking a different path. It happened that the youngest and most beautiful of them had to go through a dark pine forest. All kinds of birds were singing at the same time. It was wonderful to listen to them. It began to get dark, the birds flew to their nests, and after a while it became quiet as a mouse. Then suddenly a bright, beautiful, loud tone sounded forth, such as the princess had never heard before, neither from birds nor from humans, and she immediately thought, 'That can only be the singing rose.' She hurried on in the direction that the marvelous sounds seemed to be coming from. She had not walked long before she saw a large, old-fashioned castle on a cliff. She eagerly climbed up to the castle and pulled several times on the latch. Finally the gate opened with a creaking sound, and an old man with a long, ice-gray beard looked out. 'What is your wish?' he grumpily asked the startled maiden. 'I would like a singing rose,' she answered. 'Do you have such a thing in your garden?' 'Yes indeed,' answered the old man. 'What will you take for it, if I could get it from you?' 'You need give me nothing for the singing rose. You can have it today, but as payment, I will come to you in seven years and bring you back with me to this, my castle.' 'Just bring me quickly the valuable flower,' shouted the maiden joyfully, for she was thinking only about the singing rose and the kingdom, but not about what would happen after seven years. The old man went back into the castle, and returned soon with a full, glowing rose. It was singing so beautifully that the maiden's heart jumped for joy. She eagerly reached out her hand for it, and as soon as she had the flower in her hands she ran down the mountain like a deer. The old man called after her with a serious voice, 'I will see you in seven years!' The maiden wandered the entire night through the dark woods with her rose. Her pleasure in the singing flower and the inherited kingdom caused her to forget all fear. The rose sang without pause the entire way; and the louder and more beautifully it sang, the faster the princess hurried on toward her homeland. She arrived home and told her father everything that had happened to her, and the rose sang beautifully. Immeasurable joy ruled in the castle, and the king gave one celebration after the other. Soon the two older sisters returned. They had found nothing, and had had to return home empty handed. And now the youngest daughter, who had brought back the rose, became queen, although the old father continued to rule. The royal family lived beautiful, joyful days. Day after day and year after year slipped by. Finally the seventh year came to an end, and on the first day of the eighth year the old man from the castle appeared before the king and demanded from him the one of his daughter who had brought home the singing rose. The king presented to him his oldest daughter, but the old man rejected her, shaking his head and growling, 'She is not the right one.' When the king saw that he could not get away with deception, he -- with a bleeding heart -- turned over the youngest and dearest of his children. The princess now had to go with the grumbling graybeard to his castle, from which she had once obtained the singing rose. The beautiful maiden was very sad, for she had no one there except for her old master. Day after day she sorrowfully thought about her father and her sisters. In the castle there were other pleasures in abundance, but they did not comfort her, for she did not have the company of her loved ones. Her thoughts were always in her homeland. Further, all the doors and chests in the castle were locked, and the old man did not let her have access to a single key. One day she learned -- God knows from where! -- that her oldest sister was to marry a neighboring prince, and that the wedding would take place in a few days. Disquieted, she went to the old man and asked him for permission to attend her sister's wedding. 'Just go!' growled the old man. 'But I am telling you in advance, do not laugh once during the entire wedding day. If you disobey my order, I will tear you into a thousand pieces. I myself will continually be by your side, and if you as much as open your mouth to laugh, it will be over with you. Take notice!' The princess thought that this would be easy to follow, and on the announced day she appeared with the old graybeard at her sister's wedding. Joy ruled in the king's castle when they saw the long missing queen returning. She was very happy and took advantage of the day, but she did not forget the old man's order, and she did not once open her mouth to laugh. That evening she had to take leave from her loved ones, and she sadly returned to the lonely castle with her companion. Her time of monotony began once again, and the poor princess was always glad when a day finally ended. Then the rumor came to her ears that the other sister would marry soon. This disquieted her again, and she asked the old man if she could not attend her second sister's wedding. 'Just go!' growled the old man.' But this time you are not allowed to speak a single word the entire day. I will go with you again and observe you vigilantly. The princess thought that this would be easy to follow, and on the announced day she appeared with the old graybeard at her sister's wedding. Joy ruled in the king's castle when they saw the long missing queen returning. Everyone ran out to meet her. They greeted her and welcomed her and asked her about everything. But she pretended that she could not talk, and did not allow a single sound to escape from her beautiful lips. But this time she did not keep up her courage as well as she had the last time, and that evening when everyone was talking together until it was humming like a beehive, a little word slipped out. The old man quickly jumped up, took her by the hand, and led her out of the hall and back to his lonely castle. Here the princess had other things in great abundance, but she greatly missed the company of her loved ones, and everything seemed terribly monotonous to her. One day when she was sadly walking through the garden where the rose had previously blossomed and sung, the old man came to her and said with a serious expression, 'Your majesty, if tomorrow while it is striking twelve you will cut off my head in three blows, then everything that you find in the castle will be yours, and you will be free forever!' The princess took heart from the old man's speech and decided to attempt the risky deed. The next day -- it was Saturday -- the old man appeared a little before twelve o'clock and uncovered his neck. She drew the sword that she had hung about her waist, and as the castle clock struck one she swung the sword once, then quickly again two more times. The old man's head rolled away on the floor. But behold! Instead of blood, a key fell from the head. It opened all the chests and doors in the entire castle. There the princess found many, many precious things, and she was rich and free forever.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Small-Tooth Dog,England,NA,"Sidney Oldall Addy, Household Tales and Other Traditional Remains: Collected in the Counties of York, Lincoln, Derby, and Nottingham (London: David Nutt; Sheffield: Pawson and Brailsford, 1895), no. 1, pp. 1-4.","Once upon a time there was a merchant who traveled about the world a great deal. On one of his journeys thieves attacked him, and they would have taken both his life and his money if a large dog had not come to his rescue and driven the thieves away. When the dog had driven the thieves away he took the merchant to his house, which was a very handsome one, and dressed his wounds and nursed him till he was well. As soon as he was able to travel the merchant began his journey home, but before starting he told the dog how grateful he was for his kindness, and asked him what reward he could offer in return, and he said he would not refuse to give the most precious thing he had. And so the merchant said to the dog, 'Will you accept a fish I have that can speak twelve languages?' 'No,' said the dog, 'I will not.' 'Or a goose that lays golden eggs?' 'No,' said the dog, 'I will not.' 'Or a mirror in which you can see what anybody is thinking about?' 'No,' said the dog, 'I will not.' 'Then what will you have?' said the merchant. 'I will have none of such presents,' said the dog; 'but let me fetch your daughter, and bring her to my house.' When the merchant heard this he was grieved, but what he had promised had to be done, so he said to the dog, 'You can come and fetch my daughter after I have been home for a week.' So at the end of the week, the dog came to the merchant's house to fetch his daughter, but when he got there he stayed outside the door, and would not go in. But the merchant's daughter did as her father told her, and came out of the house dressed for a journey and ready to go with the dog. When the dog saw her he looked pleased, and said, 'Jump on my back, and I will take you away to my house.' So she mounted on the dog's back, and away they went at a great pace, until they reached the dog's house, which was many miles off. But after she had been a month at the dog's house she began to mope and cry. 'What are you crying for?' said the dog. 'Because I want to go back to my father,' she said. The dog said, 'If you will promise me that you will not stay there more than three days I will take you there. But first of all,' said he, 'what do you call me?' 'A great, foul, small-tooth dog,' said she. 'Then,' said he, 'I will not let you go.' But she cried so pitifully that he promised again to take her home. 'But before we start,' he said, 'tell me what you call me.' 'Oh,' she said, 'your name is Sweet-as-a-Honeycomb.' 'Jump on my back,' said he, 'and I'll take you home.' So he trotted away with her on his back for forty miles, when they came to a stile. 'And what do you call me?' said he, before they got over the stile. Thinking she was safe on her way, the girl said, 'A great, foul, small-tooth dog.' But when she said this, he did not jump over the stile, but turned right round again at once, and galloped back to his own house with the girl on his back. Another week went by, and again the girl wept so bitterly that the dog promised to take her to her father's house. So the girl got on the dog's back again, and they reached the first stile, as before, and the dog stopped and said, 'And what do you call me?' 'Sweet-as-a-Honeycomb,' she replied. So the dog leaped over the stile, and they went on for twenty miles until they came to another stile. 'And what do you call me?' said the dog with a wag of his tail. She was thinking more of her father and her own house than of the dog, so she answered, 'A great, foul, small-tooth dog.' Then the dog was in a great rage, and he turned right round about, and galloped back to his own house as before. After she had cried for another week, the dog promised again to take her back to her father's house. So she mounted upon his back once more, and when they got to the first stile, the dog said, 'And what do you call me?' 'Sweet-as-a-Honeycomb,' she said. So the dog jumped over the stile, and away they went -- for now the girl made up her mind to say the most loving things she could think of -- until they reached her father's house. When they got to the door of the merchant's house, the dog said, 'And what do you call me?' Just at that moment the girl forgot the loving things she meant to say and began, 'A great --,' but the dog began to turn, and she got fast hold of the door latch, and was going to say 'foul,' when she saw how grieved the dog looked and remembered how good and patient he had been with her, so she said, 'Sweeter-than-a-Honeycomb.' When she had said this she thought the dog would have been content and have galloped away, but instead of that he suddenly stood upon his hind legs, and with his forelegs he pulled off his dog's head and tossed it high in the air. His hairy coat dropped off, and there stood the handsomest young man in the world, with the finest and smallest teeth you ever saw. Of course they were married, and lived together happily.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Snake-Prince,Greece,NA,"Lucy M. J. Garnett, Greek Wonder Tales (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1913), , no. 11, pp. 180-88.","Scarlet thread, spun on the wheel, Twisting on the twirling reel, Like the dancers turn and spin, While I now my tale begin! Once upon a time there was a merchant, and he traded 'all the way to Bagdad,' as the saying is. He had twelve ships which sailed to foreign countries, and he had besides three pretty daughters. Well, as time went on, luck turned against the merchant. His wife died; one by one he lost his ships; and every year he became poorer and poorer. At last he had lost all his property with the exception of one farm, and he went to live there with his daughters. As they had now no money to hire laborers, the merchant told the girls that they must set to and work on the farm in order that they might gain a living. 'We cannot do farm work,' replied the two eldest, tossing their heads. 'We are not accustomed to it.' But the youngest, whose name was Rosa, loved her father very dearly; and she at once prepared to do as he wished. So she set to with a will, and digged in the garden, and raked, and planted; and when the fruits and vegetables were grown, she rose early in the morning to gather them for her father to carry to market. Time passed, and after many months tidings came to the merchant that three of his belated ships had come into port laden with costly goods, when he immediately prepared to go to the city. But before mounting his horse, he asked his daughters what each desired as a present. The two eldest begged for fine silken gowns; but when he asked the youngest, she said, 'I want nothing, papa mine, now that I see you released from your poverty.' And when her father pressed her, she said, 'Well, then, papa mine, bring me a rose, a beautiful, sweet-smelling damask rose.' So the merchant set off for the port, and landed his goods. In twelve days' time he had sold them all save the two silken gowns which he had kept for his daughters; but he had found no rose for the youngest. As he was riding home to his farm, it began to rain so heavily that when they came to the open gateway of a house by the wayside, his horse trotted through it into the courtyard. There was no one about, so he put the horse in the stable, and went up to the house. The door stood wide open, so he walked in and sate himself down on a seat in the hall. At once he found by his side coffee and sweetmeats, and a long pipe filled with fragrant tobacco, without his seeing who had brought them. Presently the rain ceased, and the merchant arose and went from chamber to chamber to seek the host and thank him for the shelter and entertainment. Finding no one, however, he was going forth to take his beast from the stable and continue his journey, when, as he crossed the courtyard, he caught sight of a bush of damask roses which had three blossoms on one stem. No sooner, however, had he stretched out his hand and plucked them than there appeared at his feet a snake, who said, 'Ah, thankless man! After I have opened my doors to save thee from the storm, canst not see a rose or two without desiring and plucking them?' 'I sought through the chambers to find the host and say a 'Thank you' to him, but found him not,' the merchant replied. 'Listen to me,' then said the snake. 'Thou hast three daughters, and thou must bring me the youngest. Think not to thyself that I am only a snake, and cannot come and find thee if thou dost not my bidding.' The poor man asked how many days' grace he would give him; and he granted him forty days. At last he got home to his house; his daughters gathered round him; and when the two eldest had got their gowns he gave the roses to the youngest, and then sat down weeping. 'What is the matter, papa mine, that you weep?' she asked, anxiously. Then, as the merchant related his adventure, Rosa's sisters began to reproach her, and point their fingers at her, saying, 'Wretched girl that thou art! A gown was not good enough for thee, but thou must have a damask rose, forsooth, that the snake might come and destroy us!' When her father had also told them of the forty days' grace, Rosa went to her chamber and wrote down the date; and she did not seem at all troubled, though her sisters were continually reproaching her. On the thirty-eighth day she went to her father and said, 'Papa mine, saddle now the horse so that we may go where I am invited.' 'Can I take thee, my darling child, to the snake who will destroy thee?' cried the unhappy man. 'The snake will not destroy me, if I do his bidding,' replied Rosa. 'What ill-will can he have against me? Arise, and let us be gone.' She bade farewell to her sisters; she and her father set out on their journey, and on the fortieth day they arrived at the snake's abode. The gate was open, as before, and when the merchant had stabled his horse he led his daughter into the house, and they sate them down. Soon came coffee and sweets, as before, without anyone being seen; and in a little while the snake appeared and said to the merchant, 'So thou hast done my bidding and brought thy daughter?' 'Yea, I have brought her, as I promised,' he replied; and when he had kissed and embraced his daughter, he mounted his horse and rode home again. But in a few days he fell ill with grief and took to his bed. So the poor girl was left alone with the snake. And it became the snake's custom, every day when she was taking her coffee after dinner, to climb into her lap and ask her, 'Wilt thou take me for thy husband?' And she would reply, 'But I am afraid of thee.' And she was very sad and lonely because her father did not come to see her as he had promised. Well, one day, as she was sitting at the table, it suddenly opened before her and disclosed a mirror in which all the world was reflected; and, when she saw in it her father lying ill in bed, she began to weep and tear her hair. The snake, who was in the garden, hearing her cries and her breast-beatings, hurried to her and asked, 'What ails thee, my Rose?' 'See in the mirror,' she cried, 'how my father lies nigh unto death!' Then said the snake, 'Open the table drawer and thou wilt find a ring. Put it on thy finger, and tell me how many days thou wilt be absent?' 'I will come back,' she replied, 'as soon as my father recovers.' 'Well, I will give thee thirty-one days' leave. If thou come one day later, thou wilt find me dead on some mound in the garden.' 'Do thyself no harm,' said the girl. 'When my leave has expired I will return to thee.' The snake ordered supper to be served, and when she had eaten, he said, 'Put the ring on thy tongue, and thou wilt find thyself at home in thy chamber.' Rosa lay down, put the ring on her tongue, and closed her eyes. Her father's servants, passing the door of her chamber, heard her breathing, and ran to tell their young mistresses, who hastened in and found her asleep on her bed. The maiden awoke, and when she found that she was indeed at home again she praised God. Her father was rejoiced to see his Rosa again, and asked her many questions about her life with the snake. When she told him what the snake had said to her every day at dinner time, and that she had replied, 'But I am afraid of thee,' he said to her, 'My daughter dear, the next time he asks thee that question, do thou answer, 'Yea, I will take thee!' and we shall see what will hap.' And she promised to say this. Her sisters, however, tried to persuade her not to go back, so that the snake might die and they would be rid of him. But Rosa was indignant, and replied, 'How could I leave my beast to die, who have received such help from him?' So she remained with her father, whose joy she was, for as many days as she had leave. Then, bidding him and her sisters farewell, she lay down on her bed, put the ring in her mouth, and went back to the snake. When he saw her, he said, 'Ah, thou hast come back to me, my Rose!' And after dinner, when coffee was served, and he lay in her lap as before and asked, 'Wilt thou take me for thy husband?' she replied, 'Yea, I will take thee!' When she had said these words the snake's skin fell off him, and he became a handsome prince. And the table again opened and all the world was seen therein. Then Rosa asked him what manner of man he was, and how he had become a snake. And he told her how that he had fallen under the spell of an enchantress who had changed him into a snake, and had doomed him to retain that shape until he should find a maiden who would consent to marry him. 'But now,' he said, 'I will return to my kingdom. Thy father and sisters shall be conveyed thither, and then we will hold our wedding.' So they were married, and the prince made his father-in-law his grand vizier. And we will leave them well, and return and find them better -- God be praised!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,The Summer and Winter Garden,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"'The Summer and Winter Garden' was replaced in the Grimms' collection by 'The Singing, Springing Lark,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1814), vol. 2, no. 2. Since 1819 'The Singing, Springing Lark' has carried the KHM number 88. Link to the Grimm brothers' The Singing, Springing Lark.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Von dem Sommer- und Wintergarten,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812), vol. 1, no. 68.","A merchant was planning to go to a fair, so he asked his three daughters what he should bring back for them. The oldest one said, 'A beautiful dress.' The second, 'A pair of pretty shoes.' The third, 'A rose.' To find a rose would be difficult, for it was the middle of winter, but because the youngest daughter was the most beautiful, and because she took great pleasure in flowers, the father said that he would do his best to find her one. The merchant was now on his homeward trip. He had a splendid dress for the oldest daughter, a pair of beautiful shoes for the second one, but he had not been able to get a rose for the third one. Whenever he had entered a garden looking for roses, the people just laughed at him, asking him if he believed that roses grew in the snow. He was very sad about this, and as he was thinking about what he might bring his dearest child, he came to a castle. It had an adjoining garden where it was half summer and half winter. On the one side the most beautiful flowers were blossoming -- large and small. On the other side everything was bare and covered with deep snow. The man climbed from his horse. He was overjoyed to see an entire hedge full of roses on the summer side. He approached it, picked one of them, and then rode off. He had already ridden some distance when he heard something running and panting behind him. Turning around, he saw a large black beast, that called out, 'Give me back my rose, or I'll kill you! Give me back my rose, or I'll kill you!' The man said, 'Please let me have the rose. I am supposed to bring one home for my daughter, the most beautiful daughter in the world.' 'For all I care, but then give me your beautiful daughter for a wife!' In order to get rid of the beast, the man said yes, thinking that he would not come to claim her. However, the beast shouted back to him, 'In eight days I will come and get my bride.' So the merchant brought each daughter what she had wanted, and each one was delighted, especially the youngest with her rose. Eight days later the three sisters were sitting together at the table when something came stepping heavily up the stairs to the door. 'Open up! Open up!' it shouted. They opened the door, and were terrified when a large black beast stepped inside. 'Because my bride did not come to me, and the time is up, I will fetch her myself.' With that he went to the youngest daughter and grabbed hold of her. She began to scream, but it did not help. She had to go away with him. And when the father came home, his dearest child had been taken away. The black beast carried the beautiful maiden to his castle where everything was beautiful and wonderful. Musicians were playing there, and below there was the garden, half summer and half winter, and the beast did everything to make her happy, fulfilling even her unspoken desires. They ate together, and she had to scoop up his food for him, for otherwise he would not have eaten. She was dear to the beast, and finally she grew very fond of him. One day she said to him, 'I am afraid, and don't know why. It seems to me that my father or one of my sisters is sick. Couldn't I see them just once?' So the beast led her to a mirror and said, 'Look inside.' She looked into the mirror, and it was as though she were at home. She saw her living room and her father. He really was sick, from a broken heart, because he held himself guilty that his dearest child had been taken away by a wild beast and surely had been eaten up. If he could know how well off she was, then he would not be so sad. She also saw her two sisters sitting on the bed and crying. Her heart was heavy because of all this, and she asked the beast to allow her to go home for a few days. The beast refused for a long time, but she grieved so much that he finally had pity on her and said, 'Go to your father, but promise me that you will be back here in eight days.' She promised, and as she was leaving, he called out again, 'Do not stay longer than eight days.' When she arrived home her father was overjoyed to see her once again, but sickness and grief had already eaten away at his heart so much that he could not regain his health, and within a few days he died. Because of her sadness, she could think of nothing else. Her father was buried, and she went to the funeral. The sisters cried together, and consoled one another, and when her thoughts finally turned to her dear beast, the eight days were long past. She became frightened, and it seemed to her that he too was sick. She set forth immediately and returned to his castle. When she arrived there everything was still and sad inside. The musicians were not playing. Black cloth hung everywhere. The garden was entirely in winter and covered with snow. She looked for the beast, but he was not there. She looked everywhere, but could not find him. Then she was doubly sad, and did not know how to console herself. She sadly went into the garden where she saw a pile of cabbage heads. They were old and rotten, and she pushed them aside. After turning over a few of them she saw her dear beast. He was lying beneath them and was dead. She quickly fetched some water and poured it over him without stopping. Then he jumped up and was instantly transformed into a handsome prince. They got married, and the musicians began to play again, and the summer side of the garden appeared in its splendor, and the black cloth was all ripped down, and together they lived happily ever after. dem Sommer- und Wintergarten,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812), vol. 1, no. 68.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
425C,Zelinda and the Monster,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 2, pp. 7-11.","There was once a poor man who had three daughters; and as the youngest was the fairest and most civil, and had the best disposition, her other two sisters envied her with a deadly envy, although her father, on the contrary, loved her dearly. It happened that in a neighboring town, in the month of January, there was a great fair, and that poor man was obliged to go there to lay in the provisions necessary for the support of his family; and before departing he asked his three daughters if they would like some small presents in proportion, you understand, to his means. Rosina wished a dress, Marietta asked him for a shawl, but Zelinda was satisfied with a handsome rose. The poor man set out on his journey early the next day, and when he arrived at the fair quickly bought what he needed, and afterward easily found Rosina's dress and Marietta's shawl; but at that season he could not find a rose for his Zelinda, although he took great pains in looking everywhere for one. However, anxious to please his dear Zelinda, he took the first road he came to, and after journeying a while arrived at a handsome garden enclosed by high walls; but as the gate was partly open he entered softly. He found the garden filled with every kind of flowers and plants, and in a corner was a tall rosebush full of beautiful rosebuds. Wherever he looked no living soul appeared from whom he might ask a rose as a gift or for money, so the poor man, without thinking, stretched out his hand, and picked a rose for his Zelinda. Mercy! Scarcely had he pulled the flower from the stalk when there arose a great noise, and flames darted from the earth, and all at once there appeared a terrible monster with the figure of a dragon, and hissed with all his might, and cried out, enraged at that poor Christian, 'Rash man! what have you done? Now you must die at once, for you have had the audacity to touch and destroy my rosebush.' The poor man, more than half dead with terror, began to weep and beg for mercy on his knees, asking pardon for the fault he had committed, and told why he had picked the rose; and then he added, 'Let me depart; I have a family, and if I am killed they will go to destruction' But the monster, more wicked than ever, responded, 'Listen; one must die. Either bring me the girl that asked for the rose or I will kill you this very moment.' It was impossible to move him by prayers or lamentations; the monster persisted in his decision, and did not let the poor man go until he had sworn to bring him there in the garden his daughter Zelinda. Imagine how downhearted that poor man returned home! He gave his oldest daughters their presents and Zelinda her rose; but his face was distorted and as white as though he had arisen from the dead; so that the girls, in terror, asked him what had happened and whether he had met with any misfortune. They were urgent, and at last the poor man, weeping bitterly, related the misfortunes of that unhappy journey and on what condition he had been able finally to return home. 'In short,' he exclaimed, 'either Zelinda or I must be eaten alive by the monster.' Then the two sisters emptied the vials of their wrath on Zelinda. 'Just see,' they said, 'that affected, capricious girl! She shall go to the monster! She who wanted roses at this season. No, indeed! Papa must stay with us. The stupid creature!' At all these taunts Zelinda, without growing angry, simply said, 'It is right that the one who has caused the misfortune should pay for it. I will go to the monster's. Yes, Papa, take me to the garden, and the Lord's will be done.' The next day Zelinda and her sorrowful father began their journey and at nightfall arrived at the garden gate. When they entered they saw as usual no one, but they beheld a lordly palace all lighted and the doors wide open. When the two travelers entered the vestibule, suddenly four marble statues, with lighted torches in their hands, descended from their pedestals, and accompanied them up the stairs to a large hall where a table was lavishly spread. The travelers, who were very hungry, sat down and began to eat without ceremony; and when they had finished, the same statues conducted them to two handsome chambers for the night. Zelinda and her father were so weary that they slept like dormice all night. At daybreak Zelinda and her father arose, and were served with everything for breakfast by invisible hands. Then they descended to the garden, and began to seek the monster. When they came to the rosebush he appeared in all his frightful ugliness. Zelinda, on seeing him, became pale with fear, and her limbs trembled, but the monster regarded her attentively with his great fiery eyes, and afterward said to the poor man, 'Very well; you have kept your word, and I am satisfied. Now depart and leave me alone here with the young girl.' At this command the old man thought he should die; and Zelinda, too, stood there half stupefied and her eyes full of tears; but entreaties were of no avail; the monster remained as obdurate as a stone, and the poor man was obliged to depart, leaving his dear Zelinda in the monster's power. When the monster was alone with Zelinda he began to caress her, and make loving speeches to her, and managed to appear quite civil. There was no danger of his forgetting her, and he saw that she wanted nothing, and every day, talking with her in the garden, he asked her, 'Do you love me, Zelinda? Will you be my wife?' The young girl always answered him in the same way, 'I like you, sir, but I will never be your wife.' Then the monster appeared very sorrowful, and redoubled his caresses and attentions, and, sighing deeply, said, 'But you see, Zelinda, if you should marry me wonderful things would happen. What they are I cannot tell you until you will be my wife.' Zelinda, although in her heart not dissatisfied with that beautiful place and with being treated like a queen, still did not feel at all like marrying the monster, because he was too ugly and looked like a beast, and always answered his requests in the same manner. One day, however, the monster called Zelinda in haste, and said, 'Listen, Zelinda; if you do not consent to marry me it is fated that your father must die. He is ill and near the end of his life, and you will not be able even to see him again. See whether I am telling you the truth.' And, drawing out an enchanted mirror, the monster showed Zelinda her father on his deathbed. At that spectacle Zelinda, in despair and half mad with grief, cried, 'Oh, save my father, for mercy's sake! Let me be able to embrace him once more before he dies. Yes, yes, I promise you I will be your faithful and constant wife, and that without delay. But save my father from death.' Scarcely had Zelinda uttered these words when suddenly the monster was transformed into a very handsome youth. Zelinda was astounded by this unexpected change, and the young man took her by the hand, and said, 'Know, dear Zelinda, that I am the son of the King of the Oranges. An old witch, touching me, changed me into the terrible monster I was, and condemned me to be hidden in this rosebush until a beautiful girl consented to become my wife.' Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 2, pp. 7-11.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
207C,"Of the Vicissitude of Everything Good, and Especially of a Right Justice (Gestaromanorum)",Gesta Romanorum Application,"The Gesta Romanorum (Deeds of the Romans) is a collection of tales compiled about 1300 and intended for the use of Christian preachers. Link to a retold version of this tale: Horace Elisha Scudder, 'The Bell of Justice,' The Book of Legends: Told Over Again (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1899), pp. 16-17.","Gesta Romanorum, translated from the Latin by Charles Swan, revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 105, pp. 182-83.","The Emperor Theodosius had the misfortune to lose his sight. He put up a bell in his palace; and the law was, that whoever had any suit to make should pull the string with his own hands. When the bell rang, a judge, appointed to this end, descended and administered justice. It chanced that a serpent made her nest immediately under the bell-rope, and in due time brought forth young. When they were old enough, one day she conducted them forth to enjoy the fresh air beyond the city. Now, while the serpent was absent, a toad entered and occupied her nest. When, therefore, the former returned with her young, she found the toad in possession, and instantly began an attack. But the latter baffled her attempts, and obstinately maintained his station. The serpent, perceiving her inability to eject the intruder, coiled her tail around the bell-rope, and forcibly rang the bell; as though she had said, 'Descend, judge, and give me justice; for the toad has wrongfully seized my nest.' The judge, hearing the bell, descended; but not seeing anyone, returned. The serpent, finding her design abortive, once more sounded the alarm. The judge again appeared, and upon this occasion, seeing the serpent attached to the bell-rope, and the toad in possession of her nest, declared the whole circumstance to the emperor. 'Go down, my lord,' said the latter, 'and not only drive away the toad, but kill him; let the serpent possess her right.' All which was done. On a subsequent day, as the king lay in his bed, the serpent entered the bedchamber carrying a precious stone in her mouth. The servants, perceiving this, informed the emperor, who gave directions that they should not harm it; 'for,' added he, 'it will do me no injury.' The serpent, gliding along, ascended the bed, and approaching the emperor's eyes, let the stone fall upon them, and immediately left the room. No sooner, however, had the stone touched the eyes than their sight was completely restored. Infinitely rejoiced at what had happened, the emperor made inquiry after the serpent, but it was not heard of again. He carefully treasured this invaluable stone, and ended his days in peace. My beloved, the emperor is any worldly-minded man who is blind to spiritual affairs. The bell is the tongue of a preacher; the cord is the Bible. The serpent is a wise confessor, who brings forth young -- that is, good works. But prelates and confessors are often timid and negligent, and follow earthly more than heavenly matters; and then the toad, which is the devil, occupies their place. The serpent carries a stone -- and the confessor the Sacred Writings, which alone are able to give sight to the blind.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
207C,The Bell of Atri (Longfellow),Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,'The Bell of Atri' is 'The Sicilian's Tale' from part two of Tales of a Wayside Inn. Part one of this book was first published in 1863 and part two in 1872. The book follows a storytelling tradition dating back most prominently to Chaucer and Boccaccio in which wayfarers entertain one another by telling tales. Link to additional folklore ballads by Longfellow.,"Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, [1915]), pp. 137-41.","At Atri in Abruzzo, a small town Of ancient Roman date, but scant renown, One of those little places that have run Half up the hill, beneath a blazing sun, And then sat down to rest, as if to say, 'I climb no farther upward, come what may,' -- The Re Giovanni, now unknown to fame, So many monarchs since have borne the name, Had a great bell hung in the market-place, Beneath a roof, projecting some small space By way of shelter from the sun and rain. Then rode he through the streets with all his train, And, with the blast of trumpets loud and long, Made proclamation, that whenever wrong Was done to any man, he should but ring The great bell in the square, and he, the King, Would cause the Syndic to decide thereon. Such was the proclamation of King John. How swift the happy days in Atri sped, What wrongs were righted, need not here be said. Suffice it that, as all things must decay, The hempen rope at length was worn away, Unraveled at the end, and, strand by strand, Loosened and wasted in the ringer's hand, Till one, who noted this in passing by, Mended the rope with braids of briony, So that the leaves and tendrils of the vine Hung like a votive garland at a shrine. By chance it happened that in Atri dwelt A knight, with spur on heel and sword in belt, Who loved to hunt the wild-boar in the woods, Who loved his falcons with their crimson hoods, Who loved his hounds and horses, and all sports And prodigalities of camps and courts; -- Loved, or had loved them; for at last, grown old, His only passion was the love of gold. He sold his horses, sold his hawks and hounds, Rented his vineyards and his garden-grounds Kept but one steed, his favorite steed of all, To starve and shiver in a naked stall, And day by day sat brooding in his chair, Devising plans how best to hoard and spare. At length he said: 'What is the use or need To keep at my own cost this lazy steed, Eating his head off in my stables here, When rents are low and provender is dear? Let him go feed upon the public ways; I want him only for the holidays.' So the old steed was turned into the heat; Of the long, lonely, silent, shadeless street; And wandered in suburban lanes forlorn, Barked at by dogs, and torn by brier and thorn. One afternoon, as in that sultry clime It is the custom in the summer time, With bolted doors and window-shutters closed, The inhabitants of Atri slept or dozed; When suddenly upon their senses fell The loud alarm of the accusing bell! The Syndic started from his deep repose, Turned on his couch, and listened, and then rose And donned his robes, and with reluctant pace Went panting forth into the market-place, Where the great bell upon its cross-beams swung, Reiterating with persistent tongue, In half-articulate jargon, the old song: 'Some one hath done a wrong, hath done a wrong!' But ere he reached the belfry's light arcade He saw, or thought he saw, beneath its shade, No shape of human form of woman born, But a poor steed dejected and forlorn, Who with uplifted head and eager eye Was tugging at the vines of briony. 'Domeneddio!' cried the Syndic straight, 'This is the Knight of Atri's steed of state! He calls for justice, being sore distressed, And pleads his cause as loudly as the best.' Meanwhile from street and land a noisy crowd Had rolled together like a summer cloud, And told the story of the wretched beast In five-and-twenty different ways at least, With much gesticulation and appeal To heathen gods, in their excessive zeal. The Knight was called and questioned; in reply Did not confess the fact, did not deny; Treated the matter as a pleasant jest, And set at naught the Syndic and the rest, Maintaining, in an angry undertone, That he should do what pleased him with his own. And thereupon the Syndic gravely read The proclamation of the King; then said: 'Pride goeth forth on horseback grand and gay, But cometh back on foot, and begs its way; Fame is the fragrance of heroic deeds, Of flowers of chivalry and not of weeds! These are familiar proverbs; but I fear They never yet have reached your knightly ear. What fair renown, what honor, what repute Can come to you from starving this poor brute? He who serves well and speaks not, merits more Than they who clamor loudest at the door. Therefore the law decrees that as this steed Served you in youth, henceforth you shall take heed To comfort his old age, and to provide Shelter in stall, and food and field beside.' The Knight withdrew abashed; the people all Led home the steed in triumph to his stall. The King heard and approved, and laughed in glee, And cried aloud: 'Right well it pleaseth me! Church-bells at best but ring us to the door; But go not in to mass; my bell doth more: It cometh into court and pleads the cause Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws; And this shall make, in every Christian clime, The Bell of Atri famous for all time.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
207C,The Dumb Plaintiff (Eckhardtsberg),Germany,NA,"H. A. Guerber Legends of the Rhine, 3rd ed. (New York: A. S. Barnes and Company, 1899), pp. 308-309.","The story of 'The Bell of Atri,' which Longfellow has so charmingly told in his Tales of a Wayside Inn, is said to have originated in Eckhardtsberg near Breisach. In early days, when the ruins now crowning the hill were part of a strong fortress, the lord of Eckhardtsberg, wishing to render justice to all men, placed a bell in his tower. He fastened to it a long piece of rope which hung outside the gate, within easy reach of every hand, and bade all those who wished redress to ring it loudly, promising to grant them an immediate hearing. One day the bell pealed loudly, and when in answer to its call the lord of Eckhardtsberg, followed by all his retainers, came out to hear the complaint, he was surprised to find a poor old horse, which, urged by hunger, was trying to chew the end of the hempen rope. One of the bystanders immediately recognized the horse as belonging to a neighboring knight. For many a year the horse had been his favorite steed, had borne him safely through many a fight, but now that it was old and useless the cruel master had turned it out to seek pasture along the highway, where it found but scant subsistence. The lord of Eckhardtsberg, seeing the animal's sorry plight, and hearing how faithfully it had served its master in the days of its youth, declared that in return for its former services it should now be treated with respect, and condemned the unfeeling, avaricious owner to give it a place in his stable and plenty of food as long as it lived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
207C,The Emperor Charlemagne and the Serpent (Zurich),Switzerland,"Guerber's probably source: Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Kaiser und die Schlange,' Deutsche Sagen, vol. 2 (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1818), no. 453, pp. 130-32. In later editions this legend is given the number 459.","H. A. Guerber Legends of Switzerland (New York: Dodd, Mean, and Company, 1905), pp. 248-52.","Zürich, the old Roman Turicum, on either side of the Limmat at the point where it flows out of the green-hued lake, is the capital of the canton of the same name, and noted alike for the beauty of its situation and for its famous university. In the days of the early Christian persecution, Felix and Regula, the patron saints of Zürich, were beheaded near this town. Strange to relate, though, immediately after the execution, both martyrs picked up their severed heads, tucked them under their arms, and stalked off to the spot where the minster now stands, where they wound up their marvelous performances by burying themselves comfortably! On the spot where they suffered martyrdom Charlemagne erected a memorial pillar, above which he hung a bell, saying that it could be rung by anyone who had been wronged, and that they should receive immediate justice. During one of his visits to Zürich, Charlemagne took up his abode in the Choristers' House, and while he sat there at table one day he suddenly heard a loud peal from the bell of justice. He immediately dispatched a servant to see what wrong had been done, and was greatly annoyed when the man reported that careful search had failed to reveal the presence of any living creature. A few moments later the bell rang again, but when the servant once more announced that no one was there, the emperor bade his guards hide near the pillar, and seize the miscreant who dared to pull the bell of justice in mere fun. Before long the bell sounded a third time, and a few moments later the guards rushed into the emperor's presence with faces blanched with fear, to report that a snake had coiled itself around the pillar, and seizing the rope in its teeth, tugged until the bell rang forth loud and clear. The emperor immediately rose from table, saying he must see this phenomenon with his own eyes, and followed by all his court went down to the pillar. As he drew near, the snake came forward to meet him, and rising upon its coiled tail, bowed low before the monarch in evident recognition of his exalted station. Then, dropping down to the earth once more, it crept away, turning from time to time, and making signs as if to invite the emperor to follow. The serpent's actions were so eloquent that Charlemagne, understanding them, obediently followed it down to the edge of the water, where, parting the reeds, the snake showed him its nest, in which sat an enormous toad. Charlemagne now bade his guards seize and kill the intruder, and when the snake had bowed its thanks and contentedly coiled itself around its eggs, he went back to his interrupted meal, loudly praising the bell by means of which even dumb animals could appeal for justice. The next day, while the emperor again sat at dinner, the guards rushed in breathlessly to announce the coming of the strange snake. Charlemagne quickly bade them stand aside and not try to hinder the reptile, which now crawled into the room where he sat, climbed upon the table, did obeisance to the emperor, and delicately lifting the cover of his drinking cup, dropped into it a jewel of fabulous price. Then, replacing the cover of the vessel, the snake bowed low again, and creeping down, left the cloister to return to its nest by the lake. According to one version of this legend, Charlemagne set this precious stone in a ring which he gave to his wife, Frastrada. Unknown to him, however, the stone had the magic power of fixing his affections upon its wearer. When the queen, therefore, thought she was about to die, she slipped the ring into her mouth to prevent its falling into the hands of some rival. For eighteen years Charlemagne refused to part with his wife's body, and carried it with him wherever he went. But at the end of that time his minister Turpin discovered the secret of his infatuation, and obtaining possession of the magic stone, soon saw all Charlemagne's affections fixed upon him. As the emperor's devotion proved somewhat of a bore to the old minister, he tried to get rid of the spell by casting the ring into the mineral springs at Aix-la-Chapelle. While out hunting the next day, Charlemagne urged his steed to drink of that water, and when the animal hastily withdrew its foot and refused to approach the pool again, the emperor dismounted to investigate the cause. Touching the imprint of the horse's hoof, Charlemagne discovered that the mud was very warm, for he was near the hottest of these thermal springs. While resting near that pool, he was seized with such an affection for the spot that he soon founded there his capital of Aix-la-Chapelle. In memory of the horse which guided him hither, the Cathedral was built in the shape of a horseshoe, and as Charlemagne could not endure the thought of ever leaving this enchanted neighborhood, he left orders to bury him in the minster of Aix-la-Chapelle. On the spot where Charlemagne's famous bell once hung, at Zurich, stands the Wasserkirche, which now contains a large library with valuable and interesting manuscripts. Charlemagne's great-grandson Louis II. often visited Zürich, where his two pious daughters induced him to build a convent and the Frauenmünster. It is said that the place for these buildings was staked out by angel hands, and that the stakes were connected by a silken string of the finest make. This rope was hung above the altar of the new church, where it remained until the Reformation. It was then removed with many other relics, and served for years as ordinary bell-rope in a private house. The king's daughters, who both became abbesses, long dwelt at Baldern Castle, whence, however, they went down to the Frauenmünster whenever the bell rang for prayers. They even attended the midnight services there, and when it was very dark a stately stag invariably walked before them carrying a flaming torch between its antlers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
150,Of Hearing Good Counsel,Gesta Romanorum,NA,"Gesta Romanorum, translated by Charles Swan (London: George Bell and Sons, 1877), no. 167, pp. 318-319.","An archer, catching a little bird called a nightingale, was about to put her to death. But, being gifted with language, she said to him, 'What will it advantage you to kill me? I cannot satisfy your appetite. Let me go, and I will give you three rules, from which you will derive great benefit, if you follow them accurately.' Astonished at hearing the bird speak, he promised her liberty on the conditions she had stated. 'Hear, then,' said she. 'Never attempt impossibilities. Secondly, do not lament an irrecoverable loss. Thirdly, do not credit things that are incredible. If you keep these three maxims with wisdom, they will infinitely profit you.' The man, faithful to his promise, let the bird escape. Winging her flight through the air, she commenced a most exquisite song, and, having finished, said to the archer, 'You are a silly fellow, and have today lost a great treasure. There is in my bowels a pearl bigger than the egg of an ostrich.' Full of vexation at her escape, he immediately spread his nets and endeavored to take her a second time, but she eluded his art. 'Come into my house, sweet bird,' said he, 'and I will show you every kindness. I will feed you with my own hands, and permit you to fly abroad at pleasure.' The nightingale answered, 'Now I am certain you are a fool, and pay no regard to the counsel I gave you: 'Regret not what is irrecoverable.' You cannot take me again, yet you have spread your snares for that purpose. Moreover, you believe that my bowels contain a pearl larger than the egg of an ostrich, when I myself am nothing near that size! You are a fool, and a fool you will always remain.' With this consolatory assurance she flew away. The man returned sorrowfully to his own house, but never again obtained a sight of the nightingale. Application: My beloved, the archer is any Christian. The nightingale is Christ, and man attempts to kill him as often as he sins. George Bell and Sons, 1877), no. 167, pp. 318-319. The Gesta Romanorum or 'Deeds of the Romans' is a collection of some 283 legends and fables. Created as a collection ca. 1330 in England, it served as a source of stories and plots for many of Europe's greatest writers. The anonymous collectors and editors, most likely monks, concluded each tale with a so-called 'application,' thus attempting to place each story within Christian moral context.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
150,The Three Proverbs,Poland,NA,"Otto Knoop, 'Die drei Sprüche,' Ostmärkische Sagen, Märchen und Erzählungen (Lissa: Oskar Eulitz' Verlag, 1909), no. 72, pp. 147-149.","A rich man was once walking about in his garden. He was cheerful and happy. Suddenly he noticed a small bird that had been captured in a small net. He took hold of it and was more than a little surprised when it began to speak, saying, 'Give me my freedom, dear man! Of what use is it to you to lock me in a cage? Looking at me will not please you, for I do not have beautiful feathers. I cannot entertain you, for I do not sing like other birds. And I cannot provide you with nourishment. I am much too small for that. But I will tell you three wise teachings if you will give my freedom.' The master of the garden looked at the little creature and said, 'If you do not sing then of course you cannot entertain me. Let me hear your wisdom, and if it teaches me anything, I will give you your freedom.' Then the little bird said, 'First: Do not grieve over things that have already happened. Second: Do not wish for that which is unattainable. Third: Do not believe in that which cannot be possible.' Then the master of the garden said, 'You have indeed taught me something. I will give you your freedom.' Letting the bird fly away, he thought seriously about its words. Then he heard it laughing quietly. Its voice came from a tree where the bird was sitting. 'Why are you laughing so cheerfully?' shouted the man. 'About my easily won freedom,' answered the bird, 'and more than that, about the foolishness of humans who believe they are smarter than all other creatures. If you had been smarter, only just as smart as I am, then you would now be the richest man.' 'How would that have been possible?' asked the master of the garden. The bird replied, 'If, instead of giving me my freedom, you had kept me, for in my body I have a diamond the size of a hen's egg.' The man stood there as though he were petrified. After recovering from the surprise, he began to speak, 'You think that you are happy because I gave you your freedom. But summer will soon be over and winter with its storms will arrive. The brooks will freeze over, and you will not be able to find a single drop of water to quench your thirst. The fields will be covered with snow, and you will not find anything to eat. But I will give you a warm place where you can freely fly around, and you can have as much water and bread as you want. Come down, and I will show you that you are better off with me than with your freedom.' Thus spoke the master of the garden, but the little bird laughed louder than before, making the man even angrier. 'You are still laughing?' asked the man. 'Of course,' replied the bird. 'See, you gave me my freedom on account of the teachings that I gave you, and now you are so foolish that you do not take the teachings to heart. I earned my freedom fairly, but you forgot my teachings after only a few minutes. You should not grieve over things that have already happened, but still you are grieving that you gave me my freedom. You should not wish for things that you cannot obtain, and yet you want me, for whom freedom is my whole life, to voluntarily enter a prison. You should not believe that which is impossible, and yet you believe that I am carrying about inside my body a diamond as large as a hen's egg, although I myself am only half the size of a hen's egg.' And with that the bird flew away. Sagen, Märchen und Erzählungen (Lissa: Oskar Eulitz' Verlag, 1909), no. 72, pp. 147-149.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Emperor's Daughter and the Swineherd,Slavic,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Friedrich S. Krauss, Sagen und Märchern der Südslaven: Zum großen Teil aus ungedruckten Quellen, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich, 1884), no. 131, pp. 302-306. Source (Internet Archive): Friedrich S. Krauss, Sagen und Märchern der Südslaven: Zum großen Teil aus ungedruckten Quellen, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich, 1884), no. 131, pp. 302-306.","Once upon a time there was an emperor who had a daughter with three birthmarks on her body: on her forehead one shaped like a star, on her bosom one shaped like the sun, and on her knee one shaped like the moon. When she reached the age of marriage she said to her father that she would marry only the man who could guess what her birthmarks were, be he the poorest man in the world, even a beggar. If he could guess her birthmarks, she would marry him. This proclamation was made to the whole world, and many emperors and kings sought her hand, but none could guess what the birthmarks were. One day she was walking with her maidens-in-waiting when they met a poor lad who was tending a sow with three suckling piglets. Seeing the cute piglets, she stepped aside from the other maidens and approached the swineherd, who was standing near the sow, and asked him, 'Would you give me one of the sow's piglets?' 'Yes, and as payment you will only have to loosen your veil so I can see your face.' Suspecting nothing, the emperor's daughter uncovered her face, and the swineherd saw the birthmark on her forehead. He then caught a piglet and handed it to her. She returned home happily, accompanied by the other maidens. When in the evening the swineherd drove the sow with two piglets home, his father accosted him with curse words: 'Where is the other piglet? Damn you!' Not wanting to admit what had happened, he said that he had taken a nap and that the piglet had disappeared while he was asleep. Meanwhile the emperor's daughter showed the piglet that she had won to her father and mother, and it was so cute that they both fell in love with it immediately. They told their daughter that it would be good if she could get another one, to which she answered that the swineherd had two more. Thus the next day she again went out with her maidens-in-waiting, found the swineherd, and asked for another piglet. The lad agreed, on the condition that she would let him see her bosom. She immediately undid her bodice, and after he had seen the birthmark on her breast he gave her the second piglet. The delighted princess hurried home with the piglet, and the swineherd returned to his home with the sow and only one piglet. His father scolded him even more severely than before. On the third day the princess went out once again and asked the swineherd for the third piglet. He promised it to her if she would uncover her legs and let him see her knees. This she did, and after seeing the birthmark he gave her the third piglet. Then she returned to her home, and he to his; and his parents scolded him all the more severely. Some time later the lad asked his mother to bake a flatbread, roast a chicken, fill a bottle with wine, and prepare a bunch of basil for him. She did this, then put it all into a knapsack. He threw the knapsack over his shoulders and went on his way, saying to his mother as he left, 'Mother, I'm going to the emperor's daughter to guess her birthmarks. Perhaps I'll be lucky, and with God's help will guess them.' His mother replied, 'Oh, my child, we will never be so lucky!' To which he said, 'I have hope, if God is willing.' Thus he made his way to the emperor's court, where a Turk had arrived, also wanting to guess the princess's birthmarks. Both were taken before the princess, and the Turk said to the swineherd, 'My friend, you speak first. I already know what I am going to say.' With this the lad began: 'Maiden, do you have a star on your forehead?' These words had barely escaped his lips when the Turk said, 'My goodness, we have the same thoughts!' The maiden took off her veil and said to the lad, 'You guessed right. Continue. What kind of birthmark do I have on my breast?' The youth answered: 'A sun.' And the Turk interrupted, 'So help me, I was about to say the same thing.' The maiden uncovered her breast and said to the youth, 'You were right on that one as well. Now tell me, what do I have on my knee?' The youth: 'A moon.' The Turk: 'By my holy faith, what will we do now? I knew that as well.' Thus there was confusion as to who should get the maiden. She, of course preferred the Turk, who was a handsome, well-dressed young man, whereas the swineherd was standing there in tattered clothes. Finally it was decided that the two of them should spend the night with the maiden. Whoever she was facing the next morning would be the winner. That evening they all went to bed, and the maiden turned to face the Turk. Then the swineherd got up and went outside. The princess said to the Turk, 'Follow him, and whatever he does, you should do as well.' Once outside, the swineherd squatted down in the dark, took the flatbread, the roasted chicken, and the wine out of his knapsack, then began to eat and drink. In the darkness, the Turk thought that he saw the swineherd doing that which even the emperor has to get out his saddle to do, so he too squatted down and strained until he had relieved himself. Meanwhile the Turk noticed that the swineherd was eating something, and thinking that he was eating his own dung, the Turk began to eat what he himself had just left on the ground. After eating all he wanted, the swineherd rubbed the basil over his face. Thinking that the swineherd was rubbing filth on his face, the Turk did the same thing with rest of his own dung. With this the two of them returned to the princess: one at her one side, the other at her other side. Once again the maiden turned to face the Turk, but unable to stand the stink of the dung, she immediately turned toward the swineherd, who smelled like basil. When they looked in on her in the morning she was still facing him. The swineherd remained at court as the emperor's son-in-law. He sent for his father and mother, and they all lived there happily until they died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Enchanted Lambs,Russia,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Louise Seymour Houghton The Russian Grandmother's Wonder Tales (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1913), pp. 253-59. Source (Internet Archive): Louise Seymour Houghton The Russian Grandmother's Wonder Tales (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1906), pp. 253-59.","An emperor once had an only daughter of surpassing beauty. In his pride he caused it to be sounded abroad through all the world that the youth who should guess the position of a certain mole on the maiden's person should have her for his wife, and the half of his empire besides. But those who did not guess right should be transformed into lambs. This wonderful news spread over the whole world, so that wooers by thousands came from all lands to sue for the princess's hand. But all in vain. A countless number of them were changed into lambs. The news came also to the ears of a youth who was as poor as a church mouse, but who was as sharp as a needle for all that. His desire to possess the beautiful maiden and half the empire grew so strong that he decided to try his fortune; not, however, by suing at once for the maiden's hand, but by seeing her first and asking her something. Arrived at the emperor's court, what wonders does he see! Lambs of all kinds pressed around him. God only knows how many there were. They swarmed about him, a pitiful sight and a warning example that might well turn him from his project. He would have gone back, but at the gate was a monster of a man, wrapped in a blood-red mantle, with wings, and an eye in the middle of his forehead, who cried out in a commanding voice, 'Halt! Where are you going? Go back, or you are lost!' So he went back and caused himself to be announced to the emperor's daughter, who was already waiting for him. She said to him, 'Did you come to get me for your wife?' He answered, 'No, Imperial Highness; but as I understood that you were thinking of marrying at the first favorable opportunity, I come to ask you if you need more bridal clothes.' 'What kind of clothes have you to offer?' she asked. He answered, 'I have a skirt of marble, a bodice of dew, a head-dress of threads made from the sun's rays, with a clasp of the moon and stars; then I have shoes of pure gold which were neither sewed nor made by a smith. So, tell me, do you wish to buy these things or not? You have but to command, and I will bring them to you, but only on one condition. When you try these things on, piece by piece, there shall be no one present but only us two. If they fit we shall soon come to terms; if not, I will never offer them to another soul, but will lay them aside and keep them for my own bride.' The princess agreed to this condition and gave him the order to bring the garments. And, really, he brought them to her. God only knows where he found them and how he came to possess them; it is enough for us to know that he kept his word. They shut themselves up in a room, and first she tried on the skirt, while he watched narrowly to see if by chance he could discover the mole. To his joy he saw it under her right knee -- a little golden star; but not the slightest change in his face betrayed his discovery. He only thought in his heart, 'It is well for me today and for all time!' Then the princess tried on the bodice and all the other things, and they fitted her as if she had been poured into them. They agreed as to the price; she paid it on the spot; he packed up his gold and departed. After a few days, having dressed himself in the finest suit that could be bought for money, he came back to sue for the hand of the emperor's daughter. When he appeared before the emperor he said, 'Worthy emperor, I come to woo your daughter. Make no objections; give her to me!' 'Good!' answered the emperor; 'but do you know how my daughter's hand is won? Take good care, for if you do not guess the mole you are lost; but if you do guess it she will be yours, and the half of my empire into the bargain.' The youth bowed to the emperor and said, 'My greetings, O emperor and father-in-law! If that is the case she is mine. She has a little star under the right knee.' The emperor was not a little surprised that he could know this, but there was nothing for it but to yield, and so the youth was married to the princess. When the emperor proceeded to give him the half of his empire the new-made son-in-law said to him, 'I willingly leave this half of your empire to you if you are ready to restore these poor souls to their former condition.' The emperor answered that this was no longer in his power, but lay in the hands of his daughter, 'who now,' he added, is your wife.' So he turned to his wife with this request, and she answered: 'Cut the vein under the famous mole. Let every lamb touch the end of its tongue to the blood and moisten its underlip with it, and they will all be changed to men and live as before.' He did as she directed, and when the lambs had all assumed the forms of men again they were invited as wedding guests. Thus the youth took the maiden home amid song and chime of bells, and there he treated everybody royally to meat and drink, until finally they took their homeward way. But he stayed there with his young wife, and God knows what fortunes they met with in life that are all forgotten now. 'I am sorry you have forgotten anything, grandmother,' said the little boy. 'It is not dark yet, and I wanted a longer story.' 'It is not I who forgot,' answered the grandmother. 'I remember every word as it was told to me.' 'It must have been your great-grandmother,' observed the little boy. ' I wish she had had a better memory.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Nobleman's Daughter and the Shepherd,Germany,The hare-herding episode is classified as a type 570 folktale.,"Source (books.google.com): Robert Eisel, 'Die Edelmannstochter und der Schafknecht,' Sagenbuch des Voigtlandes (Gera: Verlag von C. B. Griesbach, 1871), no. 561, pp. 215-16. Source (Internet Archive): Robert Eisel, 'Die Edelmannstochter und der Schafknecht,' Sagenbuch des Voigtlandes (Gera: Verlag von C. B. Griesbach, 1871), no. 561, pp. 215-16.","In a village between Eisenberg and Naumburg there lived a nobleman's daughter. Nothing pleased her. One day she saw two dancing sows that a shepherd had obtained from a little gray man. To get one of these pigs -- for the dancing sows finally made her happy -- she had shown the shepherd her birthmark, namely a golden hair on her right breast. Now she declared that she would marry whatever man could guess her birthmark, then herd three hundred hares, and finally say something true that no one else knew about. Our shepherd already knew about her birthmark, so he volunteered to herd the three hundred hares. They were counted out to him, but he had scarcely gone into the open with them when they all scampered away from him. However, the little gray man gave him a flute, and when he blew into it every last one of the hares came running back to him. Now first the nobleman's daughter, then her mother, and finally her father -- all in disguise -- came to the shepherd to beg a hare from him. And each got one for a very high price, but when the shepherd blew into his flute the hares broke loose and ran back to him. Thus only the third task remained. The suitors were all invited to a gathering, but none of them, however noble they all were, was able to tell an unknown truth. Finally the shepherd rose from his seat in the back of the hall and began to relate what price he had received for the sale of the hares. This was all terribly embarrassing for the noble maiden and her parents, so they finally declared the shepherd the winner, and he married the nobleman's daughter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Pearl Queen,"Germany, Ludwig Bechstein","Bechstein's source, as stated in the above editions: 'Oral, from Franken.' Walter Scherf gives Wilhelmine Mylius as Bechstein's immediate source. -- Ludwig Bechstein, Sämtliche Märchen (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1983), p. 837.","Source (books.google.com): Ludwig Bechstein, 'Die Perlenkönigin Deutsches Märchenbuch (Leipzig: Georg Wigand's Verlag, 1846), pp. 202-205. Source (Internet Archive): Ludwig Bechstein, 'Die Perlenkönigin Deutsches Märchenbuch (Leipzig: Verlag von Georg Wigand, 1847), pp. 194-97.","At certain times every year an unearthly beautiful maiden was seen on the seashore not far from a peaceful village inhabited mostly by fishing people. She came in a beautiful little ship which appeared to have been constructed from pure brightly colored pearls. No one knew where she came from or where she went when she disappeared. The good fishing people were very fond of her, especially the children, because at every visit she would scatter a quantity of pearls onto the bank, and then motion to them that they should gather them up. The little ones busied themselves gathering up the pearls, delighted at their glistening colors. Then the fishing people -- men and women -- brought the pearl queen a something to eat: fish, bread, and good wine. The lovely maiden was friendly toward them all, ate a few bites and drank a little wine. When the beautiful stranger was expected to come ashore, princes and noblemen from foreign lands would often arrive, hoping to see the beautiful maiden, and perhaps to gain her hand in marriage, for it was said far and wide that she possessed earthly wealth equal to her physical beauty. However, they all left disappointed. The noble maiden demanded from each suitor that he fulfill three tasks that she gave him. Until now these tasks had been too difficult. No one had been able to fulfill them, so all the noble suitors had had to depart saddened and ashamed. The maiden's first task was to guess what color her hair was, for she always kept her head fully covered with a thick shawl. No one had guessed correctly, although they had named all the colors: black, red, blond, brown, white, green, gray, and blue. The second task was to put the maiden's necklace around one's own neck. If the glistening peals then turned cloudy it was an evil sign, causing the maiden to weep. Her tears turned to bright pearls and affixed themselves to the necklace. When she put the necklace back around her own neck the pearls again glistened brilliantly and marvelously. The third task was to guess what the maiden wore next to her breast. No one was able to guess. Thus no one gained the maiden's favor, nor her hand in marriage, even if he were the wealthiest prince. She remained a mystery. All attempts failed to discover more about her and her homeland. When her little ship of pearls left shore it quickly disappeared from sight. However, at certain times she appeared again, was as friendly and lovely as before, and scattered pearls on the bank. A little boy was there whom she favored more than all the other children. She would take him into her arms and squeeze him warmly. The boy loved the beautiful, gracious lady as well. However, when he grew older he became shy and bashful, no longer daring to gather the pearls. In any event, he was mostly at sea fishing with his father. The maiden had gone ashore several times without seeing her dear fisher-boy. This saddened her, for in her heart she had chosen this handsome youth, hoping that one day he would be able to solve the three tasks, and then follow her to the beautiful Isle of Pearls, her homeland. When she again came ashore without seeing her beloved fisher-lad, after casting off from land she resolved to return that same evening and to invisibly approach him. After the golden moon had risen, mirroring itself in the water, the little ship of pearls landed again on the familiar shore. Her beloved was now sound asleep in his little hut. The lovely maiden stepped into his little room and bent silently over the sleeping lad, who had only moss for a mattress. She took off her necklace and hung it around the lad's neck. When the pearls remained as bright and clear as before, great joy streamed through her loving heart! She gently kissed her beloved and left. She returned every evening, each time hanging the pearls around the lad's neck, and they always remained bright and glistening. The lad was also in love with the beautiful pearl queen, but was too shy and modest to openly approach her. One night while she was at the youth's bedside he awoke, but remained still, so she thought that he was asleep. Again she took the string of pearls from her neck, hung it around his neck, then wept warm tears onto his cheeks. Taking the shawl from her head, she used it to wipe away the tears. The youth saw that her hair was golden. Then she pulled aside her breast-cloth, and he saw a glistening mirror on her breast that softly and beautifully reflected his own image. Upon leaving she became sad, for she knew that if the string of pearls became cloudy even a single time on her beloved's neck, that she would never again be able to approach him. The time came when the beautiful pearl queen again came ashore near the fishing village. In her customary manner she scattered pearls for the happy children. This time many princes and noblemen had arrived in order to court the wealthy and beautiful princess. The fisher-lad was there as well, standing at the rear. He gathered courage and approached the suitors. His turn came at last, after all the others had failed and shamefully stepped aside. He modestly advanced and asked for the three tasks. Glowing with pleasure the maiden gave them to him, then cast a secret and pleading glance toward heaven, praying that her beloved youth would be able to solve them. The handsome fisher-lad bowed respectfully before the lovely maiden and said: 'Oh, your hair must be golden.' In that instant the shawl fell from her head, and her golden locks flowed down. Then the happy maiden hung the string of pearls around the youth's neck, and they remained pure and glistening. The fisher-lad spoke again: 'And your breast must be a clear, beautiful mirror, noble maiden!' And that instant her breast-cloth fell to the ground, revealing the clear mirror on the maiden's breast. The mirror reflected a beautiful, gentle image: that of the youth. A jubilant cheer and joyful music sounded forth from the ship of pearls, and a circle of beautiful women and radiant men came forth from the ship. They led the blessed couple back aboard, and the ship glided away to the magical Isle of Pearls, now the homeland of the lovely bride and the fisher lad. And they never, never returned.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Pig-Boy and the Princess,"Germany, Wilhelm Busch",NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Wilhelm Busch, 'Der Schweinejunge und die Prinzessin,' Ut ôler Welt: Volksmärchen, Sagen, Volkslieder und Reime (Munich: Lothar Joachim Verlag, 1910), no. 39, pp. 104-106. Source (books.google.com): Wilhelm Busch, 'Der Schweinejunge und die Prinzessin,' Aus alter Zeit: Volksmärchen und Sagen, (Hamburg: mach-mir-ein-ebook.de, 2014), not paginated.","Once there was a pig-boy who bought a flute and three colorful little piglets to amuse himself. With time and energy he taught the piglets to stand on two legs and dance very nicely to the tune of the flute. They could dance the gallop, waltzes, and -- in short -- all the popular dances of the land. Whenever he drove his herd out into the woods and camped there he would take out his flute and play a cheerful tune, and as soon as he blew into the flute the three piglets immediately began to dance, jumping around him so merrily that it was a welcome break from the loneliness of the forest. Now it happened that one day he drove the pigs near the royal princess's summer palace. He lay down beneath an oak tree in the warm sunshine and had his piglets dance to his flute. The princess saw this from her window, and she thought that they were so cute and funny that at once she sent her maid down to the lad to ask him if he wouldn't sell her one of the piglets. 'Greetings from the princess,' said the maid to the lad. 'She would like to know if one of your lovely colorful piglets would be for sale. 'They're not for sale,' said the lad, 'but one can be earned. Just tell your princess that if I may sleep one night in the same bed with her chambermaid, I would be happy to give her one of my piglets.' The maid returned to the princess with this message, and the princess wanted one of the cute little piglets so badly that she let the lad have his way. After receiving the piglet she bought herself a flute to make it dance, but it would not dance. She played the most beautiful dance tunes that she knew, petted the animal, and stroked it, but it would not dance. 'Oh, dear,' said the princess. 'The little animal won't dance, because it doesn't have a playmate. I'll have to see if I cannot get one for him.' She was very sad that her little piglet would not dance. The next day the lad was once again tending his animals near the castle. The princess sent to him a second time, asking if one of his two piglets were not for sale. 'Not for sale,' said the lad once again. 'But it can be earned. If I may sleep a second night in the same bed with the princess's chambermaid, then I'll give the princess one of the piglets. Nothing else will do.' The princess, who wanted the piglet ever so badly, let the lad have his way. Later, after she had the second piglet, she brought the two together, took out her flute, and played many lovely tunes, but the piglets did not dance. Now she concluded that the problem was with the flute, so she waited impatiently until the lad came back to see if she could not get the third piglet as well as the flute from him. The lad did indeed come back the next day. He lay down beneath the oak tree in the warm sunshine and had his piglet dance to his flute: the gallop, waltzes, and -- in short -- all the dances that were popular in the country. The princess sent to him and asked if the third piglet, together with the flute, were for sale. 'Not for sale,' said the lad once again. 'But they can be earned. If tonight I may sleep with the princess in her bed, then I will give her my piglet, together with the flute.' When the princess heard this, it was a little too much for her, but she wanted the piglet and the flute so badly that she asked if it wouldn't be all the same if he could sleep yet another night with the chambermaid in her bed. 'No!' answered the lad. 'Only the princess will do. If she won't agree, it's all right with me. I'll just keep my piglet and my flute.' Thus the princess saw that there was no other way. She had to let the lad do what he wanted to do. Now she had all three of the colorful little piglets together, and they danced ever so cheerfully to the sound of the flute: the gallop, waltzes, and -- in short -- all the dances that were popular in the country. This delighted the princes so much that she never grew tired of playing for the little animals. On the other hand, now that the lad no longer had his piglets and his flutes, he was no longer happy in these parts, so he set forth into the wide world. Now it happened that soon afterward the king proclaimed far and wide that whoever would be able to guess what kind of birthmark the princess had on her body could have her as a wife, be he rich or poor, nobleman or commoner. However, anyone who attempted, but guessed wrong, would lose his head, and thus his life. When the pig-boy heard this news he immediately set forth toward home, thinking that he would be able to solve the riddle. Underway he met up with a priest who asked him where he had come from, where he was going, and what sort of business was taking him there. 'I am going to the king's court,' replied the lad, 'to see if I can't guess the princess's birthmark.' The priest said, 'Do you already know something about it, my son? Otherwise you'll likely lose your head and thus your young life.' 'I don't know for sure,' said the lad, 'but one thing is certain: The princess has three hairs on one side of her body.' Hearing this, the priest thought that now that he that knew the answer he would seek the prize for himself by getting ahead of the boy if at all possible. 'I am seeking the same goal as you are, my son,' he said to the boy. 'If it's all right with you, let's walk on together.' The lad agreed, and together they made their way to the royal court. They announced themselves to the king, and as soon as he realized why they had come he sent for the executioner who made ready his bare sword. 'So!' said the king. 'Let us begin. The priest can be first, and then the pig-boy. Reverend sir, what kind of birthmark does my daughter have on her body?' The cunning priest, happy that his turn came first, quickly spoke out: 'Three hairs on one side!' 'Right!' said the king, 'but, my dear sir, on which side? And how long are they? And how thick are they? And what do they look like?' The priest, not knowing what to say, just stood there with his mouth hanging open. 'Listen up, priest!' said the king. 'Rightfully you would now be made shorter by one head, but because you guessed at least something right your life will be spared this time.' Then he turned to the pig-boy and said, 'Now, my lad, it's your turn to guess. What is the birthmark that my daughter has on her body?' 'Three hairs on one side.' 'Right, my son! But on which side?' 'On her left side.' 'Right! But how long are they? And how thick are they? And what do they look like?' 'With all respect, your majesty, they are as long and as thick as knitting needles, and they are -- I think -- gold colored.' 'Right, my son,' cried the king. 'You have guessed correctly, and have rightfully won the princess.' Thus the priest had to go on his way shamefully, but the pig-boy married the beautiful princess.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Princess's Birthmarks,Denmark,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Evald Tang Kristensen, 'Prinsessens Mærker,' Jyske Folkeminder: Især fra Hammerum Herred, Femte Samling, (Copenhagen: Konrad Jørgensen, 1881), no. 12, pp. 89-95. Source (Internet Archive): Evald Tang Kristensen, 'Prinsessens Mærker,' Jyske Folkeminder: Især fra Hammerum Herred, Femte Samling, (Copenhagen: Konrad Jørgensen, 1881), no. 12, pp. 89-95.","There was a band of robbers who had their hideaway dug into a large mountain. Their captain had a son who was born there, but when he was grown, he did not want to stay with them, because he did not like their dealings, so his father allowed him to leave and seek work as an honest man. On saying farewell, his father gave him a wallet and a golden box, things to remind him of his home. Some time later he found work with a squire to look after the sheep. On the squire's farm was a mound where the sheep were not allowed to graze for fear that a wild troll might capture them. On his first morning the new shepherd drove the sheep to the mound, then sat down to eat his lunch. The troll suddenly appeared and asked for some of his lunch, and the shepherd gave him half. Then the troll said, 'Because you have shared your lunch with me, all will go well with your sheep.' Thus every day the lad went to the mound and shared his lunch with the troll, and in return the troll showed him the best places to graze the sheep. One day the troll said to the lad, 'If you will continue to serve here until you are eighteen, I'll help you.' The boy agreed to this and served four more years (he was fourteen when he started there). When the time came for him to leave, the troll said, 'You should now go to the king's castle and take service there as a swineherd. I'll give you this flute, and whenever you blow into it the pigs will dance ever so nicely. The lad thanked him and went on his way. The king had nine pigs, and the lad took them into the woods. On returning to the castle with them he blew into the flute, and the pigs jumped about and danced ever so beautifully. Now the princess saw the dancing pigs from her bedroom window, and she wanted to have one of them. The next day she secretly went into the woods and asked the swineherd if his pigs could indeed dance. 'Yes,' he replied. 'Do you want to see them dance?' He blew into the flute, and the pigs danced. 'Will you sell me one of the pigs?' 'I can do that,' he said. 'How much will it cost? But it must be a pig that can dance.' In payment he asked only to see her garters. This displeased the princess, but the swineherd would accept nothing else, so in the end she lifted up her skirts, and he gave her one of the pigs. Back at the castle she sent for her musicians, but for all their skill they could not make the pig dance. All the pig would do was to squeal and scream. So the next day she returned to the woods and complained to the swineherd. 'Your pig must have been too lonely to dance,' explained the swineherd. 'You should buy another pig.' 'Yes, but what will I have to pay for this one?' She would have to show him her breasts. So she undid her bodice and let him look, and he saw that she had two silver hairs below her left armpit and one golden hair below her right armpit. Thus she got the second pig, but upon returning to the castle it too would not dance. So the next day she went once again into the woods to complain to the swineherd. 'I can give you a dancing pig,' he promised, 'but first you must show me your bare arms.' By now she was used to such requests, so she rolled up her sleeves. He saw that on her left arm was a blood-red spot as large as a ducat. It was a birthmark that she had been born with. So she got the third pig and returned home with it, but it too refused to dance, however much her musicians played and drummed. That evening when the lad returned to the castle with his six pigs the king noticed that three were missing, and because the swineherd could not explain how they had disappeared, the king dismissed him forthwith. Now in those same days the king issued a proclamation throughout the realm that whoever might guess the princess's birthmarks could have her in marriage. Many suitors arrived on the appointed day. The king saw them one by one, but none guessed right. All the while the swineherd was hiding behind a door where he could hear everything. One of the suitors was a good-looking student, and he pumped the swineherd for an answer to the riddle. 'I guess she has two silver hairs beneath right armpit and a gold hair beneath her left armpit,' replied the swineherd, so when the student presented himself, this is the answer that he gave. 'Not true!' shouted the swineherd. 'She has a gold hair beneath her right armpit and two silver hairs beneath her left armpit.' 'Hold your tongue, boy!' said the king, who liked the good-looking student. 'Just what are you saying?' 'What I say is true!' said the swineherd, and it turned out that he was right. The king then asked the student, 'Can you tell me on which arm the princess has a birthmark?' 'Her right arm.' 'Not true!' shouted the swineherd. On her left arm is a red mark the size of a ducat. Her arm was examined, and everyone in the hall said, 'The boy is right.' Nonetheless, the king refused to accept the swineherd, and instead he set an additional task. That night each suitor would go to bed on either side of the princess, the one she was facing the next morning would be the winner. Before bedtime the king gave a feast for the judges and some of the suitors. The student thought himself in seventh heaven, for he was sure that he would win the princess, and thus he drank until he was quite drunk. But the swineherd was not so foolish. Finally the three went to bed, and the bedroom door was locked behind them. The princess turned to face the student, for she favored him. Now before bedtime the swineherd had purchased a bag of prunes and raisins, and as he lay there he munched on them. In the night the student became ill from his overeating and overdrinking. Needing to vomit, he tried to go outside, but the door was locked, so he had to puke in the corner. When he returned to bed the princess smelled his breath, and it was so foul that she turned toward the swineherd, whose breath smelled much better. They all slept until daybreak, and when the king looked in on them she was facing the swineherd. Thus the case was settled. Nothing more could be said against the swineherd. 'Now that you have won the contest,' said the king, 'tell us about your possessions.' The boy told him of the wallet and the golden box. These were his entire inheritance, and he had not opened them since leaving home. The king wanted to see them, and opening the wallet he saw photographs of the lad's father and mother, and he recognized the father as his own twin brother. When their father had died they had battled each other over the kingdom. The loser had escaped into the woods and had become the leader of a band of robbers. Then they opened the golden box, and it contained a rich inheritance. The wallet was given to the king, for he had often thought about his brother and longed for him. Now he knew that he was still alive. Of course the lad should marry the princess, and their wedding was soon celebrated. He received half the kingdom at once, along with a dowry, and when the king died he received the second half as well.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Rivals,Bukovina,The text is in Bukovina Romani dialect with an interlinear Latin translation. Bukovina is a historical region located in present-day Romania and Ukraine.,"Source (Internet Archive): Franz Miklosich, 'Die Nebenbuhler,' Märchen und Lieder der Zigeuner der Bukowina, no. 7, pp. 29-30. This is part 4 of Über die Mundarten und die Wanderungen der Zigeuner Europa's (Vienna: Karl Gerold's Sohn, 1874).","Once there was an emperor's daughter who had a moon-shaped mark on her forehead, a moon-shaped mark on her breast, and one on her back shaped like the stars. The emperor proclaimed throughout the kingdom that whatever man could describe these marks could take her in marriage. Now another emperor's son was her lover, and he knew the marks. At the same time there was a swineherd who tended a sow with twelve golden piglets in the forest. The princess saw the piglets and asked the lad to sell one of them to her. 'They are not for sale,' he replied, 'but if you will lift your skirts to your knees, I will give one of them to you.' She looked around, making sure that no one else could see, then lifted her skirts to her knees. The lad gave her a piglet. The emperor was delighted with the little animal, for never before had he seen a golden piglet. The next morning the princess went into the woods again, wanting to buy another piglet. 'They are not for sale,' said the swineherd, but if you will lift your skirts to your waist, I will give one of them to you.' She did what he wanted, and took the second piglet back to the castle. The emperor was even happier with the new piglet than before. The third morning the princess returned to the woods, but the swineherd would not sell her a another piglet. 'But,' he said, 'if you will take off your shift and turn around in front of me three times, I will give you another piglet.' The princess did what he wanted, and the swineherd was able to see the sun on her forehead, the moon on her breast, and the stars on her back. The princess returned to the castle with her prize, and the emperor rejoiced with the new golden piglet. He now set the time for the great contest to guess his daughter's birthmarks. One of the suitors was another emperor's son. This prince was her lover, and he knew the marks. In the end, both the swineherd and the prince identified the marks. To settle the matter, the ministers declared that for one night the two rivals and the princess should all three sleep together in one bed. Whoever the princess was embracing the following morning would win her hand in marriage. The swineherd hid a snack in his nightshirt: bread, fruit, and sweets. In the night he began to eat the sweets, and the princess said, 'I'm hungry, what are you eating?' 'I'm eating my lips.' 'Give me some.' So he gave here some of his sweets, which she ate, saying, 'Oh, they are sweet!' The prince heard this and replied, 'Mine are still sweeter,' upon which he took out a knife, cut off his own lips, and handed them to the princess. She threw them onto the floor. Next the swineherd gave the princess some fruit, claiming that it was his nose. 'Oh, how sweet!' said the princess. 'Mine is still sweeter,' replied the emperor's son, then cut off his own nose and handed it to the princess. Immediately she threw it onto the floor. Finally the swineherd gave the princess some bread, saying that it was his ears. As before the prince cut off his own ears and handed them to the princess, who threw them onto the floor. The prince bled to death, and the princess pushed him out of the bed onto the floor, then took the swineherd into her arms. The next morning the swineherd and the princess were found embracing one another. They dressed the swineherd in clothes befitting an emperor, then he and the princess were joined together in marriage.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Shepherd and the King's Daughter,Serbia,Editor's note: I have substantially shortened the episode describing the hero's miraculous healing of an entire kingdom.,"Source (books.google.com): Serbian Folk-Lore, translated from the Serbian by Elodie L. Mijatovich, 2nd edition (Columbus Printing, Publishing, and Advertising Company, 1899), pp. 165-79. Source (Internet Archive): Serbian Folk-Lore, translated from the Serbian by Elodie L. Mijatovich, 2nd edition (Columbus Printing, Publishing, and Advertising Company, 1899), pp. 165-79.","A long time ago there lived a poor woman, who possessed nothing in the world except one son and four lambs. The boy took the lambs out to graze every morning, and brought them home every night. One day it happened that the lambs were grazing in a field not far from the summer palace of the king, and the king's daughter came out to the young shepherd and asked him to give her one of them. The boy refused, saying, 'I cannot give you one, for my mother will scold me if I do, as we have nothing in the world except these four lambs.' The princess, however, had taken so great a fancy for a lamb that she would not be refused, and at last said, 'Only let me have this one and I will give you any price you like to ask.' The boy, seeing that the princess would not go away without a lamb, considered a little how he could get rid of her, and then he told her that he would give her one if she would show him one of her shoulders. To his great surprise the princess, without any hesitation, pushed her mantle aside and showed him her bare white arm, and he noticed that on the shoulder there was a mark like a star. He was obliged now to give her one of his lambs, and when he went home in the evening he told his mother that he had fallen asleep at noon, and that when he awoke, one of the lambs had vanished, and he could not find it anywhere. Then his mother scolded him very much, saying, 'I see you will bring me to the beggar's staff with your carelessness! Tomorrow you must take these three lambs out to graze very early, and look well about for the lost one. And if you don't find it you had better never let me set eyes on you again.' At dawn the next day the boy took the three lambs to graze in the same field, and sat down to consider how he could get back the lamb he had lost. At noon, when no one was about, the king's daughter came out of the palace and said to him, 'Young shepherd, give me another lamb, and ask what you please in return.' But the boy answered, 'No! I dare not give you another; I have suffered enough for the one I gave you yesterday! So please go and bring me my lamb back.' This the princess refused to do, and said, 'It is quite useless to speak of such a thing. But tell me, did you notice anything particular on my shoulder?' The youth answered, 'Yes, I saw a star!' 'Ah!' exclaimed the princess; 'for that you can never pay me enough, and yet you want your lamb back!' So they almost quarreled, for the king's daughter persisted in begging him to give her another lamb, and the young shepherd insisted that she should bring him the first one back again. At last, seeing there was no end to her begging, the boy said, 'Well! I will give you one if you uncover before me your other shoulder.' This the princess did instantly, and he noticed that she had the mark of a star on that arm also. In this way he lost a second lamb; and when the evening came he went home very sadly, feeling sure his mother would scold him. And so she did, far more than at the first time, calling him ill names and threatening to beat him. The boy was really sorry that he had given way to the princess's pleas, but he could not help it now. Next day, again, the princess came to him and begged so hard and so long for a third lamb that he became impatient, and, thinking to shame her, said he would give her one if she showed him her neck. To his great surprise, however, the king's daughter at once let her mantle fall, and he saw that she had the mark of a crescent on her throat. So the poor boy lost a third lamb, and hardly dared go home to his mother at night with the one lamb left them. Indeed the poor old woman was so angry at her son's carelessness in losing one lamb after another whilst he slept -- for he did not dare to tell her the truth about the princess -- that she cursed him as 'a good-for-nothing who would bring her to beggary.' Notwithstanding all his mother's reproaches and threats the boy could not refuse the princess the next day when she came out to ask for the fourth lamb. However, he tried to get her to go away a long time, and not until quite tired out with her begging, did he exclaim, 'Well, I will give you the lamb if you will show me your breast!' Then the princess pushed her robe aside, and the boy noticed that she had the mark of a sun on her bosom. In this way the young shepherd lost all the four lambs, and he lived a long time with his mother in great poverty. A long, long time afterwards the king sent out a proclamation that he intended to let his daughter marry, and would give her to that man who could tell him what particular birthmarks she had about her. The young shepherd heard this proclamation, and when he went home in the evening he said to his mother, 'Mother, I intend to go to the king's palace tomorrow, so get me my best linen ready.' 'And what do you want in the king's palace?' asked the poor old woman wondering. 'I intend, God helping me, to marry the king's daughter,' replied the young man boldly. 'Oh! you had better give up that fancy,' cried the mother. 'It will be better for you to go and work and gain a piaster than to go, like a fly without a head, dreaming about things that are as high as the sky above you.' But the young man would not be persuaded, and went the next day to the king's palace. Before going out of the hut, however, he said to his anxious old mother, 'Good-bye, mother.' He had not walked very far before a gipsy met him, and asked, 'Where are you going, my young man?' 'I am going to the king's palace,' answered the youth, 'and I mean, God helping me, to marry the king's daughter.' 'But, my dear comrade,' said the gipsy, keeping near him, 'how can you really expect that she will marry you, when you are so poor? Only a shepherd!' 'Eh!' returned the young man; 'but I know what birthmarks she has, and the king has sent out a proclamation that whoever guesses these shall have her for his wife.' 'If it is so,' rejoined the cunning gipsy, 'I myself will also go to the palace with you.' The young man was glad to have company on the road, and so he and the gipsy travelled on together until they came to the residence of the king. When they came to the palace they found a large number of people who had come to 'try their luck,' and guess what birthmarks the princess had. But it was lost time, for every one of them, after going past the king and guessing 'by good luck' at the marks of the princess, was obliged to go away, having lost his time and gained nothing. At length the turn came for the young shepherd to pass before the king, and the gipsy kept close to him to hear what he would say. So the youth stepped before the king and said, 'The princess has a star on each shoulder, and a crescent on the throat.' At this moment the gipsy shouted loudly, 'Look there! That is just what I was going to say!' 'Be quiet!' said the young shepherd; 'or, if you really know what other marks she has, speak out.' 'No, no!' cried the gipsy, 'Go on, go on! When you have done, I will speak what I know!' Then the youth turned again to the king and continued, 'The princess has the mark of a sun on her bosom.' 'That is exactly what I was going to say!' cried the gipsy, coming up quickly; 'She has the mark of a sun on her breast.' Now the king was exceeding surprised, and confessed to his counsellors that the young shepherd had really guessed the truth. But as neither the king nor the counsellors at all liked the idea of the princess marrying a poor shepherd, they consulted how they could get rid of him without giving the lie to the king's proclamation. At length it was decided that his majesty should say, 'As both the shepherd and the gipsy have guessed the princess's birthmarks, I cannot justly decide which of them should marry her. But I will give to each of them seventy piasters, and they must both go and trade with this money for a year. At the end of the year, that one which brings back the most money shall have the princess for his wife.' The young shepherd and the gipsy, having received the money, went off in opposite directions to seek their fortunes. After having travelled about some time the shepherd stopped one night to rest in the hut of an old woman, who was even poorer than his own mother. As he sat with the old woman in the hut that evening, the lad thought he might just as well ask her advice as to the best way to invest his capital of seventy piasters, so he said, 'I have seventy piasters to trade with, can you tell me some good way in which I may employ them profitably?' The old woman considered the matter for some time before she answered, and then said, 'Tomorrow is market day in the next city; go there yourself, and when a man brings a very poor cow for sale, go up and try to buy it. The cow will be of many different colors, but very thin and ill fed; but you must buy her at whatever price the man asks for her. When you have bought her, bring her here at once.' The young man agreed to follow the old woman's counsel, and so next day he went to the city and really found there a man who had brought a poor, but variously colored, cow to sell. Many people wished to buy the cow, but the young man outbid them all, and at length offered all his seventy piasters for her. So he got the cow, and drove it to the hut where he had passed the night. When the old woman came out to see who was coming, he called out to her, 'Now, my old mother, I have bought the cow, and what shall we do with her? She has cost me all my capital!' The old woman answered at once, 'Kill the cow, my son, and cut it in pieces.' 'But how will that bring me back my money with profit?' asked the young shepherd, hesitating whether he should follow her advice or no. 'Don't be afraid, my son, but do as I say,' returned the old woman. Accordingly he did as she advised him, killed the cow and cut her into pieces. This done, he asked again, 'And now, what shall I do?' The old woman said quietly, 'Well, now we will eat the meat, and the suet we will melt down and put into a pot to keep for some other occasion.' The shepherd did not at all like this proposal, for he could not see what return he could hope to get for such an investment of his capital. However, he thought within himself, 'Well, since I have been foolish enough to follow her counsel on the two former occasions, I may as well follow it also this third time.' So he remained with the old woman many days, until the last piece of meat had been eaten up. When, however, he thought over all that had happened, he grew very sad, and, seeing no sign of anything better, said one morning to the old woman reproachfully, 'Now you see by following your counsel I have spent all the king's money, and am now a ruined man!' 'Don't be afraid, my son,' said the old woman. 'You can now take that pot of suet with you and go to a certain country where all the people are suffering from a strange disease, and there you can sell for a good deal of money your suet, for it has the power to cure them.' The poor shepherd was very glad at hearing this, and next morning took the pot of suet on his shoulder and started on his journey. After he had travelled many, many days, he came to a strange-looking country, and, going a little farther, he discovered that the old woman had told the truth. All the citizens, from the poorest beggar to the king himself were suffering from a disease that no doctor had been able to cure. However, the shepherd's suet performed miracles, and in short order the sufferers were again all healthy and vigorous. The grateful king responded to the shepherd's miracle with the promise, 'Only ask! I will give you whatever you wish, even if it be my throne!' 'I thank your Majesty very humbly for offering me your throne, but I don't want it,' replied the shepherd; 'but if you will give me three ships full of gold and silver, and some good sailors to manage the ships, and some good soldiers and cannons to defend them against the pirates, I shall think myself more than repaid, and I will send you back the ships and cannons when the gold and silver are landed safely in my country.' Then the king at once gave the necessary orders, and in a very few days his servants came to report to him that the ships were then filled with gold and silver, and that the cannons were ready loaded and posted for action, and all the sailors and soldiers prepared to fight if any sea-robber came in their way. Then the young shepherd took a courteous leave of the king, and of all those other people who were so thankful to him for having cured them of their illness. He now went on board one of the ships, very glad to go back to his own country, and the two other ships full of gold and silver followed the first one across the seas. After having sailed a long time the three ships reached at last the coast of the kingdom where the king was waiting, daily expecting the return of the gipsy and shepherd to claim his daughter. The shepherd let his ships lie quietly in the harbor one day, and then, noticing much tumult and disturbance in the city, went ashore to see what had happened. There he found a great crowd, and on asking some of the people what they were going to do, they told him that they were going to hang a gipsy who had come to the city with seventy piasters capital, and who had not only spent all his money in drinking and reveling, but had even got into debt for seventy other piasters which he was quite unable to pay, and that this was the reason they were about to hang him. In a few moments the hangman appeared, leading the gipsy, who was no other than the very man who had tried to cheat the shepherd out of the princess. The young shepherd recognized his rival at once, and, going near him, said, 'What is this, my old friend? Have you really come to this?' The instant the gipsy saw the shepherd he stopped and began to whine and wail, begging him to save him from the gibbet, and he would be his faithful servant all his life. 'As for the princess,' he added cunningly, 'I have given her up a long time ago, and don't care for anything if only my life is spared.' Then the young shepherd was sorry for the poor trembling, whining wretch, and offered to pay the debt for the gipsy if the people would let him off. So they agreed to this, and the young man not only paid the seventy piasters the gipsy owed, but bought him besides a suit of good clothes as well as a carriage and a pair of fine horses. Then he left him and went back to his ships, and they sailed on slowly along the coast towards the king's residence. Now when the gipsy had dressed himself out smartly in his fine new clothes, he got into his carriage and drove off quickly to the king's palace. Arrived there, he left his carriage and horses in the courtyard, and went at once to the presence of the king, whom he addressed thus: 'Your majesty knows it is not yet quite a year since you gave me seventy piasters to trade with, and see! I come back already handsomely dressed, and have a fine carriage with a pair of beautiful horses below in the yard. As for the young shepherd, I have heard that he has not only spent all your majesty's money in rioting, but that he had also got in debt, for which he has been hung. So it is no use waiting for him! Let us keep my wedding at once!' The king did not fancy the gipsy for his son-in-law, and was thinking what he could say to put him off a little time, when, looking by chance through his window, he saw three strange-looking ships sailing slowly towards the shore. At this he exclaimed, 'I see some foreign visitors are coming to visit me, and I shall have enough to do to receive them with due honors, so we must put off the marriage for some days, at least!' But the gipsy pressed the king more and more to let him marry the princess at once; he was even bold enough to tell his Majesty that he could not wait any longer, and that the wedding would be all over in an hour. The king, however, refused to hear anything of this; so the gipsy, seeing that his plan had failed, went out from the presence of the king in great anger. A few hours later the three strange-looking ships dropped their anchors just opposite the palace, and the young shepherd, landing, came into the presence of the king, who was greatly astonished to see him alive, and still more astonished to hear that in return for his seventy piasters he had brought three vessels full of gold and silver. The king was now very well content to accept him as his son-in-law, and told him, in the course of conversation, what the gipsy had said about his having gone in debt and been hung. Then the young shepherd told his Majesty how he had found the gipsy, and had saved his life by paying his debt for him. The king was exceedingly angry, and ordered his servants to go after the gipsy and bring him at once into his presence. The servants looked about and around the palace on all sides, but nowhere could they find any trace of the gipsy. Then the king commanded that some of them should go in search of him without delay, and armed men were speedily scattered over the whole country, so that at last he was caught, and brought before the king, who condemned him to be hung for having so shamefully tried to injure the man who had saved his life and treated him so generously, and for having, at the same time, attempted to cheat the king. The young shepherd spent a few days in the palace, telling the king all the things he had seen abroad, and then, all preparations having been made, he was married to the princess, with great pomp and rejoicings. Then the king with his daughter and son-in-law lived for a great many years very happily.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Swineherd,Hans Christian Andersen,"Link to the text in Danish: Svinedrengen (1842). Note by Andersen concerning his source for this story: 'The Swineherd' has a few traits in common with an old Danish folktale that I heard as a child. It was, however, too indecent to be repeated. (H. C. Andersens Samlede Skrifter, vol. 15 [Copenhagen: C. A. Reitzels Forlag, 1880], p. 299).","Source (books.google.com): Hans Christian Andersen Fairy Tales from Hans Christian Andersen, third edition (London: J. M. Dent and Company; New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1907), pp. 355-60. Source (Internet Archive): Hans Christian Andersen Fairy Tales from Hans Christian Andersen, third edition (London: J. M. Dent and Company; New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1907), pp. 355-60.","There was once a poor prince; he had only a tiny kingdom, but it was big enough to allow him to marry, and he was bent upon marrying. Now, it certainly was rather bold of him to say to the emperor's daughter, 'Will you have me?' He did, however, venture to say so, for his name was known far and wide; and there were hundreds of princesses who would have said 'Yes,' and 'Thank you, kindly,' but see if she would! Just let us hear about it. A rose tree grew on the grave of the prince's father, it was such a beautiful rose tree. It only bloomed every fifth year, and then only bore one blossom; but what a rose that was! By merely smelling it one forgot all one's cares and sorrows. He also had a nightingale which sang as if every lovely melody in the world dwelt in its little throat. This rose and this nightingale were to be given to the princess, so they were put into great silver caskets and sent to her. The emperor had them carried before him into the great hall where the princess was playing house with her ladies-in-waiting. They had nothing else to do. When she saw the caskets with the gifts she clapped her hands with delight! 'If only it were a little kitten!' said she, -- but there was the lovely rose. 'Oh, how exquisitely it is made!' said all the ladies-in-waiting. 'It is more than beautiful,' said the emperor. 'It is nice.' But the princess touched it, and then she was ready to cry. 'Fie, papa!' she said. 'It is not artificial. It is a real one!' 'Fie!' said all the ladies-in-waiting. 'It is a real one!' 'Well, let us see what there is in the other casket, before we get angry,' said the emperor, and out came the nightingale. It sang so beautifully that at first no one could find anything to say against it. 'Superbe! Charmant!' said the ladies-in-waiting, for they all spoke French, each one worse than the others. 'How that bird reminds me of our late empress's musical box,' said an old courtier. ' Ah, yes, they are the same tunes, and the same beautiful performance.' 'So they are,' said the emperor, and he cried like a little child. 'I should hardly think it could be a real one,' said the princess. 'Yes, it is a real one,' said those who had brought it. 'Oh, let that bird fly away then,' said the princess, and she would not hear of allowing the prince to come. But the prince was not to be crushed. He stained his face brown and black, and, pressing his cap over his eyes, he knocked at the door. 'Good morning, emperor,' said he; 'can I be taken into service in the palace?' 'Well, there are so many wishing to do that,' said the emperor; 'but let me see! -- Yes, I need somebody to look after the pigs, for we have so many of them.' So the prince was made imperial swineherd. A horrid little room was given him near the pig-sties, and here he had to live. He sat busily at work all day, and by the evening he had made a beautiful little cooking pot. It had bells all round it and when the pot boiled they tinkled delightfully and played the old tune: Ach du lieber Augustin, Alles ist weg, weg, weg! But the greatest charm of all about it was, that by holding one's finger in the steam one could immediately smell all the dinners that were being cooked at every stove in the town. Now this was a very different matter from a rose. The princess came walking along with all her ladies-in-waiting, and when she heard the tune she stopped and looked pleased, for she herself could play its melody on the piano, but only with one finger. 'Why, that is my song,' she said. 'This must be a cultivated swineherd. Go and ask him what the instrument costs.' So one of the ladies-in-waiting had to go into his room, but she put clogs on first. 'How much do you want for the pot,' she asked. 'I must have ten kisses from the princess,' said the swineherd. 'Heaven preserve us!' said the lady. 'I won't take less,' said the swineherd. 'Well, what does he say?' asked the princess. 'I really cannot tell you,' said the lady-in-waiting. 'It is so shocking.' 'Then you must whisper it.' And she whispered it. 'He is a wretch!' said the princess, and went away at once. But she had only gone a little way when she heard the bells tinkling beautifully: Ach du lieber Augustin. 'Go and ask him if he will take ten kisses from the ladies-in-waiting.' 'No, thank you,' said the swineherd. 'Ten kisses from the princess, or I keep my pot.' 'How tiresome it is,' said the princess. 'Then you will have to stand round me, so that no one may see.' So the ladies-in-waiting stood round her and spread out their skirts while the swineherd took his ten kisses, and then the pot was hers. What a delight it was to them. The pot was kept on the boil day and night. They knew what was cooking on every stove in the town, from the chamberlain's to the shoemaker's. The ladies-in-waiting danced about and clapped their hands. 'We know who has sweet soup and pancakes for dinner, and who has cutlets. How amusing it is.' 'Highly interesting,' said the mistress of the robes. 'Yes, but hold your tongues, for I am the emperor's daughter.' 'Heaven preserve us!' they all said. The swineherd -- that is to say, the prince, only nobody knew that he was not a real swineherd -- did not let the day pass in idleness, and he now constructed a rattle. When it was swung round it played all the waltzes, gallops and jig tunes which have ever been heard since the creation of the world. 'But this is superbe!' said the princess, as she walked by. 'I have never heard finer compositions. Go and ask him what the instrument costs, but let us have no more kissing.' 'He wants a hundred kisses from the princess!' said the lady-in-waiting. 'I think he is mad!' said the princess, and she went away, but she had not gone far when she stopped. 'One must encourage art,' she said; 'I am the emperor's daughter. Tell him he can have ten kisses, the same as yesterday, and he can take the others from the ladies-in-waiting.' 'But we don't like that at all,' said the ladies. 'Oh, nonsense! If I can kiss him you can do the same. Remember that I pay your wages as well as give you board and lodging.' So the lady-in-waiting had to go again. 'A hundred kisses from the princess, or let each keep his own.' 'Stand in front of me,' said she, and all the ladies stood round, while he kissed her. 'Whatever is the meaning of that crowd round the pig-sties?' said the emperor as he stepped out onto the balcony; he rubbed his eyes and put on his spectacles. 'Why it is the ladies-in-waiting, what game are they up to? I must go and see!' So he pulled up the heels of his slippers for they were shoes which he had trodden down. Bless us, what a hurry he was in! When he got into the yard, he walked very softly and the ladies were so busy counting the kisses, so that there should be fair play, and neither too few nor too many kisses, that they never heard the emperor. He stood on tiptoe. 'What is all this?' he said when he saw what was going on, and he hit them on the head with his slipper just as the swineherd was taking the eighty-sixth kiss. 'Out you go!' said the emperor, for he was furious, and both the princess and the prince were put out of his realm. There she stood crying, and the swineherd scolded, and the rain poured down in torrents. 'Oh, miserable creature that I am! If only I had accepted the handsome prince. Oh, how unhappy I am!' The swineherd went behind a tree, wiped the black and brown stain from his face, and threw away his ugly clothes. Then he stepped out dressed as a prince. He was so handsome that the princess could not help curtseying to him. 'I am come to despise you,' he said. 'You would not have an honorable prince, you could not prize the rose or the nightingale, but you would kiss the swineherd for a trumpery musical box! As you have made your bed, so must you lie upon it!' Then he went back into his own little kingdom and shut and locked, the door. So she had to stand outside and sing in earnest: Ach du lieber Augustin Alles ist weg, weg, weg! 'The Swineherd' has a few traits in common with an old Danish folktale that I heard as a child. It was, however, too indecent to be repeated. (H. C. Andersens Samlede Skrifter, vol. 15 [Copenhagen: C. A. Reitzels Forlag, 1880], p. 299).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Swineherd Who Married a Princess,Europe,Retold from various European sources.,NA,"Once upon a time in a distant kingdom there was a simple peasant lad who herded swine in a forest next to the king's castle. One of his pigs was smarter than all the rest, and the swineherd taught him how to stand on his hind legs and dance. A swineherd does get lonely, as you must know, alone in the woods with only his animals for company, and he must have been very pleased with himself that he had taught a pig to dance. One warm summer's day the princess was out walking in the shady woods, and she came upon the swineherd, just as his pig had finished dancing a jig. 'Oh, please make him dance once again,' asked the princess, ever so courteously, for she had never before seen a pig dance. 'Only if you will lift your skirts to your knees,' answered the swineherd. The princess could see no harm in this, so she lifted her skirts to her knees, and sure enough, the swineherd's pig danced a merry jig. 'That was too short,' said the princess. 'Can't he dance some more?' 'Only if you lift your skirts to your waist,' said the swineherd. The princess hesitated, but again she could see no harm in his request, so she lifted her skirts to her waist, and the pig danced another merry jig. She still had not had enough and asked, again ever so politely, if the pig couldn't dance just one more time. It was such a cheerful thing to see! 'Only if you lift your skirts to your neck,' said the swineherd. 'To my neck?' she asked. 'To your neck!' he replied. Now not even a princess can see a dancing pig every day, so she lifted her skirts to her neck, and the swineherd's pig danced his very best. Some time later the king decided that it was time for the princess to marry, and because she was the most beautiful maiden in all the land, suitors came from near and far. The king could not choose from the many princes and noblemen who came courting his daughter. Finally he decreed that to win the princess's hand in marriage a suitor would have to describe her secret birthmark. You see, from the day the princess was born she had had a birthmark on her belly, a dainty little spot from which grew three fine golden hairs. The swineherd soon learned of the proclamation, and went to the castle at once, because, of course, he had seen the mark with the three golden hairs on the day that the princess had lifted her skirts in order to make his pig dance. Now a king's word is a king's word, and even though he did not relish giving his daughter to a simple swineherd, he had to do as he had promised. After all, the swineherd was able to describe the birthmark ever so correctly, down to the last golden hair. But the story is not yet done, for one of the princes who had come to court the princess offered the princess's lady-in-waiting a bag of gold if she would just describe to him her mistress's birthmark. The faithless servant took the gold and told the unworthy prince what he wanted to know. When the deceitful prince presented himself to the king and described the princess's birthmark ever so accurately, the king, at first, did not know what to do. But then he struck upon a plan. 'Let the princess decide herself!' he proclaimed. She and the two suitors shall spend the night together in the princess's bed. At sunrise I will look in on them, and the one she is facing shall be her husband. When the swineherd learned of the king's decree, he made plans for the night. First he put a large clump of chocolate (some say that it was marzipan) into his pocket. Then he secretly dropped an herb into the false prince's evening soup, an herb that would summon nature's call quickly and surely. That night the swineherd, the deceitful prince, and the beautiful princess all lay down in her large bed; the king locked the door behind them; and they closed their eyes. Then suddenly the false prince jumped up with a start and ran to the door, but it was locked. 'I have to also!' said the swineherd, jumping out of bed. 'What can we do? We're locked in!' cried the prince. 'We'll have to do it on the floor.' said the swineherd. Then each man deposited something on the floor: the swineherd his clump of chocolate, and the prince --, well, some things are better left unsaid. 'Now we are in trouble!' said the swineherd. 'When the king discovers what we've done, he'll have us killed!' 'What can we do?' asked the terrified prince. 'We've no choice,' answered the swineherd. 'We'll have to eat it.' Thus the swineherd ate his clump of chocolate, and the false prince ate ----, well, again, some things are better left unsaid. They returned to the sleeping princess's bed, one on one side of her and one on the other. With time the princess turned toward the prince and breathed in deeply, but then she gasped and quickly turned the other way. At sunrise the king looked in on them and found the princess contentedly asleep with her face nearly touching that of the swineherd. And that is how a simple swineherd came to marry a princess.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,The Youngest Prince and the Youngest Princess,Hungary,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, The Folk-Tales of the Magyars: Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 27, pp. 137-41. Source (Internet Archive): Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, The Folk-Tales of the Magyars: Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 27, pp. 137-41.","There was once, I don't know where, an old petticoat a hundred years old, and in this petticoat a tuck, in which I found the following story. There was once a king who had seven sons and seven daughters. He was in great trouble where to find princesses of royal blood as wives for his sons and princes as husbands for his daughters. At last the idea struck him that the seven sons should marry the seven daughters. They all consented to their father's wish with the exception of the youngest son and daughter. 'Well, if you won't,' said the father, 'I will give you your inheritance and you can go and try your fortune, and get married as best you can.' The two children went, and came to a strange land, where they were overtaken by darkness in a wood. They chose a bushy tree for their resting place, whose leafy boughs bent down to the ground and afforded shelter. When they woke next morning, the girl told her brother that she had dreamt that there was a town not far off, where a king lived who had been ill for a long time, and thousands upon thousands of doctors had failed to cure him. He again dreamt that an old man with snow-white hair told him that the tree under which they slept gave water. In this water the king was to be bathed, and he would be cured. They at once examined the tree, and from a crack in the bark sap as clear as crystal was dripping; they filled their flasks with the fluid and continued their journey. When they reached the outskirts of the forest, they saw a town in front of them. Having arrived there they went into an inn to find out whether their dream was true, and asked the host what the news was in the town; he, in his conversation, mentioned the illness of the king, and the many unsuccessful attempts of men to cure him, and that he had strict orders, under a heavy penalty, to report at once every doctor that came to his inn. 'I also am a doctor,' said the prince, 'and this youth is my assistant,' he continued, pointing to his sister, who was dressed in male attire. The innkeeper at once reported them, and they went to court to try their remedy on the king. The king's body was covered with sores, and the doctor bathed his hand with the juice of the tree. To his great joy, the king discovered next morning that the place which had been bathed was visibly improving; he therefore, the very same night, sent a huge wooden vessel on a cart to the tree, to bring him sufficient water for a bath. After a few baths the king actually recovered; and the doctor, having received a handsome present, requested a favor of the king, viz., to pay him a visit and to do him the honor of dining with him. The king cordially granted the request, and the prince received him with great splendor in his spacious apartments, which were decorated with a lavishness becoming a sovereign. As the king found the doctor alone, he inquired after his assistant, and at this moment a charming pretty girl stepped from one of the side rooms, whom the king at once recognized as the doctor's assistant. The strangers now related to him their story, and the king became more affable, especially towards the pretty assistant, who at once gained possession of his heart and soul, and the short acquaintance ended with a wedding. The prince, not forgetting the object of his journey, started soon after the wedding festivities were over. He passed on till he came to the boundary of the king's realm, and then went on as far as the capital of the next country. He was riding about the streets on a fine horse, when he heard a voice coming from a window close by, 'Hum, you, too, won't get on without me,' and looking in the direction from which the voice came, he discovered an old man looking out of the window. He didn't take any notice of the voice, but went on; and, having arrived at an inn, made sundry inquiries, when he was told that adventurous young men in this town might either meet with great fortune or with a great misfortune; because the king had a daughter whom no one had as yet seen, with the exception of her old nurse. The girl had three marks on her, and whoever found out what they were, and where they were, would become her husband; but whosoever undertook the task and failed, would be impaled, and that already ninety-nine young fellows had died in this manner. Upon hearing this, it became clear to the prince what the meaning of the old man's saying was; he thought, that no doubt the old man took him for another adventurer, and the thought struck him that the old man must be acquainted with the secret, and that it would be advantageous to make his acquaintance. He found a plea at once; the old man was a goldsmith, and, as the prince had lost the rowel of his golden spur on the road, he called on him, and, having come to terms about the spur, the prince inquired of him about the princess, and the old man's tale tallied with that of the innkeeper. After a short reflection, the prince told the old man who he was, and, with a look full of meaning, inquired if the goldsmith could help him in case he tried his luck. 'For a good sum with pleasure,' replied the goldsmith. 'You shall have it,' said the prince; 'but tell me how, and I will give you this purse on account.' The old man, seeing that there was good opportunity for gain, said, 'I will construct a silver horse in which you can conceal yourself, and I will expose it for sale in the market. I am almost sure that no one will buy it but someone attached to the royal court, and if once you get in there, you can get out of the horse by a secret opening and go back whenever you like and, I think, you will succeed.' And so it happened; on the following market day a splendid silver horse was exhibited in the vicinity of the royal palace. There were a good many admirers, but on account of the great price there was no buyer, till at last a person belonging to the royal court enquired the price; after a few moments he returned and bought the horse for the king, who presented it to his daughter, and thus the prince managed to get into the chamber of the princess, which was the most difficult of all things, and he listened amidst fear and joy to the silvery voice of the pretty girl, who amused herself with the horse -- which ran on wheels -- and called it her dear pet. Evening drew on, and the mysterious girl went to rest; everything became quiet, and only her old nurse was sitting up not far from her bed; but about midnight she, too, fell asleep. Hearing that she was fast asleep, the prince got out of the horse and approached the girl's bed, holding his breath, and found the mark of the sun shining on the girl's forehead, the moon on the right breast, and three stars on the left. Having found out the three secret marks, the prince was about to retire to his hiding place when the princess woke. She tried to scream, but at an imploring gesture of the youth she kept silence. The girl could not take her eyes off the handsome prince, who related to her how and for what reason he had dared to come. The girl, being tired of her long seclusion, consented to his scheme, and they secretly plotted how the prince should get out of the palace; whereupon he went back to his hiding place. In accord with the plot, next morning the girl broke one of the horse's ears off, and it was sent back to the goldsmith's to be repaired, and the prince was thus able to leave his dangerous position. Having again splendidly remunerated the goldsmith, he returned to his new brother-in-law, so that he might come back with a splendid suite and royal pomp, and appear as a king to try his fortune. The prince returned with many magnificently clad knights and splendid horses, and reported himself to the king, and informed him by message that he was anxious to try his luck for the possession of his daughter. The king was very much pleased with the appearance of the youth, and therefore kindly admonished him not to risk his life, but the prince seemed quite confident, and insisted on carrying out his wishes; so a day was fixed for carrying out the task. The people streamed out to the place where the trial was to take place, like as to a huge festival. And all pitied the handsome youth, and had sad misgivings as to his fate. The king granted three days to those who tried their fortune, and three guesses. On the first and second day, in order not to betray the plot, and in order to increase the éclat the prince guessed wrongly on purpose; but on the third day, when everyone was convinced that he must die, he disclosed in a loud voice the secret marks of the princess. The king declared them to be right, and the prince was led to his future wife, amidst the cheers of the multitude and the joyous strains of the band. The king ordered immense wedding festivities all over the town, and resigned his throne in favor of his son-in-law, who reigned happy for many years after!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
850,Three Golden Hairs,Wendish,"Source (books.google.com): Wilibald von Schulenburg, 'Die drei goldenen Haare,' Wendische Volkssagen und Gebräuche aus dem Spreewald (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1880), pp. 66-69.","Source (books.google.com): Wilibald von Schulenburg, 'Die drei goldenen Haare,' Wendische Volkssagen und Gebräuche aus dem Spreewald (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1880), pp. 66-69. Source (Internet Archive): Wilibald von Schulenburg, 'Die drei goldenen Haare,' Wendische Volkssagen und Gebräuche aus dem Spreewald (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1880), pp. 66-69.","In former times there was a peasant in a village. At that time they grazed pigs in a common pasture. The peasant had a servant boy eleven or twelve years old who tended the pigs and piglets. One day a ragman came to him with a wooden flute. The one sow had six piglets, and the ragman said, 'I will trade this wooden flute to you for three of your six piglets. If you blow on the flute your piglets will dance to the tune.' The boy did not want to do this, fearing that his master, the peasant, would scold him and beat him. To that the ragman said, 'You can tell your master that you'll give up your wages for the piglets. It is possible that you'll gain much more with the flute than your lost wages.' When the boy returned home with the pigs the peasant asked him, 'Where are the three piglets?' 'I traded them to the ragman for this flute. He said that the piglets will dance if I play the flute.' The peasant was about to beat the boy, but the latter told him to take the value of the missing piglets from his wages. Early the next morning the boy let the sow and the three piglets out into the farmyard and began to blow on the flute. To the amazement of the peasant the piglets danced. Never in his lifetime had he heard of piglets that could dance. He was now satisfied with the situation. From then on the boy tended sows and piglets in the pasture, playing a little piece on the flute, to which the piglets danced. The people who came by saw the dancing piglets, and they became famous in the entire village and also in other villages as well. Now it happened that a young lady in the village heard about the dancing piglets. Early one morning she went out to the boy and asked to buy one of the piglets. The boy was not allowed to sell one without asking his master. The peasant said, 'You can sell them if you get a good price.' Happily the boy went back out to the pasture. 'The young lady asked, 'What will you take for one of the piglets?' 'One hundred thalers, and then you'll have to lift your skirts up to your knees.' At first she did not want to do this, but finally she did lift her skirts up to her knees. 'This boy knows a lot,' she thought. Then the young lady took her piglet home with her and put it in the stall. The pig-girl was to keep watch over it and report when it began to dance. A whole day passed, but the piglet did not dance. The young lady thought, 'If I had two of them, then they would dance for sure.' So she went to the boy and asked how much a second piglet would cost. 'Two hundred thalers, and lift your skirts up to your waist.' She did not want to do this, but the boy said, 'I'll not sell the piglet for any other price.' She thought, 'This boy knows how to shame a girl,' but she did what he asked, then gave him two hundred thalers, and took the piglet home with her. She thought that the two piglets would dance, but they did not. On the third day she went once again to the boy and said that it was not true, that the piglets could dance; but the boy said that they could indeed. So then she thought that if she had all three they would dance, and she asked how much the boy wanted for the third piglet. He said, 'Three hundred thalers, and lift your skirt above your navel.' She did not want to do this, and thought about it for a long time, but finally she gave in. Now the young lady had an unusual mark: three golden hairs above her navel. When she returned home and had all three piglets together, she thought that they would dance. But they did not dance. So she sent a messenger to the boy, complaining that he had cheated her. The boy insisted, however, that they had danced for him. Then the peasant said, 'Send the wooden flute to the young lady. We received a good price for the piglets.' So the boy gave the flute to the messenger, and asked him to tell the young lady to play a while on it, and then the piglets would dance for sure. When the young lady blew on the flute the pigs danced, and she was very happy, for no one else had pigs like these. And she sent a generous tip to the boy. Some months later the young lady announced that she wanted to marry. She would give a feast and invite all the young gentlemen. She proclaimed that she would marry the one who could guess what her unusual mark was. On the appointed day all the suitors sat around the table eating and drinking. The boy had heard about this, and he sneaked into a corner. Beforehand he supplied himself with some peppermint drops, thinking that no one would offer him anything to eat. After dinner the guessing began, but no one could identify the young lady's mark. A half-hour pause was declared to give everyone time to think. They continued with the guessing, but no one was right. And after a third round of guessing, still no one succeeded. Finally the boy shouted out, 'I know what the young lady's mark is!' 'Out with it! What is it?' said everyone. 'She has three golden hairs above her navel.' Then they asked the young lady if this was true. She had to admit that it was so, but she did not want to marry the boy instead of one of the young gentlemen. Then they had to decide how to settle the dispute. One said one thing; another said something else, and finally they decided to -------- Now I am not allowed to say what happened next, but in the end the boy did indeed get the young lady, and he became her gentleman.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1317,All Faiths Lead to God: Four Blind Men and an Elephant,Ramakrishna,"Another source: The Gospel of Ramakrishna, authorized edition (New York: Vedanta Society, 1907), pp. 28-29. Ramakrishna (1836-1886) was an influential Indian mystic.","Sri Ramakrishna's Teachings, part 1, first edition (Lohaghat P. O., Dt. Almora, Himalayas: 1916), no. 398, p. 127.","Four blind men went to see an elephant. One who touched its leg said, 'The elephant is like a pillar.' The second who touched the trunk said, 'The elephant is like a thick club.' The third touched the belly, and thought it to be like a big jar. The fourth who felt the ears, concluded that the elephant was like a winnowing fan. They then began to dispute amongst themselves as to the ?gure of the animal they had touched. A passer-by hearing them quarrel, said, 'What is it this you are disputing about?' Then they stated the question and asked him to arbitrate. He said, 'Not one of you knows the real elephant. As a whole, it is neither like a pillar, nor a jar, nor a winnowing fan, nor a club. But its legs are like pillars, its belly like a big jar, its ears like a winnowing fan, and its trunk like a thick club. The elephant itself is a combination of all these.' In exactly the same manner do men quarrel among themselves about religion, each having seen some different aspect of the Deity.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1317,On the Blind Men and the Affair of the Elephant,"Sanai, The Enclosed Garden of the Truth",The book is also known as The Walled Garden of Truth. Sanai lived in Ghazni (now Afghanistan) between about 1080 and 1131 or 1141.,"Sanai, The first book of the Hadiqatu'l-Haqiqat; or, The Enclosed Garden of the Truth of the Hakim Abu'l-Majd Majdud Sana'i of Ghazna, edited and translated by J. Stephenson (Calcutta: Baptist Mission Press, 1910), p. 13.","There was a great city in the country of Ghur, in which all the people were blind. A certain king passed by that place, bringing his army and pitching his camp on the plain. He had a large and magnificent elephant to minister to his pomp and excite awe, and to attack in battle. A desire arose among the people to see this monstrous elephant, and a number of the blind, like fools, visited it, every one running in his haste to find out its shape and form. They came, and being without the sight of their eyes groped about it with their hands; each of them by touching one member obtained a notion of some one part; each one got a conception of an impossible object, and fully believed his fancy true. When they returned to the people of the city, the others gathered round them, all expectant, so misguided and deluded were they. They asked about the appearance and shape of the elephant, and what they told all listened to. One asked him whose hand had come upon its ear about the elephant; he said, 'It is a huge and formidable object, broad and rough and spreading, like a carpet.' And he whose hand had come upon its trunk said, 'I have found out about it; it is straight and hollow in the middle like a pipe, a terrible thing and an instrument of destruction.' And he who had felt the thick hard legs of the elephant said, 'As I have it in mind, its form is straight like a planed pillar.' Every one had seen some one of its parts, and all had seen it wrongly. No mind knew the whole. Knowledge is never the companion of the blind. All, like fools deceived, fancied absurdities. Men know not the Divine essence; into this subject the philosophers may not enter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1317,The Blind Men and the Elephant,The Udāna,"Another translation: 'Blind Men and Elephant: Avoid Vain Wrangling,' Buddhist Parables, translated from the original Pali by Eugene Watson Burlingame (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1922), no. 22, pp. 75-77.","The Udāna; or, The Solemn Utterrances of the Buddha, translated from the Pali by D. M. Strong (London: Luzac and Company, 1902), pp. 93-96.","Thus have I heard: On a certain occasion, the Blessed One dwelt at Savatthi, in the Jetavana, the garden of Anathapindika. Now at that time a large number of Samanas, Brahmanas and wandering monks of various heretical sects, holding a variety of views, doubters on many points, having many diverse aspirations, and recourse to that which relates to various heresies, entered Savatthi for alms. Some of these Samanas and Brahmanas held that the world is eternal and contended that this view was true and every other false. Some said: 'The world is not eternal.' Some said: 'The world is finite.' Some said: 'The world is infinite.' Some said: 'The soul and the body are identical.' Some said: 'The soul and the body are not identical.' Some said: 'The Perfect One continues to exist after death.' Some said: 'The Perfect One does not continue to exist after death.' Some said: 'The Perfect One exists and does not exist after death.' Some said: 'The Perfect One neither exists nor does not exist after death.' Each contending their view was true and every other false. These quarrelsome, pugnacious, cavilling monks wounded one another with sharp words (lit. mouth-javelins) declaiming: 'Such is the truth, such is not the truth: the truth is not such, such is the truth.' And a number of Bhikkhus [monks], robing themselves in the forenoon and taking their alms-bowls and tunics, entered Savatthi for alms and when they had returned from their rounds and finished their meal, they went to where the Blessed One was and drawing near, they saluted the Blessed One and sat down apart, and while thus sitting they said to the Blessed One: 'Just now, Sire, a large number of Samanas and Brahmanas and wandering monks holding various heresies entered Savatthi for alms, and they are disputing among themselves, saying: 'This is the truth, such is not the truth etc. [as above. Transl.]'' 'These heretical monks, O Bhikkhus, are blind, eyeless, they know not what is right, they know not what is wrong, they know not what is true, they know not what is false. These monks not perceiving what is right, not perceiving what is wrong, not perceiving what is true, not perceiving what is false, become disputatious, saying: 'such is the truth, such is not the truth etc. [as above. Transl.]'' In former times, O Bhikkhus, there was a King in this town of Savatthi. And the King, O Bhikkhus, called a man to him and said: 'Go, thou, and collect all the men born blind in Savatthi and bring them here.' 'Be it so, Lord'' said that man in assent to the King and he went to Savatthi and he brought all the men born blind in Savatthi to where the King was and drawing near he said to the King: 'Lord, all the men blind from their birth in Savatthi are present.' 'Pray, then, bring an elephant before them.' 'Be it so, Lord' said that man in assent to the King and he brought an elephant into the presence of the blind men and said: 'This, O blind men, is an elephant.' To some of the blind men he presented the head of the elephant, saying, 'Such, O blind men, is an elephant.' To some he presented the body, saying: 'such is an elephant.' To some he presented the feet, saying: 'Such is an elephant.' To some he presented the back, saying: 'Such is an elephant.' To some he presented the tail, saying : 'Such is an elephant.' To some he presented the hairy tuft of the tail, saying: 'Such is an elephant.' The show-man, O Bhikkhus, having presented the elephant to these blind ones, went to where the King was and drawing near said to the King: 'The elephant, Lord, has been brought before the blind men, do now as seems fit.' And the King went to where the blind men were, and drawing near said to them: 'Do you now know what an elephant is like?' 'Assuredly, Lord; we now know what an elephant is like.' 'Tell me then, O blind men, what an elephant is like.' And those blind men, O Bhikkhus, who had felt the head of the elephant, said: 'An elephant, Sir, is like a large round jar. Those who had felt its ears, said: 'It is like a winnowing basket.' Those who had felt its tusks, said: 'It is like a plough-share.' Those who had felt its trunk, said: 'It is like a plough.' Those who had felt its body, said: 'It is like a granary.' Those who had felt its feet, said: 'It is like a pillar.' Those who had felt its back, said: 'It is like a mortar.' Those who had felt its tail, said: 'It is a like a pestle.' Those who had felt the tuft of its tail, said: 'It is like a broom.' And they all fought amongst themselves with their fists, declaring, 'Such is an elephant, such is not elephant, an elephant is not like that, it is like this.' And the King, O Bhikkhus, was highly delighted. In exactly the same way, O Bhikkhus, do these heretical people, blind and without insight, dispute among themselves saying 'This doctrine is true, every other is false.' And the Blessed One in this connection, on that occasion, breathed forth this solemn utterance: Well is it known that some Samanas and Brahmanas, Who attach themselves to methods of analysis, And perceiving only one side of a case, Disagree with one another.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1317,The Blind Men and the Elephant: A Hindoo Fable,John Godfrey Saxe,The American poet John Godfrey Saxe (1816-87) introduced the Indian parable 'The Blind Men and the Elephant' to western readers with this famous poem.,"The Poems of John Godfrey Saxe, complete in one volume (Boston: James R. Osgood and Company, 1876), pp. 259-61.","I. It was six men of Indostan To learning much inclined, Who went to see the Elephant (Though all of them were blind), That each by observation Might satisfy his mind. II. The First approached the Elephant, And happening to fall Against his broad and sturdy side, At once began to bawl: 'God bless me! -- but the Elephant Is very like a wall!' III. The Second, feeling of the tusk, Cried: 'Ho! -- what have we here So very round and smooth and sharp? To me 't is mighty clear This wonder of an Elephant Is very like a spear!' IV. The Third approached the animal, And happening to take The squirming trunk within his hands, Thus boldly up and spake: 'I see,' quoth he, 'the Elephant Is very like a snake!' V. The Fourth reached out his eager hand, And felt about the knee. 'What most this wondrous beast is like Is mighty plain,' quoth he; ''T is clear enough the Elephant Is very like a tree!' VI. The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear, Said: 'E'en the blindest man Can tell what this resembles most; Deny the fact who can, This marvel of an Elephant Is very like a fan!' VII. The Sixth no sooner had begun About the beast to grope, Than, seizing on the swinging tail That fell within his scope, Is very like a rope!' VIII. And so these men of Indostan Disputed loud and long, Each in his own opinion Exceeding stiff and strong, Though each was partly in the right, And all were in the wrong. MORAL. So, oft in theologic wars The disputants, I ween, Rail on in utter ignorance Of what each other mean, And prate about an Elephant Not one of them has seen!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1317,The King and the Elephants,Leo Tolstoy,NA,"Lev [Leo] Tolstoy, Fables for Children ... , translated from the Russian and edited by Leo Wiener (London: J. M. Dent and Company, 1904), p. 28.","An Indian king ordered all the blind people to be assembled, and when they came, he ordered that all the elephants be shown to them. The blind men went to the stable and began to feel the Elephants. One felt a leg, another a tail, a third the stump of a tail, a fourth a belly, a fifth a back, a sixth the ears, a seventh the tusks, and an eighth a trunk. Then the king called the blind men, and asked them: 'What are my Elephants like?' One blind man said: 'Your elephants are like posts.' He had felt the legs. Another blind man said: 'They are like bath brooms.' He had felt the end of the tail. A third said: 'They are like branches.' He had felt the tail stump. The one who had touched a belly said: 'The elephants are like a clod of earth.' The one who had touched the sides said: 'They are like a wall.' The one who had touched a back said: 'They are like a mound.' The one who had touched the ears said: 'They are like a mortar.' The one who had touched the tusks said: 'They are like horns.' The one who had touched the trunk said that they were like a stout rope. And all the Blind Men began to dispute and to quarrel.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
303,The Blood Brothers,NA,Retold from various sources. This tale is told throughout the Indo-European cultural area. Aarne-Thomspon-Uther type 303.,NA,"Once upon a time a fisherman caught a fish that said to him, 'If you will set me free, I will grant you any wish.' Now more than anything else, the fisherman wanted to have a child with his wife, so he made this wish, and turned the fish loose. Before swimming away, the fish said, 'Cast your net again, and give your next catch to your wife to eat.' The fisherman did as he was told. His next cast netted him one little fish, which he took home with him. His wife ate the flesh. His dog ate the insides. And his horse ate the bones. Some time later his wife gave birth to twin boys; the dog had a litter of two pups; and the horse foaled with two colts. The twin boys gave their parents much pleasure, but with time the older brother became restless, and wanted to seek his fortune abroad. He left a bottle of clear white wine with his younger twin, saying, 'All will be well with me as long as the wine is white. But if it ever turns red, I will be in need of your help.' With that he took leave of his brother and of his parents, mounted the older twin horse, and, accompanied by the older twin dog, set forth into the world. After a long journey he came to a kingdom that was being ravished by a terrible dragon. The king had promised his daughter's hand in marriage to whatever man succeeded in killing the dragon. The twin tracked the dragon to its lair, then engaged him in battle. The fight was long and hard, but the brave twin finally prevailed, and the dragon lay dead at his feat. As proof that he had killed the beast, he cut out its tongue, then set out for the castle to claim the princess as his reward. Now the king had a steward who happened to come upon the dead dragon soon after the twin left. He decided to claim the kill for himself, cut off the dragon's head, and took a shortcut to the castle. The king was delighted to see the dragon's head, and he arranged for the wedding between the steward and the princess to take place immediately. The twin arrived just as the festivities were starting. Seeing that another man was unfairly claiming his prize, he said, 'It is a strange dragon that has no tongue.' 'Of course the dragon has a tongue,' said the steward, opening the dragon's mouth. But the tongue was not there. 'The dragon had a tongue when I killed it,' answered the twin, 'and here it is.' With this he produced the dragon's tongue. The king now saw that the steward had lied, and had him cast into a dark dungeon. The festivities continued, but this time with the twin as hero and bridegroom. The twin and the princess lived happily for some time, but after a while he became restless again. He announced that he wanted to go hunting in a nearby forest, named the Forest of No Return. His young wife asked him not to go, but his spirit of adventure prevailed. Soon after entering the Forest of No Return, the twin met an old woman, who, unknown to him, was a wicked witch. 'Good day, young sir,' she said. He began to return the greeting, but had scarcely opened his mouth when she cast a spell on him, turning him to stone. Meanwhile, back at the fisherman's cottage, the younger twin examined the bottle of wine every day. Its clear white color let him know that his older brother was well. One day, however, the wine turned blood red, and the younger brother knew that his twin was in need. He took leave of his parents, mounted the younger twin horse, and, accompanied by the younger twin dog, set forth into the world to find his older brother. After a long journey he came to the kingdom where his twin brother had killed the dragon. Everyone thought that he was their new prince, and he was escorted to the castle with honor. 'I thought that you would never come back from the Forest of No Return,' said the princess tenderly. However, to her dismay and surprise, instead of returning her love, that night he laid his sword between them in their bed. Early the next morning the younger twin set forth for the Forest of No Return. Soon after entering this forest, he met the old witch. 'Good day, young sir,' she said. Sensing her evil design, he said not a word, but leaped on her and pinned her to the ground. Holding his sword to her neck, he shouted, 'lead me to my brother, or die at once!' The witch, fearing for her life, led the young twin to his petrified brother. She anointed the stone with salve, and he returned to life. Overjoyed, the two brothers made they way back toward the castle. On their way, each one told the other of his adventures. When it was the younger brother's turn to speak, he told of how the white wine had turned to blood red, how he had found his way to the castle, how he had slept with the princess.... He was not able finish his sentence. The older twin, hearing that his brother had slept with his wife, drew his sword and cut off his head. When the older twin arrived at the castle, he was received by his wife with love. 'At last you are yourself!' she said. 'Not like the last time you were here, when you put a sword between us in bed.' The older twin now knew that he had unjustly killed his brother. He rushed back to the place where his body lay. Fortunately, he still had some of the witch's salve, and with it he anointed the dead man's wounds, placed the head back on the body, and brought his brother back to life. Together they returned to the castle, where they lived happily ever after. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology. Revised January 6, 2012.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,"Lars, My Lad!","Sweden, G. Djurklo",NA,NA,"So late one evening he came to a great forest. He did not know where he should find a shelter for the night, but he went on looking and searching till he caught sight of an old tumble-down hut, which stood in the middle of some bushes. It was not exactly good enough for such a fine cavalier, but when you cannot get what you want you must take what you can get. And, since there was no help for it, he went into the hut. Not a living soul was to be seen; there was not even a stool to sit upon, but alongside the wall stood a big chest. What could there be inside that chest? If only there were some bits of moldy bread in it! How nice they would taste! For, you must know, he had not had a single bit of food the whole day, and he was so hungry and his stomach so empty that it groaned with pain. He lifted the lid. but inside the chest there was another chest, and inside that chest there was another; and so it went on, each one smaller than the other, until they became quite tiny boxes. The more there were the harder he worked away, for there must be something very fine inside, he thought, since it was so well hidden. At last he came to a tiny, little box, and in this box lay a bit of paper -- and that was all he got for his trouble! It was very annoying, of course, but then he discovered there was something written on the paper, and when he looked at it he was just able to spell it out, although at first it looked somewhat difficult. 'Lars, my lad!' As he pronounced these words something answered right in his ear, 'What are master's orders?' He looked round, but he saw nobody. This was very funny, he thought, and so he read out the words once more, 'Lars, my lad!' And the answer came as before, 'What are master's orders?' But he did not see anybody this time either. 'If there is anybody about who hears what I say, then be kind enough to bring me something to eat,' he said. And the next moment there stood a table laid out with all the best things one could think of. He set to work to eat and drink, and had a proper fill. He had never enjoyed himself so much in all his life, he thought. When he had eaten all he could get down, he began to feel sleepy, and so he took out the paper again, 'Lars, my lad!' 'What are master's orders?' 'Well, you have given me food and drink, and now you must get me a bed to sleep in as well. But I want a really fine bed,' he said, for you must know he was a little more bold now that his hunger was stayed. Well, there it stood, a bed so fine and dainty that even the king himself might covet it. Now this was all very well in its way, but when once you are well off you wish for still more, and he had no sooner got into bed than he began to think that the room was altogether too wretched for such a grand bed. So he took out the paper again: 'Lars, my lad!' 'What are master's orders?' 'Since you are able to get me such food and such a bed here in the midst of the wild forest, I suppose you can manage to get me a better room, for you see I am accustomed to sleep in a palace, with golden mirrors and draped walls and ornaments and comforts of all kinds,' he said. Well, he had no sooner spoken the words than he found himself lying in the grandest chamber anybody had ever seen. Now he was comfortable, he thought, and felt quite satisfied as he turned his face to the wall and closed his eyes. But that was not all the grandeur; for when he woke up in the morning and looked round, he saw it was a big palace he had been sleeping in. One room led into the other, and wherever he went the place was full of all sorts of finery and luxuries, both on the walls and on the ceilings, and they glittered so much when the sun shone on them that he had to shade his eyes with his hand, so strong was the glare of gold and silver wherever he turned. He then happened to look out of the window. Good gracious! How grand it was! There was something else than pine forests and juniper bushes to look at, for there was the finest garden anyone could wish for, with splendid trees and roses of all kinds. But he could not see a single human being, or even a cat; and that, you know, was rather lonely, for otherwise he had everything so grand and had been set up as his own master again. So he took out the bit of paper: 'Lars, my lad!' 'What are master's orders?' 'Well, now you have given me food and bed and a palace to live in, I intend to remain here, for I like the place,' he said, 'yet I don't like to live quite by myself. I must have both lads and lasses whom I may order about to wait on me,' he said. And there they were. There came servants and stewards and scullery maids and chambermaids of all sorts, and some came bowing and some curtseying. So now the duke thought he was really satisfied. But now it happened that there was a large palace on the other side of the forest, and there the king lived who owned the forest, and the great, big fields around it. As he was walking up and down in his room he happened to look out through the window and saw the new palace, where the golden weathercocks were swinging to and fro on the roof in the sunlight, dazzling his eyes. 'This is very strange,' he thought; and so he called his courtiers. They came rushing in, and began bowing and scraping. 'Do you see the palace over there?' said the king. They opened their eyes and began to stare. Yes, of course, they saw it. 'Who is it that has dared to build such a palace on my grounds?' said the king. They bowed, and they scraped with their feet, but they did not know anything about it. The king then called his generals and captains. They came, stood at attention and presented arms. 'Be gone, soldiers and troopers,' said the king, 'and pull down the palace over there, and hang him who has built it; and don't lose any time about it!' Well, they set off in great haste to arm themselves, and away they went. The drummers beat the skins of their drums, and the trumpeters blew their trumpets, and the other musicians played and blew as best they could, so that the duke heard them long before he could see them. But he had heard this kind of noise before, and knew what it meant, so he took out his scrap of paper: 'Lars, my lad!' 'What are master's orders?' 'There are soldiers coming here,' he said, 'and now you must provide me with soldiers and horses, that I may have double as many as those over in the wood, and with sabers and pistols, and guns and cannons with all that belongs to them; but be quick about it.' And no time was lost; for when the duke looked out, he saw an immense number of soldiers, who were drawn up around the palace. When the king's men arrived, they came to a sudden halt and dared not advance. But the duke was not afraid; he went straight up to the colonel of the king's soldiers and asked him what he wanted. The colonel told him his errand. 'It's of no use,' said the duke. 'You see how many men I have; and if the king will listen to me, we shall become good friends, and I will help him against his enemies, and in such a way that it will be heard of far and wide,' he said. The colonel was of the same opinion, and the duke then invited him and all his soldiers inside the palace, and the men had more than one glass to drink and plenty of everything to eat as well. But while they were eating and drinking they began talking; and the duke then got to hear that the king had a daughter who was his only child, and was so wonderfully fair and beautiful that no one had ever seen her like before. And the more the king's soldiers ate and drank the more they thought she would suit the duke for a wife. And they went on talking so long that the duke at last began to be of the same opinion. 'The worst of it,' said the soldiers, 'is that she is just as proud as she is beautiful, and will never look at a man.' But the duke laughed at this. 'If that's all,' said the duke, 'there's sure to be a remedy for that complaint.' When the soldiers had eaten and drunk as much as they could find room for, they shouted 'Hurrah!' so that it echoed among the hills, and then they set out homeward. But, as you may imagine, they did not walk exactly in parade order, for they were rather unsteady about the knees, and many of them did not carry their guns in regulation manner. The duke asked them to greet the king from him. He would call on him the following day, he said. When the duke was alone again, he began to think of the princess, and to wonder if she were as beautiful and fair as they had made her out to be. He would like to make sure of it; and as so many strange things had happened that day it might not be impossible to find that out as well, he thought. 'Lars, my lad!' 'What are master's orders?' 'Well, now you must bring me the king's daughter as soon as she has gone to sleep,' he said; 'but she must not be awakened either on the way here or back. Do you hear that?' he said. And before long the princess was lying on the bed. She slept so soundly and looked so wonderfully beautiful as she lay there. Yes, she was as sweet as sugar, I can tell you. The duke walked round about her, but she was just as beautiful from whatever point of view he looked at her. The more he looked the more he liked her. 'Lars, my lad!' 'What are master's orders?' 'You must now carry the princess home,' he said, 'for now I know how she looks and tomorrow I will ask for her hand,' he said. Next morning the king looked out of the window. 'I suppose I shall not be troubled with the sight of that palace anymore,' he thought. But, zounds! There it stood just as on the day before, and the sun shone so brightly on the roof, and the weathercocks dazzled his eyes. He now became furious, and called all his men. They came quicker than usual. The courtiers bowed and scraped, and the soldiers stood at attention and presented arms. 'Do you see the palace there?' screamed the king. They stretched their necks, and stared and gaped. Yes, of course, that they did. 'Have I not ordered you to pull down the palace and hang the builder?' he said. Yes, they could not deny that; but then the colonel himself stepped forward and reported what had happened and how many soldiers the duke had, and how wonderfully grand the palace was. And next he told him what the duke had said, and how he had asked him to give his greetings to the king, and all that sort of thing. The king felt quite confused, and had to put his crown on the table and scratch his head. He could not understand all this, although he was a king; for he could take his oath it had all been built in a single night; and if the duke were not the evil one himself, he must in any case have done it by magic. While he sat pondering, the princess came into the room. 'Good morning to you, father!' she said. 'Just fancy, I had such a strange and beautiful dream last night!' she said. 'What did you dream then, my girl?' said the king. 'I dreamed I was in the new palace over yonder, and that I saw a duke there, so fine and handsome that I could never have imagined the like; and now I want to get married, father,' she said. 'Do you want to get married? -- you, who never cared to look at a man! That's very strange!' said the king. 'That may be.' Said the princess; 'but it's different now, and I want to get married, and it's the duke I want,' she said. The king was quite beside himself, so frightened did he become of the duke. But all of a sudden he heard a terrible noise of drums and trumpets and instruments of all kinds; and then came a message that the duke had just arrived with a large company, all of whom were so grandly dressed that gold and silver glistened in every fold. The king put on his crown and his coronation robes, and then went out on the steps to receive them. And the princess was not slow to follow him. The duke bowed most graciously, and the king of course did likewise, and when they had talked awhile about their affairs and their grandeur they became the best of friends. A great banquet was then prepared, and the duke was placed next to the princess at the table. What they talked about is not easy to tell, but the duke spoke so well for himself that the princess could not very well say 'No' to anything he said, and then he went up to the king and asked for her hand. The king could not exactly say 'No' either, for he could very well see that the duke was a person with whom it was best to be on friendly terms; but give his sanction there and then, he could not very well do that either. He wanted to see the duke's palace first, and find out about the state of affairs over there, as you may understand. So it was arranged that he should visit the duke and take the princess with him to see his palace; and with this they parted company. When the duke returned home, Lars became busier than ever, for there was so much to attend to. But he set to work and strove hard; and when the king and his daughter arrived everything was so magnificent and splendid that no words can describe it. They went through all the rooms and looked about, and they found everything as it should be, and even still more splendid, thought the king, and so he was quite pleased. The wedding then took place, and that in grand style; and on the duke's arrival home with his bride he, too, gave a great feast, and then there was an end to the festivities. Some time passed by, and one evening the duke heard these words: 'Are you satisfied now?' It was Lars, as you may guess, but the duke could not see him. 'Well, I ought to be,' said the duke. 'You have provided me with everything I have,' he said. 'Yes, but what have I got in return?' asked Lars. 'Nothing,' said the duke; 'but, bless me, what could I have given you, who are not of flesh and blood, and whom I cannot see either?' he said. 'But if there is anything I can do for you, tell me what it is, and I shall do it.' 'Well, I should like to ask you for that little scrap of paper which you found in the chest,' said Lars. 'Nothing else?' said the duke. 'If such a trifle can help you, I can easily do without it, for now I begin to know the words by heart,' he said. Lars thanked the duke, and asked him to put the paper on the chair in front of the bed when he retired to rest, and he would be sure to fetch it during the night. The duke did as he was told; and so he and the princess lay down and went to sleep. But early in the morning the duke awoke and felt so cold that his teeth chattered, and when he had got his eyes quite open he found that he was quite naked and had not even as much as a thread on his back; and instead of the grand bed and the beautiful bedroom, and the magnificent palace, he lay on the big chest in the old tumble-down hut. He began to shout, 'Lars, my lad!' But he got no answer. He shouted once more, 'Lars, my lad!' But he got no answer this time either. So he shouted all he could, 'Lars, my lad!' But it was all in vain. Now he began to understand how matters stood. When Lars had got the scrap of paper he was freed from service at the same time, and now he had taken everything with him. But there was no help for it. There stood the duke in the old hut quite naked; and as for the princess she was not much better off, although she had her clothes on, for she had got them from her father, so Lars had no power over them. The duke had now to tell the princess everything, and ask her to leave him. He would have to manage as best he could, he said. But she would not hear of it. She well remembered what the parson had said when he married them, and she would never, never leave him, she said. In the meantime the king in his palace had also awakened, and when he looked out of the window he did not see any sign whatever of the other palace where his daughter and son-in-law lived. He became uneasy, as you may imagine, and called his courtiers. They came in, and began to bow and scrape. 'Do you see the palace over yonder behind the forest?' he asked. They stretched their necks and stared with all their might. No, they did not see it. 'Where had it gone to, then?' asked the king. Well, really they did not know. It was not long before the king set out with all his court through the forest; and when he arrived at the place where the palace with the beautiful gardens should have been, he could not see anything but heather and juniper bushes and firs. But then he discovered the old tumble-down hut, which stood there among the bushes. He entered the hut and -- mercy on us! -- what a sight met his eyes! There stood his son-in-law, quite naked, and his daughter, who had not very many clothes on either, and who was crying and moaning. 'Dear, dear! what does all this mean?' said the king; but he did not get any answer, for the duke would rather have died than tell him. The king did his utmost to get him to speak; but in spite of all the king's promises and threats the duke remained obstinate and would not utter a word. The king then became angry; and no wonder, for now he could see that this grand duke was not what he pretended to be, and so he ordered the duke to be hanged, and that without any loss of time. The princess begged and prayed for mercy; but neither prayers nor tears were of any help now; for an impostor he was, and as an impostor he should die, said the king. And so it had to be. They erected a gallows, and placed the rope round the duke's neck. But while they were getting the gallows ready, the princess got hold of the hangman, and gave both him and his assistant some money, that they should so manage the hanging of the duke that he should not lose his life, and in the night they were to cut him down, so that he and the princess might then flee the country. And that's how the matter was arranged. In the meantime they had strung up the duke, and the king and his court and all the people went their way. The duke was now in great straits. He had, however, plenty of time to reflect how foolish he had been in not saving some of the crumbs when he was living in plenty, and how unpardonably stupid he had been in letting Lars have the scrap of paper. This vexed him more than all. If only he had it again, he thought, they should see he had been gaining some sense in return for all he had lost. But it is of little use snarling if you haven't got any teeth. 'Ah, well, well!' he sighed, and so he dangled his legs, which was really all he could do. The day passed slowly and tediously for him, and he was not at all displeased when he saw the sun setting behind the forest. But just before it disappeared he heard a fearful shouting, and when he looked down the hill, he saw seven cartloads of worn-out shoes, and on the top of the hindmost cart he saw a little old man in gray clothes and with a red pointed cap on his head. His face was like that of the worst scarecrow, and the rest of him was not very handsome either. He drove straight up to the gallows, and when he arrived right under it he stopped and looked up at the duke, and then burst out laughing, the ugly old fellow! 'How stupid you were!' he said; 'but what should the fool do with his stupidity if he did not make use of it?' And then he laughed again. 'Yes, there you are hanging now, and here am I carting away all the shoes I have worn out for your whims. I wonder if you can read what is written on this bit of paper, and if you recognize it?' he said with an ugly laugh, holding up the paper before the duke's eyes. But all who hang are not dead, and this time it was Lars who was befooled. The duke made a clutch, and snatched the paper from him. 'Lars, my lad!' 'What are master's orders?' 'Well, you must cut me down from the gallows and put the palace and all the rest in its place again, exactly as it was before, and when the night has set in you must bring back the princess.' All went merrily as in a dance, and before long everything was in its place, just as it was when Lars took himself off. When the king awoke the next morning he looked out of the window, as was his custom, and there stood the palace again, with the weathercocks glittering so beautifully in the sunshine. He called his courtiers, and they came and began to bow and scrape. They stretched their necks as far as they could, and stared and gaped. 'Do you see the palace over there?' said the king. Yes, of course, they did. The king then sent for the princess, but she was not to be found. He then went out to see if his son-in-law was still hanging on the gallows, but neither son-in-law nor gallows was to be seen. He had to lift off his crown and scratch his head. But that did not improve matters; he could not make head or tail of either one thing or the other. He set off at once with all his court through the forest, and when he came to the place where the palace should stand, there it stood sure enough. The gardens and the roses were exactly as they used to be, and the duke's people were to be seen everywhere among the trees. His son-in-law and his daughter received him on the steps, dressed in their finest clothes. 'Well, I never saw the like of this,' said the king to himself; he could scarcely believe his own eyes, so wonderful did it all seem to him. 'God's peace be with you, father, and welcome here!' said the duke. The king stood staring at him. 'Are you my son-in-law?' he asked. 'Well, I suppose I am,' said the duke. 'Who else should I be?' 'Did I not order you to be hanged yesterday like any common thief?' said the king. 'I think you must have been bewitched on the way,' said the duke, with a laugh. 'Do you think I am the man to let myself be hanged? Or is there anyone here who dares to believe it?' he said, and looked so fiercely at the courtiers that they felt as if they were being pierced through and through. They bowed and scraped and cringed before him. Who could believe such a thing? Was it at all likely? 'Well, if there is anyone who dares to say the king could have wished me such evil, let him speak out,' said the duke, and fixed his eyes upon them still more fiercely than before. They went on bowing and scraping and cringing. How could anyone dare say such a thing? No, they had more sense than that, they should hope. The king did not know what to believe, for when he looked at the duke he thought he never could have wished him such evil; but still he was not quite convinced. 'Did I not come here yesterday, and was not the whole palace gone, and was there not an old hut in its place? And did not I go into that hut, and did not you stand stark naked right before my eyes?' he asked. 'I wonder the king can talk so,' said the duke. 'I think the trolls must have bewitched your eyes in the forest and made you quite crazy; or what do you think?' he said, and turned round to the courtiers. They bowed and bowed till their backs were bent double, and agreed with everything he said, there could be no mistake about that. The king rubbed his eyes, and looked round about him. 'I suppose it is as you say, then,' he said to the duke, 'and it is well I have got back my proper sight and have come to my senses again. For it would have been a sin and a shame if I had let you be hanged,' he said; and so he was happy again, and nobody thought any more about the matter. 'Once bitten, twice shy,' as the proverb says; and the duke now took upon himself to manage and look after most of his affairs, so that it was seldom Lars had to wear out his shoes. The king soon gave the duke half the kingdom into the bargain; so he had now plenty to do, and people said they would have to search a long time to find his equal in wise and just ruling. Then one day Lars came to the duke, looking very little better than the first time he had seen him; but he was, of course, more humble, and did not dare giggle and make grimaces. 'You do not want my help any longer, now,' he said; 'for although I did wear out my shoes at first, I am now unable to wear out a single pair, and my feet will soon be covered all over with moss. So I thought I might now get my leave of absence,' he said. The duke quite agreed with him. 'I have tried to spare you, and I almost think I could do without you,' he said. 'But the palace and all the rest I do not want to lose, for such a clever builder as you I shall never get again; nor do I ever want to adorn the gallows again, as you can well understand; so I cannot give you back the paper on any account,' he said. 'Well, as long as you have got it, I need not fear,' said Lars; 'but if anybody else should get hold of it there will be nothing but running and trudging about again, and that's what I want to avoid; for when one has been tramping about for a thousand years, as I have done, one begins to get tired of it,' he said. But they went on talking, and at last they agreed that the duke should put the paper in the box, and then bury it seven ells under the ground, under a stone fixed in the earth. They then gave mutual thanks for the time they had spent in each other's company, and so they parted. The duke carried out his part of the agreement, for he was not likely to want to change it. He lived happy and contented with the princess, and they had both sons and daughters. When the king died, he got the whole of the kingdom, and you may guess he was none the worse off for that; and there no doubt he still lives and reigns, if he is not dead. But as for the box with the scrap of paper in it, there are many who are still running about looking for it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,Sir Buzz,India,NA,NA,"'Mother,' said the son, 'give me four shillings, and I will go seek my fortune in the wide world.' 'Alas!' answered the mother, 'and where am I, who haven't a farthing wherewith to buy bread, to find four shillings?' 'There is that old coat of my father's,' returned the lad. 'Look in the pocket -- perchance there is something there.' So she looked, and behold! there were six shillings hidden away at the very bottom of the pocket! 'More than I bargained for,' quoth the lad, laughing. 'See, mother, these two shillings are for you. You can live on that till I return; the rest will pay my way until I find my fortune.' So he set off to find his fortune, and on the way lie saw a tigress, licking her paw, and moaning mournfully. He was just about to run away from the terrible creature, when she called to him faintly, saying, 'Good lad, if you will take out this thorn for me, I shall be forever grateful.' 'Not I!' answered the lad. 'Why, if I begin to pull it out, and it pains you, you will kill me with a pat of your paw.' 'No, no!' cried the tigress, 'I will turn my face to this tree, and when the pain comes I will pat it.' To this the soldier's son agreed; so he pulled out the thorn, and when the pain came the tigress gave the tree such a blow that the trunk split all to pieces. Then she turned towards the soldier's son, and said gratefully, 'Take this box as a reward, my son, but do not open it until you have traveled nine miles.' So the soldier's son thanked the tigress, and set off with the box to find his fortune. Now when he had gone five miles, he felt certain that the box weighed more than it had at first, and every step he took it seemed to grow heavier and heavier. He tried to struggle on -- though it was all he could do to carry the box -- until he had gone about eight miles and a quarter, when his patience gave way. 'I believe that tigress was a witch, and is playing off her tricks upon me,' he cried, 'but I will stand this nonsense no longer. Lie there, you wretched old box! Heaven knows what is in you, and I don't care.' So saying, he flung the box down on the ground. It burst open with the shock, and out stepped a little old man. He was only one span high, but his beard was a span and a quarter long, and trailed upon the ground. The little manikin immediately began to stamp about and scold the lad roundly for letting the box down so violently. 'Upon my word!' quoth the soldier's son, scarcely able to restrain a smile at the ridiculous little figure, ' but you are weighty for your size, old gentleman! And what may your name be?' 'Sir Buzz!' snapped the one-span manikin, still stamping about in a great rage. 'Upon my word!' quoth the soldier's son once more, 'if you are all the box contained, I am glad I didn't trouble to carry it farther.' 'That's not polite,' snarled the manikin. 'Perhaps if you had carried it the full nine miles you might have found something better; but that's neither here nor there. I'm good enough for you, at any rate, and will serve you faithfully according to my mistress's orders.' 'Serve me! Then I wish to goodness you'd serve me with some dinner, for I am mighty hungry! Here are four shillings to pay for it.' No sooner had the soldier's son said this and given the money, than with a whiz! boom! bing! like a big bee, Sir Buzz flew through the air to a confectioner's shop in the nearest town. There he stood, the one-span manikin, with the span and a quarter beard trailing on the ground, just by the big preserving pan, and cried in ever so loud a voice, 'Ho! ho! Sir Confectioner, bring me sweets!' The confectioner looked round the shop, and out of the door, and down the street, but could see no one, for tiny Sir Buzz was quite hidden by the preserving pan. Then the manikin called out louder still, ' Ho! ho! Sir Confectioner, bring me sweets! ' And when the confectioner looked in vain for his customer, Sir Buzz grew angry, and ran and pinched him on the legs, and kicked him on the foot, saying, ' Impudent knave! do you mean to say you can't see me? Why, I was standing by the preserving pan all the time!' The confectioner apologized humbly, and hurried away to bring out his best sweets for his irritable little customer. Then Sir Buzz chose about a hundredweight of them, and said, 'Quick, tie them up in something and give them into my hand; I'll carry them home.' 'They will be a good weight, sir,' smiled the confectioner. 'What business is that of yours, I should like to know?' snapped Sir Buzz. 'Just you do as you're told, and here is your money.' So saying he jingled the four shillings in his pocket. 'As you please, sir,' replied the man cheerfully, as he tied up the sweets into a huge bundle and placed it on the little manikin's outstretched hand, fully expecting him to sink under the weight; when lo! with a boom! bing! he whizzed off with the money still in his pocket. He alighted at a corn-chandler's shop, and, standing behind a basket of flour, called out at the top of his voice, 'Ho! ho! Sir Chandler, bring me flour!' And when the corn-chandler looked round the shop, and out of the window, and down the street, without seeing anybody, the one-span manikin, with his beard trailing on the ground, cried again louder than before, 'Ho! ho! Sir Chandler, bring me flour!' Then on receiving no answer, he flew into a violent rage, and ran and bit the unfortunate corn-chandler on the leg, pinched him, and kicked him, saying, 'Impudent varlet! Don't pretend you couldn't see me! Why, I was standing close beside you behind that basket!' So the corn-chandler apologized humbly for his mistake, and asked Sir Buzz how much flour he wanted. 'Two hundredweight,' replied the manikin. 'Two hundredweight, neither more nor less. Tie it up in a bundle, and I'll take it with me.' 'Your honor has a cart or beast of burden with you, doubtless?' said the chandler, 'for two hundredweight is a heavy load.' 'What's that to you? ' shrieked Sir Buzz, stamping his foot, ' isn't it enough if I pay for it? ' And then he jingled the money in his pocket again. So the corn-chandler tied up the flour in a bundle, and placed it in the manikin's outstretched hand, fully expecting it would crush him, when, with a whiz! Sir Buzz flew off, with the shillings still in his pocket. Boom! bing! boom! The soldier's son was just wondering what had become of his one-span servant, when, with a whir! the little fellow alighted beside him, and wiping his face with his handkerchief, as if he were dreadfully hot and tired, said thoughtfully, 'Now I do hope I've brought enough, but you men have such terrible appetites!' 'More than enough, I should say,' laughed the lad, looking at the huge bundles. Then Sir Buzz cooked the girdle-cakes, and the soldier's son ate three of them and a handful of sweets; but the one-span manikin gobbled up all the rest, saying at each mouthful, 'You men have such terrible appetites -- such terrible appetites!' After that, the soldier's son and his servant Sir Buzz traveled ever so far, until they came to the king's city. Now the king had a daughter called Princess Blossom, who was so lovely, and tender, and slim, and fair, that she only weighed five flowers. Every morning she was weighed in golden scales, and the scale always turned when the fifth flower was put in, neither less nor more. Now it so happened that the soldier's son by chance caught a glimpse of the lovely, tender, slim, and fair Princess Blossom, and, of course, he fell desperately in love with her. He would neither sleep nor eat his dinner, and did nothing all day long but say to his faithful manikin, 'Oh, dearest Sir Buzz! oh, kind Sir Buzz! -- carry me to the Princess Blossom, that I may see and speak to her.' 'Carry you!' snapped the little fellow scornfully. 'That's a likely story! Why, you're ten times as big as I am. You should carry me!' Nevertheless, when the soldier's son begged and prayed, growing pale and pining away with thinking of the Princess Blossom, Sir Buzz, who had a kind heart, was moved, and bade the lad sit on his hand. Then with a tremendous boom! bing! boom! they whizzed away and were in the palace in a second. Being nighttime, the Princess was asleep; nevertheless the booming wakened her and she was quite frightened to see a handsome young man kneeling beside her. She began of course to scream, but stopped at once when the soldier's son with the greatest politeness, and in the most elegant of language, begged her not to be alarmed. And after that they talked together about everything delightful, while Sir Buzz stood at the door and did sentry; but he stood a brick up on end first, so that he might not seem to pry upon the young people. Now when the dawn was just breaking, the soldier's son and Princess Blossom, wearied of talking, fell asleep; whereupon Sir Buzz, being a faithful servant, said to himself, 'Now what is to be done? If my master remains here asleep, someone will discover him, and he will be killed as sure as my name is Buzz; but if I wake him, ten to one he will refuse to go.' So without more ado he put his hand under the bed, and bing! boom! carried it into a large garden outside the town. There he set it down in the shade of the biggest tree, and pulling up the next biggest one by the roots, threw it over his shoulder, and marched up and down keeping guard. Before long the whole town was in a commotion, because the Princess Blossom had been carried off, and all the world and his wife turned out to look for her. By and by the one-eyed chief constable came to the garden gate. 'What do you want here?' cried valiant Sir Buzz, making passes at him with the tree. The chief constable with his one eye could see nothing save the branches, but he replied sturdily, 'I want the Princess Blossom!' 'I'll blossom you! Get out of my garden, will you?' shrieked the one-span manikin, with his one and quarter span beard trailing on the ground; and with that he belabored the constable's pony so hard with the tree that it bolted away, nearly throwing its rider. The poor man went straight to the king, saying, ' Your majesty! I am convinced your majesty's daughter, the Princess Blossom, is in your majesty's garden, just outside the town, as there is a tree there which fights terribly.' Upon this the king summoned all his horses and men, and going to the garden tried to get in; but Sir Buzz behind the tree routed them all, for half were killed, and the rest ran away. The noise of the battle, however, awoke the young couple, and as they were now convinced they could no longer exist apart, they determined to fly together. So when the fight was over, the soldier's son, the Princess Blossom, and Sir Buzz set out to see the world. Now the soldier's son was so enchanted with his good luck in winning the princess, that he said to Sir Buzz, ' My fortune is made already; so I shan't want you anymore, and you can go back to your mistress.' 'Pooh!' said Sir Buzz. 'Young people always think so; however, have it your own way, only take this hair out of my beard, and if you should get into trouble, just burn it in the fire. I'll come to your aid.' So Sir Buzz boomed off, and the soldier's son and the Princess Blossom lived and traveled together very happily, until at last they lost their way in a forest, and wandered about for some time without any food. When they were nearly starving, a Brahman found them, and hearing their story said, 'Alas! you poor children! Come home with me, and I will give you something to eat.' Now had he said, 'I will eat you,' it would have been much nearer the mark, for he was no Brahman, but a dreadful vampire, who loved to devour handsome young men and slender girls. But, knowing nothing of all this, the couple went home with him quite cheerfully. He was most polite, and when they arrived at his house, said, 'Please get ready whatever you want to eat, for I have no cook. Here are my keys; open all my cupboards save the one with the golden key. Meanwhile I will go and gather firewood.' Then the Princess Blossom began to prepare the food, while the soldier's son opened all the cupboards. In them he saw lovely jewels, and dresses, and cups and platters, such bags of gold and silver, that his curiosity got the better of his discretion, and, regardless of the Brahman's warning, he said, 'I will see what wonderful thing is hidden in the cupboard with the golden key.' So he opened it, and lo! it was full of human skulls, picked quite clean, and beautifully polished. At this dreadful sight the soldier's son flew back to the Princess Blossom, and said, 'We are lost! we are lost! This is no Brahman, but a horrid vampire!' At that moment they heard him at the door, and the princess, who was very brave and kept her wits about her, had barely time to thrust the magic hair into the fire, before the vampire, with sharp teeth and fierce eyes, appeared. But at the selfsame moment a boom! boom! binging noise was heard in the air, coming nearer and nearer. Whereupon the vampire, who knew very well who his enemy was, changed into a heavy rain pouring down in torrents, hoping thus to drown Sir Buzz, but he changed into the storm wind beating back the rain. Then the vampire changed to a dove, but Sir Buzz, pursuing it as a hawk, pressed it so hard that it had barely time to change into a rose, and drop into King Indra's lap as he sat in his celestial court listening to the singing of some dancing girls. Then Sir Buzz, quick as thought, changed into an old musician, and standing beside the bard who was thrumming the guitar, said, 'Brother, you are tired; let me play.' And he played so wonderfully, and sang with such piercing sweetness, that King Indra said, 'What shall I give you as a reward? Name what you please, and it shall be yours.' Then Sir Buzz said, ' I only ask the rose that is in your Majesty's lap.' 'I had rather you asked more, or less,' replied king Indra. 'It is but a rose, yet it fell from heaven; nevertheless it is yours.' So saying, he threw the rose towards the musician, and lo! the petals fell in a shower on the ground. Sir Buzz went down on his knees and instantly gathered them up; but one petal escaping, changed into a mouse. Whereupon Sir Buzz, with the speed of lightning, turned into a cat, which caught and gobbled up the mouse. Now all this time the Princess Blossom and the soldier's son, shivering and shaking, were awaiting the issue of the combat in the vampire's hut; when suddenly, with a bing! boom! Sir Buzz arrived victorious, shook his head, and said, 'You two had better go home, for you are not fit to take care of yourselves.' Then he gathered together all the jewels and gold in one hand, placed the Princess and the soldier's son in the other, and whizzed away home, to where the poor mother -- who all this time had been living on the two shillings -- was delighted to see them. Then with a louder boom! bing! boom! than usual, Sir Buzz, without even waiting for thanks, whizzed out of sight, and was never seen or heard of again. But the soldier's son and the Princess Blossom lived happily ever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,The Blue Light,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a soldier who had served the king loyally for many long years. When the war was over and the soldier could no longer serve because of the many wounds he had received, the king said to him, 'You can go home now. I no longer need you. There will be no more money for you, because wages are only for those who earn them.' Because the soldier did not know how he could earn a living, he sadly walked the whole day long, until he came to a forest in the evening. As darkness fell he saw a light. He approached it and came to a little house, where a witch lived. 'Give me a night's shelter and a little to eat and drink,' he said to her, 'otherwise I will perish.' 'Oho!' she answered. 'Who gives anything to a runaway soldier? But I will have pity and take you in after all, if you will do what I ask of you.' 'What do you want?' asked the soldier. 'For you to dig up my garden tomorrow.' The soldier agreed, and the next day he worked with all his might, but could not finish before evening. 'I see,' said the witch, 'that you can do no more work today. I will take you in for one more night if tomorrow you will cut up and split a stack of wood for me.' The soldier took the entire day to do this, and that evening the witch proposed that he remain a third night. 'Tomorrow I have only a small task for you. Behind my house there is a dry well into which my light has fallen. It burns blue and never goes out. I want you to get it for me.' The next day the old woman led him to the well and lowered him down it in a basket. He found the blue light and gave a sign that she should pull him up again. And she did pull him up, but when he was close to the edge, she wanted to take the blue light from him. 'No,' he said, sensing her evil thoughts, 'I shall not give you the light until I am standing on the ground with both feet.' Then the witch became furious, let him fall back into the well, and walked away. The poor soldier fell to the damp floor without being injured. The blue light continued to burn, but how could that help him? He saw that would not be able to escape death. He sadly sat there for a while. Then he happened to reach into his pocket and found his tobacco pipe, which was still half full. 'This will be your last pleasure,' he thought, pulled it out, lit it with the blue light, and began to smoke. After the fumes had wafted about the cavern, suddenly there stood before him a little black dwarf, who said, 'Master, what do you command?' 'Why should I command you?' replied the bewildered soldier. 'I must do everything that you demand,' said the dwarf.' 'Good,' said the soldier, 'then first help me out of this well.' The dwarf took him by the hand and led him through an underground passage, and he did not forget to take the blue light with him. Along the way he showed him the treasures that the witch had collected and hidden there, and the soldier took as much gold as he could carry. When he was above ground, he said to the dwarf, 'Now go and bind the old witch and take her to the judge.' Not long afterward she came riding by on a tomcat as fast as the wind and screaming horribly. And not long after that the dwarf was back. 'It is all taken care of,' he said. 'The witch is hanging on the gallows. Master, what do you command now?' 'Nothing at the moment,' answered the soldier. 'You can go home, but be ready when I call you.' 'It is only necessary,' said the dwarf, 'for you to light your pipe with the blue light, and I will be with you.' With that he disappeared before his very eyes. The soldier returned to the city from which he had come. He moved into the best inn and had beautiful clothes made for himself. Then he told the innkeeper to furnish his room as luxuriously as possible. When it was finished he summoned the black dwarf and said, 'I served the king loyally, but he sent me away to starve. For this I now want revenge.' 'What am I to do?' asked the little man. 'Late this evening, when the king's daughter is lying in bed, bring her here to me in her sleep. She shall do maid service for me.' The dwarf said, 'That is an easy thing for me, but a dangerous thing for you. If you are found out, it will not go well for you.' At the strike of twelve the door opened, and the dwarf carried the king's daughter in. 'Aha, is that you?' cried the soldier. 'Get to work now! Go fetch the broom and sweep the room.' When she was finished he called her to his chair, stuck his feet out at her, and said, 'Pull off my boots,' then threw them in her face, and she had to pick them up and clean them and make them shine. She did everything that he ordered her to do, without resisting, silently, and with half-closed eyes. At the first cock's crow, the dwarf carried her to the royal palace and back to her bed. The next morning, after the king's daughter had gotten up, she went to her father and told him that she had had an amazing dream. 'I was carried away through the streets as fast as lightning and taken to a soldier's room. I had to serve as his maid and wait on him and do common work, sweep the room, and clean his boots. It was only a dream, but still I am as tired as if I had really done it all.' 'The dream could have been true,' said the king. 'I will give you some advice. Fill your pocket with peas, then make a small hole in your pocket. If you are carried away again, they will fall out and leave a track on the street.' As the king was thus speaking, the dwarf was invisibly standing nearby and heard everything. That night when he once again carried the sleeping princess through the streets, a few peas did indeed fall out of her pocket, but they did not leave a track, because the cunning dwarf had already scattered peas in all the streets. And once again the king's daughter had to do maid service until the cock crowed. The next morning the king sent his people out to look for the track, but it was to no end, for in all the streets there were poor children gathering peas and saying, 'Last night it rained peas.' 'We must think of something else,' said the king. 'Leave your shoes on when you go to bed, and before you return from there, hide one of them. I will be sure to find it.' The black dwarf overheard this proposal, and that evening when the soldier again wanted the king's daughter brought to him, the dwarf advised him against this, saying that he had no way to protect him against such trickery. If the shoe were to be found in his room, it would not go well with him. 'Do what I tell you,' replied the soldier, and for a third night the king's daughter had to work like a maid. But before she was carried back, she hid a shoe under the bed. The next morning the king had the entire city searched for the shoe, and it was found in the soldier's room. The soldier himself, following the little man's request, was already outside the city gate, but they soon overtook him and threw him into prison. In his haste, he had forgotten to take along his most valuable things: the blue light and the gold. He had only one ducat in his pocket. Standing at the window of his prison and weighted down with chains, he saw one of his comrades walking by. He knocked on the glass, and as he walked by, he said, 'Be so good and bring me the little bundle that I left at the inn. I'll give you a ducat for it.' The comrade ran forth and brought back the desired things. As soon as the soldier was alone again, he lit his pipe and summoned the black dwarf. 'Have no fear,' he said to his master. 'Just go where they lead you, and let everything happen, but take the blue light with you.' The next day the soldier was tried, and although he had done nothing wrong, the judge still sentenced him to death. As he was being led out, he asked the king for one last wish. 'What sort of a wish?' asked the king. 'That I might smoke one more pipe on the way.' 'You can smoke three,' answered the king, 'but do not think that I will let you live.' Then the soldier pulled out his pipe and lit it with the blue light. As soon as a few rings of smoke had risen, the dwarf was standing there. He had a cudgel in his hand and said, 'What does my master command?' 'Strike the false judges and their henchmen to the ground for me. And don't spare the king either, who has treated me so badly.' Then the dwarf took off like lightning, zip-zap, back and forth, and everyone he even touched with his cudgel fell to the ground and did not dare to move. The king became afraid. He begged for mercy, and in order to save his life, he gave to the soldier his kingdom as well as his daughter for a wife.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,The Deserter with the Tinderbox,Austria,NA,NA,"'You,' she said, 'come with me.' She led him to a hollow tree, a thick one. 'Climb this tree,' she said. 'Higher up there is a hole. Climb down into it. At the bottom you'll find a room where a dog is sitting on a chest. You must pick him up and set him on the floor. You can take as much money as you want from the chest, but then set the dog back where you found him. On the table there is a tinderbox. Put it in your pocket as well.' He did what she had told him to do and climbed down into the hole. Entering the room, he saw the dog seated on the chest. Its eyes were as large as a fist. 'See here,' said the soldier, 'you are a good fellow. You won't do anything to me!' He lifted the dog into his arms then set him on the floor. He opened the chest, which was filled with copper coins, and he filled his pockets with them. Then he closed the chest and set the dog back on it. He went into the second room, where there also was a light burning. He again saw a dog sitting on a chest, as in the first room, and this dog had eyes just as large as the first one. 'See here,' he said, 'you won't do anything to me. The first one didn't do anything to me.' He picked this one up as well and set him down away from the chest. He opened it, and it was filled with silver coins. He emptied out his pockets and filled them with the silver coins. Then he closed the chest and put the dog back on it. Then he went into the third room. There a dog was sitting on a chest as well, and he was as large as the first two. 'Oh,' said the soldier, 'I see that you three are good comrades. You won't do anything to me either.' He picked him up and set him on the floor. This chest was filled with gold ducats. He emptied out the silver coins and filled his pockets with ducats. Then he picked up the dog, placed him back on the chest, then returned to the tree. When he had climbed halfway up, the old woman asked, 'Do you have the tinderbox?' So he climbed back down, for he had left the tinderbox in the third room where he had filled his pockets with ducats. It was there on the table, and he put it into his pocket. He made his way back up the tree to the outside, but the old woman had disappeared. He never saw her again. He came to an inn where a baptism was being celebrated. There he took off his uniform and bought civilians' clothes for himself. He lived very well. He traveled about for nearly an entire year, finally coming to a royal city. There he took quarters in an inn. Gradually he spent all the money that he had. He owed large sum to the innkeeper. One night at bedtime he had nothing to strike a light with. There was usually something at hand, but not this time. He picked up the tinderbox, and struck one spark, when suddenly the three dogs appeared in his room. 'What is your wish?' they all three asked. 'Oh, I no longer have any money. Could you kindly bring me a chestful? 'You can always have as much money as you want from us,' said the dogs, and disappeared. Thus he outfitted himself as a cavalier. One day he was out walking when the princess came riding by in her carriage. That evening he struck a spark with his tinderbox, and the three dogs appeared. 'Give us a command!' they said. 'Bring the princess to me in her sleep!' In an instant she was there in his bed, and the dogs disappeared. Before daybreak he called the three dogs with his tinderbox, and they carried the princess back to her own bed. And thus he had her brought to him every night for two weeks. Then she said to her father, the king, 'For two weeks now I have been with this man every night at the inn.' The king summoned the soldier and asked the princess if he were the man. She said, 'Yes, he's the one.' 'How can you take my child to bed with you every night?' asked the king. 'Because she gives me pleasure,' said the soldier. The king had him thrown into prison, where he stayed for eight days with only bread and water. He was sentenced to die on the gallows. On the ninth day he was brought to a room in the castle where he was put on display for three days. Unfortunately he did not have his tinderbox with him, so he could not help himself. Happily, on the second day a servant from the inn where he had been sleeping came to get a look at him. The soldier said to him, 'You, bring my tinderbox to me. It is in the pocket of the coat hanging on the wall.' The servant returned with the tinderbox, and the soldier said to him, 'You can have the chest filled with gold and everything else that is in the room.' On the third day the king called up three hundred men who surrounded the soldier then took him to the gallows. Arriving there, the soldier said to the king, 'Every condemned person is granted three last wishes.' Then he reached into his pocket and rubbed against the tinderbox. The three dogs were suddenly there. The soldier said, 'Take them and tear them apart.' And they tore the three hundred soldiers to pieces. The king begged for mercy, asking the soldier to spare him. He said, 'I give you my princess in marriage, and you can become king as well.' Three days later they celebrated their wedding, and the three dogs sat at the table next to the soldier. Each of the dogs had a napkin, a fork, and a knife, just like the humans. After the meal the three dogs told him to call on them whenever he might need them. Then they disappeared. They were always available to him and helped him both in war and in peace.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,The Giants and the Tinderbox,Germany,NA,NA,"Thus she lowered the apprentice into the shaft in a basket. Inside the shaft were a copper passageway, a silver passageway, and a connecting tunnel. A table stood in the connecting tunnel, and seated on the table was a fellow with claws on his fingers and on his feet. In front of him there was a tinderbox. The fellow gave the tinderbox to the cobbler's apprentice, as well as copper, silver, and gold. The apprentice then had the witch pull him back up. He gave the copper to the witch, but kept the silver, gold, and the tinderbox for himself. He went on his way, and with the gold and silver he was suddenly a wealthy man. Whenever he struck a light with the tinderbox two giants appeared before him and said, 'What is my lord's command?' With time he came to the royal city, and one night he struck a light with the tinderbox. When the two giants appeared and asked, 'What is my lord's command?' he answered, 'I want you to bring me the princess in her bed.' Not long afterward they brought the princess in her bed to the apprentice. From that time onward the same thing happened every night. When the king learned from the princess what was happening to her in the night, he commanded that a loosely bound bag of peas be fastened beneath her bed. By following the peas that fell out, one could discover where the princess was being taken each night. However, underway the giants noticed the bag of peas, and after they had brought the princess back to her room, they gathered up all the peas, so that no one could see where she had been. They did the same thing the next night when the king had a loosely bound bag of lentils fastened beneath her bed, and not a single lentil remained in the street. The next night when the giants brought the princess's bed to the apprentice, they said sadly, 'My lord, your last hour has struck. The king had a cow's bladder filled with blood fastened under the princess's bed, and we giants are not able to wipe up the blood that dripped out of the cow's bladder. In the morning the king will learn where the princess has been during the night, and he will have you executed.' Indeed, the next morning soldiers forced their way into the apprentice's room and took him prisoner. A golden scaffold was constructed on which he was to die. However, before he lay his head on the scaffold, he asked to be permitted to smoke one last pipeful of tobacco before his end. This wish was granted him, and he pulled the tinderbox from his pocket and struck a flame. The two giants appeared immediately, asking, 'What is my lord's command?' He commanded them to capture the king and throw him into prison. And thus the cobbler's apprentice at once became king. He had the old king beheaded and married the princess.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,The Iron Man,Germany,NA,NA,"Once he had to pass through a great forest, for at that time there were many large forests. He lost his way and had to eat roots and berries until finally he came to a charcoal burner who took him in and friendlily gave him shelter. The soldier liked it there in the solitude, and he and the charcoal burner became right good friends. He carried wood for the charcoal burner and helped him with everything he had to do. In the twilight of evening they both complained about their sorrows and told one another about their past. One day the charcoal burner said, 'Listen, friend, you are daring and brave. You can bring good fortune to both of us if you will only follow my advice. Not far from here there is a deep shaft where enormous treasures are buried. Are you willing to let me lower you down on a rope? Just bring me a bundle of candles; you can keep everything else that you bring up. You'll see that we shall have enough.' The soldier immediately agreed. The following morning the charcoal burner took a long rope, and they both went to the shaft. One, two, three, the soldier had the rope around his body, and the charcoal burner lowered him into the hole. Down at the bottom the soldier undid the rope, struck a light, and found a tunnel, which he followed until he came to an iron door that was closed with many bars. He opened it and entered a large hall that was entirely illuminated by a silver chandelier. It was as bright as day. In the middle a large iron man was seated on a throne with three chests standing nearby. However, they were locked shut. Above the door was hanging the bundle of candles. First of all the soldier reached for the candles; the man saw this, but did not move. Then the soldier went to one of the chests, which earlier had not been open, and behold, it was filled with shiny silver coins. He quickly filled his pockets. Then the second chest sprang open, and the most beautiful and largest gold pieces shone forth. He threw the silver coins back into their chest and filled his pockets with gold. He was scarcely finished when the third chest opened itself, in which the most valuable precious stones and pearls were glistening. He set the gold aside and filled his pockets with pearls and diamonds. The man did not move. The soldier left, and the iron man did not move. At the shaft the soldier tied the rope around his body again, then tugged, and he was pulled up. Above he gave the charcoal burner the candles and showed him his treasures. Both were delighted, and they retired. The next morning the charcoal burner was dead. What was the soldier to do? He took his treasures, including the candles, and with his staff in hand went forth into the wide world. He soon came out of the forest, then made his way to a large city where for a long time he lived gloriously and happily, thinking that his riches would have no end. But they did come to an end, and he did not have even enough money to buy oil for his lamp. Then he thought of the candles that he had brought from the shaft. He took one of them, lit it, and in that instant the iron man stood before him, asking him what he should do. The soldier now knew how things stood, and he told him to bring him a sack full of gold. In an instant he had the gold, the candle went out, and the man had disappeared. Now he had whatever he needed, and when anything was gone the iron man had to come and bring something new. From there the soldier traveled to the city where the king lived, whom he had served. Here he heard that the king's daughter was wonderfully beautiful, but that no one was allowed to see her. Having nothing better to do, and already leading an elegant life, the idea came to him that he wanted to see the princess. Therefore one evening at ten o'clock he lit his candle. The iron man entered his door and asked what he wished. 'Bring the king's daughter from the castle here to me.' The mighty servant disappeared, and a short time later was back with the princess. Now the soldier made the daughter pay for what her father had done to him. She had to wait on him, clean his boots, sweep the floors, etc. In short, she had to do the duties of an ordinary maid. The next morning before daybreak the iron man carried her back to her bedroom in the castle. When she awoke she went to her father and told him that she did not know if it had actually happened, or if she had only dreamed that she had been taken to a soldier's room and been forced to serve him. Looking at his daughter, the king saw a black spot on her face. Then he perceived that it could have been so, and said that this evening she should put a piece of chalk in her pocket, and that she should draw a line and a cross on the front door of the house where she was taken, so that they would be able to find the house again. This she did. However, the iron man noticed, and drew a line and a cross on every front door in the city. The next morning she again told her father what had happened to her. The king ordered his people to find the house where a line and a cross had been drawn. They returned without success, because this sign was on every house. The king became angry and ordered his soldiers to encircle the entire castle so that not even a mouse could enter or leave. And he posted a strong guard before his daughter's bedroom door. But nonetheless that evening she was taken away again, for no one could see the iron man. The next morning she again told of her experience, and that she had received a rough slap from the soldier that evening. The finger marks could still be seen on her cheek. This was too much for the king, and he quietly said into his daughter's ear, making three crosses at the same time, that this evening she should put on his gold ring and put it under the soldier's bed. This she did. 'Oh,' she said the next morning. 'Last night he soldier beat me terribly because I refused to serve him properly.' Then the king ordered that every house in the city be searched for the soldier and the hidden ring. When they found the ring under a bed they were to bring the man who owned the bed to him. Before long the ring was found in the soldier's room, for he had not noticed that the princess had hidden it. Our soldier was condemned to the gallows, and his execution day was set. He had three days to prepare for his death. During this time he had the opportunity to send a messenger to his home for the candles. The messenger brought them, and now the iron man had to come and rescue the soldier. The iron man said, 'Wait until you are standing on the board beneath the gallows. Then you can have one last wish that will have to be granted to you. You have your candle; light it and I'll be there. I will do what I have to do. No one I touch will ever again have a headache.' And that is what happened. The soldier was happy and cheerful, which caused the prison guard to wonder more than a little. He ate and drank and slept so peacefully, as though he did not know that he was about to die. When he was finally standing on the board, and the hangman was about to tie the latest fashion in neckties on him, the soldier said, 'Wait, it's not yet time for that. I still have a request that you will surely grant me.' 'Yes,' said the king, who had also come with his daughter, so that she could see what would happen to the scoundrel who had so abused her. 'Yes, the request shall be granted to you, if it is not an unreasonable one.' 'I only want to light my candle and see it burning one more time.' 'That can happen,' said the king. So the candle was lit, and immediately the iron man was there with a thick cudgel. He first struck the hangman dead and then the people standing nearby, mowing them down viciously. The king took fright as the iron man moved closer and closer with his cudgel. He called out to the soldier, asking him to order the iron man to stop, and promising that soldier that he could have the princess as a wife. With that the soldier blew out the candle, and the iron man disappeared. The soldier received his wife, and now had the unlimited respect of everyone, even his father-in-law. And if the king ever resisted, the soldier had only to say, 'So, should the iron man come?' Then everything happened that the soldier wanted. He later became king, and in times of war or great need he now and then called on the iron man, who always helped him. However, when the solder died, the candles disappeared as well.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,The Soldier and the Tinderbox,Germany,NA,NA,"Then a little black dwarf approached him and asked him what was wrong: 'Why are you so sad?' 'Oh,' said the soldier, 'why shouldn't I be sad? During the war everything was all right. I had plenty of money and wine, but now I'm suffering from hunger and thirst. My clothes are in shreds, and my spirit is broken.' The dwarf encouraged him, saying, 'Just follow this path and you'll come to an enchanted castle guarded by many wild animals. There is a large stone in front of the castle. Sit down on it, and the animals will begin to roar fiercely, but just sit there quietly until the bell strikes twelve, and the animals will fall asleep. Then go into the castle, and you can take enough money to last a lifetime; but you must return before the bell strikes one, or things will go very badly for you.' The soldier thanked the dwarf and went down the path that he had shown him. Arriving at the castle, he sat down on the stone, and the wild animals on guard began to roar fiercely. The soldier ignored them and sat there quietly until twelve o'clock when the animals fell asleep. Then he went into the castle. He came first to a beautiful room filled with copper coins. A sleeping giant was lying there. The soldier filled his pockets and was about to leave when he noticed a second door. Opening it, he went into a second room that was even more beautiful than the first one. On the floor lay a large pile of silver coins, nothing but shining thalers. A giant was lying there as well, snoring. The soldier quickly threw away the copper coins and filled his pockets with the silver ones, thinking, 'Now you have enough money to last a lifetime. You'd better turn around.' But then he saw a third door, opened it, and looked inside. It was good that he did so, for there he saw a great pile of pure gold. A giant was lying there as well, fast asleep and snoring. He quickly threw away the silver coins and packed away as much gold as he could carry. He was about to leave when he saw a fourth door. He opened it and went inside the fourth and last room. It was more beautiful than even the most beautiful room in the king's palace. There was no money there, but the table was set with wine and roasts. It smelled delicious, and the plates, knives, and forks were made of pure gold. He sat down and treated his hungry stomach to a feast, drinking as much wine as he wanted. Now it was time for him to turn back. A pipe and tobacco pouch were hanging on the wall, and a tinderbox lay on the table. He pocketed these items as well, for he was a great friend of smoking. Then he made haste to leave the castle before his time was up. And he just made it, for the bell struck one as he arrived at the large stone. The wild animals awoke and began to roar fiercely. The soldier made his way onward with his riches, safely coming out of the woods, and finally arriving at the city where the king held court. He asked which was the best inn, then went inside and ordered a room. Because he was so tattered and dirty the innkeeper took him to the servants' quarters. 'These are miserable accommodations,' said the soldier. 'Bring me some wine!' The innkeeper fetched a bottle of the worst kind, thinking that it would be good enough for such a tramp, but the soldier, who had drunk the finest wine in the enchanted castle, knew full well how good wine should taste. He sampled the wine, pulled a face, and cried out, 'Bah! This wine is not drinkable! Bring a better one!' The innkeeper calmed himself and brought a wine of medium quality, but the soldier, after sampling it, again cried out, 'Bah! Bring a better one, no matter what it costs! Here is the money!' With that he threw a few cold coins onto the table. Seeing this, the innkeeper suddenly became very polite and brought a bottle of his best wine. 'So!' said the soldier. 'I can drink this one. Now bring me to better quarters and get me out of this miserable hole.' The innkeeper, bowing deeply, took him to the best room in the inn. 'Now,' said the soldier, 'bring a merchant to me who can buy clothes, horses, and a carriage for me.' The merchant arrived. 'Listen up,' said the soldier. 'I want clothing as good as what the king wears, and three coaches, each with six horses: six black, six white, and six brown.' 'That is all well and good,' said the merchant, 'but may I ask how you are going to pay for everything?' 'Here is your money,' said the soldier, reaching into his pocket. He threw a few handfuls of gold pieces onto the table, and the merchant left, bowing deeply. In short order the merchant provided everything that the soldier had requested. The soldier now lived in the greatest luxury. Every afternoon he drove in his coach through the city and past the king's palace. Now the king had three daughters, and every day they saw the soldier driving by in his elegant clothes and beautiful coach. The oldest one said, 'For sure he is a wealthy prince. I would like to invite him here as a guest.' She sent a servant to the inn with an invitation for the soldier. He came, bringing with him a bag filled with gold pieces. After dinner they played cards, and the soldier had such bad luck that he lost all the money that he had brought with him. The next evening the second princess invited him, and once again he was unlucky at cards, losing all the money that he had brought with him. On the third evening he was invited to visit the youngest and most beautiful princess. He wanted very much to go, but having no more money, he sold his coaches and horses. He received a good sum for them, and with this he went to the princess. After dinner they played cards, and the soldier again lost all his money. Now he was as poor as he had been when he left the army and had made his way through the world as a beggar. Out of sorts and frustrated, he returned to his inn and went to bed. He could not close his eyes, and he tossed and turned from one side to the other. Finally, unable to stay in bed any longer, he got up and paced back and forth in his room. He suddenly remembered the pipe and the tinderbox that he had brought from the enchanted castle. Finding no peace from his unhappy thoughts, he decided to distract himself by smoking his pipe. He picked up the tinderbox and struck a few sparks. At the first blow a huge, all-powerful giant stood before him, one of the three that had been guarding the money in the enchanted castle. 'What is my lord's command?' asked the giant. 'Bring me a bagful of gold!' said the soldier. He had scarcely uttered these words when the giant disappeared, then returned with a large bag filled with gold. 'So!' said the soldier, 'Now bring the youngest princess to me.' The giant disappeared, then returned with the princess in her bed. After kissing her passionately, the soldier had the giant carry her away. The next morning the princess said to her mother, 'Oh, mother dear, I thought that a giant carried me in my bed to a handsome prince, who then kissed me.' 'My dear child,' said the mother, 'that was only a dream. Don't think anymore about it.' The next evening the soldier again took the tinderbox and struck a flame. The giant appeared immediately and asked, 'What is my lord's command?' 'Bring the princess to me,' said the soldier. The giant disappeared and brought her in her bed. After the soldier once again had kissed her passionately, he had the giant carry her away. The next morning the princess said to her mother, 'Oh, mother dear, last night the same thing happened as the night before. A giant carried me to a handsome prince, who then kissed me.' 'My dear child,' said the mother, 'that was only a dream. Don't think anymore about it.' However, the queen thought it was unusual that the girl should have the same dream two nights in a row. Wanting to know if there might be some truth to the matter, she sewed up a bag, filled it with peas, then cut a small hole in it so that the peas could slowly spill out, then hung the bag on the princess's bed. That night the giant once again carried the princess away, but without his noticing, the peas spilled out along the entire way. When the queen looked in the next morning she could see that her daughter's dreams were not unfounded. The scattered peas revealed to her the path that the giant had taken, and they led to the soldier's door at the inn. She took the innkeeper aside and asked him who the guest was, what his standing was, and where he came from. The innkeeper answered that he himself did not know for sure, but that it must be a discharged soldier who had suddenly come into a lot of money. When he had first arrived he had worn a dirty soldier's uniform. The queen ran and fetched a guard, who captured the soldier before he realized what was happening. They locked him up in a secure prison tower. The king, learning what had happened, sentenced the soldier to death. Now the soldier would have been able to free himself easily, if he only had had his tinderbox, but in his haste he had left it lying at the inn. He was to be executed the next day. That morning, before daybreak, he sat sadly before the prison bars. Looking out onto the street he saw the innkeeper's servant girl, who had just fetched milk. He called to her and promised her a lot of money if she would bring the tinderbox to him that he had forgotten in his room. The girl did indeed run and get it for him. The soldier struck fire, and immediately the giant stood before him. 'What is my lord's command?' asked the giant. 'Free me from this prison,' said the soldier. With that the giant disappeared, then returned with his two comrades. They broke down the walls, and the soldier walked away safely. Then the giants said, 'We have served you well, now you can do us the favor of redeeming us. A sword is hanging on the wall of the enchanted castle's first room. With this you must cut off our heads and those of the wild animals, and that will end our enchantment.' 'Yes,' said the soldier, 'as difficult as that will be for me to do to you who have served me so well, if it must be done, I will do it willingly. But as a final act you must bring the youngest princess to me, for I cannot live without her.' The giants disappeared, then brought her to him. The soldier took her with him to the enchanted castle. Once again he sat down on the large stone until the bell struck twelve. Then he went into the castle, found the sword, and struck off the heads of the giants and the wild animals guarding the castle. Suddenly the most beautiful music sounded forth and a swarm of happy people advanced. They paid homage to him as their king. Soon afterward the soldier married his beautiful princess.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,The Three Dogs,"Germany, Georg Schambach and Wilhelm Müller",NA,NA,"'Oh yes,' she answered. 'Bring me the tinderbox which is there. I forgot it.' The soldier went to the tree and climbed down inside it. Below there stood a large chest, and sitting on it was a dog who had eyes in his head that were as large as saucers. A second chest was also there, and on it sat a dog with eyes as large as plates, and a third chest was there with eyes as large as serving platters. With no further ado the soldier set all three dogs onto the old apron and opened the chests. In the first one was copper money, in the second one silver money, and in the third one minted gold. From this chest he took as much as he could carry, not forgetting to pick up the tinderbox as well. Then he climbed out of the hollow tree and went on his way. Not long afterward he again met the old woman, who asked him for the tinderbox, but he did not want to give it to her. They began quarreling over it, and the soldier struck the old woman dead. He now had money enough and was able to live well, but he spent so much that it soon came to an end. With time his many friends abandoned him, until at last he was living desolate and alone. One day he wanted to light a pipe, and for this he used the tinderbox, which he had long forgotten. He suddenly discovered what the tinderbox was good for. The three dogs immediately appeared and asked him what he wished. He told them to bring him some money. Less than a half hour later the dogs returned with a large sum of money. Now he was once again wealthy, and thought he would like to marry the princess, who lived in the city. But he did not know where to begin, because he was not at all handsome. Then he called his dogs and asked them if they knew how to make it happen. 'We can do that,' replied the dogs, and ran away. That evening all three went to the castle and brought the princess on their backs to the soldier. Afterward they took her back to the castle in the same way. The next morning the princess told about this, as though it had been a dream. However, the king was concerned and posted guards outside her bedroom door. When the dogs returned the next night the guards were asleep, so the dogs took the princess with them again. However, one soldier saw them, followed them, and drew a mark on the house that they ran into. But the dogs observed this, and they drew marks on all the houses, so that no one could know where the princess had been. On the third evening the dogs fetched the princess again. This time the soldier scattered peas in front of the house, but the dogs gathered up all the peas. On the fourth day the soldier himself went to the king and asked for his daughter's hand in marriage, but the king had him thrown into prison. Now he was lost, for he did not have his tinderbox with him, and was not able to call the dogs. He thought long and hard how he might escape, but nothing came to him. Then a boy walked beneath his window, and the soldier asked him to do him a favor, the last one, because in only a few days he was to die. The boy was willing. He asked him to fetch the tinderbox that was in his room, and described exactly where it was. The boy soon returned with the tinderbox, and the soldier pulled it up to his barred window with a string. 'Now everything is all right,' he thought. Later when he was standing at the place of execution he asked permission to smoke one last time, and this was granted him. He had scarcely struck a light when the three dogs arrived. He said to them, 'Attack!' and they tore apart the judges and the king. Then the soldier married the princess. He lived very happily with her, and if they have not died then they are still alive.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,The Tinderbox,"Denmark, Hans Christian Andersen",NA,NA,"She said, 'Good evening, soldier! What a nice sword you've got, and such a big knapsack; you are a real soldier! You shall have as much money as ever you like!' 'Thank you kindly, you old witch!' said the soldier. 'Do you see that big tree!' said the witch, pointing to a tree close by. 'It is hollow inside! Climb up to the top and you will see a hole into which you can let yourself down, right down under the tree! I will tie a rope round your waist so that I can haul you up again when you call!' 'What am I to do down under the tree?' asked the soldier. 'Fetch money!' said the witch. 'You must know that when you get down to the bottom of the tree you will find yourself in a wide passage; it's quite light there, for there are over a hundred blazing lamps. You will see three doors which you can open, for the keys are there. If you go into the first room you will see a big box in the middle of the floor. A dog is sitting on the top of it, and he has eyes as big as saucers, but you needn't mind that. I will give you my blue checked apron, which you can spread out on the floor; then go quickly forward, take up the dog and put him on my apron, open the box and take out as much money as ever you like. It is all copper, but if you like silver better, go into the next room. There you will find a dog with eyes as big as millstones; but never mind that, put him on my apron and take the money. If you prefer gold you can have it too, and as much as you can carry, if you go into the third room. But the dog sitting on that box has eyes each as big as the Round Tower. He is a dog, indeed, as you may imagine! But don't let it trouble you; you only have to put him on to my apron and then he won't hurt you, and you can take as much gold out of the box as you like!' 'That's not so bad!' said the soldier. 'But what am I to give you, old witch? For you'll want something, I'll be bound.' 'No,' said the witch, 'not a single penny do I want; I only want you to bring me an old tinderbox that my grandmother forgot the last time she was down there!' 'Well! tie the rope round my waist!' said the soldier. 'Here it is,' said the witch, 'and here is my blue-checked apron.' Then the soldier climbed up the tree, let himself slide down the hollow trunk, and found himself, as the witch had said, in the wide passage where the many hundred lamps were burning. Now he opened the first door. Ugh! There sat the dog with eyes as big as saucers staring at him. 'You are a nice fellow!' said the soldier, as he put him on to the witch's apron, and took out as many pennies as he could cram into his pockets. Then he shut the box, and put the dog on the top of it again, and went into the next room. Hallo! there sat the dog with eyes as big as millstones. 'You shouldn't stare at me so hard; you might get a pain in your eyes!' Then he put the dog on the apron, but when he saw all the silver in the box he threw away all the coppers and stuffed his pockets and his knapsack with silver. Then he went on into the third room. Oh! how horrible! that dog really had two eyes as big as the Round Tower, and they rolled round and round like wheels. 'Good evening!' said the soldier, saluting, for he had never seen such a dog in his life; but after looking at him for a bit he thought, 'That will do,' and then he lifted him down on to the apron and opened the chest. Preserve us! What a lot of gold! He could buy the whole of Copenhagen with it, and all the sugar pigs from the cake-women, all the tin soldiers, whips and rocking-horses in the world! That was money indeed! Now the soldier threw away all the silver he had filled his pockets and his knapsack with, and put gold in its place. Yes, he crammed all his pockets, his knapsack, his cap and his boots so full that he could hardly walk! Now, he really had got a lot of money. He put the dog back on to the box, shut the door, and shouted up through the tree, ' Haul me up, you old witch!' 'Have you got the tinderbox?' 'Oh! to be sure!' said the soldier. 'I had quite forgotten it.' And he went, back to fetch it. The witch hauled him up, and there he was standing on the high road again with his pockets, boots, knapsack and cap full of gold. 'What do you want the tinderbox for?' asked the soldier. 'That's no business of yours,' said the witch. 'You've got the money; give me the tinderbox!' 'Rubbish!' said the soldier. 'Tell me directly what you want with it, or I will draw my sword and cut off your head.' 'I won't!' said the witch. Then the soldier cut off her head; there she lay! But he tied all the money up in her apron, slung it on his back like a pack, put the tinderbox in his pocket, and marched off to the town. It was a beautiful town, and he went straight to the finest hotel, ordered the grandest rooms and all the food he liked best, because he was a rich man now that he had so much money. Certainly the servant who had to clean his boots thought they were very funny old things for such a rich gentleman, but he had not had time yet to buy any new ones; the next day he bought new boots and fine clothes. The soldier now became a fine gentleman, and the people told him all about the grand things in the town, and about their king, and what a lovely princess his daughter was. 'Where is she to be seen?' asked the soldier. 'You can't see her at all! ' they all said. 'She lives in a great copper castle surrounded with walls and towers. Nobody but the king dare go in and out, for it has been prophesied that she will marry a common soldier, and the king doesn't like that!' 'I should like to see her well enough!' thought the soldier. But there was no way of getting leave for that. He now led a very merry life; went to theaters, drove about in the King's Park, and gave away a lot of money to poor people, which was very nice of him; for he remembered how disagreeable it used to be not to have a penny in his jpocket. Now he was rich, wore fine cloth, and had a great many friends, who all said what a nice fellow he was -- a thorough gentleman -- and he liked to be told that. But as he went on spending money every day and his store was never renewed, he at last found himself with only two pence left. Then he was obliged to move out of his fine rooms. He had to take a tiny little attic up under the roof, clean his own boots, and mend them himself with a darning needle. None of his friends went to see him, because there were far too many stairs. One dark evening when he had not even enough money to buy a candle with, he suddenly remembered that there was a little bit in the old tinderbox he had brought out of the hollow tree, when the witch helped him down. He got out the tinderbox with the candle end in it and struck fire, but as the sparks flew out from the flint the door burst open and the dog with eyes as big as saucers, which he had seen down under the tree, stood before him and said, ' What does my lord command?' 'By heaven!' said the soldier, 'this is a nice kind of tinderbox, if I can get whatever I want like this! Get me some money,' he said to the dog, and away it went. It was back in a twinkling with a big bag full of pennies in its mouth. Now the soldier saw what a treasure he had in the tinderbox. If he struck once, the dog which sat on the box of copper came; if he struck twice, the dog on the silver box came, and if he struck three times, the one from the box of gold. He now moved down to the grand rooms and got his fine clothes again, and then all his friends knew him once more and liked him as much as ever. Then he suddenly began to think: After all it's a curious thing that no man can get a sight of the princess! Everyone says she is so beautiful! But what is the good of that, when she always has to be shut up in that big copper palace with all the towers. Can I not somehow manage to see her? Where is my tinderbox? Then he struck the flint, and, whisk, came the dog with eyes as big as saucers. 'It certainly is the middle of the night,' said the soldier, 'but I am very anxious to see the princess, if only for a single moment.' The dog was out of the door in an instant, and before the soldier had time to think about it, he was back again with the princess. There she was fast asleep on the dog's back, and she was so lovely that anybody could see that she must be a real princess! The soldier could not help it, but he was obliged to kiss her, for he was a true soldier. Then the dog ran back again with the princess, but in the morning when the king and queen were having breakfast, the princess said that she had had such a wonderful dream about a dog and a soldier. She had ridden on the dog's back, and the soldier had kissed her. 'That's a pretty tale,' said the queen. After this an old lady-in-waiting had to sit by her bed at night to see if this was really a dream, or what it could be. The soldier longed so intensely to see the princess again that at night the dog came to fetch her. He took her up and ran off with her as fast as he could, but the old lady-in-waiting put on her galoshes and ran just as fast behind them; when she saw that they disappeared into a large house, she thought, 'Now I know where it is,' and made a big cross with chalk on the gate. Then she went home and lay down, and presently the dog came back, too, with the princess. When he saw that there was a cross on the gate, he took a bit of chalk, too, and made crosses on all the gates in the town. Now this was very clever of him, for the lady-in-waiting could not possibly find the gate when there were crosses on all the gates. Early next morning the king, the queen, the lady-in-waiting, and all the court officials went to see where the princess had been. 'There it is,' said the king, when he saw the first door with the cross on it. 'No, my dear husband, it is there,' said the queen, who saw another door with a cross on it. 'But there is one, and there is another!' they all cried out. They soon saw that it was hopeless to try and find it. Now the queen was a very clever woman; she knew more than how to drive in a chariot. She took her big gold scissors and cut up a large piece of silk into small pieces, and made a pretty little bag, which she filled with fine grains of buckwheat. She then tied it onto the back of the princess, and when that was done she cut a little hole in the bag, so that the grains could drop out all the way wherever the princess went. At night the dog came again, took the princess on his back, and ran off with her to the soldier, who was so fond of her that he longed to be a prince, so that he might have her for his wife. The dog never noticed how the grain dropped out all along the road from the palace to the soldier's window, where he ran up the wall with the princess. In the morning the king and the queen easily saw where their daughter had been, and they seized the soldier and threw him into the dungeons. There he lay! Oh, how dark and tiresome it was, and then one day they said to him, 'Tomorrow you are to be hanged.' It was not amusing to be told that, especially as he had left his tinderbox behind him at the hotel. In the morning he could see through the bars in the little window that the people were hurrying out of the town to see him hanged. He heard the drums and saw the soldiers marching along. All the world was going; among them was a shoemaker's boy in his leather apron and slippers. He was in such a hurry that he lost one of his slippers, and it fell close under the soldier's window where he was peeping out through the bars. 'I say, you boy! Don't be in such a hurry,' said the soldier to him. 'Nothing will happen till I get there! But if you will run to the house were I used to live, and fetch me my tinderbox, you shall have a penny! You must put your best foot foremost!' The boy was only too glad to have the penny, and tore off to get the tinderbox, gave it to the soldier, and -- yes, now we shall hear. Outside the town a high scaffold had been raised, and the soldiers were drawn up round about it, as well as crowds of the townspeople. The king and the queen sat upon a beautiful throne exactly opposite the judge and all the councillors. The soldier mounted the ladder, but when they were about to put the rope round his neck, he said that before undergoing his punishment a criminal was always allowd the gratification of a harmless wish, and he wanted very much to smoke a pipe, as it would be his last pipe in this world. The king would not deny him this, so the soldier took out his tinderbox and struck fire, once, twice, three times, and there were all the dogs. The one with eyes like saucers, the one with eyes like millstones, and the one whose eyes were as big as the Round Tower. 'Help me! Save me from being hanged!' cried the soldier. And then the dogs rushed at the soldiers and the councillors; they took one by the legs, and another by the nose, and threw them up many fathoms into the air; and when they fell down, they were broken all to pieces. 'I won't!' cried the king, but the biggest dog took both him and the queen and threw them after all the others. Then the soldiers became alarmed, and the people shouted, 'Oh! good soldier, you shall be our king and marry the beautiful princess!' Then they conducted the soldier to the king's chariot, and all three dogs danced along in front of him and shouted, 'Hurrah!' The boys all put their fingers in their mouths and whistled, and the soldiers presented arms. The princess came out of the copper palace and became queen, which pleased her very much. The wedding took place in a week, and the dogs all had seats at the table, where they sat staring with all their eyes.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
562,The Transverse Flute,Germany,NA,NA,"This saddened Hans, for he had no desire to get married. The father became angry and said, 'Why are you making such a sour face?' Hans replied, 'I don't want to get married. I won't even think of it.' 'Why not?' asked the father angrily. 'Didn't I get married, and didn't it serve me well?' 'I believe you,' answered the son, 'but you had my blessed mother. Do you want me to live with a total stranger?' Whatever the father said, he could not talk Hans into getting married, so he himself fetched a new wife into the household. This was a great misfortune for Hans, for when the stepmother gave birth to her own son, she succeeded in sowing discord between Hans and his father, until finally Hans was forced to leave home. He took a sausage from the smoking rack, cut a sturdy stick from his father's bush, then wandered off into the wide world. Toward evening he came into a large forest, lost his way, and was in great distress. He heard a rustling in the brush and a gray dwarf stepped forward, saying, 'I'm hungry. Give me something to eat!' Hans reached into his pocket, pulled out the sausage, and gave it to the dwarf. Then the dwarf reached into his pocket, pulled out a transverse flute, then gave it to Hans, saying, 'If you are in need, just blow!' With that the dwarf disappeared. Has was tired, so he lay down in the grass and fell asleep. The next morning he wandered further, and when he became hungry he blew on the flute. Two large wolfhounds suddenly appeared; the one had a sausage in his mouth, the other a loaf of bread. Hans ate until he was full, then wandered onward. Toward evening a wolf approached him and threatened to tear him apart. Hans blew on his flute and the dogs suddenly appeared and tore the wolf apart. The next day he again blew on the flute when he was hungry, and the dogs brought him bread and sausage. The same thing happened on the third day. And, when a bear attacked him toward evening on the second day, he blew on the flute, and the dogs appeared and tore the bear apart. Toward evening on the third day he came to a cave. A cannibal woman lived there with her son. Hans asked them for shelter, which they gladly offered him, for they intended to strangle him in the night, and then eat him. Time went by slowly for him, but that night when they came into his room to kill him, he blew on his flute. The dogs appeared and tore the cannibal and her son to pieces. When Hans awoke the next morning he found himself in the middle of a large city. during the night the dogs had carried him there. The innkeeper came to him and said, 'Have you heard the news? Last night the dragon carried the princess away. Whoever can rescue her can have her and become king.' Hans went out and followed the dragon's tracks. Before long he found himself back in the great forest. The dragon was lying beneath a large oak tree, and the princess was petting his head. Hans pulled the princess away. The dragon woke up and attempted to eat Hans. He blew on his flute. The dogs appeared and tore the dragon apart. Hans took the princess to her father, who said to him, 'Do you want her?' 'Yes,' said Hans. 'She looks like my mother, only younger and more noble. Therefore I would like her.' Then they married and lived many years together in peace and joy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
312,Blue-Beard,"North Carolina, USA","Parsons' source: Lulu Young, about 25. Parsons' note concerning the quality of these orally collected tales: 'In the following collection we see the art of the folktale in its last stage of disintegration. The tale is cut down or badly told or half forgotten.' (pp. 168-69)","Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Tales from Guilford County, North Carolina,' Journal of American Folklore, vol. 30, no. 116 (April-June, 1917), p. 183.","He had a big basket he car'ed on his back. He'd go to people's house an' beg fur something to eat; an' when de pretty girls would come out an' gi' him something to eat, he grabbed 'em in the basket an' run away wi' them. He had a fine large place he car'ed 'em to -- to his kingdom. He gi' 'em de keys. He tol' 'em everything there belonged to them but one room. 'Don't go in there.' He tol' 'em the day they went in that room, they would be put to death. Married seven times, an' all was sisters. The seven wife one day, when he was gone away, she taken the keys an' looks in dat room. Finds all her sisters dead in there in a pile. She is so excited, she dropped the keys an' got them bloody. So he come back an' call for his keys. She kep' them hid from him for several days, didn' want him to see 'em. At las' she brought them out an' give them to him. He tol' her to say a prayer. She prayed seven times. An' her seven brothers came jus' as he went to kill her. An' he ran away into the woods, an' never been seen since. Carolina,' Journal of American Folklore, vol. 30, no. 116 (April-June, 1917), p. 183. Parsons' note concerning the quality of these orally collected tales: 'In the following collection we see the art of the folktale in its last stage of disintegration. The tale is cut down or badly told or half forgotten.' (pp. 168-69)",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
312,Bluebeard,Charles Perrault,"Lang's source: Charles Perrault, Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye (Paris, 1697). Link to Perrault's tale in the original French: 'La Barbe Bleuë,' Perrault's Popular Tales, edited from the original editions, with introduction, etc. by Andrew Lang (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1888), pp. 23-29. Aarne-Thompson type 312.","Andrew Lang, The Blue Fairy Book, 5th edition (London and New York: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1891), pp. 290-95. First published 1889.","There was once a man who had fine houses, both in town and country, a deal of silver and gold plate, embroidered furniture, and coaches gilded all over with gold. But this man was so unlucky as to have a blue beard, which made him so frightfully ugly that all the women and girls ran away from him. One of his neighbors, a lady of quality, had two daughters who were perfect beauties. He desired of her one of them in marriage, leaving to her choice which of the two she would bestow on him. Neither of them would have him, and they sent him backwards and forwards from one to the other, not being able to bear the thoughts of marrying a man who had a blue beard. Adding to their disgust and aversion was the fact that he already had been married to several wives, and nobody knew what had become of them. Bluebeard, to engage their affection, took them, with their mother and three or four ladies of their acquaintance, with other young people of the neighborhood, to one of his country houses, where they stayed a whole week. The time was filled with parties, hunting, fishing, dancing, mirth, and feasting. Nobody went to bed, but all passed the night in rallying and joking with each other. In short, everything succeeded so well that the youngest daughter began to think that the man's beard was not so very blue after all, and that he was a mighty civil gentleman. As soon as they returned home, the marriage was concluded. About a month afterwards, Bluebeard told his wife that he was obliged to take a country journey for six weeks at least, about affairs of very great consequence. He desired her to divert herself in his absence, to send for her friends and acquaintances, to take them into the country, if she pleased, and to make good cheer wherever she was. 'Here,' said he,' are the keys to the two great wardrobes, wherein I have my best furniture. These are to my silver and gold plate, which is not everyday in use. These open my strongboxes, which hold my money, both gold and silver; these my caskets of jewels. And this is the master key to all my apartments. But as for this little one here, it is the key to the closet at the end of the great hall on the ground floor. Open them all; go into each and every one of them, except that little closet, which I forbid you, and forbid it in such a manner that, if you happen to open it, you may expect my just anger and resentment.' She promised to observe, very exactly, whatever he had ordered. Then he, after having embraced her, got into his coach and proceeded on his journey. Her neighbors and good friends did not wait to be sent for by the newly married lady. They were impatient to see all the rich furniture of her house, and had not dared to come while her husband was there, because of his blue beard, which frightened them. They ran through all the rooms, closets, and wardrobes, which were all so fine and rich that they seemed to surpass one another. After that, they went up into the two great rooms, which contained the best and richest furniture. They could not sufficiently admire the number and beauty of the tapestry, beds, couches, cabinets, stands, tables, and looking glasses, in which you might see yourself from head to foot; some of them were framed with glass, others with silver, plain and gilded, the finest and most magnificent that they had ever seen. They ceased not to extol and envy the happiness of their friend, who in the meantime in no way diverted herself in looking upon all these rich things, because of the impatience she had to go and open the closet on the ground floor. She was so much pressed by her curiosity that, without considering that it was very uncivil for her to leave her company, she went down a little back staircase, and with such excessive haste that she nearly fell and broke her neck. Having come to the closet door, she made a stop for some time, thinking about her husband's orders, and considering what unhappiness might attend her if she was disobedient; but the temptation was so strong that she could not overcome it. She then took the little key, and opened it, trembling. At first she could not see anything plainly, because the windows were shut. After some moments she began to perceive that the floor was all covered over with clotted blood, on which lay the bodies of several dead women, ranged against the walls. (These were all the wives whom Bluebeard had married and murdered, one after another.) She thought she should have died for fear, and the key, which she, pulled out of the lock, fell out of her hand. After having somewhat recovered her surprise, she picked up the key, locked the door, and went upstairs into her chamber to recover; but she could not, so much was she frightened. Having observed that the key to the closet was stained with blood, she tried two or three times to wipe it off; but the blood would not come out; in vain did she wash it, and even rub it with soap and sand. The blood still remained, for the key was magical and she could never make it quite clean; when the blood was gone off from one side, it came again on the other. Bluebeard returned from his journey the same evening, saying that he had received letters upon the road, informing him that the affair he went about had concluded to his advantage. His wife did all she could to convince him that she was extremely happy about his speedy return. The next morning he asked her for the keys, which she gave him, but with such a trembling hand that he easily guessed what had happened. 'What!' said he, 'is not the key of my closet among the rest?' 'I must,' said she, 'have left it upstairs upon the table.' 'Fail not,' said Bluebeard, 'to bring it to me at once.' After several goings backwards and forwards, she was forced to bring him the key. Bluebeard, having very attentively considered it, said to his wife, 'Why is there blood on the key?' 'I do not know,' cried the poor woman, paler than death. 'You do not know!' replied Bluebeard. 'I very well know. You went into the closet, did you not? Very well, madam; you shall go back, and take your place among the ladies you saw there.' Upon this she threw herself at her husband's feet, and begged his pardon with all the signs of a true repentance, vowing that she would never more be disobedient. She would have melted a rock, so beautiful and sorrowful was she; but Bluebeard had a heart harder than any rock! 'You must die, madam,' said he, 'at once.' 'Since I must die,' answered she (looking upon him with her eyes all bathed in tears), 'give me some little time to say my prayers.' 'I give you,' replied Bluebeard, 'half a quarter of an hour, but not one moment more.' When she was alone she called out to her sister, and said to her, 'Sister Anne' (for that was her name), 'go up, I beg you, to the top of the tower, and look if my brothers are not coming. They promised me that they would come today, and if you see them, give them a sign to make haste.' Her sister Anne went up to the top of the tower, and the poor afflicted wife cried out from time to time, 'Anne, sister Anne, do you see anyone coming?' And sister Anne said, 'I see nothing but a cloud of dust in the sun, and the green grass.' In the meanwhile Bluebeard, holding a great saber in his hand, cried out as loud as he could bawl to his wife, 'Come down instantly, or I shall come up to you.' 'One moment longer, if you please,' said his wife; and then she cried out very softly, 'Anne, sister Anne, do you see anybody coming?' And sister Anne answered, 'I see nothing but a cloud of dust in the sun, and the green grass.' 'Come down quickly,' cried Bluebeard, 'or I will come up to you.' 'I am coming,' answered his wife; and then she cried, 'Anne, sister Anne, do you not see anyone coming?' 'I see,' replied sister Anne, 'a great cloud of dust approaching us.' 'Are they my brothers?' 'Alas, no my dear sister, I see a flock of sheep.' 'Will you not come down?' cried Bluebeard. 'One moment longer,' said his wife, and then she cried out, 'Anne, sister Anne, do you see nobody coming?' 'I see,' said she, 'two horsemen, but they are still a great way off.' 'God be praised,' replied the poor wife joyfully. 'They are my brothers. I will make them a sign, as well as I can for them to make haste.' Then Bluebeard bawled out so loud that he made the whole house tremble. The distressed wife came down, and threw herself at his feet, all in tears, with her hair about her shoulders. 'This means nothing,' said Bluebeard. 'You must die!' Then, taking hold of her hair with one hand, and lifting up the sword with the other, he prepared to strike off her head. The poor lady, turning about to him, and looking at him with dying eyes, desired him to afford her one little moment to recollect herself. 'No, no,' said he, 'commend yourself to God,' and was just ready to strike. At this very instant there was such a loud knocking at the gate that Bluebeard made a sudden stop. The gate was opened, and two horsemen entered. Drawing their swords, they ran directly to Bluebeard. He knew them to be his wife's brothers, one a dragoon, the other a musketeer; so that he ran away immediately to save himself; but the two brothers pursued and overtook him before he could get to the steps of the porch. Then they ran their swords through his body and left him dead. The poor wife was almost as dead as her husband, and had not strength enough to rise and welcome her brothers. Bluebeard had no heirs, and so his wife became mistress of all his estate. She made use of one part of it to marry her sister Anne to a young gentleman who had loved her a long while; another part to buy captains' commissions for her brothers, and the rest to marry herself to a very worthy gentleman, who made her forget the ill time she had passed with Bluebeard. Moral: Curiosity, in spite of its appeal, often leads to deep regret. To the displeasure of many a maiden, its enjoyment is short lived. Once satisfied, it ceases to exist, and always costs dearly. Another moral: Apply logic to this grim story, and you will ascertain that it took place many years ago. No husband of our age would be so terrible as to demand the impossible of his wife, nor would he be such a jealous malcontent. For, whatever the color of her husband's beard, the wife of today will let him know who the master is.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
312,Don Firriulieddu,Italy,Type 312.,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 76, pp. 241-42.","Once upon a time there was a farmer who had a daughter who used to take his dinner to him in the fields. One day he said to her, 'So that you may find me I will sprinkle bran along the way. You follow the bran, and you will come to me.' By chance the old ogre passed that way, and seeing the bran, said, 'This means something.' So he took the bran and scattered it so that it led to his own house. When the daughter set out to take her father his dinner, she followed the bran until she came to the ogre's house. When the ogre saw the young girl, he said, 'You must be my wife.' Then she began to weep. When the father saw that his daughter did not appear, he went home in the evening, and began to search for her, and not finding her, he asked God to give him a son or a daughter. A year after, he had a son whom they called Don Firriulieddu. When the child was three days old it spoke, and said, 'Have you made me a cloak? Now give me a little dog and the cloak, for I must look for my sister.' So he set out and went to seek his sister. After a while he came to a plain where he saw a number of men, and asked, 'Whose cattle are these?' The herdsman replied, 'They belong to the ogre, who fears neither God nor the saints, who fears Don Firriulieddu, who is three days old, and is on the way, and gives his dog bread and says, 'Eat, my dog, and do not bark, for we have fine things to do.'' Afterwards he saw a flock of sheep, and asked, 'Whose are these sheep?' and received the same answer as from the herdsman. Then he arrived at the ogre's house and knocked, and his sister opened the door and saw the child. 'Who are you looking for?' she said. 'I am looking for you, for I am your brother, and you must return to mamma.' When the ogre heard that Don Firriulieddu was there, he went and hid himself upstairs. Don Firriulieddu asked his sister, 'Where is the ogre?' 'Upstairs.' Don Firriulieddu said to his dog, 'Go upstairs and bark, and I will follow you.' The dog went up and barked, and Firriulieddu followed him, and killed the ogre. Then he took his sister and a quantity of money, and they went home to their mother, and are all contented. Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
312,King,Germany,Type 312.,"Ernst Meier, 'König Blaubart,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 38, pp. 134-37.","Next to a great forest there lived an old man who had three sons and two daughters. Once they were sitting together thinking of nothing when a splendid carriage suddenly drove up and stopped in front of their house. A dignified gentleman climbed from the carriage, entered the house, and engaged the father and his daughters in conversation. Because he especially liked the youngest one, he asked the father if he would not give her to him to be his wife. This seemed to the father to be a good marriage, and he had long desired to see his daughters taken care of while he was still alive. However, the daughter could not bring herself to say yes, for the strange knight had an entirely blue beard, which caused her to shudder with fear whenever she looked at him. She went to her brothers, who were valiant knights, and asked them for advice. The brothers thought that she should accept Bluebeard, and they gave her a little whistle, saying, 'If you are ever threatened, just blow this whistle, and we will come to your aid!' Thus she let herself be talked into becoming the strange man's wife, but she did arrange for her sister to accompany her when King Bluebeard took her to his castle. When the young wife arrived there, there was great joy throughout the entire castle, and King Bluebeard was very happy as well. This continued for about four weeks, and then he said that he was going on a journey. He turned all the keys of the castle over to his wife, saying, 'You may go anywhere in the castle, unlock everything, and look at anything you want to, except for one door, to which this little golden key belongs. If you value your life, you are not allowed to open it!' 'Oh no!' she said, adding that she surely would not open that door. But after the king had been away for a while, she could find no rest for constantly thinking about what there might be in the forbidden chamber. She was just about to unlock it when her sister approached her and held her back. However, on the morning of the fourth day, she could no longer resist the temptation, and taking the key she secretly crept to the room, stuck the key into the lock, and opened the door. Horrified, she saw that the entire room was filled with corpses, all of them women. She wanted to slam the door shut immediately, but the key fell out and into the blood. She quickly picked it up, but it was stained with blood. And however much she rubbed and cleaned it, the stains would not go away. With fear and trembling she went to her sister. When King Bluebeard finally returned from his journey, he immediately asked for the golden key. Seeing the bloodstains on it, he said, 'Wife, why did you not heed my warning? Your hour has now struck! Prepare yourself to die, for you have been in the forbidden room!' Crying, she went to her sister, who lived upstairs in the castle. While she was bemoaning her fate to her, the sister thought of the whistle that she had received from her brothers, and said, 'Give me the whistle! I shall send a signal to our brothers. Perhaps they will be able to help!' And she blew the whistle three times, issuing a bright sound that rang through the woods. An hour later they heard Bluebeard rustling up the stairs to get his wife and slaughter her. 'Oh God, oh God!' she cried out. 'Aren't my brothers coming?' She rushed to the door and locked it, then fearfully stood there holding it shut as well. Bluebeard pounded on the door, crying out that she should open it, and when she did not do so, he tried to break it down. 'Oh sister, oh sister, aren't my brothers coming?' she said to her sister, who was standing at the window looking out into the distance. She replied, 'I don't see anyone yet.' Meanwhile, Bluebeard was breaking the door apart more and more, and the opening was almost large enough for him to get through, when three knights suddenly appeared before the castle. The sister cried from the window as loudly as she could, 'Help! Help!' and waved to her brothers. They stormed up the stairs to where they had heard their sister's cry for help. There they saw King Bluebeard, sword in hand, standing before the broken door, and they heard their sister screaming inside the room. Immediately sensing what he was up to, they quickly ran their daggers into his breast and killed him. When the brothers learned what the godless king was going to do to their sister, and that he had already killed so many women, they destroyed his castle, so that there was not one stone remaining on another one. They took with them all his treasures, and lived happily with their sisters in their father's house.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
312,The Brahman Girl That Married a Tiger,India,Type 312A.,"Mrs. Howard Kingscote and Pandit Natêsá Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), no. 10, pp. 119-30.","In a certain village there lived an old Brahman who had three sons and a daughter. The girl being the youngest was brought up most tenderly and become spoilt, and so whenever she saw a beautiful boy she would say to her parents that she must be wedded to him. Her parents were, therefore, much put about to devise excuses for taking her away from her youthful lovers. Thus passed on some years, until the girl was very nearly grown up, and then the parents, fearing that they would be driven out of their caste if they failed to dispose of her hand in marriage before she came to the years of maturity, began to be eager about finding a bridegroom for her. Now near their village there lived a fierce tiger, that had attained to great proficiency in the art of magic, and had the power of assuming different forms. Having a great taste for Brahman's food, the tiger used now and then to frequent temples and other places of public refreshment in the shape of an old famished Brahman in order to share the food prepared for the Brahmans. The tiger also wanted, if possible, a Brahman wife to take to the woods, and there to make her cook his meals after her fashion. One day, when he was partaking of his meals in Brahman shape at a public feeding place, he heard the talk about the Brahman girl who was always falling in love with every beautiful Brahman boy. Said he to himself, 'Praised be the face that I saw first this morning. I shall assume the shape of a Brahman boy, and appear as beautiful as can be, and win the heart of the girl.' Next morning he accordingly assumed the form of a Brahman teacher proficient in the Ramayana near the landing of the sacred river of the village. Scattering holy ashes profusely over his body he opened the Ramayana and began to read. 'The voice of the new teacher is most enchanting. Let us go and hear him,' said some women among themselves, and sat down before him to hear him expound the great book. The girl for whom the tiger had assumed this shape came in due time to bathe at the river, and as soon as she saw the new teacher fell in love with him, and bothered her old mother to speak to her father about him, so as not to lose her new lover. The old woman too was delighted at the bridegroom whom fortune had thrown in her way, and ran home to her husband, who, when he came and saw the teacher, raised up his hands in praise of the great god Mahesvara. The teacher was now invited to take his meals with them, and as he had come with the express intention of marrying the daughter, he, of course, agreed. A grand dinner followed in honor of the teacher, and his host began to question him as to his parentage, etc., to which the cunning tiger replied that he was born in a village beyond the adjacent wood. The Brahman had no time to wait for further inquiries, and as the boy was very fair he married his daughter to him the very next day. Feasts followed for a month, during which time the bridegroom gave every satisfaction to his new relatives, who supposed him to be human all the while. He also did full justice to the Brahman dishes, and swallowed everything that was placed before him. After the first month was over the tiger bridegroom yearned for his accustomed prey, and hankered after his abode in the woods. A change of diet for a day or two is all very well, but to renounce his own proper food for more than a month was hard. So one day he said to his father-in-law, 'I must go back soon to my old parents, for they will be pining at my absence. But why should we have to bear the double expense of my coming all the way here again to take my wife to my village? So if you will kindly let me take the girl with me I shall take her to her future home, and hand her over to her mother-in-law, and see that she is well taken care of.' The old Brahman agreed to this, and replied, 'My dear son-in-law, you are her husband, and she is yours, and we now send her with you, though it is like sending her into the wilderness with her eyes tied up. But as we take you to be everything to her, we trust you to treat her kindly.' The mother of the bride shed tears at the idea of having to send her away, but nevertheless the very next day was fixed for the journey. The old woman spent the whole day in preparing cakes and sweetmeats for her daughter, and when the time for the journey arrived, she took care to place in her bundles and on her head one or two margosa leaves to keep off demons. The relatives of the bride requested her husband to allow her to rest wherever she found shade, and to eat wherever she found water, and to this he agreed, and so they began their journey. The boy tiger and his human wife pursued their journey for an hour or so in free and pleasant conversation, when the girl happened to see a fine pond, around which the birds were warbling their sweet notes. She requested her husband to follow her to the water's edge and to partake of some of the cakes and sweetmeats with her. But he replied, 'Be quiet, or I shall show you my original shape.' This made her afraid, so she pursued her journey in silence until she saw another pond, when she asked the same question of her husband, who replied in the same tone. Now she was very hungry, and not liking her husband's tone, which she found had greatly changed ever since they had entered the woods, said to him, 'Show me your original shape.' No sooner were these words uttered than her husband's form changed from that of a man. Four legs, striped skin, a long tail, and a tiger's face came over him suddenly and, horror of horrors! a tiger and not a man stood before her! Nor were her fears stilled when the tiger in human voice began as follows: 'Know henceforth that I, your husband, am a tiger -- this very tiger that now speaks to you. If you have any regard for your life you must obey all my orders implicitly, for I can speak to you in human voice, and understand what you say. In an hour or so we shall reach my home, of which you will become the mistress. In the front of my house you will see half a dozen tubs, each of which you must fill up daily with some dish or other, cooked in your own way. I shall take care to supply you with all the provisions you want.' So saying the tiger slowly conducted her to his house. The misery of the girl may more be imagined than described, for if she were to object she would be put to death. So, weeping all the way, she reached her husband's house. Leaving her there he went out and returned with several pumpkins and some flesh, of which she soon prepared a curry and gave it to her husband. He went out again after this and returned in the evening with several vegetables and some more flesh, and gave her an order, 'Every morning I shall go out in search of provisions and prey, and bring something with me on my return; you must keep cooked for me whatever I leave in the house.' So next morning as soon as the tiger had gone away she cooked everything left in the house and filled all the tubs with food. At the fourth hour the tiger returned and growled out, 'I smell a man! I smell a woman in my wood.' And his wife for very fear shut herself up in the As soon as the tiger had satisfied his appetite he told her to open the door, which she did, and they talked together for a time, after which the tiger rested awhile, and then went out hunting again. Thus passed many a day, until the tiger's Brahman wife had a son, which also turned out to be only a tiger. One day, after the tiger had gone out to the woods, his wife was crying all alone in the house, when a crow happened to peck at some rice that was scattered near her, and seeing the girl crying, began to shed tears. 'Can you assist me?' asked the girl. 'Yes,' said the crow. So she brought out a palmyra leaf and wrote on it with an iron nail all her sufferings in the wood, and requested her brothers to come and relieve her. This palmyra leaf she tied to the neck of the crow, which, seeming to understand her thoughts, flew to her village and sat down before one of her brothers. He untied the leaf and read the contents of the letter and told them to his other brothers. All the three then started for the wood, asking their mother to give them something to eat on the way. She had not enough rice for the three, so she made a big ball of clay and stuck it over with what rice she had, so as to make it look like a ball of rice. This she gave to the brothers to eat on their way, and started them off to the woods. They had not proceeded long before they caught sight of a donkey. The youngest, who was of a playful disposition, wished to take the donkey with him. The two elder brothers objected to this for a time, but in the end they allowed him to have his own way. Further on they saw an ant, which the middle brother took with him. Near the ant there was a big palmyra tree lying on the ground, which the eldest took with him to keep off the tiger. The sun was now high in the horizon and the three brothers became very hungry. So they sat down near a tank and opened the bundle containing the ball of rice. To their utter disappointment they found it to be all clay, but being extremely hungry they drank all the water in the pond and continued their journey. On leaving the tank they found a big iron tub belonging to the washerman of the adjacent village. This they took also with them in addition to the donkey, the ant, and the palmyra tree. Following the road described by their sister in her letter sent by the crow, they walked on and on until they reached the tiger's house. The sister, overjoyed to see her brothers again, ran out at once to welcome them, 'My dearest brothers, I am so glad to see that you have come here to relieve me after all, but the time for the tiger's coming home is approaching, so hide yourselves in the loft, and wait until he is gone.' So saying, she helped her brothers to ascend into the loft. By this time the tiger returned, and perceived the presence of human beings by the peculiar smell. He asked his wife whether anyone had come to their house. She said, 'No.' But when the brothers, who with their trophies of the way -- the donkey, the ant, and so on -- were sitting upon the loft, saw the tiger dallying with their sister, they were greatly frightened; so much so that the youngest, through fear, began to quake, and they all fell on the floor. 'What is all this?' said the terrified tiger to his wife. 'Nothing,' said she, 'but your brothers-in-law. They came here three hours ago, and as soon as you have finished your meals they want to see you.' 'How can my brothers-in-law be such cowards?' thought the tiger to himself. He then asked them to speak to him, whereon the youngest brother put the ant which he had in his hand into the ear of the donkey, and as soon as the latter was bitten, it began to bawl out most horribly. 'How is it that your brothers have such a hoarse voice?' said the tiger to his wife. He next asked them to show him their legs. Taking courage at the stupidity of the tiger on the two former occasions, the eldest brother now stretched out the palmyra tree. 'By my father, I have never seen such a leg,' said the tiger, and asked his brothers-in-law to show their bellies. The second brother now showed the tub, at which the tiger shuddered, and saying, 'such a harsh voice, so stout a leg, and such a belly, truly I have never heard of such persons as these!' He ran away. It was already dark, and the brothers, wishing to take advantage of the tiger's terror, prepared to return home with their sister at once. They ate up what little food she had, and ordered her to start. Fortunately for her, her tiger child was asleep. So she tore it into two pieces and suspended them over the hearth, and, thus getting rid of the child, she ran off with her brothers towards home. Before leaving she bolted the front door from inside, and went out at the back of the house. As soon as the pieces of the cub, which were hung up over the hearth, began to roast, they dripped, which made the fire hiss and sputter; and when the tiger returned at about midnight, he found the door shut and heard the hissing of the fire, which he mistook for the noise of cooking muffins. 'I see,' said he to himself, 'how very cunning you are; you have bolted the door and are cooking muffins for your brothers. Let us see if we can't get your muffins.' So saying, he went around to the back door and entered his house, and was greatly perplexed to find his cub torn in two and being roasted, his house deserted by his Brahman wife, and his property plundered; for his wife, before leaving, had taken with her as much of the tiger's property as she could conveniently carry. The tiger now discovered all the treachery of his wife, and his heart grieved for the loss of his son, that was now no more. He determined to be revenged on his wife, and to bring her back into the wood, and there tear her into many pieces in place of only two. But how to bring her back? He assumed his original shape of a young bridegroom, making, of course, due allowance for the number of years that had passed since his marriage, and next morning went to his father-in-law's house. His brothers-in-law and his wife saw from a distance the deceitful form he had assumed, and devised means to kill him. The younger ones too ran here and there to bring provisions to feed him sumptuously, and the tiger was highly pleased at the hospitable way in which he was received. There was a ruined well at the back of the house, and the eldest of the brothers placed some thin sticks across its mouth, over which he spread a fine mat. Now it is usual to ask guests to have an oil bath before dinner, and so his three brothers-in-law requested the tiger to take his seat on the fine mat for his bath. As soon as he sat on it, the thin sticks being unable to bear his weight, gave way, and down fell the cunning tiger with a heavy crash! The well was at once filled in with stones and other rubbish, and thus the tiger was effectually prevented from doing any more mischief. But the Brahman girl, in memory of her having married a tiger, raised a pillar over the well and planted a tulasi shrub on the top of it. Morning and evening, for the rest of her life, she used to smear the pillar with sacred cow dung, and water the tulasi shrub. This story is told to explain the Tamil proverb, 'Be quiet, or I shall show you my original shape.' Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), no. 10, pp. 119-30.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
312,The Chosen Suitor,"Antigua, British West Indies",Johnson's source: George W. Edwards. Type 312A.,"John H. Johnson, 'Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies,' Journal of American Folklore, vol. 34, no. 131 (January - March, 1921), pp. 62-63.","Dere's a woman had one daughter an' one son. Dis boy coco-bay (leprosy) boy, an' he was an ol' witch too. Dis woman wouldn't allow da girl to court anybody, you know. So one day Bro' Boar-Hog came dere, properly dressed same as any gentleman. When he want to drop off his clothes, he had a song to sing. Da day when dis Bro' Boar-Hog come to see da daughter, the son tell his mother, 'Ma, don' let sister marry to dis man, for he's a boar-hog!' Da mother drive him off, an' say dat he was rude. She say dat dis man was a gentleman. He tol' da mother, 'All right! you will see.' One day da mother give him some food to carry to dis man, all tied up nicely on a tray. When da boy reach to da yard, he got behind a tree. While he got behind da tree, he see dis boar-hog rooting' up de ground. An' dis boar-hog root all de ground, like ten men with forks. Dis boy stay behind da tree an' see all he do. When da boy see him, he wait a little; den da boy say, 'Ahem!' Boar-Hog jump around; he start to say: Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Dat caused his clothes to jump right on him according' as he sing da song. He step out, put his two hands in his pocket, an' say, 'Boy, see how I plough up dis land!' He boast about da work he do on da field. Den he say to da boy, 'How long you come?' Boy say, 'Just come.' He took da food an' carry it in da house, and tell da boy all right, he can go home. Da boy didn't go home. He got behind de tree again. When Bro' Boar-Hog t'ought da boy gone, he had a long trough, and he dump all de food in da trough. He t'row a bucket a water in too. Den, when he done, he start to say: An' all his clothes drop off. He went in da trough. All dat time da boy watchin' him, you know. Boy start for home now, an' tell his mother all what he see. Da grandfather tell him all right, dey'll catch him. De daughter an' mother didn't believe, but da grandfather believed. So dat same afternoon dis Bro' Boar-Hog came to da house all dressed up in frock-coat. As he come in da house, he start talkin' an' laughin' wid da mother an' daughter. During dis time da ol' man had his gun prepare. Little boy take up his fife an' start to play da same song: Bro' Boar-Hog say, 'What vulgar song dat boy singin'!' He start to movin'. He not able to keep still, 'cause his tail comin' out fast. Quick he say, 'Stop it, stop it! Let's go out for a walk! Let's go out for a walk! I can't stay here.' So dey all went out, -- da daughter, da mother, an' da grandfather. After dey was goin' on, dey was talkin' when Bro' Boar-Hog look back, he see da boy was comin'. He say, 'Where dat boy goin', where he goin'? Turn him back. I don't want to be in his company.' So da grandfather tol' him let da boy alone, let him go for a walk too. Grandfather say, 'Play, boy! Play, boy!' Da boy start: His beaver drop off. Den he play on again da same song: his coat drop, his shirt drop. All drop save his pant. Da ol' man tell him, 'Play, boy! play, play, play!' An' his pant drop off. Dey see his long tail show, an' he start to run. Da ol' man point da gun at him an' shoot him dead. And I went through Miss Havercomb alley, And I see a lead was bending; So the lead ben', So the story en'. (January - March, 1921), pp. 62-63.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
312,The Little Boy and His Dogs,"African American, Joel Chandler Harris",The episode describing the boy's rescue of his sister bears a strong resemblance to tales of types 312 and 312A. The episode describing how the bear is tricked into scalding himself in order to curl his hair is classified as Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 8A.,"Joel Chandler Harris, Daddy Jake, the Runaway; and, Short Stories Told After Dark by 'Uncle Remus' (New York: The Century Company, 1896), pp. 93-107. © 1889 by Joel Chandler Harris.","Uncle Remus's little patron seemed to be so shocked at the burning of the woman [in the previous story, 'How a Witch Was Caught'] that the old man plunged at once into a curious story about a little boy and his two dogs. One time there was a woman living alongside the big road, and this woman, she had one little boy. It seems to me that he must have been just about your size. He might have been a little broader in the shoulders and a little longer in the legs, yet, take him up one side and down the other, he was just about your shape and size. He was a mighty smart little boy, and his mammy set lots by him. It seems like she had never had any luck except with that boy, because there was a time when she had a little gal, and bless your soul, somebody came along and carried the little gal off, and the little boy didn't have a little sister anymore. This made both of them mighty sorry, but it looked like the little boy was the sorriest, because he showed it the most. Some days he'd take a notion to go and hunt for his little sister, and then he'd go down the big road and climb a big pine tree, and get clear to the top, and look all around to see if he couldn't see his little sister somewhere in the woods. He couldn't see her, but he'd stay up there in the tree and swing in the wind and allow to himself that maybe he might see her by and by. One day while he was sitting up there, he saw two mighty fine ladies walking down the road. He climbed down out of the tree, he did, and ran and told his mammy. The she up an asked, 'How fine are they, honey?' 'Mighty fine, mammy, mighty fine: puffy-out petticoats and long green veils.' 'How do they look, honey?' 'Spick-and-span new, mammy.' 'They aren't any of our kin, are they, honey?' 'That they aren't, mammy. They are mighty fine ladies.' The fine ladies, they came on down the road, they did, and stopped by the woman's house, and begged to please give them some water. The little boy, he ran and fetched them a gourd full, and they put the gourd under their veils and drank, and drank, and drank just like they were nearly perished for water. The little boy watched them. Soon he hollered out, 'Mammy, mammy! What do you reckon? They are lapping the water.' The woman hollered back, 'I reckon that's the way quality folks do, honey.' Then the ladies begged for some bread, and the little boy took them a pone. They ate it like they were mighty nigh famished for bread. By and by the little boy hollered out and said, 'Mammy, mammy! What do you reckon? They've got great long teeth.' The woman, she hollered back, 'I reckon all the quality folks have got them, honey.' Then the ladies asked for some water to wash their hands, and the little boy brought them some. He watched them, and by and by he hollered out, 'Mammy, mammy! What do you reckon? They've got hairy hands and arms.' Then the ladies begged the woman to please let the little boy show them where the big road forks. But the little boy didn't want to go. He hollered out, 'Mammy, folks don't have to be shown where the road forks.' But the woman, she allowed, 'I reckon the quality folks do, honey.' The little boy, he began to whimper and cry, because he didn't want to go with the ladies, but the woman said he ought to be ashamed of himself for going on that way in front of the quality folks, and more than that, he might run into his little sister and fetch her home. Now this here little boy had two mighty bad dogs. One of them was named Minnyminny Morack, and the other one was named Follerlinsko, and they were so bad that they had to be tied in the yard day and night, except when they were a-hunting. So the little boy, he went and got a pan of water and set in down in the middle of the floor, and then he went and got himself a willow limb, and he stuck it in the ground. Then he allowed, 'Mammy, when the water in this here pan turns to blood, then you run out and set loose Minnyminny Morack and Follerlinsko, and when you see that there willow limb a-shaking, you run and sick them on my track.' The woman, she up and said, she'd turn the dogs loose, and then the little boy, he stuck his hands in his pockets and went on down the road a-whistling, just the same as any other little boy, except that he was a lot smarter. He went on down the road, he did, and the fine quality ladies, they came on behind. The further he went the faster he walked. This made the quality ladies walk fast too, and it wasn't so mighty long before the little boy heard them making a mighty curious fuss, and when he turned around, bless gracious! they were a-panting, because they were so tired and hot. The little boy allowed to himself that it was mighty curious how ladies could pant the same as a wild varmint, but he said he expected that was the way quality ladies do when they get hot and tired, and he made like he couldn't hear them, because he wanted to be nice and polite. After a while, when the quality ladies thought the little boy wasn't looking at them, he saw one of them drop down on her all fours and trot along just like a varmint, and it wasn't long before the other one dropped down on her all fours. Then the little boy allowed, 'Shoo! If that is the way quality ladies rest themselves when they get tired, I reckon a little chap about my size had better be fixing to rest himself.' So he looked around, he did, and he took and picked himself out a great big pine tree by the side of the road, and began to climb it. Then, when they saw that, one of the quality ladies allowed, 'My goodness! What in the world are you up to now?' The little boy, he said, 'I'm just a-climbing a tree to rest my bones.' The ladies, they allowed, 'Why don't you rest them on the ground?' The little boy, he said, 'Because I want to get up where it is cool and high.' The quality ladies, they took and walked around and around the tree like they were measuring it to see how big it was. By and by, after a while, they said, 'Little boy, little boy! You'd better come down from there and show us the way to the forks of the road.' Then the little boy allowed, 'Just keep right on, ladies. You'll find the forks of the road. You can't miss them. I'm afraid to come down, because I might fall and hurt one of you all.' The ladies, they said, 'You'd better come down before we run and tell your mammy how bad your are.' The little boy allowed, 'While you are telling her, please tell her how scared I am.' The quality ladies got mighty mad. They walked around that tree and fairly snorted. They pulled off their bonnets, and their veils, and their dresses, and, lo and behold, the little boy saw that they were two great big panthers. They had great big eyes, and big sharp teeth, and great long tails, and they looked up at the little boy and growled and grinned at him until he mighty nigh had a chill. They tried to climb the tree, but they had trimmed their claws so they could get gloves on, and they couldn't climb any more. Then one of them sat down in the road and made a curious mark in the sand, and their great long tales turned into axes, and no sooner did the tails turn into axes than they began to cut the tree down. I don't dare tell you how sharp those axes were, because you wouldn't nigh believe me. One of them stood on one side of the tree, and the other one stood on the other side, and they whacked at that tree like they were taking a holiday. They whacked out chips as big as your hat, and it wasn't so mighty long before the tree was ready to fall. But while the little boy was sitting up there, scared mighty nigh to death, it came into his mind that he had some eggs in his pocket that he had brought with him to eat whenever he got hungry. He took out one of the eggs and broke it, and said, 'Place fill up!' And bless your soul, the place sure enough filled up, and the tree looked just exactly like nobody had been a-cutting on it. But them there panthers, they were very vigorous. They just spit on their hands and cut away. When they got the tree mighty nigh cut down, the little boy, he pulled out another egg and broke it, and said, 'Place, fill up!' And by the time he said it, the tree was done made sound again. They kept on this a-way until the little boy began to get scared again. He had broken all his eggs except one, and them there creatures were a-cutting away like they were venomous, which they most surely were. Just about that time the little boy's mammy happened to stumble over the pan of water that was sitting down on the floor, and there it was, all turned to blood. Then she ran and unloosed Minnyminny Morack and Follerlinsko. Then when she did that she saw the willow limb a-shaking, and then she put the dogs on the little boy's track, and away they went. The little boy heard them a-coming, and he hollered out, 'Come on, my good dogs. Here, dogs, here.' The panthers, they stopped chopping and listened. One asked the other one what she could hear. The little boy said, 'You don't hear anything. Go on with your chopping.' The panthers, they chopped some more, and then they thought they heard the dogs a-coming. Then they tried their best to get away, but it wasn't any use. They didn't have time to change their axes back into tails, and because they couldn't run with axes dragging behind them, the dogs caught The little boy, he allowed, 'Shake them and bite them. Drag them around and around, until you drag them two miles.' So the dogs dragged them around for two miles. Then the little boy said, 'Shake them and tear them. Drag them around and around, until you drag them ten miles.' They dragged them ten miles, and by the time they got back, the panthers were cold and stiff. Then the little boy climbed down out of the tree and sat down to rest himself. By and by, after a while, he allowed to himself that beings he was having so much fun, he believed he'd take his dogs and go way off into the woods to see if he couldn't find his little sister. He called his dogs, he did, and went off into the woods, and they hadn't gone so mighty far before he saw a house in the woods away off by itself. The dogs, they went up and smelled around, they did, and came back with their bristles up, but the little boy allowed he'd go up there anyhow and see what the dogs were mad about. So he called the dogs and went towards the house, and when he got close up he saw a little gal toting wood and water. She was a might pretty little gal, because she had milk-white skin and great long yellow hair, but her clothes were all in rags, and she was crying because she had to work so hard. Minnyminny Morack and Follerlinsko wagged their tales when they saw the little gal, and the little boy knew by that that she was his sister. So he went up and asked her what her name was, and she said she didn't know what her name was, because she was so scared she forgot. Then he asked her what in the name of goodness she was crying about, and she said she was crying because she had to work so hard. Then he asked her who the house belonged to, and she allowed it belonged to a great big old black bear, and this old bear made her tote wood and water all the time. She said the water was to go into the big wash-pot, and the wood was to make the pot boil, and the pot was to cook folks that the great big old bear brought home to his children. The little boy didn't tell the little gal that he was her brother, but he allowed that he was going to stay and eat supper with the big old bear. The little gal cried and allowed he'd better not, but the little boy said he wasn't afraid to eat supper with a bear. So they went into the house, and when the little boy got in there, he saw that the bear had two great big children, and one of them was squatting on the bed, and the other one was squatting down in the hearth. The children were both named Cubs for short, but the little boy wasn't scared of them, because there were his dogs to do away with them if they so much as rolled an eyeball. The old bear was a mighty long time coming back, so the little gal, she up and fixed supper anyhow, and the little boy, he scrounged from Cubs first on one side and then on the other, and he and the little gal got as much as they wanted. After supper the little boy told the little gal that he'd take and comb her hair just to while away the time. But the little gal's hair hadn't been combed for so long, and it was in such a tangle, that it made the poor creature cry to hear anybody talking about combing it. Then the little boy allowed he wasn't going to hurt her, and he took and warmed some water in a pan and put it on her hair, and then he combed and curled it, just as nice you ever did see. When the old bear got home he was mighty taken back when he saw he had company, and when he saw them all sitting down like they had come to stay. But he was mighty polite, and he shook hands all around, and sat down by the fire and dried his boots, and asked about the crops, and allowed that the weather would be monstrous fine if they could get a little season of rain. Then he took and made a great admiration over the little gal's hair, and he asked the little boy how in the whole world he could curl it and fix it so nice. The little one allowed it was easy enough. Then the old bear said he believed he would like to get his hair curled up that way, and the little boy said, 'Fill the big pot with water.' The old bear filled the pot with water. Then the little boy said, 'Build a fire under the pot and heat the water hot.' When the water got scalding hot, the little boy said, 'All ready now. Stick your head in. It's the only way to make your hair curl.' Then the old bear stuck his head in the water, and that was the last of him, bless gracious! The scalding water curled the hair until it came off, and I suspect that is where they got the idea about putting bear grease on folks's hair. The young bears, they cried like everything when they saw how their daddy had been treated, and they wanted to bite and scratch the little boy and his sister, but those dogs -- Minnyminny Morack and Follerlinsko -- they just laid hold of them there bears, and there wasn't enough left of them to feed a kitten. 'What did they do then?' asked the little boy who had been listening to the story. The old man took off his spectacles and cleaned the glasses on his coattail. 'Well, sir,' he went on, 'the little boy took and carried his sister home, and his mammy said that she never again would set any store by folks with fine clothes, because they were so deceitful. No, never, so long as the Lord might spare her. And then after that they lived together right straight along, and if it hadn't been for the war, they'd be a-living there now. Because war is a mighty dangerous business.' resemblance to tales of types 312 and 312A. in order to curl his hair is classified as Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 8A.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1678,A Young Monk Wanted to Have a Goose,Germany,"Freely translated from Ignaz Hub, Die komische und humoristische Literatur der deutschen Prosaisten des 16. Jahrhunderts, vol. 1 (Nürnberg: Verlag der v. Ebner'schen Buchhandlung, 1856), p. 35.","Johann Gailer von Kaisersberg, ca. 1510.","A hermit once took a young monk to the city. He had raised him since childhood, and the old monk now wanted put the young one to a test. Arriving in the city, they saw a number of women walking to and fro. Filled with amazement, the young monk stared at them with calf's eyes. Until now he had never seen a woman, for since his earliest childhood he had been raised in a monastery. He asked the old monk what these things were. The old monk answered, saying, 'They are geese.' The women were wearing white veils and white cloaks. The young monk left good enough alone and said nothing more. Afterward, when the two were back at their monastery, the young monk began to cry bitterly. The old monk asked him why he was crying. The young monk replied, 'Father, why should I not be crying! I wanted every so badly to have a goose!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1678,An Inexperienced Youth,"Italy, The Facetiæ of Poggio",Poggio's complete title is 'An Inexperienced Youth Who Did Not Make the Acquaintance of His Wife During Their First Wedding-Night.' This anecdote combines elements of folktale types 1678 (The Boy Who Had Never Seen a Woman) and 1686 (The Wedding Night). Poggio's full name was Gian Francesco Poggio Bracciolini; he lived between 1380 and 1459.,"The Facetiæ or Jocose Tales of Poggio, vol. 2 (Paris: Isidore Liseux, 1879), no. 150, pp. 45-47.","A young Bolognese, a simple-minded ninny, had married a beautiful maiden. The first night, not being in the least up to his business, since he had never before frequented any woman, he did not succeed in consummating the marriage. The next morning, being asked by a friend how matters had fared overnight: 'Sadly,' he sighed; 'for, after repeated endeavours, I could never find in my wife the aperture I was told of.' Seeing his silliness: 'Hush, for God's sake,' said the friend; 'speak not a word about it; how unpleasant, and what a shame for you if the thing were known!' The simpleton begged for his advice and assistance: 'I'll undertake,' said his interlocutor, 'to bore that aperture for you, if only you stand a first rate supper; but I shall require eight days to perform the operation, which is a very difficult one.' The idiot assented, and, at night, secreted his mate with his wife, himself retiring to another bed. After the interval agreed upon, the road had been so well opened by friendly exertions, that no more thorns were to be feared: the husband was sent for: 'I have toiled and moiled for your service,' said his obliging companion, 'but the requisite orifice is at last made.' The young woman, now thoroughly initiated, congratulated her husband, praising highly his friend's labour. The fool, overjoyed at his wife's perforation, gave his best thanks to his comrade, and paid the supper.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1678,Filippo Balducci and His Son,Giovanni Boccaccio,The Decameron (Il Decamerone) was written between 1350 and 1355.,"Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron, day 4, introduction. Retold and shortened.","When Filippo Balducci lost his wife to death, he resolved to devote himself and his young son to God. Consequently he gave his worldly possessions to charity, then took his little son to the slopes of Mount Asinaio, where they lived together in a cave, completely secluded from the ways and temptations of the world. In this remote sanctuary, Filippo taught his son about God and the saints, protecting him always from distractions and sin. Only after the boy reached the age of eighteen did the father feel it safe to expose him to the outside world. 'Surely,' thought Filippo, 'his years of devotion and prayer in this place of solitude will now defend him against the ways of the world.' And the two of them, father and son, set off for the city of Florence. Everything was new and amazing for the son: houses, palaces, churches, horses, and people. Filled with amazement, he asked his father about every unfamiliar thing, and Filippo dutifully provided names and explanations for all that they saw, that is, until they happened upon a party of beautiful young women. The boy, who until now had never beheld such a sight, could not take his eyes from them. 'Do not look at them,' warned Filippo. 'But what are they?' asked the son. 'Oh, they are just geese,' replied Filippo, wanting to divert the boy's attention from the young women. 'Please, father,' begged the boy, 'let me have one of those geese. I could put something into its bill. 'No!' exclaimed the father. 'Their bills are not where you think they are, and they require special feeding. And furthermore they are evil!' Poor Filippo now regretted having taken his son from his protective sanctuary, for even as he spoke, he realized that however clever his responses were, they were no match for the boy's natural inclinations. Retold and shortened. 1355.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1423,"Husband, Wife, Lover, and Mango Tree",Tibet/Nepal,Bendall's source: A Tibetan manuscript dated A.D. 1484.,"Cecil Bendall, 'The Tantrakhyana, a Collection of Indian Folklore, from a Unique Sanskrit Manuscript Discovered in Nepal,' tale 42, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, new series, vol. 20 (London: Trübner and Company, 1888), pp. 500-501.","In a certain village lived an honest man who had a wife both beautiful and clever, but devoted to another man. One day she went by assignation to a grove of mango trees, and there dallied with her lover. But the husband also came. So the lover, seeing him approaching, jumped up hastily, and stepping aside, stood modestly concealed. Then the woman, seeing her lord, said to him, 'Can I have a mango to eat?' He replied, 'I will fetch you one.' Quoth she: 'My longing is to climb up myself and eat a mango.' 'Do so for yourself then,' said he. So when she had climbed up the tree, she looked at her husband and said: 'My dear, what do you mean by making love to another woman before my very eyes?' 'What are you talking about?' said he. 'There is no other woman.' 'Can this be the nature of the tree [so that one sees double]?' said she. 'You come up and look at me standing on the ground.' When so it was done, she called her paramour, and took her fill of love. Then said the husband: 'Yes, indeed, it is the nature of the tree.' Whereon the lover made off.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1423,Story of the Credulous Husband,1001 Nights (translated by John Payne),Square brackets denote Payne's additions to a faulty original text.,"John Payne, Tales from the Arabic of the Breslau and Calcutta (1814-18) Editions of the Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night Not Occurring in the Other Printed Texts of the Work. Now first done into English, vol. 1 (London: Printed for subscribers only, 1884), pp. 270-72.","There was once of old time a foolish, ignorant man, who had wealth galore, and his wife was a fair woman, who loved a handsome youth. The latter used to watch for her husband's absence and come to her, and on this wise he abode a long while. One day, as the woman was private with her lover, he said to her, 'O my lady and my beloved, if thou desire me and love me, give me possession of thyself and accomplish my need in thy husband's presence; else will I never again come to thee nor draw near thee, what while I abide on life.' Now she loved him with an exceeding love and could not brook his separation an hour nor could endure to vex him; so, when she heard his words, she said to him, '[So be it,] in God's name, O my beloved and solace of mine eyes, may he not live who would vex thee!' Quoth he, 'Today?' And she said, 'Yes, by thy life,' and appointed him of this. When her husband came home, she said to him, 'I desire to go a-pleasuring.' And he said, 'With all my heart.' So he went, till he came to a goodly place, abounding in vines and water, whither he carried her and pitched her a tent beside a great tree; and she betook herself to a place beside the tent and made her there an underground hiding-place, [in which she hid her lover]. Then said she to her husband, 'I desire to mount this tree.' And he said, 'Do so.' So she climbed up and when she came to the top of the tree, she cried out and buffeted her face, saying, 'Lewd fellow that thou art, are these thy usages? Thou sworest [fidelity to me] and liedst.' And she repeated her speech twice and thrice. Then she came down from the tree and rent her clothes and said, 'O villain, if these be thy dealings with me before my eyes, how dost thou when thou art absent from me?' Quoth he, 'What aileth thee?' and she said, 'I saw thee swive the woman before my very eyes.' 'Not so, by Allah!' cried he. 'But hold thy peace till I go up and see.' So he climbed the tree and no sooner did he begin to do so than up came the lover [from his hiding-place] and taking the woman by the legs, [fell to swiving her]. When the husband came to the top of the tree, he looked and beheld a man swiving his wife. So he said, 'O strumpet, what doings are these?' And he made haste to come down from the tree to the ground; [but meanwhile the lover had returned to his hiding-place] and his wife said to him, 'What sawest thou?' 'I saw a man swive thee,' answered he; and she said, 'Thou liest; thou sawest nought and sayst this but of conjecture.' On this wise they did three times, and every time [he climbed the tree] the lover came up out of the underground place and bestrode her, whilst her husband looked on and she still said, 'O liar, seest thou aught?' 'Yes,' would he answer and came down in haste, but saw no one and she said to him, 'By my life, look and say nought but the truth!' Then said he to her, 'Arise, let us depart this place, for it is full of Jinn and Marids.' [So they returned to their house] and passed the night [there] and the man arose in the morning, assured that this was all but imagination and illusion. And so the lover accomplished his desire.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1423,"The Fourth Lady, Her Husband, and the Brahmin",India/Persia,"Footnote by Scott: 'The Asiatics have a very contemptible opinion of the Russians, especially of the females, whom they believe to be void of common modesty.' [Return to the text.] Einaiut Oollah, modern English spelling Inayat Allah, or in full: Shaikh Inayat Allah Kamboh, was born in 1608 and died in 1671 at Delhi.","Jonathan Scott, Bahar-Danush; or, Garden of Knowledge: An Oriental Romance, translated from the Persic of Einaiut Oollah [Inayat Allah], vol. 2 (Shrewsbury: Printed by J. and W. Eddowes for T. Cadell, jun., and W. Davies, in the Strand, London, 1799), story 8, lesson 4, pp. 64-68.","Frame Story Five cunning women meet a handsome but naive Brahmin at a well in Benares [Veranasi], India, then lead him into a series of compromising situations, each claiming to be a lesson from the Tirrea Bede, (the fifth Veda), although in truth the Hindus recognize only four such sacred texts. Story 8 The fourth lady, ... having bestowed her attention on the pilgrim Brahmin, dispatched him to an orchard; and having gone home, said to her wise husband, 'I have heard that in the orchard of a certain husbandman, there is a date tree, the fruit of which is of remarkably fine flavour; but what is yet stranger, whoever ascends it, sees many wonderful objects. If today, going to visit this orchard, we gather dates from this tree, and also see the wonders of it, it will not be unproductive of amusement.' In short, she so worked upon her husband with flattering speeches and caresses, that nolens volens [unwillingly or willingly] he went to the orchard, and at the instigation of his wife, ascended the tree. At this instant she beckoned to the Brahmin, who was previously seated, expectantly, in a corner of the garden. The husband, from the top of the tree, beholding what was not fit to be seen, exclaimed in extreme rage, 'Ah! thou shameless Russian-born wretch, what abominable action is this?' [footnote] The wife making not the least answer, the flames of anger seized the mind of the man, and he began to descend from the tree; when the Brahmin with activity and speed having hurried over the fourth section of the Tirrea Bede, went his way. VERSE. The road to repose is that of activity, and quickness! The wife, during her husband's descent from the tree having arranged her plan, said, 'Surely, man, frenzy must have deprived thy brain of the fumes of sense, that having foolishly set up such a cry, and not reflecting. Upon thy own disgrace, (for here, excepting thyself, what male is present ?) thou wou'dst fix upon me the charge of infidelity?' The husband, when he saw no person near, was astonished, and said to himself, 'Certainly, this vision must have been miraculous.' The completely artful wife, from the hesitation of her husband, guessed the cause, and impudently began to abuse him. Then instantly tying her vest round her waist, she ascended the tree. When she had reached the topmost branch, she suddenly cried out, 'O thou shameless man, what abominable action is this! If thy evil star hath led thee from the path of virtue, surely thou mightest have in secret ventured upon it. Doubtless to pull down the curtain of modesty from thy eyes, and with such impudence to commit such a wicked deed, is the very extreme of debauchery.' The husband replied, 'Woman, do not thus ridiculously cry out, but be silent; for such is the property of this tree, that whoever ascends it, sees man or woman below in such situations.' The cunning wife now came down, and said to her husband, 'What a charming garden and amusing spot is this! where one can gather fruit, and at the same time behold the wonders of the world.' The husband replied, 'Destruction seize the wonders which falsely accuse man of abomination!' In short, the devilish wife, notwithstanding the impudence of such an action, escaped safely to her house; and the next day, according to custom, attending at the well, introduced the Brahmin to the ladies, and informed them of her worthy contrivance.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1423,The Merchant's Tale,Geoffrey Chaucer,"The tale above combines elements of folktale type 1423 (the enchanted pear tree) with those of type 1419M (a wife convinces her husband that her infidelity has saved him from a curse). Chaucer was born about the year 1340 and died in 1400. He began writing The Canterbury Tales in about 1386. The great work remained unfinished. Link to a Middle English text with an interlinear translation of The Marchantes Tale from the Geoffrey Chaucer Page at Harvard University. Link to a Middle English text of The Marchantes Tale from eChaucer, edited by Gerard NeCastro, University of Maine at Machias. Link to a modern translation of The Merchant's Tale from eChaucer, edited by Gerard NeCastro, University of Maine at Machias.","Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, 'The Merchant's Tale.' Retold and shortened.","In the town of Pavia in Lombardy there lived a worthy knight by the name of January. Although throughout his long and prosperous life he had partaken often of the fruits of love, he felt no need for marriage until he passed his sixtieth year, when suddenly he was overcome by a violent urge to become a wedded man. 'A young and beautiful wife,' he concluded, 'would be the fulfillment of my wealth and glory. Obedient, loyal, and untiring, she would attend to my every need in my waning years, and further, she may well present me with an heir.' 'Not so!' argued some. 'A wife's interest will be more toward your fortune than toward your well being, and further, her unbridled passions may place your honor at risk.' But January listened not to these negative voices, paying heed instead to those who praised the virtues of womanhood and the benefits of marriage. And thus he soon announced to his friends his resolve to find a bride, 'But,' he asserted, 'she must be under twenty years of age, for young veal is tastier than old beef.' His friends tried to dissuade him from this resolve, but to no avail, and at last -- driven onward by unrelenting fantasies -- he found the woman who satisfied his dreams. Although not of high rank, she was young and beautiful, and, in his love-blinded perception, she was also compliant and self-disciplined. Further, like old January himself, she too bore the name of a season: May. Marriage documents were executed, the holy sacrament of marriage was duly performed, and the priest united January and May as husband and wife. One wedding guest was particularly moved, a robust young man named Damian, who served as a squire to Knight January. Ravished by May's fresh beauty, the squire fell madly in love with his master's young bride. No one knows what young May was thinking in her heart as old January -- with his beard of stubble and loose skin shaking about his throat -- labored in the field of love. But Damian's thoughts were not entirely secret. He poured out his soul with pen and ink, then managed to slip the letter into the hand of his beloved May without being seen by the ever-watchful January. May's only opportunity to read the letter came in that small place where everyone goes alone. There she committed Damian's message to memory, then tore the letter into pieces and threw them into the privy. But one thing is certain. She took no offense at the young squire's forwardness, for as soon as she could steal a few minutes' time, she composed a letter to the young squire, promising him the satisfaction he desired of her as soon as the time and place might present themselves. In the meantime old January's fortune turned against him, and he lost his sight. The curse of blindness increased the knight's possessiveness and jealousy toward his young wife. Fearing that she might succumb to some temptation under the cover of his darkness, he never let her go out unless he himself had her by the hand. Nevertheless, by using private hand signals and smuggled letters, she communicated her forbidden love to Damian, and invented a plan whereby it might be consummated. The tryst was to take place in a private garden where January and May often walked together. Following his beloved's plan, Damian let himself into the garden at the appointed time, then hid himself in the branches of a pear tree that grew there. A little later January and May, hand in hand, approached the tree, when May suddenly declared an intense appetite for a pear from the nearby tree. 'Do let me climb the tree and pluck a pear,' she begged of her husband. Then recalling his blind jealousy, she added, 'You can hold your arms around the tree to make sure that I am alone.' Not wanting to deny her this innocent request, he stooped over and let her step onto his back. Taking hold of a branch, she pulled herself into tree and into the arms of the waiting Damian. Now ladies, please take no offence, but I must tell the story as it actually happened. Damian forthwith lifted her smock and thrust away, with the deceived husband blindly hugging the tree beneath them. However, this shameful tryst was not entirely unseen. The king and queen of Fairyland saw all, and the king -- horrified at the cuckoldry -- resolved at once to restore the old knight's sight immediately and thus expose his wife's and his squire's faithlessness. 'Do that!' replied the fairy king's wife. 'But nothing bad will come to the young woman, for I will give her a bold and quick answer that will excuse her and her lover from all guilt.' And thus it happened. As granted by the fairy king, sight miraculously returned to January's aging eyes. But his rejoicing was short lived, for looking up, the first thing he saw was his wife engaged in an act that polite words cannot describe. 'Strumpet!' he called out angrily. 'What are you up to?' Now it was the fairy queen's turn to ply her magic, and -- as promised -- she put a quick response onto the wayward wife's tongue. 'Sir,' replied May, 'have patience. Don't you see what I have done? I was told that the only cure for your blindness would be for me to struggle with a man upon a tree.' 'Struggle?' said he. 'It went right in!' 'Oh no!' said she. 'You caught a hazy glimpse, my good sir, but your sight is still poor. Things are not as they first appeared to you.' Then she continued, 'This slander is my reward for helping you to see.' 'Never mind!' said he. 'Come down. But it did appear to me that Damian was enjoying you with your smock upon his breast.' 'Think what you will,' said she, 'but it was only a false vision following your long blindness.' With that she jumped down from the tree, and January led her happily back home. Tale.' Retold and shortened. pear tree) with those of type 1419M (a wife convinces her husband that her infidelity has saved him from a curse). The Canterbury Tales in about 1386. The great work remained unfinished. Marchantes Tale from the Geoffrey Chaucer Page at Harvard University.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1423,The Story of Lydia and Pyrrhus,Giovanni Boccaccio,"The Decameron (Il Decamerone) was written between 1350 and 1355. Link to the entire work: Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron; or, Ten Days of Entertainment (Cincinnati: Steward and Kidd Company, 1919), seventh day, novel 9, pp. 367-74.","Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron, day 7, tale 9. Retold and shortened.","Nicostratus, a wealthy patrician, married Lydia, a woman of great distinction and unsurpassed beauty. He was well advanced in years, while she was still a paragon of youth and vitality. Consequently, to state the matter delicately, their marriage did not leave the young wife entirely satisfied. Thus, it is quite understandable that Lydia found herself paying ever more attention to one of her husband's servants, Pyrrhus by name, who was elegant, handsome, young, and energetic. He was attracted to her as well, and gladly would have accepted her invitations to love, but the old man gave them no opportunity. What he lacked in vigor he made up with jealousy and perseverance, rarely leaving his beautiful young wife alone. Their unrequited passion aglow, Lydia and Pyrrhus devised a daring scheme through which, even in the master's presence, they might satisfy their longing for one another. Accordingly, one day when the three were walking in the garden, as they often did, Lydia requested a pear from a certain tree. Pyrrhus climbed after the fruit, but once in the tree, he called to his master, 'Have you no shame, making love like that in broad daylight?' The master demanded an explanation for the strange remark, and Pyrrhus concluded that the pear tree was enchanted, giving the impression of unreal happenings below. To test the theory, he asked his master to climb the tree, and see if he too would behold impossible things below. His curiosity piqued, Nicostratus mustered enough strength to climb onto one of the pear tree's lower branches. Looking down, what did he behold but Pyrrhus and Lydia making fervent love. From his precarious perch, he shouted curses, threats, and insults at them. but they -- engaged with other pursuits -- quite ignored him. Nicostratus climbed down from the tree, only to find Pyrrhus and Lydia seated discretely on a garden bench. Their innocent demeanor convinced him that nothing unseemly had happened. Fearing that only a bedeviled tree could be responsible for the vile images that he had perceived, he sent for an ax and had it cut down immediately. From that time forth Nicostratus relaxed his watchful vigil over his young wife, and thus Pyrrhus and Lydia were able to pluck the fruits of their love at regular intervals, even without the help of their enchanted pear tree. Retold and shortened. 1355.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1423,The Story of the Simpleton Husband,1001 Nights (translated by Richard Burton),NA,"Richard F. Burton, Supplemental Nights to the Book of the Thousand and One Nights, vol. 1 (Printed by the Burton Club for private subscribers only, 1886), pp. 239-41.","There was once in olden time a foolish man and an ignorant, who had abounding wealth, and his wife was a beautiful woman, who loved a handsome youth. The Cicisbeo [gallant] used to watch for her husband's absence and come to her, and on this wise he abode a long while. One day of the days, as the woman was closeted with her lover, he said to her, 'O my lady and my beloved, an [if] thou desire me and love me, give me possession of thy person and satisfy my need in the presence of thy husband; otherwise I will never again come to thee nor draw near thee while I live my life.' Now she loved him with exceeding love and c&uld not suffer his separation an hour nor could endure to anger him; so, when she heard his words, she said to him, 'Bismillah, so be it, in Allah's name, O my darling and coolth of mine eyes: may he not live who would vex thee!' Quoth he, 'Today?' And quoth she, 'Yes, by thy life,' and made an appointment with him for this. When her husband came home, she said to him, 'I want to go a-pleasuring,' and he said, 'With all my heart.' So he went, till he came to a goodly place, abounding in vines and water, whither he carried her and pitched her a tent by the side of a tall tree; and she betook herself to a place alongside the tent and made her there a Sarddb [an underground vault], in which she hid her lover. Then said she to her husband, 'I want to climb this tree'; and he said, 'Do so.' So she clomb it and when she came to the tree-top, she cried out and slapped her face, saying, 'O thou lecher, are these thy lewd ways? Thou swarest faith to me, and thou liedest.' And she repeated her speech twice and thrice. Then she came down from the tree and rent her raiment and said, 'O lecher, an [if] these be thy dealings with me before my eyes, how dost thou when thou art absent from me?' Quoth he, 'What aileth thee?' and quoth she, 'I saw thee futter the woman before my very eyes.' Cried he, 'Not so, by Allah! But hold thy peace till I go up and see.' So he clomb the tree and no sooner did he begin to do so than out came the lover from his hiding place and taking the woman by the legs, fell to shagging her. When the husband came to the top of the tree, he looked and beheld a man futtering his wife; so he called out, 'O whore, what doings are these?' and he made haste to come down from the tree to the ground. But meanwhile the lover had returned to his hiding place and his wife asked him, 'What sawest thou?' and he answered, 'I saw a man shag thee.' But she said, 'Thou liest; thou sawest naught and sayst this only by way of phantasy.' The same they did three several times, and every time he clomb the tree the lover came up out of the underground place and mounted her, whilst her husband looked on and she still said, 'Seest thou aught, O liar?' 'Yes,' would he answer, and came down in haste, but saw no one and she said to him, 'By my life, look and speak naught but sooth!' Then he cried to her, 'Arise, let us depart this place, for 'tis full of Jinn and Marids.' Accordingly, they returned to their house and nighted there, and the man arose in the morning, assured that this was all but phantasy and fascination. And so the lover won his wicked will.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1423,The Twenty-Ninth Vizier's Story,Turkey,NA,"Sheykh-Zada, The History of the Forty Vezirs; or, The Story of the Forty Morns and Eves, translated by E. J. W. Gibb (London: George Redway, 1886), pp. 303-305.","There was in the palace of the world a grocer, and he had a wife, a beauty of the age, and that woman had a lover. One day this woman's lover said, 'If your husband found us out, he would not leave either of us sound.' The woman said, 'I am able to manage that I shall make merry with you before my husband's eyes.' The youth said, 'Such a thing cannot be.' The woman replied, 'In such and such a place there is a large tree. Tomorrow I will go on an outing with my husband to the foot of that tree. Hide yourself in a secret place near that tree, and when I make a sign to you, come.' As her lover left, her husband arrived. The woman said, 'Man, I would like to go on an outing with you tomorrow to such and such a tree.' The man replied, 'So be it.' When it was morning the woman and her husband went to that tree. The woman said, 'They say that he who eats this sweetmeat sees single things as though they were double,' and she ate some and gave her husband some to eat. Half an hour afterward the woman climbed up the tree and turned and looked down and began, 'May you be struck blind! May God punish you! Man, what are you doing? Is there anyone who has ever done such a thing? You are making merry with a strange woman under the eyes of your wife. Quick, divorce me!' And she cried out. Her husband said, 'What is with you, woman? Have you gone mad? There is no one with me.' Said the woman, 'Be silent, you unblushing and shameless fellow. The woman is with you, and you deny it.' Her husband said, 'Come down.' She replied, 'I will not come down so long as that woman is with you.' Her husband began to swear, protesting, and the woman came down and said to him, 'Where is that harlot? Quick, show her to me, or else!' Again the man swore, and the woman said, 'Can it then be the work of the sweetmeat?' The man said, 'May be.' Said the woman, 'You too go up and look down on me, and let us see.' Her husband took hold of the tree, and while he was climbing, the woman made a sign to her lover. The man looked down and saw the woman making merry with a youth. This time the man cried out, 'Away with you! What is with you, you shameless boy?' The woman said, 'You are lying.' But the man could not endure it and began to come down, and the youth ran off. .",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1423,The Vibhîtaka Tree,India,"The Suka Saptati, also spelled Sukasaptati, or Seventy Tales of a Parrot is a collection of Sanskrit stories dating from the 12th century or earlier.","B. Hale Wortham, The Enchanted Parrot: Being a Selection from the 'Suka Saptati,' or, The Seventy Tales of a Parrot, translated from the Sanskrit (London: Luzac and Company, 1911), story 28, pp. 72-73.","There is a large village called Kukhâddâ; in it dwelt a certain Jarasa, who was a great fool. His wife's name was Devikâ. She was a flighty, ill- conducted person, and had a lover -- a Brahman -- whom she used to meet under a Vibhîtaka tree, some way from the village. These meetings were a great subject of gossip in the place, and in course of time her husband heard of them. So he made up his mind to see into the matter himself and went and climbed into the tree. What he saw from his hiding-place fully justified all the gossip, and he called out to his wife: 'You good-for-nothing hussy! You have been up to this game for some time past.' She was put into somewhat of a difficulty and said: 'I don't know what you mean!' 'I will let you know what I mean,' he answered, 'if you will just wait till I come down.' So she promised to wait till he came down from the tree, and meanwhile sent her lover away. At last her husband reached the ground. 'It is of no use your making excuses,' he said. 'You have been caught in flagranti delicto.' 'My dear husband!' she replied, 'You must know that this tree has very peculiar properties: anyone who climbs up into it can see at once whether their husband or wife has attractions away from home.' Her husband replied, 'Well, you climb up and see if it is so.' Which she did, and cried out: 'You good-for-nothing wretch! You have been running after other women for days and days.' As this was perfectly true the fool had nothing to say, and so he made it up with his wife and they went home together.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,Benibaire,Spain,NA,NA,"The second replied: 'I don't know.' And the third said: 'I know what we will do. We will go to Benibaire's house and steal three flasks of oil.' 'Well thought of,' said the others; 'we will go there.' After walking a league, they heard a voice crying: 'Bah, bah.' They saw a great sheep, and were afraid, and ran away, saying: 'Fly, fly, it is going to attack us.' But the sheep cried to them: 'Don't be afraid. Where are you going?' 'To Benibaire's house, to steal three flasks of oil,' they answered. 'Would you like me to go too?' said the sheep. 'Oh, yes,' they replied. They went another league, and heard a voice that said: 'Mieaou, mieaou.' And they saw a very great black cat, and were frightened, and ran away, saying: 'Fly, fly, it is going to scratch us.' But the cat cried to them: 'Don't be frightened, I won't scratch you. Where are you going?' 'To Benibaire's house, to steal three flasks of oil,' they replied. 'Would you like me to go too?' 'Oh, do come,' answered the kids. They went a league farther, and heard a voice crowing: 'Cock-a-doodle-doo.' And the saw a very fiery cock, and were frightened, and fled, saying: 'Fly, fly, it is going to peck us.' The cock said to them: 'Don't be afraid, I won't peck you. Where are you going?' 'To Benibaire's house, to steal three flasks of oil.' 'Would you like me to go?' 'By all means,' replied the kids. They went another league, and saw a packing needle, and were frightened, and ran away, saying: 'Fly, fly, It will prick us.' But the needle said: 'Don't be afraid, I won't prick you. Where are you going?' 'To Benibaire's house, to steal three flasks of oil.' 'Would you like me to go?' 'Yes, come along.' They went another league, and arrived at Benibaire's house; and as it was night, the door was closed. 'How shall we get in?' said the little kids. To which the cock replied: 'I will fly on to the roof, and get down the chimney.' And he did so, and opened the door to them all. They entered the house, and said, 'Where shall we hide ourselves?' The cock replied: 'I have my place already; I will go into the chimney.' The cat hid in the cinders; the needle put itself into the towel, and the sheep got behind the door. Then the kids went to the jars to draw the oil. Whilst they were drawing it they let the funnel fall, and this aroused Benibaire, who said: 'Oh, Lord! thieves have got into my house.' He got up and went to the chimney, and looked up the flue, to see if it were day. Whilst he was looking up, the cock dropped some lime into his eyes and blinded him. He ran to the towel to wipe his face, and as the needle was there, it pricked him; he went to kindle a fire by the eye of the cat in the ashes, and she darted out at him and scratched him; he went flying to the door, and when he got there the sheep gave him a push and he rolled into the street; he went to the mill, and fell into the river, and was drowned, and the three kids remained masters of the house, and had a very good time of it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,How Jack Went to Seek His Fortune (Usa),USA,NA,NA,"Once on a time there was a boy named Jack, and one morning he started to go and seek his fortune. He hadn't gone very far before he met a cat. 'Where are you going, Jack?' said the cat. 'I am going to seek my fortune.' 'May I go with you?' 'Yes,' said Jack, 'the more the merrier.' So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little further and they met a dog. 'Where are you going, Jack?' said the dog. 'I am going to seek my fortune.' 'May I go with you?' 'Yes,' said Jack, 'the more the merrier.' So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little further and they met a goat, 'Where are you going, Jack?' said the goat. 'I am going to seek my fortune.' 'May I go with you?' 'Yes,' said Jack, 'the more the merrier.' So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little further and they met a bull. 'Where are you going, Jack?' said the bull. 'I am going to seek my fortune.' 'May I go with you?' 'Yes,' said Jack, 'the more the merrier.' So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little further and they met a skunk. 'Where are you going, Jack?' said the skunk. 'May I go with you?' 'Yes,' said Jack, 'the more the merrier.' So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little further and they met a rooster. 'Where are you going, Jack?' said the rooster. 'I am going to seek my fortune.' 'May I go with you?' 'Yes,' said Jack, 'the more the merrier.' So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. Well, they went on till it was about dark, and they began to think of some place where they could spend the night. About this time they came in sight of a house, and Jack told them to keep still while he went up a looked in through the window. And there were some robbers counting over their money. Then Jack went back and told them to wait till he gave the word, and then to make all the noise they could. So when they were all ready Jack gave the word, and the cat mewed, and the dog barked, and the goat blatted, and the bull bellowed, and the rooster crowed, and all together they made such a dreadful noise that it frightened the robbers all away. And then they went in a took possession of the house. Jack was afraid the robbers would come back in the night, and so when it came time to go to bed he put the cat in the rocking-chair, and he put the dog under the table, and he put the goat upstairs, and he put the bull down cellar, and he put the skunk in the corner of the fireplace, and the rooster flew up onto the roof, and Jack went to bed. By and by the robbers saw it was all dark, and they sent one man back to the house to look after their money. Before long he came back in a great fright and told them his story. 'I went back to the house,' said he, 'and went in an tried to sit down in the rocking-chair, and there was an old woman knitting, and she stuck her knitting needles into me. I went to the table to look after the money, and there was a shoemaker under the table, and he stuck his awl into me. I started to go upstairs, and there was a man up there threshing, and he knocked me down with his flail. I started to go down cellar, and there was a man down there chopping wood, and he knocked me up with his axe. I went to warm me at the fireplace, and there was an old woman washing dishes, and she threw her dishwater onto me. But I shouldn't have minded all that if it hadn't been for that little fellow on top of the house, who kept a hollering, 'Toss him up to me-e! Toss him up to me-e!''",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,How Jack Went to Seek His Fortune (Usatwo),USA,NA,NA,"Once on a time there was a boy named Jack, who set out to seek his fortune. He had not gone but a little way when he came to a horse. The horse said, 'Where are you going, Jack?' He said, 'I'm going to seek my fortune. Won't you go along too?' 'Don't know, guess I will.' So they walked along together. By and by they came to a cow. The cow said, 'Where are you going, Jack?' He said, 'I'm going to seek my fortune. Won't you go along too?' 'Don't know, guess I will.' So they walked along together. By and by they came to a ram. The ram said, 'Where are you going, Jack?' He said, 'I'm going to seek my fortune. Won't you go along too?' 'Don't know, guess I will.' So they walked along together. By and by they came to a dog. The dog said, 'Where are you going, Jack?' 'I'm going to seek my fortune. Won't you go along too?' 'Don't know, guess I will.' So they all walked along together. By and by they came to a cat. The cat said, 'Where are you going, Jack?' He said, 'I'm going to seek my fortune. Won't you go along too?' 'Don't know, guess I will.' So they all walked along together. By and by they came to a rooster. The rooster said, 'Where are you going, Jack?' 'I'm going to seek my fortune. Won't you go along too?' 'Don't know, don't care if I do.' So they all walked along together. They traveled along until it began to grow dark, and then they were looking for a place to spend the night, when they saw a log cabin in the edge of a woods. Jack went up to the house and found the door unlocked, and went in. After looking about he found a good bed upstairs and plenty of good food in the cupboard. There was a fire on the hearth. As he could see no one living there, after he had eaten a good supper and fed all the animals, he began to make preparations for the night. First he led the horse out into the stable, and fed him some hay, for he found plenty of good hay on the mow. Then he took all the other animals into the house, and he found the door closed into the locker, so he stationed the dog under the table near the door, so that he mighty bite anyone who might chance to enter the house. The cat lay down on the hearth, and the rooster perched on a large crossbeam, and then he stationed the cow at the foot of the stairs, and the ram at the top of the stairs that led to the loft. Then he covered up the fire, put out the light, and went to bed, and was soon fast asleep. Now it happened that this valley was the home of two wicked robbers, who had gone out during the day in search of plunder. Late in the night Jack was awakened by a great noise, for the robbers had returned and opened the door, expecting to find things as usual. They were suddenly grabbed by the dog, who bit them furiously, barking all the while. At last they managed to escape from him, and started to the fireplace, thinking to strike a light. One of the robbers tried to light a match by a coal which he thought he saw shining in the ashes; but this was the cat's eye, and as soon as she was molested she flew on them and scratched their faces dreadfully, till they were glad to escape from the fireplace. They went from the fireplace toward the stairs, but as they passed under the rooster's perch he dropped very disagreeable material (these words to be whispered) upon them. The robbers groped their way through the dark to the foot of the stairs, meaning to creep up to the bed and rest till morning, but just as they reached the stairs they were suddenly caught on the horns of the cow, and tossed up in the air. The ram called out, 'Toss 'em up to me!' Before they lighted he caught them on his horns and tossed them up in the air. And the cow called out, 'Toss 'em down to me!' Before they lighted she caught them on her horns and tossed them up in the air. Then the ram called out, 'Toss 'em up to me!' And before they lighted he caught them on his horns, etc. (to be repeated ad libitum). And so they tossed them back and forth until they were all mangled and bloody. At last they managed to escape from the cow's horns, and thought they would crawl off to the barn and spend the rest of the night. As they passed the dog in going to the door he gave them a parting snip, but they escaped from him and found the way out to the barn. When they tried to creep in at the door the horse began to kick them so dreadfully that they had to give that up, and were only just able to creep off to a fence corner, where they laid down and died. As soon as Jack found that everything was quiet he went to sleep, and slept soundly till morn, after he got up and dressed himself. By and by he looked about and found there was a large bag of gold under his bed, which had been stolen from time to time by the robbers. So Jack kept the gold, was well provided for, and lived happily forever after with his faithful animals.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,Jack and His Comrades,Ireland,NA,NA,"So Jack said to his mother one evening, 'Mother, bake my cake, and kill my cock, till I go seek my fortune; and if I meet it, never fear but I'll soon be back to share it with you.' So she did as he asked her, and he set out at break of day on his journey. His mother came along with him to the bawn (yard) gate, and says she, 'Jack, which would you rather have, half the cake and half the cock with my blessing, or the whole of 'em with my curse?' 'O musha, mother,' says Jack, 'why do you ax me that question? Sure you know I wouldn't have your curse and Damer's estate along with it.' 'Well, then, Jack,' says she, 'here's the whole tote (lot) of 'em, and my thousand blessings along with them.' So she stood on the bawn ditch (fence) and blessed him as far as her eyes could see him. Well, he went along and along till he was tired, and ne'er a farmer's house he went into wanted a boy. At last his road led by the side of a bog, and there was a poor ass up to his shoulders near a big bunch of grass he was striving to come at. 'Ah, then, Jack asthore,' says he, 'help me out or I'll be dhrownded.' 'Never say't twice,' says Jack, and he pitched in big stones and scraws (sods) into the slob, till the ass got good ground under him. 'Thank you, Jack,' says he, when he was out on the hard road; 'I'll do as much for you another time. Where are you going?' 'Faith, I'm going to seek my fortune till harvest comes in, God bless it!' 'And if you like,' says the ass, 'I'll go along with you; who knows what luck we may have!' 'With all my heart; it's getting late, let us be jogging.' Well, they were going through a village, and a whole army of gorsoons [garçons] were hunting a poor dog with a kittle tied to his tail. He ran up to Jack for protection, and the ass let such a roar out of him, that the little thieves took to their heels as if the ould boy (the devil) was after them. 'More power to you, Jack!' says the dog. 'I'm much obleeged to you; where is the baste and yourself going?' 'We're going to seek our fortune till harvest comes in.' 'And wouldn't I be proud to go with you!' says the dog, 'and get shut (rid) of them ill conducted boys; purshuin' to 'em!' 'Well, well, throw your tail over your arm, and come along.' They got outside the town, and sat down under an old wall, and Jack pulled out his bread and meat, and shared with the dog; and the ass made his dinner on a bunch of thistles. While they were eating and chatting, what should come by but a poor half-starved cat, and the moll-row he gave out of him would make your heart ache. 'You look as if you saw the tops of nine houses since breakfast,' says Jack; 'here's a bone and something on it.' 'May your child never know a hungry belly!' says Tom; 'it's myself that's in need of your kindness. May I be so bold as to ask where yez are all going?' 'We're going to seek our fortune till the harvest comes in, and you may join us if you like.' 'And that I'll do with a heart and a half,' says the cat, ' and thank'ee for asking me.' Off they set again, and just as the shadows of the trees were three times as long as themselves, they heard a great cackling in a field inside the road, and out over the ditch jumped a fox with a fine black cock in his mouth. 'Oh you anointed villian!' says the ass, roaring like thunder. 'At him, good dog!' says Jack, and the word wasn't out of his mouth when Coley was in full sweep after the Moddhera Rua (Red Dog). Reynard dropped his prize like a hot potato, and was off like shot, and the poor cock came back fluttering and trembling to Jack and his comrades. 'O musha, naybours!' says he, 'wasn't it the hoith o' luck that threw you in my way! Maybe I won't remember your kindness if ever I find you in hardship; and where in the world are you all going?' 'We're going to seek our fortune till the harvest comes in; you may join our party if you like, and sit on Neddy's crupper when your legs and wings are tired.' Well, the march began again, and just as the sun was gone down they looked around, and there was neither cabin nor farm house in sight. 'Well, well,' says Jack, 'the worse luck now the better another time, and it's only a summer night after all. We'll go into the wood, and make our bed on the long grass.' No sooner said than done. Jack stretched himself on a bunch of dry grass, the ass lay near him, the dog and cat lay in the ass's warm lap, and the cock went to roost in the next tree. Well, the soundness of deep sleep was over them all, when the cock took a notion of crowing. 'Bother you, Cuileach Dhu (Black Cock)!' says the ass; 'you disturbed me from as nice a wisp of hay as ever I tasted. What's the matter?' 'It's daybreak that's the matter; don't you see light yonder?' 'I see a light indeed,' says Jack, 'but it's from a candle it's coming, and not from the sun. As you've roused us we may as well go over, and ask for lodging.' So they all shook themselves, and went on through grass, and rocks, and briars, till they got down into a hollow, and there was the light coming through the shadow, and along with it came singing, and laughing, and cursing. 'Easy, boys!' says Jack; 'walk on your tippy toes till we see what sort of people we have to deal with.' So they crept near the window, and there they saw six robbers inside, with pistols, and blunderbushes, and cutlashes, sitting at a table, eating roast beef and pork, and drinking mulled beer, and wine, and whisky punch. 'Wasn't that a fine haul we made at the Lord of Dunlavin's!' says one ugly-looking thief with his mouth full, 'and it's little we'd get only for the honest porter; here's his purty health!' 'The porter's purty health!' cried out every one of them, and Jack bent his finger at his comrades. 'Close your ranks, my men,' says he in a whisper, 'and let every one mind the word of command.' So the ass put his fore-hoofs on the sill of the window, the dog got on the ass's head, the cat got on the dog's head, and the cock on the cat's head. Then Jack made a sign, and they all sung out like mad. 'Hee haw, hee-haw!' roared the ass; 'bow-wow!' barked the dog; 'meaw-meaw!' cried the cat; 'cock-a-doodle-doo!' crowed the cock. 'Level your pistols!' cried Jack, 'and make smithereens of 'em. Don't leave a mother's son of 'em alive; present, fire!' With that they gave another halloo, and smashed every pane in the window. The robbers were frightened out of their lives. They blew out the candles, threw down the table, and skelped out at the back door as if they were in earnest, and never drew rein till they were in the very heart of the wood. Jack and his party got into the room, closed the shutters, lighted the candles, and ate and drank till hunger and thirst were gone. Then they lay down to rest -- Jack in the bed, the ass in the stable, the dog on the door mat, the cat by the fire, and the cock on the perch. At first the robbers were very glad to find themselves safe in the thick wood, but they soon began to get vexed. 'This damp grass is very different from our warm room,' says one; 'I was obliged to drop a fine pig's crubeen (foot),' says another; ' I didn't get a foy-spoonful of my last tumbler,' says another; 'and all the Lord of Dunlavin's goold and silver that we left behind!' says the last. 'I think I'll venture back,' says the captain, 'and see if we can recover anything.' 'That's a good boy!' said they all, and away he went. The lights were all out, and so he groped his way to the fire, and there the cat flew in his face, and tore him with teeth and claws. He let a roar out of him, and made for the room door, to look for a candle inside. He trod on the dog's tail, and if he did, he got the marks of his teeth in his arms, and legs, and thighs. 'Millia murdher (thousand murders)!' cried he; 'I wish I was out of this unlucky house.' When he got to the street door, the cock dropped down upon him with his claws and bill, and what the cat and dog done to him was only a flay-bite to what he got from the cock. 'Oh, tattheration to you all, you unfeeling vagabones!' says he, when he recovered his breath; and he staggered and spun round and round till he reeled into the stable, back foremost, but the ass received him with a kick on the broadest part of his small clothes, and laid him comfortably on the dunghill. When he came to himself, he scratched his head, and began to think what happened him; and as soon as he found that his legs were able to carry him, he crawled away, dragging one foot after another, till he reached the wood. 'Well, well,' cried them all, when he came within hearing, 'any chance of our property?' 'You may say chance,' says he, 'and it's itself is the poor chance all out. Ah, will any of you pull a bed of dry grass for me? All the sticking-plaster in Inniscorfy (Enniscorthy) will be too little for the cuts and bruises I have on me. Ah, if you only knew what I have gone through for you! When I got to the kitchen fire, looking for a sod of lighted turf, what should be there but a colliach (old woman) carding flax, and you may see the marks she left on my face with the cards. I made to the room door as fast as I could, and who should I stumble over but a cobbler and his seat, and if he did not work at me with his awls and his pinchers you may call me a rogue. Well, I got away from him somehow, but when I was passing through the door, it must be the divel himself that pounced down on me with his claws, and his teeth, that were equal to sixpenny nails, and his wings -- ill luck be in his road! Well, at last I reached the stable, and there, by way of salute, I got a pelt from a sledge-hammer that sent me half a mile off. If you don't believe me, I'll give you leave to go and judge for yourselves.' 'Oh, my poor captain,' says they, 'we believe you to the nines. Catch us, indeed, going within a hen's race of that unlucky cabin!' Well, before the sun shook his doublet next morning, Jack and his comrades were up and about. They made a hearty breakfast on what was left the night before, and then they all agreed to set off to the castle of the Lord of Dunlavin, and give him back all his gold and silver. Jack put it all in the two ends of a sack, and laid it across Neddy's back, and all took the road in their hands. Away they went, through bogs, up hills, down dales, and sometimes along the yalla high road, till they came to the hall door of the Lord of Dunlavin, and who should be there, airing his powdered head, his white stockings, and his red breeches, but the thief of a porter. He gave a cross look to the visitors, and says he to Jack, 'What do you want here, my fine fellow? There isn't room for you all.' 'We want,' says Jack, 'what I'm sure you haven't to give us -- and that is, common civility.' 'Come, be off, you lazy geochachs (greedy strollers)!' says he, 'while a cat 'ud be licking her ear, or I'll let the dogs at you.' 'Would you tell a body,' says the cock that was perched on the ass's head, 'who was it that opened the door for the robbers the other night?' Ah! maybe the porter's red face didn't turn the colour of his frill, and the Lord of Dunlavin and his pretty daughter, that were standing at the parlour window unknownst to the porter, put out their heads. 'I'd be glad, Barney,' says the master, 'to hear your answer to the gentleman with the red comb on him.' 'Ah, my lord, don't believe the rascal; sure I didn't open the door to the six robbers.' 'And how did you know there were six, you poor innocent?' said the lord. 'Never mind, sir,' says Jack, 'all your gold and silver is there in that sack, and I don't think you will begrudge us our supper and bed after our long march from the wood of Athsalach (muddy ford).' 'Begrudge, indeed! Not one of you will ever see a poor day if I can help it.' So all were welcomed to their heart's content, and the ass, and the dog, and the cock got the best posts in the farmyard, and the cat took possession of the kitchen. The lord took Jack in hands, dressed him from top to toe in broadcloth, and frills as white as snow, and turnpumps, and put a watch in his fob. When they sat down to dinner, the lady of the house said Jack had the air of a born gentleman about him, and the lord said he'd make him his steward. Jack brought his mother, and settled her comfortably near the castle, and all were as happy as you please. The old woman that told me the story said Jack and the young lady were married ; but if they were, I hope he spent two or three years getting the edication of a gentleman. I don't think that a country boy would feel comfortable, striving to find discoorse for a well-bred young lady, the length of a summer's day, even if he had the Academy of Compliments and the Complete Letter Writer by heart.* *Footnote: Two chap or pedler's books, great favourites among our populace during the last century, and still finding some readers. The concluding observations, as well as the body of the story, are in the words of the original narrator.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,The Animals and the Devil,Finland,NA,NA,"However, after the meal the servant warned the cat, 'Flee, otherwise early tomorrow you'll be slaughtered.' The cat took the warning to heart, and the next morning when they wanted to kill her, she had fled, and they heard nothing more from her. The next evening the man said, 'Tomorrow morning we have to slaughter our rooster.' The servant warned the rooster as well, and he too hurriedly left the farmyard. In like manner the ox ran away as well, and the three of them came together in the woods. They wandered on through the trees. A wolf approached them, and they asked him, 'Where are you going?' 'I'm headed for the herd over there,' answered the wolf. 'I'll try to catch a little lamb for a snack.' 'Don't go there!' replied the others. 'They will kill you. Instead, come with us.' The wolf agreed to this, and the four went on their way. A bear approached them, and they asked him, 'Where are you going?' 'To the village over there, where I'll get some oats to eat,' answered the bear. 'Don't go there; it's too dangerous,' said the others. You'd better come with us instead.' So the bear joined them, and after the five of them had gone a little further they came upon a hare. They convinced him to come with them as well. Coming to a village, and they approached a bath-house. A dog lay at its entrance, and he warned them, 'Don't go inside. Evil spirits live there.' But they went inside anyway. The bear laid himself down on the doorstep; the wolf between the doorposts; the ox found a corner for himself; the rooster flew onto a rafter; the cat lay on the hearth; the hare under the bench; and the dog in the middle of the room. The devil came to the bath-house and opened the door. The wolf immediately bit him in the leg; the bear hit him with his paw; the ox butted him with his horns; the rooster began to crow and the cat to meow; the hare jumped back and forth under the bench, and the dog ran around and around the room. Frightened by all the confusion, the devil fell over backwards. Picking himself up, he freed himself from his enemies' claws and fled out the door into the woods, where he claimed to his companions: 'Don't go into the bath-house. Powerful strangers are there. On the doorstep a tailor stuck me with his needles. A rough-haired man hit me in the chest with his fists. A cobbler hit me with his gear-bag until I fell over backward. The apprentices ran around the room, jumping from one corner to the other with glowing eyes, trying to beat me, but they couldn't find me. One of them [the rooster] cried out to them as I was getting away: 'Grab the guy! Grab the guy!''",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,The Bremen Town Musicians,Germany,NA,NA,"A man had a donkey, who for long years had untiringly carried sacks to the mill, but whose strength was now failing, so that he was becoming less and less able to work. Then his master thought that he would no longer feed him, but the donkey noticed that it was not a good wind that was blowing and ran away, setting forth on the road to Bremen, where he thought he could become a town musician. When he had gone a little way he found a hunting dog lying in the road, who was panting like one who had run himself tired. 'Why are you panting so, Grab-Hold?' asked the donkey. 'Oh,' said the dog, 'because I am old and am getting weaker every day and can no longer go hunting, my master wanted to kill me, so I ran off; but now how should I earn my bread?' 'Do you know what,' said the donkey, 'I am going to Bremen and am going to become a town musician there. Come along and take up music too. I'll play the lute, and you can beat the drums.' The dog was satisfied with that, and they went further. It didn't take long, before they came to a cat sitting by the side of the road and making a face like three days of rainy weather. 'What has crossed you, old Beard-Licker?' said the donkey. 'Oh,' answered the cat, 'who can be cheerful when his neck is at risk? I am getting on in years, and my teeth are getting dull, so I would rather sit behind the stove and purr than to chase around after mice. Therefore my mistress wanted to drown me, but I took off. Now good advice is scarce. Where should I go?' 'Come with us to Bremen. After all, you understand night music. You can become a town musician there.' The cat agreed and went along. Then the three refugees came to a farmyard, and the rooster of the house was sitting on the gate crying with all his might. 'Your cries pierce one's marrow and bone,' said the donkey. 'What are you up to?' 'I just prophesied good weather,' said the rooster, 'because it is Our Dear Lady's Day, when she washes the Christ Child's shirts and wants to dry them; but because Sunday guests are coming tomorrow, the lady of the house has no mercy and told the cook that she wants to eat me tomorrow in the soup, so I am supposed to let them cut off my head this evening. Now I am going to cry at the top of my voice as long as I can.' 'Hey now, Red-Head,' said the donkey, 'instead come away with us. We're going to Bremen. You can always find something better than death. You have a good voice, and when we make music together, it will be very pleasing.' The rooster was happy with the proposal, and all four went off together. However, they could not reach the city of Bremen in one day, and in the evening they came into a forest, where they would spend the night. The donkey and the dog lay down under a big tree, but the cat and the rooster took to the branches. The rooster flew right to the top, where it was safest for him. Before falling asleep he looked around once again in all four directions, and he thought that he saw a little spark burning in the distance. He hollered to his companions, that there must be a house not too far away, for a light was shining. The donkey said, 'Then we must get up and go there, because the lodging here is poor.' The dog said that he could do well with a few bones with a little meat on them. Thus they set forth toward the place where the light was, and they soon saw it glistening more brightly, and it became larger and larger, until they came to the front of a brightly lit robbers' house. The donkey, the largest of them, approached the window and looked in. 'What do you see, Gray-Horse?' asked the rooster. 'What do I see?' answered the donkey. 'A table set with good things to eat and drink, and robbers sitting there enjoying themselves.' 'That would be something for us,' said the rooster. 'Ee-ah, ee-ah, oh, if we were there!' said the donkey. Then the animals discussed how they might drive the robbers away, and at last they came upon a plan. The donkey was to stand with his front feet on the window, the dog to jump on the donkey's back, the cat to climb onto the dog, and finally the rooster would fly up and sit on the cat's head. When they had done that, at a signal they began to make their music all together. The donkey brayed, the dog barked, the cat meowed and the rooster crowed. Then they crashed through the window into the room, shattering the panes. The robbers jumped up at the terrible bellowing, thinking that a ghost was coming in, and fled in great fear out into the woods. Then the four companions seated themselves at the table and freely partook of the leftovers, eating as if they would get nothing more for four weeks. When the four minstrels were finished, they put out the light and looked for a place to sleep, each according to his nature and his desire. The donkey lay down on the manure pile, the dog behind the door, the cat on the hearth next to the warm ashes, and the rooster sat on the beam of the roof. Because they were tired from their long journey, they soon fell asleep. When midnight had passed and the robbers saw from the distance that the light was no longer burning in the house, and everything appeared to be quiet, the captain said, 'We shouldn't have let ourselves be chased off,' and he told one of them to go back and investigate the house. The one they sent found everything still, and went into the kitchen to strike a light. He mistook the cat's glowing, fiery eyes for live coals, and held a sulfur match next to them, so that it would catch fire. But the cat didn't think this was funny and jumped into his face, spitting, and scratching. He was terribly frightened and ran toward the back door, but the dog, who was lying there, jumped up and bit him in the leg. When he ran across the yard past the manure pile, the donkey gave him a healthy blow with his hind foot, and the rooster, who had been awakened from his sleep by the noise and was now alert, cried down from the beam, 'Cock-a-doodle-doo!' Then the robber ran as fast as he could back to his captain and said, 'Oh, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, she blew at me and scratched my face with her long fingers. And there is a man with a knife standing in front of the door, and he stabbed me in the leg. And a black monster is lying in the yard, and it struck at me with a wooden club. And the judge is sitting up there on the roof, and he was calling out, 'Bring the rascal here.' Then I did what I could to get away.' From that time forth, the robbers did not dare go back into the house. However, the four Bremen Musicians liked it so well there, that they never left it again. And the person who just told that, his mouth is still warm.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,"The Bull, the Tup, the Cock, and the Steg",England,NA,NA,"A bull, a tup [ram], a cock, and a steg [gander] set out together to seek their fortune. When it got to night, they came to a house, and asked for a night's lodging, but the folks said no. However, at last they were let come into the kitchen. The bull said he would lie on the floor, the tup said he would lie by his side, the cock would perch on the rannel bank, and the steg would stand at t' back of the door. At midnight, when all was quiet, two men, meaning to rob the house, were heard parleying outside which should go in, and which watch outside. One went in, the bull got up and knocked him about, the tup did the same, and the cock said, 'Fetch him here, I'll pick out his eyen.' So he says, 'I'd best be out of this.' As he went to the door, the steg took him by the nose with its neb, and beat him with its wings. The other said when he got out, 'What have you done?' 'Done!' says he, 'The devil knocked me about; when he'd done, one of his imps set on. A thin wi' glowering eyen said, 'Fetch him here,' etc. and when I got to the door, a blacksmith took me by the snout with his tongs, and flapped me by the lugs with his leather apron.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,The Choristers of St. Gudule,Flanders,NA,NA,"The miller of Sandhills had a donkey which had served him well in its time, but was now too old to work. The miller was a careful man, who did not believe in feeding useless mouths, so he decided that he would sell the donkey for the price of its skin. 'I do not suppose I shall get very much for the wretched beast,' he said, regarding poor Grayskin as he stood with hanging head in his stall, 'but I shall save the cost of his corn anyhow, and that is always something.' Left alone, Grayskin reflected sadly upon the fate in store for him. 'Such is the way of the world,' he thought. 'When I was young and hearty nothing was too good for me. Now I'm old and useless I am to be cast out. But am I so useless after all? True, I can no longer pull a cart to market, but I have a magnificent voice still. There must be a place somewhere for one who can sing as beautifully as I. I'll go to the Cathedral of St. Gudule in Brussels and offer myself as a chorister.' Grayskin lost no time in acting upon his resolve, but left his stable immediately and set out on the road to Brussels. Passing the burgomaster's house he saw an old hound sitting disconsolately on the doorstep. 'Hallo, friend!' said he. 'What is the matter with you? You seem very sad this morning.' 'The matter is that I am tired of life,' answered the dog. 'I'm getting old and stiff, and I can no longer hunt hares for my master as I used to do. The result is that I am reckoned good for nothing, and they grudge me every morsel of food I put into my mouth.' 'Come, come, cheer up, my friend,' said Grayskin. 'Never say die! I am in a similar case to yourself and have just left my master for precisely the same reason. My plan is to go to the Cathedral of St. Gudule and offer my services to the master of the choir. If I may say so without conceit, I have a lovely voice -- one must make the most of one's gifts, you know -- and I ought to be able to command good pay.' 'Well, if it comes to that,' said the dog, 'I can sing too. I sang a lovely song to the moon last night, and if you'll believe me, all the people in our street opened their windows to listen. I sang for quite an hour, and I'd have gone on longer if some malicious person, who was no doubt jealous, had not thrown an old boot at my head.' 'Excellent,' said Grayskin. 'Come along with me. You shall sing tenor and I'll sing bass. We'll make a famous pair.' So the dog joined company with Grayskin, and they went on together towards Brussels. A little farther down the road they saw a cat sitting on the rubbish heap outside a miserable hovel. The creature was half blind with age and had a face as long as a fiddle. 'Why, what is the matter with you?' asked Grayskin, who had a tender heart. 'Matter enough,' said the cat. 'I've just been turned out of house and home, and all because I took a little piece of bacon from the larder. Upon my honor, it was no bigger than a baby's fist, but they made as much fuss as though it had been a whole gammon. I was beaten and kicked out to starve. If I could catch mice as I used to do, it would not matter so much, but the mice are too quick for me nowadays. They laugh at me. Nothing remains for me but to die, and I hope it may be soon.' 'Nonsense,' said Grayskin. 'You shall live to laugh at all your troubles. Come along with us and sing in the choir at St. Gudule. Your voice is a little too thin for my own taste, but you'll make a very good soprano in a trio. What do you say?' 'You give me new hopes,' answered the cat. 'Of course I'll join you,' and so the three went on together. Towards nightfall they arrived at a farmyard, on the gate of which a cock was crowing lustily. 'Hall!' said Grayskin. 'What's all this about?' 'I am singing my last song on earth,' said the cock. 'An hour ago I sang a song, although it is not my usual custom to crow in the afternoon, and as I ended I heard the farmer's wife say, 'Hearken to Chanticleer. He's crowing for fine weather tomorrow. I wonder if he'd crow so loudly if he knew that we had guests coming, and that he was going into the pot to make their soup!' She has a horrid laugh, that woman. I have always hated her!' 'And do you mean to tell me,' said Grayskin, 'that you are going to stay here quite contentedly till they come to wring your neck?' 'What else can I do?' asked Chanticleer. 'Join us and turn your talents to account. We are all beautiful singers and we are going to Brussels to offer ourselves as choristers at St. Gudule. We were a trio before. With you we shall be a quartet, and that's one better!' Chanticleer was only too glad to find a means of escape, so he willingly joined the party, and they once more took the road. A little while afterwards they came to a thick wood, which was the haunt of a notorious band of robbers. There they decided to rest for the night, so Grayskin and the dog lay down beneath the shelter of a large beech tree, while the cat climbed onto one of the branches, and Chanticleer perched himself at the very top. From this lofty post he could see over the whole wood, and it was not long before he espied a light twinkling among the trees not far away. 'There must be a house of some sort over there,' he said to his companions. 'Shall we go and see? We may find something to eat.' 'Or some straw to lie upon, at any rate,' said Grayskin. 'This damp ground gives me rheumatics in my old bones.' 'I was just thinking the same thing,' said the dog. 'Let us go.' So the four choristers, led by the cock, walked in the direction from which the light came, and before long they found themselves in front of a little house, the windows of which were brilliantly lighted. In order to reach to the windows the animals made a tower of their bodies, with Grayskin at the bottom and Chanticleer at the top. Now this house was the abode of a band of robbers, who, at that very moment, were seated before a table laden with all kinds of food. There they sat and feasted, and poor Chanticleer's mouth watered as he watched them. 'Is there anybody inside?' asked the dog, who was impatient. 'Hush!' said Chanticleer. 'Men! They're eating their dinner!' 'I wish I was,' said the dog. 'What are they eating?' 'All sorts of things -- sausage and fish ....' 'Sausage!' said the dog. 'Fish!' said the cat. 'And ever so many other delicacies,' Chanticleer went on. 'Look here, friends. Wouldn't it be a fine thing if we could get a share of their meal? I confess that my stomach aches with hunger.' 'And mine too,' said the dog. 'I've never been so hungry in my life. But how are we to get the food?' 'Let us serenade them, and perhaps they'll throw us something as a reward,' said Grayskin. 'Music, you know, has charms to soothe the savage breast.' This seemed such a good idea that the choristers lost no time in putting it into execution. All four began to sing. They donkey hee-hawed, the dog howled, the cat meowed, and the cock crowed. From the noise they made one would have thought that the heavens were falling. The effect of this marvelous quartet upon the robbers was instantaneous. Leaping from their seats, they ran from place to place in mortal terror, tumbling over one another, oversetting chairs and adding to the racket by their shrieks and cries. At that moment the cock fell against the window, breaking the glass to smithereens. The donkey gave the frame a push, and all the four precipitated themselves into the room. This was the last straw. The robbers could stand no more. Half mad with fear they rushed to the door and fled into the forest. Then our four choristers drew up to the table and set to work upon the food with which it was laden. Their long walk had given them a good appetite, so that there was little left by the time they had finished. Feeling drowsy after their meal, they then settled themselves to sleep. The donkey made himself a bed on a heap of straw in the yard; the dog stretched himself out upon the mat by the house door; the cat lay among the warm cinders on the hearth; and the cock perched upon the rooftop. A few minutes more and they were all fast asleep. Meanwhile the robbers, who had retreated some distance into the forest, waited anxiously for something dreadful to happen. An hour passed by and there was neither sight nor sound to alarm them, so they began to feel a little ashamed of their cowardice. Creeping stealthily nearer to the cottage, they saw that everything was still, and that no light was showing from the windows. At last the robber chief sent his lieutenant to spy out the land, and this man, returning to the cottage without mishap, found his way into the kitchen and proceeded to light a candle. He had no matches, but he saw two sparks of fire among the cinders on the hearth, so he went forward to get a light from them. Now this light came from the cat's eyes, and as soon as puss felt the robber touch her, she sprang up, snarling and spitting, and scratched his face. With a scream of terror, he dropped his candle and rushed for the door, and as he passed, the dog bit him in the leg. By this time the noise had awakened Grayskin, who got upon his feet just as the man ran by, and helped him forward with a might kick, which sent him flying out into the roadway. Seeing this, the cock on the housetop spread his wings and crowed in triumph, 'Cock-a-doodle-doo!' I wish you could have seen the way that robber ran! He covered the ground so quickly that he seemed like a flying shadow, and I am perfectly certain that not even a hare could have overtaken him. At last, panting for breath, he rejoined his comrades in the forest, who were eagerly awaiting his return. 'Well,' cried the chief, 'is the way clear? Can we go back?' 'Not on any account,' cried the robber. 'There's a horrible witch in the kitchen. Directly I entered she sprang at me and tore my face with her long claws, calling out at the same time to her creatures to come and devour me. As I ran through the door, one of them buried his fangs in my leg, and a little farther on, in the yard, a great black monster struck at me with an enormous club, giving me a blow that nearly broke my backbone. On the roof a little demon with wings and eyes that shone like coals of fire cried, 'Stop him! Eat him! Stop him! Eat him!' You may guess that I did not wait for more. It is a miracle that I have escaped with my life!' When they heard this terrible story the robbers lost no time in decamping, and such was their terror that they deserted the forest altogether and went away to another part of the country. The result was that our four friends were left to dwell in the cottage, where they lived happily for the rest of their lives, and as they had now everything they wanted, they quite gave up their idea of going to St. Gudule.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,"The Dog, the Cat, the Ass, and the Cock",USA,NA,NA,"Once upon a time, a long while ago, when beasts and fowls could talk, it happened that a dog lived in a farmer's barnyard. By and by he grew tired of watching the house all night and working hard all day, so he thought he'd go out into the world to seek his fortune. One fine day, when the farmer had gone away, he started off down the road. He hadn't gone far when he spied a cat curled up asleep on a door-stone in a farmer's yard, so he looked over the fence and called to the cat, 'I'm going out into the world to seek my fortune. Don't you want to come along too?' But the cat said she was very comfortable where she was, and didn't think she cared to go traveling. But the dog told her that by and by when she got old the farmer wouldn't let her lie on his sunny door-stone, but would make her lie in the cold, no matter whether it snowed or not. So the cat concluded she'd go along too, and they walked down the road arm in arm. They hadn't gone far when they spied a jackass eating grass in a farmer's yard. So the dog looked over the fence and called to the jackass, 'We're going out into the world to seek our fortune. Don't you want to come along too?' But the jackass said he was very comfortable where he was, and didn't think he cared to go traveling. But the dog told him that by and by, when he got old and stiff, he'd have to work early and late, year after year, for only just what he would eat, and short allowance at that. So the jackass concluded to go along too, and they all walked down the road arm in arm. They hadn't gone far when they spied a cock crowing in a farmer's yard, so the dog looked over the fence and called, 'We're going out into the world to seek our fortune. Don't you want to come along too?' But the rooster said he was very comfortable where he was, and didn't think he cared to go traveling. But the dog told him that by and by, when it came Thanksgiving, pop would go his head, and he'd make a fine dinner for the farmer. So the rooster concluded he'd go along too, and they all walked down the road arm in arm. Now they had neglected to take anything to eat along with them, and when night overtook them, weary, footsore, and hungry, they were in a dense forest, and they all began to blame the dog for getting them into such a scrape. The ass proposed that the cock should fly to the top of a high tree to see if he could discover a place for them to lodge. He had scarcely perched on a limb before he called to his friends that a house was a little way off, for he could see a light in the window. The dog called to him to come down and lead the was to the house, and they all walked off arm in arm to the house. When they got there it was perfectly still about the house. They could hear no one inside. The ass kicked at the door, but no one answered. They looked about and found the house had only one window, and that was so high up they couldn't look in. He proposed that the jackass should stand on his hind legs, with his forelegs resting against the house, while the dog should clamber up his back and stand on his head, the cat run up the backs of both, and the rooster fly to the cat's head, and then he could just look in at the window. 'Hurry and tell what you see,' said the jackass, 'for my neck is breaking off.' 'I see a fire on a hearth and a table loaded with all sorts of fine things to eat: turkey and plum pudding, and pan-dowdy, and a band of men sitting round the table.' 'Zounds!' said the dog, 'we must get in.' So the rooster flew against the window with such a crash that it scared the robbers -- for this was a band of robbers -- nearly to death. They jumped up from the table so quickly that they overturned their chairs and whisked out the candles, while in flew the rooster, the cat, and the dog at the window, while the jackass went round and waited at the door till the robbers came out and ran away. Then the beasts lighted the candles again, and picked up the chairs, and sat down and had a good supper. Then they began to look about to see how they should dispose of themselves for the night. The jackass went out in the barn to sleep in the hay, the dog lay on the rug by the hearth, the cat took up her bed among the warm ashes, and the rooster flew to the ridgepole of the house, and soon all were fast asleep, being very tired by their long day's journey. By and by the robbers plucked up courage, and about midnight came back to the house to see if perchance they had not been scared at their shadows. Two of them got in at the window to take a survey, and seeing the cat's glowing eyes in the ashes mistook them for coals, and scratching a match in them the cat sunk her claws in his hand, which terrified him so much that in attempting to escape he ran against the dog, and he in turn caught the robber by the leg and bit him. By this time the tumult had awakened the ass, and just as the robber rushed out at the door the jackass met him and kicked him ten feet in the air, while the rooster set up a hideous crowing. It took but a few minutes for the robbers to escape to the woods and find their companions, to whom they told a doleful tale, how in trying to light a match at the fireplace the devil with red-hot eyes stuck his claws into his hands, a second devil attacked him in the rear, while another devil kicked him into the air, and as he came down on the greensward, more dead than alive, another horrid demon form the housetop cried out, 'Throw the rascal up her, through the rascal up here.' The thieves could never be induced to go back to the house. They thought it haunted by devils. So our friends, the jackass, the dog, the cat, and the rooster, lived there happy forever after, preferring it to traveling about to see the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,The Robber and the Farm Animals,Germany/Switzerland,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a miller's servant who had served his master faithfully and diligently for many years. He had grown old in the mill, and the heavy work that he had to do there finally surpassed his strength. So one day he said to his master: 'I can no longer serve you; I am too weak. I am therefore asking you for my dismissal and my wages.' The miller said: 'The time of wandering servants has passed. You are free to leave if you wish, but you will receive no wages. Now the old servant would sooner give up his wages than to continue to be tormented in the mill, so he took leave from his master. Before leaving home he went to the animals that until now he had fed and tended, in order to bid them farewell. While taking leave from the horse, it said to him: 'Where are you going?' 'I have to leave,' he said. 'I cannot take it here any longer.' And when he set forth, the horse followed along after him. He then went to the ox, stroked him once again, and said: 'God be with you, old fellow!' 'Where are you going?' spoke the ox. 'Oh, I must leave. I cannot take it here any longer,' said the miller's servant and sadly went on his way to take leave from the dog. The ox followed along behind, just as the horse had done. And the other animals to whom he said farewell -- the dog, the cat, the goose, and the rooster -- all did the same thing. He made his way out into the country, where he first noticed that the faithful animals were following him. He spoke to them in a friendly manner, asking them to turn around and return home. 'I have nothing more for myself,' he said, 'and I can no longer care for you.' But the animals told him that they would not abandon him, and they contentedly followed along behind. After several days they came to a great forest. Here the horse and the ox found good grass, which the goose and the rooster enjoyed as well. However, the other animals -- the cat and the dog -- had to suffer hunger, as did the old miller's servant; but they did not grumble and complain. Finally, after having gone very deep into the forest, they suddenly saw a large, beautiful house before them. It was locked up securely. Only an empty stall was open, and from here they could go through the barn into the house itself. Because no one could be seen in the house, the servant decided to stay there with his animals, and he assigned each one to a place. He put the horse up front in the stall. He led the ox to the other side. The rooster was given a place on the roof, the dog on the manure pile, the cat on the hearth, and the goose behind the stove. Then he gave each one his feed, which was plentifully stored in the house. He himself ate and drank all he wanted, then fell asleep in a good bed, which was all made up in the bedroom. During the night, while he was fast asleep, the robber -- who owned the forest house -- returned. As he stepped into yard, the dog jumped on him furiously, and barked at him. The rooster cried down from the roof: 'Cock-a-doodle-doo, cock-a-doodle-doo!' All this terrified the robber, for he had never seen farm animals that live with people, knowing instead only the wild animals of the forest. He fled hurriedly into the stall, but there the horse kicked out from behind, hitting him in the side. He staggered around and around, and only with difficulty could he retreat into the back part of the stall. He scarcely arrived there when the ox turned around and tried to pick him up on his horns. This frightened him anew, and he ran as fast as he could through the barn and into the kitchen, where he wanted to strike a light and see what was there. Feeling around the hearth, he touched the cat, which jumped on him and scratched him with its claws until jumped away head over heels, and tried to hide behind the stove in the main room. The goose jumped up, screaming and beating its wings. The terrified robber fled into the bedroom. There the miller's servant was snoring mightily like a purring spinning wheel, and the robber thought the entire room was filled with strangers. You had better believe that he was overcome by a terrible fear. He rushed out of the house and ran into the woods, not stopping until until he had found his fellow robbers. He began talking: 'I don't know what has happened in our house. Some strange people are living there. When I stepped into the yard a large wildman jumped at me, yelling and bellowing so terribly that I thought he would kill me. An another one cheered him on, calling down from the roof: 'Hit him for me too! Hit him for me too!' The first one was bad enough; I wasn't going to wait for more of them to jump me, so I fled into the stall. There a shoemaker threw a last at my side, and I can still feel where it hit. I ran to the back of the stall. A pitchfork maker was standing there who tried to impale me on his pitchfork. I ran into the kitchen, where a hackle maker beat me with his hackle [a sharp-toothed tool for combing flax]. I tried to hide behind the stove, but there was a shovel maker there who beat me with his shovel. Finally I ran into the bedroom, but there were so many others snoring in there that was happy to escape with my life.' When the robbers heard this, they were so horrified that not a one of them had any desire to enter the house. To the contrary, they believed that the entire region was threatened by these strange people. That same night they departed for another country, and they never returned. The miller's servant lived in peace in the robbers' house with his faithful animals. He no longer had to suffer in his old age, for the beautiful garden next to the house produced more fruit, vegetables, and all kinds of food every year than he and his animals could eat.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,The Sheep and the Pig Who Set Up House,Norway,NA,NA,"So it went on, till, one day, the dairymaid came and gave him still more food, and then she said, 'Eat. away, sheep; you won't be much longer here; we are going to kill you tomorrow.' It is an old saying, that women's counsel is always worth having, and that there is a cure and physic for everything but death. 'But, after all,' said the sheep to himself, 'there may be a cure even for death this time.' So he ate till he was ready to burst; and when he was crammed full, he butted out the door of the pen, and took his way to the neighboring farm. There he went to the pigsty to a pig whom he had known out on the common, and ever since had been the best friends with. 'Good day!' said the sheep, 'and thanks for our last merry meeting.' 'Good day!' answered the pig, 'and the same to you.' 'Do you know,' said the sheep, 'why it is you are so well off, and why it is they fatten you and take such pains with you?' 'No, I don't,' said the pig. 'Many a flask empties the cask; I suppose you know that,' said the sheep. 'They are going to kill and eat you.' 'Are they?' said the pig. 'Well, I hope they'll say grace after meat.' 'If you will do as I do,' said the sheep, 'we'll go off to the wood, build us a house, and set up for ourselves. A home is a home be it ever so homely.' Yes! The pig was willing enough. 'Good company is such a comfort,' he said, and so the two set off. So, when they had gone a bit they met a goose. 'Good day, good sirs, and thanks for our last merry meeting,' said the goose. 'Whither away so fast today?' 'Good day, and the same to you,' said the sheep. 'You must know we were too well off at home, and so we are going to set up for ourselves in the wood, for you know every man's house is his castle.' 'Well!' said the goose, 'it's much the same with me where I am. Can't I go with you too, for it's child's play when three share the day.' 'With gossip and gabble is built neither house nor stable,' said the pig. 'Let us know what you can do.' 'By cunning and skill a cripple can do what he will,' said the goose. 'I can pluck moss and stuff it into the seams of the planks, and your house will be tight and warm.' 'Yes! They would give him leave, for above all things, piggy wished to be warm and comfortable. So, when they had gone a bit farther -- the goose had hard work to walk so fast -- they met a hare, who came frisking out of the wood. 'Good day, good sirs, and thanks for our last merry meeting,' she said. 'How far are you trotting today?' 'Good day, and the same to you,' said the sheep. 'We were far too well off at home, and so we're going to the wood, to build us a house, and set up for ourselves, for you know, try all the world round, there's nothing like home.' 'As for that,' said the hare, 'I have a house in every bush -- yes, a house in every bush; but, yet, I have often said, in winter, 'If I only live till summer, I'll build me a house.' And so I have half a mind to go with you and build one up, after all.' 'Yes!' said the pig. 'If we ever get into a scrape, we might use you to scare away the dogs, for you don't fancy you could help us in house building.' 'He who lives long enough always finds work enough to do,' said the hare. 'I have teeth to gnaw pegs, and paws to drive them into the wall, so I can very well set up to be a carpenter, for 'good tools make good work,' as the man said, when he flayed the mare with a gimlet.' Yes! He too got leave to go with them and build their house; there was nothing more to be said about it. When they had gone a bit farther they met a cock. 'Good day, good sirs,' said the cock, 'and thanks for our last merry meeting. Whither are ye going today, gentlemen?' 'Good day, and the same to you,' said the sheep. 'At home we were too well off, and so we are going off to the wood to build us a house, and set up for ourselves; for he who out of doors shall bake, loses at last both coal and cake.' 'Well! said the cock, 'that's just my case; but it's better to sit on one's own perch, for then one can never be left in the lurch, and, besides, all cocks crow loudest at home. Now, if I might have leave to join such a gallant company, I also would like to go to the wood and build a house.' 'Ay! Ay!' said the pig. 'Flapping and crowing sets tongues a-going; but a jaw on a stick never yet laid a brick. How can you ever help us to build a house?' 'Oh!' said the cock, 'that house will never have a clock, where there is neither dog nor cock. I am up early, and I wake every one.' 'Very true,' said the pig. 'The morning hour has a golden dower; let him come with us;' for, you must know, piggy was always the soundest sleeper. 'Sleep is the biggest thief,' he said. 'He thinks nothing of stealing half one's life.' So they all set off to the wood, as a band and brotherhood, and built the house. The pig hewed the timber, and the sheep drew it home; the hare was carpenter, and gnawed pegs and bolts, and hammered them into the walls and roof; the goose plucked moss and stuffed it into the seams; the cock crew, and looked out that they did not oversleep themselves in the morning; and when the house was ready, and the roof lined with birch bark, and thatched with turf. There they lived by themselves, and were merry and well. 'Tis good to travel east and west,' said the sheep, 'but after all a home is best.' But you must know that a bit farther on in the wood was a wolf's den, and there lived two graylegs. So when they saw that a new house had risen up hard by, they wanted to know what sort of folk their neighbors were, for they thought to themselves that a good neighbor was better than a brother in a foreign land, and that it was better to live in a good neighborhood than to know many people miles and miles off. So one of them made up an errand, and went into the new house and asked for a light for his pipe. But as soon as ever he got inside the door, the sheep gave him such a butt that he fell head foremost into the stove. Then the pig began to gore and bite him, the goose to nip and peck him, the cock upon the roost to crow and chatter; and as for the hare -- he was so frightened out of his wits, that he ran about aloft and on the floor, and scratched and scrambled in every corner of the house. So after a long time the wolf came out. 'Well!' said the one who waited for him outside, 'neighborhood makes brotherhood. You must have come into a perfect paradise on bare earth, since you stayed so long. But what became of the light, for you have neither pipe nor smoke.' 'Yes, yes!' said the other. 'It was just a nice light and a pleasant company. Such manners I never saw in all my life. But then you know we can't pick and choose in this wicked world, and an unbidden guest gets bad treatment. As soon as I got inside the door, the shoemaker let fly at me with his last, so that I fell head foremost into the stithy fire; and there sat two smiths who blew the bellows and made the sparks fly, and beat and punched me with red hot tongs and pincers, so that they tore whole pieces out of my body. As for the hunter he went scrambling about looking for his gun, and it was good luck he did not find it. And all the while there was another who sat up under the roof, and slapped his arms and sang out, 'Put a hook into him and drag him hither; drag him hither.' That was what he screamed, and if he had only got hold of me, I should never have come out alive.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,The Story of the White Pet,Scotland,NA,NA,"There was a farmer before now who had a White Pet (sheep), and when Christmas was drawing near, he thought that he would kill the White Pet. The White Pet heard that, and he thought he would run away; and that is what he did. He had not gone far when a bull met him. Said the bull to him, 'All hail! White Pet, where are you going?' 'I,' said the White Pet, 'am going to seek my fortune; they were going to kill me for Christmas, and I thought I had better run away.' 'It is better for me,' said the bull, 'to go with you, for they were going to do the very same with me.' 'I am willing,' said the White Pet; 'the larger the party the better the fun.' They went forward until they fell in with a dog. 'All hail! White Pet,' said the dog. 'All hail! dog.' 'Where are you going?' said the dog. 'I am running away, for I heard that they were threatening to kill me for Christmas.' 'They were going to do the very same to me,' said the dog, 'and I will go with you.' 'Come, then,' said the White Pet. They went then, until a cat joined them. 'All hail! White Pet,' said the cat. 'All hail! oh cat.' 'Where are you going?' said the cat. 'I am going to seek my fortune,' said the White Pet, ' because they were going to kill me at Christmas.' 'They were talking about killing me too,' said the cat,' and I had better go with you.' 'Come on then,' said the White Pet. Then they went forward until a cock met them. 'All hail! White Pet,' said the cock. 'All hail to yourself! oh cock,' said the White Pet. 'Where,' said the cock,' are you going?' 'I,' said the White Pet, 'am going away, for they were threatening my death at Christmas.' 'They were going to kill me at the very same time,' said the cock, ' and I will go with you.' 'Come, then,' said the White Pet. They went forward until they fell in with a goose. 'All hail! White Pet,' said the goose. 'All hail to yourself! oh goose,' said the White Pet. 'Where are you going?' said the goose. 'I,' said the White Pet, 'am running away, because they were going to kill me at Christmas.' 'They were going to do that to me too,' said the goose, 'and I will go with you.' The party went forward until the night was drawing on them, and they saw a little light far away; and though far off, they were not long getting there. When they reached the house they said to each other that they would look in at the window to see who was in the house, and they saw thieves counting money; and the White Pet said, 'Let every one of us call his own call. I will call my own call; and let the bull call his own call; let the dog call his own call; and the cat her own call; and the cock his own call; and the goose his own call.' With that they gave out one shout -- Gaire! When the thieves heard the shouting outside, they thought the mischief was there; and they fled out, and they went to a wood that was near them. When the White Pet and his company saw that the house was empty, they went in and they got the money that the thieves had been counting, and they divided it among themselves; and then they thought that they would settle to rest. Said the White Pet, 'Where will you sleep tonight, oh bull?' 'I will sleep,' said the bull, 'behind the door where I used to be.' 'Where will you sleep, White Pet?' 'I will sleep,' said the White Pet, 'in the middle of the floor where I used to be.' 'Where will you sleep, oh dog?' said the White Pet. 'I will sleep beside the fire where I used to be,' said the dog. 'Where will you sleep, oh cat?' 'I will sleep,' said the cat, 'in the candle press, where I like to be.' 'Where will you sleep, oh cock?' said the White Pet. 'I,' said the cock, ' will sleep on the rafters where I used to be.' 'Where will you sleep, oh goose?' 'I will sleep,' said the goose, 'on the manure pile, where I was accustomed to be.' They were not long settled to rest, when one of the thieves returned to look in to see if he could perceive if any one at all was in the house. All things were still, and he went on forward to the candle press for a candle, that he might kindle to make him a light; but when he put his hand in the box the cat thrust her claws into his hand, but he took a candle with him, and he tried to light it. Then the dog got up, and he stuck his tail into a pot of water that was beside the fire; he shook his tail and put out the candle. Then the thief thought that the mischief was in the house, and he fled; but when he was passing the White Pet, he gave him a blow; before he got past the bull, he gave him a kick; and the cock began to crow; and when he went out, the goose began to belabor him with his wings about the shanks. He went to the wood where his comrades were, as fast as was in his legs. They asked him how it had gone with him. 'It went,' said he, 'but middling; when I went to the candle press, there was a man in it who thrust ten knives into my hand; and when I went to the fireside to light the candle, there was a big black man lying there, who was sprinkling water on it to put it out; and when I tried to go out, there was a big man in the middle of the floor, who gave me a shove; and another man behind the door who pushed me out; and there was a little brat on the loft calling out Cuir-anees-an-shaw-ay-s-foni-mi-hayn-da -- Send him up here and I'll do for him; and there was a shoemaker, out on the manure pile, belaboring me about the shanks with his apron.' When the thieves heard that, they did not return to seek their lot of money; and the White Pet and his comrades got it to themselves; and it kept them peaceably as long as they lived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
130,The World's Reward,South Africa,NA,NA,"After he had walked quite a way he met an old bull in the veldt. 'Don't you want to go with me?' asked the dog. 'Where?' was the reply. 'To the land of the aged,' said the dog, 'where troubles don't disturb you, and thanklessness does not deface the deeds of man.' 'Good,' said the bull, 'I am your companion.' The two now walked on and found a ram. The dog laid the plan before him, and all moved off together, until they afterwards came successively upon a donkey, a cat, a cock, and a goose. These joined their company, and the seven set out on their journey. Late one night they came to a house, and through the open door they saw a table spread with all kinds of nice food, of which some robbers were having their fill. It would help nothing to ask for admittance, and seeing that they were hungry, they must think of something else. Therefore the donkey climbed up on the bull, the ram on the donkey, the dog on the ram, the cat on the dog, the goose on the cat, and the cock on the goose, and with one accord they all let out terrible (threatening) noises (cryings). The bull began to bellow, the donkey to bray, the dog to bark, the ram to bleat, the cat to mew, the goose to giggle gaggle, and the cock to crow, all without cessation. The people in the house were frightened perfectly limp; they glanced out through the front door, and there they stared on the strange sight. Some of them took to the ropes over the back lower door, some disappeared through the window, and in a few counts the house was empty. Then the seven old animals climbed down from one another, stepped into the house, and satisfied themselves with the delicious food. But when they had finished, there still remained a great deal of food, too much to take with them on their remaining journey, and so together they contrived a plan to hold their position until the next day after breakfast. The dog said, 'See here, I am accustomed to watch at the front door of my master's house,' and thereupon flopped himself down to sleep; the bull said, 'I go behind the door,' and there he took his position; the ram said, I will go up on to the loft'; the donkey, 'I at the middle door'; the cat, 'I in the fireplace'; the goose, 'I in the back door '; and the cock said, 'I am going to sleep on the bed.' The captain of the robbers after a while sent one of his men back to see if these creatures had yet left the house. The man came very cautiously into the neighborhood, listened and listened, but he heard nothing; he peeped through the window, and saw in the grate just two coals still glimmering, and thereupon started to walk through the front door. There the old dog seized him by the leg. He jumped into the house, but the bull was ready, swept him up with his horns, and tossed him on to the loft. Here the ram received him and pushed him off the loft again. Reaching ground, he made for the middle door, but the donkey set up a terrible braying and at the same time gave him a kick that landed him in the fireplace, where the cat flew at him and scratched him nearly to pieces. He then jumped out through the back door, and here the goose got him by the trousers. When he was some distance away the cock crowed. He thereupon ran so that you could hear the stones rattle in the dark. Purple and crimson and out of breath, he came back to his companions. 'Frightful, frightful!' was all that they could get from him at first, but after a while he told them, 'When I looked through the window I saw in the fireplace two bright coals shining, and when I wanted to go through the front door to go and look, I stepped into an iron trap. I jumped into the house, and there some one seized me with a fork and pitched me up on to the loft, there again someone was ready, and threw me down on all fours. I wanted to fly through the middle door, but there some one blew on a trumpet, and smote me with a sledge hammer so that I did not know where I landed; but coming to very quickly, I found I was in the fireplace, and there another flew at me and scratched the eyes almost out of my head. I thereupon fled out of the back door, and lastly I was attacked on the leg by the sixth with a pair of fire tongs, and when I was still running away, someone shouted out of the house, 'Stop him, stop h - i - m!'' Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1451,Choosing a Bride,Germany (Swabia),"Meier's source: oral, from Oerendingen. Type 1452. Link to a variation of this tale by the Grimm brothers Choosing a Bride.","Ernst Meier, 'Die Brautschau,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 30, p. 110.","A man wanted to select a wife for himself from among three sisters, all of whom pleased him greatly. He invited them all to eat their noon meal with him at an inn. Wanting to find himself an industrious and efficient housewife, he decided to test them on how they ate cheese. When her cheese was served the eldest cut the rind off so thick that it included a lot of good cheese, which was thus lost. 'She will waste too much and throw out everything,' thought the man. 'You cannot choose her.' Then the second sister received her cheese, and she ate her piece without cutting off any of the rind. 'She is not the wife for you either,' thought the man. 'She will be disorderly.' Then the youngest sister was served her cheese. She scraped her piece off cleanly and carefully, and then ate it. Thus the suitor thought, 'She is the right one!' and he did indeed marry her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1451,The Cheese Test,Switzerland,"Sutermeister's source: Joh. Rudolf Wyß, Idyllen, Volkssagen, Legenden und Erzählungen aus der Schweiz (Bern: J. J. Burgdorfer; Leipzig: E. Gottl. Schmid, 1815), p. 321; and an oral source from Zürich. Type 1452. Note by Sutermeister: Why the test in this story has to do with cheese is explained by the meaning of cheese in the lives herdspeople of all times. Swiss herdspeople even today understand only bread and cheese with the word food. Link to a variation of this tale by the Grimm brothers: Choosing a Bride.","Otto Sutermeister, 'Die Käsprobe,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz (Aarau: Druck und Verlag von H. R. Sauerländer, 1869), no. 40, p. 121.","A young herdsman wanted to get married. Now he knew three sisters. All were equally beautiful, and he liked them all equally well, so he could not decide which of them he should choose as his bride. His mother noticed this, and she said to him, 'Let me give you some good advice. Invite all three sisters to eat with you at the same time. Serve them some cheese and pay attention to what they do with it.' The son followed this advice. He invited the girls to his house and served them cheese. The first one greedily ate her piece, complete with the rind, so that not a trace of it was left. The second one, to the contrary, cut off the rind so thick that she wasted a lot of good cheese. The third one neatly peeled off just the right amount of rind. The herdsman told his mother what had happened with the cheese, and she said, 'Choose the third one. She will bring you luck.' That is what he did, and as long as he lived, he never regretted having followed his mother's advice. Note by Sutermeister: Why the test in this story has to do with cheese is explained by the meaning of cheese in the lives herdspeople of all times. Swiss herdspeople even today understand only bread and cheese with the word food.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1451,The Hurds,Germany,"This tale was added to the Grimms' collection with the second edition (1819). German text of this tale from the edition of 1857 (the last edition printed during the Grimms' lifetimes': Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm. Zeiter Band. (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 156, p. 288. The Grimms' precise source of this tale is not known, only that it came from Mecklenburg. Type 1451. Hurds, as evident from the context, are bits of flax wasted in the spinning process. Link to a separate file of this tale: The Hurds.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die Schickerlinge,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 156.","Once upon a time there was a girl who was beautiful, but lazy and negligent. When she had to spin she was so ill tempered that if there was a little knot in the flax, she at once pulled out a whole heap of it, and scattered it about on the ground beside her. Now she had a servant who was industrious, and who gathered together the discarded flax, cleaned it, spun it well, and had a beautiful dress woven out of it for herself. A young man had courted the lazy girl, and the wedding was about to take place. On the eve of the wedding, the industrious girl was dancing merrily about in her beautiful dress, and the bride said, Ach, wat kann das Mäken springen in minen Slickerlingen! Ah, how that girl can jump about, in my hurds! The bridegroom heard this, and asked the bride what she meant by it. So she told him that the girl was wearing a dress made from the flax which she had thrown away. When the bridegroom heard this, and saw how lazy she was, and how industrious the poor girl was, he gave her up and went to the other girl, and chose her as his wife. Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 156. (1819). came from Mecklenburg. the spinning process. Hurds.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1451,The Storehouse Key in the Distaff,Norway,"Link to the original Norwegian text: Stabbursnøkkelen i rokkehodet. Type 1453. A distaff is the staff which holds the fiber (typically flax or wool) being spun, either by hand or by a spinning wheel. Spinning was such an important part of women's work in preindustrial Europe that the word distaff came to refer to a woman's realm in general.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated by H. L. Brækstad. Authorised edition (London: David Nutt, 1897), pp. 269-71. Translator's preface dated London, September 1897.","There was once a rich farmer's son who went out to woo. He had heard of a lass who was fair and gentle, and who was both clever in the house and good at cooking. Thither he went, for it was just such a wife he wanted. The people on the farm knew, of course, on what errand he came, so they asked him to take a seat near to them, and they talked and chatted with him, as the custom is, and beside offered him a drink and asked him to stop to dinner. They went in and out of the room, so the lad had time to look about him, and over in a corner he saw a spinning wheel with the distaff full of flax. 'Whose spinning wheel is that?' asked the lad. 'Oh, that's our daughter's,' said the woman of the house. 'There's a deal of flax on it,' said the lad. 'I suppose she takes more than a day to spin that,' said he. 'No, not at all,' said the woman. 'She does it easily in one day and perhaps less than that.' That was more than he had ever heard of anyone being able to spin in such a short time. When they were going to carry in the dinner they all went out of the room and he was left alone. He then saw an old key lying in the window, and this he took and stowed well away among the flax on the distaff. So they ate and drank and got on well together, and when the lad thought he had been there long enough, he said good-bye and went his way. They asked him to come soon again, which he promised, but he did not speak of the matter he had at heart, although he liked the lass very well. Some time after, he came again to the farm, and they received him still better than the first time. But just as they were chatting at their best, the farmer's wife said, 'Last time you were here something very remarkable happened. Our storehouse key disappeared all at once, and we have never been able to find it since.' The lad went over to the spinning wheel, which stood in the corner with just as much flax on it as when last he was there. He put his hand in among the flax and said, 'Here is the key! Much cannot be made by the spinning when the spinning day lasts from Michaelmas [September 29] to Easter.' So he said good-bye, and did not speak of the matter he had at heart that time either. 1897. i rokkehodet. A distaff is the staff which holds the fiber (typically flax or wool) being spun, either by hand or by a spinning wheel. Spinning was such an important part of women's work in preindustrial Europe that the word distaff came to refer to a woman's realm in general.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1451,The Suitor,Denmark,"Bay does not identify his specific source for each tale in this collection, but he does state in his preface that 'the sources from which most of these stories were gathered are principally the works of the late Professor Svend Grundtvig.' Rock (Danish rok) is an archaic English term for distaff. The first episode in this tale, the story of the sisters with speech impediments, is classified as type 1457. The second episode, the story of the hidden key, is classified as type 1453. The final episode, the story of the would-be bride and her family worrying about an unimportant detail, is classified as type 1450.","J. Christian Bay, Danish Folk Tales (New York and London: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1899), pp. 150-54.","There was once a handsome young fellow by the name of Tom. From an old, wealthy uncle he had inherited a fine farm, and being well established in life, he determined to seek a wife. As he was quite wealthy, he considered himself able to afford a little more than ordinary people in this direction, for the wives of wealthy men must always be prettier and wiser than those of the poor, as we all know. So Tom wanted a wife who was handsome and industrious, wise and good, and of course it would not be out of the way if she possessed some property. One day he rode over to a rich farmer who lived in the neighborhood and who had three daughters, all of whom were ready to be married at once. He had seen, although he had never talked with, them, and thought well of all three. Now these girls, who were otherwise pretty and good, had one great fault: namely, that they could not talk distinctly. When Tom came riding into the yard the farmer received him kindly and conducted him into the room where the three girls sat spinning diligently. They nodded kindly to him and smiled, but did not utter a sound, as their mother had strictly forbidden them to do so. The farmer led the talking, while his wife waited on them with good food and drinks. The girls spun, and looked at the young man at the table, and glanced at each other and at the ceiling and out of the windows, but none of them spoke. At length the one happened to break her yarn. 'My 'arn bote!' exclaimed she. 'Tie it adain,' advised her sister. 'Mamma told us we say no'tin', and now we t'ant teep 'till!' broke in the third one. When Tom heard these grown girls talk like babies he hurried away, utterly shocked. A wife who could not speak distinctly he had no use for at all. He proceeded to another farm, where they had a daughter who was said to be a very fine girl in all respects. Tom went into the house and saw her. If the first three ones had been too silent, this one talked, however, more fluently and volubly than any girl whom he had ever met. She talked like a house on fire, while her spinning wheel went more rapidly than any engine. 'How long does it take you to use up such a head of flax?' asked the young man, pointing to the rock [distaff]. 'Oh,' she said, 'I use up a couple of them every day.' While she left the room a few minutes to look after the servants, Tom seized a key from a drawer of a bureau in the room and stuffed it into the head of flax. When she returned they finished their conversation; whereupon he bid her parents and herself good-bye, promising to call again in a week. On the appointed day Tom returned. The girl and her parents expected him to talk this time of his errand. When he came into the room the girl was busy with her rock, as before. She bid him welcome, and invited him to sit down. 'How unfortunate!' began she. 'We have been missing the key of that bureau ever since you were here. We are unable to find it, and I cannot reach any of my things. It never happened before.' On hearing this, Tom went over and pulled the key out of the head of flax. It was the same key, and, still worse, the very same head of flax that he had seen a week before. Thus he knew her word could not be depended upon; and bidding her good-bye he left at once, richer in experience than before. Some time afterwards he heard of a girl who was very pretty and good, but especially wise and thoughtful in all practical matters. Her parents were said to be the same. Tom saddled his horse and rode over to see her. The whole family was at home and received the young man very kindly. While the men drifted into a talk about the weather and crops, the women placed before them the best that the house could afford. 'Go into the cellar and fetch a bottle of wine,' said the woman to her daughter. The girl went into the cellar, but was so busy thinking what pattern she might choose for a wedding dress that she sat down on the floor, lost in reflection upon this important subject, and the wine was entirely forgotten. After she had left the room, the parents told Tom of their daughter's many good qualities; how industrious she was, how thoughtful, and so on. The young man thought that she would be exactly such a wife as he wished. But as the girl did not appear with the wine, her mother went to see what had become of her. When she came into the cellar and found her daughter sitting on the floor, she asked, 'Why do you sit there, instead of bringing the wine?' 'Well,' was the answer, 'I am thinking that if I marry Tom I must make a careful choice of the pattern for my wedding gown. The question is, what pattern would do best?' 'Yes, indeed,' answered her mother, 'which pattern will be the most suitable?' She sat down by her daughter, pondering over this important question. 'I wonder what has become of them both!' at length exclaimed the man, referring to his wife and daughter. 'I must look after them.' He went into the cellar, and when he saw both women sitting on the floor he cried, 'Why are you both sitting here? You have kept us waiting for over an hour!' 'We are thinking,' replied his wife, 'of the pattern for the wedding gown. If she is to marry Tom, the gown must, of course, be a pretty one, and the choice of the right pattern is, indeed, an important matter.' 'To be sure!' answered her husband, seating himself on the floor beside them to consider the same subject. As at length Tom grew tired of waiting, he went himself into the cellar to see if anything unusual had happened. He found the whole family sitting on the floor and looking extremely thoughtful. 'Why do you all sit here?' he asked. At length the farmer, aroused from his reverie, proceeded to relate the difficult question which had caught their attention. 'Yes, in dee e ed,' answered Tom. 'Which will be the most suitable pattern? You may think of that until I return, and in the meantime I will do the same. Good bye to you!' Mounting his horse, he rode home as rapidly as the steed would carry him, and if he has not found another and less thoughtful girl, he is yet a bachelor. But the three people may yet be sitting on the cellar floor, thinking of the pattern for the bridal gown, for all that I know! London: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1899), pp. 150-54. Bay does not identify his specific source for each tale in this collection, but he does state in his preface that 'the sources from which most of these stories were gathered are principally the works of the late Professor Svend Grundtvig.' distaff. The first episode in this tale, the story of the sisters with speech impediments, is classified as type 1457. The second episode, the story of the hidden key, is classified as type 1453. The final episode, the story of the would-be bride and her family worrying about an unimportant detail, is classified as type 1450.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Bewitched Brothers,Romania,Gaster's full title for this story is 'Why Does the Eagle Live on Raw Meat? The Story of the Bewitched Brothers.',"M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 77, pp. 231-35.","Once upon a time there was such a famine in the land that the people lived on grass and even on sawdust, and were dying of hunger in untold numbers. At that time there lived a widow who had managed to husband a little flour. When she found that nothing else was left to her she took that flour and mixing it with water kneaded it into dough. Then she lit the furnace and got a shovel to put the dough on it and thence into the furnace to bake. This woman had two sons and one daughter. The two boys came in just at the moment when the loaves of dough were on the shovel. They were so hungry that they did not wait for the dough to be baked, and before their mother had time to put the shovel into the oven they got hold of the dough, raw and uncooked as it was, and ate it up to the smallest bit. They did not leave even a little piece for their mother and sister. When the mother saw the terrible greediness of her children, and that they ate the raw stuff and did not leave even a small piece for her or their sister, she cursed them and said, 'May you be cursed by God and be changed into two birds; may you haunt the highest peaks of the mountains; may you never be able to eat bread even when you see it, because you did not leave any for me this day.' No sooner had the boys gone out of the house than they were changed into two huge eagles, who, spreading their wings, flew away to the ends of the earth, no one knowing whither they had gone. A short time afterwards their sister, who had not been at home when all this had happened, came in, and she asked the mother where her brothers were. Her mother did not tell her what had happened, and said that the brothers, finding it was impossible for them to live any longer here, had gone out into the wide world to live by their own earnings. When the girl heard this she wept, and said, 'If that be so, then I will also go out into the wide world, and will seek my brothers until I find them,' and would not listen to the words of her mother, who wanted to keep her back. She said good-bye and departed, and traveled on and on for a long time, until she came to the ends of the earth, where the sun and moon no longer shone, and the days were dark. So she fell a-praying, and said, 'I have gone in search of my brothers; O God, help me,' and as she turned round she saw a forest full of high trees which she had not noticed before, and she said to herself, 'I will go into that forest; I am sure nothing will happen to me,' and so she did. She went into the forest not knowing where she was going. In the midst of it she saw a beautiful meadow full of singing birds, and there was a huge castle surrounded by thick walls and closed by a gate with six locks. At the entrance of the gate there were two huge monsters. She was very frightened. Still she watched until these monsters had fallen asleep, and then slipping past them she entered the gates. There she was met by a fox, who said to her, 'What has brought thee hither into this the other world from the world outside? I fear our master will eat you up. As soon as he comes home he will swallow you.' Still she went on, and on entering the house she met the mistress of the house, who asked her the same question, and she told her what had happened to her from the beginning to the end, and that she had gone out into the wide world to seek for her lost brothers. When the mistress heard her tale she took pity on her, and taking her into the innermost chamber she hid he there, and then went to await the homecoming of the master. About midday, when the sun stands on the crossways of heaven, there was a great noise in the house; the place shook, for the master had come, and he was none other than a huge lion. At table, the mistress said to him, 'O my master, thou hast always been so good to me; I ask you to be once more good and kind; promise me.' And he promised, and asked her her request. She told him what had happened to that girl, and said that she had come there from the other world in search of her brothers. The lion called the young girl, who was greatly frightened, and she told him again all that had happened to her. He then said, 'I will call together all my subjects and ask them whether they have seen your brothers passing by this way, or whether meeting them they have eaten them.' So he called from far and near all the animals who were in his dominion, and he asked them about the brothers. But they all said that these had never passed through the land, and they had neither seen them nor eaten them. So the lion told her to go on. She went on and came to another forest, very big and dark, and waling for a time in it she came to another meadow full of birds singing so beautifully that you could not hear enough of them, and there in the midst was a house deep down in the ground with a thatched roof. The girl went in the house, and there was an old woman sitting on the oven. 'May God help you,' said the young girl, and the old woman replied, 'Welcome, my daughter, what has brought you here into this part of the world never yet trodden by human foot?' And the girl told her that she had left her mother's house and gone in search of her brothers. The woman said, 'Your brothers are alive, but they are under a spell, for they have been charmed into huge birds, and they live yonder in the castle on that steep mountain. If you can reach that place you will be able to see your brothers.' Full of joy at these tidings, the girl went to the mountain and found that it was a bare, steep, high cliff with little patches of grass here and there, just the place for eagles' nests. taking courage, she started climbing up, and after endless toil reached the top. There she saw a huge palace surrounded by iron walls, and going inside she saw a room; the table was set and food was on the table. As she was very hungry, she went round the table and took a bit from every dish. Then she hid herself, watching to see what would happen. She had not to wait very long, for soon two huge eagles came from the depths of heaven. They entered and sat down at the table and began to eat their meal. Suddenly one of them said to the other, 'Halloo, someone must have been here, for I see that my food has been nibbled.' The other said, 'It is impossible for anyone to come here,' and took no further notice of it. On the second day they noticed that once again some of their food had been eaten again, and so on the third day, when more of it had been eaten. So they started hunting through the house to find out who was hidden there, for surely someone must have come to eat the food. After a long search they found the girl huddled up in a small room. As soon as they saw her they recognized her as their sister, and taking her into the large hall they asked her what had happened and what had brought her to them. She told them all that had happened to her, and how she had been through the forest and climbed up the mountain, and that she was now there with them. The brothers then said to her, 'We are under a spell; mother has cursed us. We have now been changed into birds of prey; but if you will stay here for six years and not speak a single word, that will save us; the spell will be broken, and we shall again be human beings.' The girl promised to do all they wished, as the old woman whom she had met before had told her that she was to do whatever her brothers would wish he to do. And there she remained. Her brothers spread their wings and flew away. Five years had passed, the girl no seeing anything of them, and not speaking all the time. After that time she said to herself, 'What is the good of my sitting here and keeping silent when none of them have come; perchance they are dead, or who know what has happened?' No sooner had she opened her mouth and spoken a word when in came her two brothers, and said to her mournfully, 'Thou hast not kept thy vow, thou hast broken thy promise, thou hast spoken! If thou wouldst have waited one more year we would have become human beings, and the spell would have been broken. Now we are cursed forever. We must remain eagles and birds of prey.' And so they have remained to this day, preying on birds and beasts, living on raw meat, never being able to touch bread, and even picking up children under six years of age, the years which their sister had to wait in order to break the spell.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Curse of the Seven Children,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 11, pp. 54-57.","There was once a king and a queen who had six children, all sons. The queen was about to give birth to another child, and the king said that if it was not a daughter all seven children would be cursed. Now it happened that the king had to go away to war; and before departing he said to the queen, 'Listen. If you have a son, hang a lance out of the window; if a daughter, a distaff; so that I can see as soon as I arrive which it is.' After the king had been gone a month, the queen gave birth to the most beautiful girl that was ever seen. Imagine how pleased the queen was at having a girl. She could scarcely contain herself for joy, and immediately gave orders to hang the distaff out of the window; but in the midst of the joyful confusion, a mistake was made, and they put out a lance. Shortly after, the king returned and saw the sign at the window, and cursed all his seven sons; but when he entered the house and the servants crowded around him to congratulate him and tell him about his beautiful daughter, then the king was amazed and became very melancholy. He entered the queen's room and looked at the child, who seemed exactly like one of those wax dolls to be kept in a box; then he looked about him and saw nothing of his sons, and his eyes filled with tears, for those poor youths had wandered out into the world. Meanwhile the girl grew, and when she was large she saw that her parents caressed her, but always with tears in their eyes. One day she said to her mother, 'What is the matter with you, mother, that I always see you crying?' Then, the queen told her the story, and said that she was afraid that some day she would see her disappear too. When the girl heard how it was, what did she do? One night she rose softly and left the palace, with the intention of going to find her brothers. She walked and walked, and at last met a little old man, who said to her, 'Where are you going at this time of the night?' She answered, 'I am in search of my brothers.' The old man said, 'It will be difficult to find them, for you must not speak for seven years, seven months, seven weeks, seven days, seven hours, and seven minutes.' She said, 'I will try.' Then she took a bit of paper which she found on the ground, wrote on it the day and the hour with a piece of charcoal, and left the old man and hastened on her way. After she had run a long time, she saw a light and went towards it, and when she was near it, she saw that it was over the door of a palace where a king lived. She entered and sat down on the stairway, and fell asleep. The servants came later to put out the light, and saw the pretty girl asleep on the stone steps; they awakened her, asking her what she was doing there. She began to make signs, asking them to give her a lodging. They understood her, and said they would ask the king. They returned shortly to tell her to enter, for the king wished to see her before she was shown to her room. When the king saw the beautiful girl, with hair like gold, flesh like milk and wine, teeth white as pearls, and little hands that an artist could not paint as beautiful as they were, he suddenly imagined that she must be the daughter of some lord, and gave orders that she should be treated with all possible respect. They showed her to a beautiful room; then a maid came and undressed her and put her to bed. Next morning, Diana, for so she was called, arose, saw a frame with a piece of embroidery in it, and began to work at it. The king visited her, and asked if she needed anything, and she made signs that she did not. The king was so pleased with the young girl that he ended by falling in love with her, and after a year had passed he thought of marrying her. The queen mother, who was an envious person, was not content with the match, because, said she, no one knows where she came from, and, besides, she is dumb, something that would make people wonder if a king should marry her. But the king was so obstinate that he married her; and when his mother saw that there was no help, she pretended to be satisfied. Shortly after, the queen mother put into the king's hands a letter which informed him of an imminent war, in which, if he did not take part, he would run the risk of losing his realm. The king went to the war, in fact, with great grief at leaving his wife; and before departing, he commended her earnestly to his mother, who said, 'Do not be anxious, my son, I shall do all that I can to make her happy.' The king embraced his wife and mother, and departed. Scarcely had the king gone when the queen mother sent for a mason, and made him build a wall near the kitchen sink, so that it formed a sort of box. Now you must know that Diana expected soon to become a mother, and this afforded the queen mother a pretext to write to her son that his wife had died in giving birth to a child. She took her and put her in the wall she had had built, where there was neither light nor air, and where the wicked woman hoped that she would die. But it was not so. The scullion went every day to wash the dishes at the sink near where poor Diana was buried alive. While attending to his business, he heard a lamentation, and listened to see where it could come from. He listened and listened, until at last he perceived that the voice came from the wall that had been newly built. What did he do then? He made a hole in the wall, and saw that the queen was there. The scullion asked how she came there; but she only made signs that she was about to give birth to a child. The poor scullion had his wife make a fine cushion, on which Diana reposed as well as she could, and gave birth to the most beautiful boy that could be seen. The scullion's wife went to see her every moment, and carried her broth, and cared for the child; in short, this poor woman, as well as her husband, did everything she could to alleviate the poor queen, who tried to make them understand by signs what she needed. One day it came into Diana's head to look into her memorandum book and see how long she still had to keep silent, and she saw that only two minutes yet remained. As soon as they had passed, she told the scullion all that had happened. At that moment the king arrived, and the scullion drew the queen from out the hole, and showed her to the king. You can imagine how delighted he was to see again his Diana, whom he believed to be dead. He embraced her, and kissed her and the child; in short, such was his joy that it seemed as if he would go mad. Diana related everything to him: why she had left her home, and why she had played dumb so long, and finally how she had been treated by the queen mother, and what she had suffered, and how kind those poor people had been to her. When he had heard all this, he said, 'Leave the matter to me; I will arrange it.' The next day the king invited all the nobles and princes of his realm to a great banquet. Now it happened that in setting the tables the servants laid six plates besides the others; and when the guests sat down, six handsome youths entered, who advanced and asked what should be given to a sister who had done so and so for her brothers. Then the king sprang up and said, 'And I ask what shall be done to a mother who did so and so to her son's wife?' and he explained everything. One said, 'Burn her alive.' Another, 'Put her in the pillory.' Another, 'Fry her in oil in the public square.' This was agreed to. The youths had been informed by that same old man whom Diana had met, and who was a magician, where their sister was and what she had done for them. Then they made themselves known, and embraced Diana and their brother-in-law the king, and after the greatest joy, they all started off to see their parents. Imagine the satisfaction of the king and queen at seeing again all their seven children. They gave the warmest reception to the king, Diana's husband, and after they had spent some days together, Diana returned with her husband to their city. And all lived there afterward in peace and contentment.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Little Sister: The Story of Suyettar and the Nine Brothers,Finland,"This story differs from most type 451 folktales in that here the sister, not her brothers, is bewitched.","Parker Fillmore, Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy Tales and Folk Tales (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1922), pp. 99-120.","There was once a woman who had nine sons. They were good boys and loved her dearly but there was one thing about which they were always complaining. 'Why haven't we a little sister?' they kept asking. 'Do give us a little sister!' When the time came that another child was to be born, they said to their mother, 'If the baby is a boy we are going away and you will never see us again, but if it is a little girl then we shall stay home and take care of it.' The mother agreed that if the child were a girl she would have her husband put a spindle outside on the gatepost and, if it were a boy, an ax. 'Just wait,' she said, 'and see what your father puts on the gatepost and then you will know whether it is another brother God has sent you or a little sister.' The baby turned out to be a girl and the mother was overjoyed. 'Hurry, husband!' she cried, 'and put a spindle on the gatepost so that our nine sons may know the good news!' The man did so and then quickly returned to the mother and baby. The moment he was gone Suyettar slipped up and changed the tokens. She took away the spindle and put in its place an ax. Then with an evil grin she hurried off mumbling to herself, 'Now we'll see what we'll see!' She hoped to bring trouble and grief and she succeeded. As soon as the nine sons saw the ax on the gatepost they thought their mother had given birth to another son and at once they left home vowing never to return. The poor mother waited for them and waited. 'What is keeping my sons?' she cried at last. 'Go out to the gate, husband, and see if they are coming.' The man went out and soon returned bringing back word that someone had changed the tokens. 'The spindle that I put on the gatepost is gone,' he said, 'and in its place is an ax.' 'Alas!' cried the poor mother, 'some evil creature has done this to spite us! Oh, if we could only get word to our sons of the little sister they were so eager to have!' But there was no way to reach them for no one knew the way they had gone. In a short time the husband died and the poor woman, abandoned by her nine sons, had only her little daughter left. She named the child Kerttu. Kerttu was a dear little girl and her face was as beautiful as her heart was good. Whenever she found her mother weeping alone she tried to comfort her and, as she grew older, she wanted to know the cause of her mother's grief. At last the mother told her about her nine brothers and how they had gone away never to return owing to the trick of some evil creature. 'My poor mother!' she cried, 'how sorry I am that I am the innocent cause of your loss! Let me go out into the world and find my brothers! When once they hear the truth they will gladly come home to you to care for you in your old age!' At first the mother would not consent to this. 'You are all I have,' she said, 'and I should indeed be miserable and lonely if anything happened you!' But Kerttu continued to weep every time she thought of her poor brothers driven unnecessarily from home and at last the mother, realizing that she would nevermore be happy unless she were allowed to go in search of them, gave up opposing her. 'Very well, my daughter, you may go and may God go with you and bring you safely back to me. But before you go I must prepare you a bag of food for the journey and bake you a magic cake that will show you the way.' So she baked a batch of bread and at the same time mixed a little round cake with Kerttu's own tears and baked it, too. Then she said, 'Here now, my child, are provisions for the journey and here is a magic cake that will lead you to your brothers. All you have to do is throw it down in front of you and say: Roll, roll, my little cake! Show me the way that I must take To find at last the brothers nine Whose own true mother is also mine! Then the little cake will start rolling and do you follow wherever it rolls. But, Kerttu, my child, you must not start out alone. You must have some friend or companion to go with you.' Now it happened that Kerttu had a little dog, Musti, that she loved dearly. 'I'll take Musti with me!' she said. 'Musti will protect me!' So she called Musti and Musti wagged his tail and barked with joy at the prospect of going out into the world with his mistress. Then Kerttu threw down the magic cake in front of her and sang: At once the cake rolled off like a little wheel and Kerttu and Musti followed it. They walked until they were tired. Then Kerttu picked up the little cake and they rested by the wayside. When they were ready again to start the cake a-rolling, all Kerttu had to do was throw it down in front of her and say the magic rhyme. Their first day was without adventure. When night came they ate their supper and went to sleep in a field under a tree. The second day they overtook an ugly old woman whom Kerttu disliked on sight. But she said to herself, 'Shame on you, Kerttu, not liking this woman just because she's old and ugly!' and she made herself answer the old woman's greetings politely, and she made Musti stop snarling and growling. The old hag asked Kerttu who she was and where she was going and Kerttu told her. 'Ah!' said the old woman, 'how fortunate that we have met each other for our ways lie together!' She smiled and petted Kerttu's arm and Kerttu felt like shuddering. But she restrained herself and told herself severely, 'You're a wicked girl not to feel more friendly to the poor old thing!' Musti felt much as Kerttu did. He no longer growled for Kerttu had told him not to, but he drooped his tail between his legs and, pressing up close to Kerttu, he trembled with fright. And well he might, too, for the old hag was none other than Suyettar who had been waiting all these years just for this very chance to do further injury to Kerttu and her brothers. Kerttu, poor child, was, alas! too good and innocent to suspect evil in others. She said to Suyettar, 'Very well, if our ways lie together then we can be companions.' So Suyettar joined Kerttu and Musti and the three of them walked on following the little cake. As the day advanced the sun grew hotter and hotter and at last when they reached a lake Suyettar said, 'My dear, let us sit down here for a few moments and rest.' They all sat down and presently Suyettar said, 'Let us go bathing in the lake. That will refresh us.' Kerttu would have agreed if Musti had not tugged at her skirts and warned her not to. 'Don't do it, dear mistress!' Musti growled softly. 'Don't go in bathing with her! She'll bewitch you!' So Kerttu said, 'No, I don't want to go in bathing.' Suyettar waited until they were again journeying on and then when Kerttu wasn't looking she turned around and kicked Musti and broke one of the poor little dog's legs. Thereafter Musti had to hop along on three legs. The next afternoon when they passed another lake, Suyettar tried again to tempt Kerttu into the water. 'The sun is very hot,' she said, 'and it would refresh us both to bathe. Come, Kerttu, my dear, don't refuse me this time!' But again Musti tugged at Kerttu's skirts and, licking her hand, whispered the warning, 'Don't do it, dear mistress! Don't go in bathing with her or she will bewitch you!' So again Kerttu said politely, 'No, I don't feel like going in bathing. You go in alone and I'll wait for you here.' But this was not what Suyettar wanted and she said, no, she didn't care to go in alone. She was furious, too, with Musti and later when Kerttu wasn't looking she gave the poor little dog a kick that broke another leg. Thereafter Musti had to hop along on two legs. They slept the third night by the wayside and the next day they went on again always following the magic cake. In midafternoon they passed a lake and Suyettar said: 'Surely, my dear, you must be tired and hot. Let us both bathe in this cool lake.' But Musti, hopping painfully along on two legs, yelped weakly and said to Kerttu, 'Don't do it, dear mistress! Don't go in bathing with her or she'll bewitch you!' So for a third time Kerttu refused and later, when she wasn't looking, Suyettar kicked Musti and broke the third of the poor little dog's legs. Thereafter Musti hopped on as best he could on only one leg, Well, they went on and on. When night came they slept by the roadside and then next morning they started on again. The sun grew hot and by midafternoon Kerttu was tired and ready to rest. When they reached a lake Suyettar again begged that they both go in bathing. Kerttu was tempted to agree when poor Musti threw himself panting at her feet and whimpered, 'Don't do it, dear mistress! Don't go in bathing with her or she will bewitch you!' So Kerttu again refused. 'That's right, dear mistress!' Musti panted, 'don't do it! I shall soon be dead, I know, for she hates me, but before I die I want to warn you one last time never to go in bathing with her or she will bewitch you!' 'What's that dog saying?' Suyettar demanded angrily, and without waiting for an answer she picked up a heavy piece of wood and struck poor Musti such a blow on the head that it killed him. 'What have you done to my poor little dog?' Kerttu cried. 'Don't mind him, my dear,' Suyettar said. 'He was sick and lame and it was better to put him out of his misery.' Suyettar tried to soothe Kerttu and make her forget Musti but all afternoon Kerttu wept to think that she would never again see her faithful little friend. The next afternoon when Suyettar begged her to go in bathing there was no Musti to warn her against it and at last Kerttu allowed herself to be persuaded. She was tired from her many days' wandering and it was true that the first touch of the cool water refreshed her. 'Now splash water in my face!' Suyettar cried. But Kerttu didn't want to splash water into Suyettar's face for she supposed Suyettar was an old woman and she thought it would be disrespectful to splash water into the face of an old woman. 'Do you hear me!' screamed Suyettar. When Kerttu still hesitated, Suyettar looked at her with such a terrible, threatening expression that Kerttu did as she was bidden. She splashed water into Suyettar's face and, as the water touched Suyettar's eyes, Suyettar cried out: Your bonny looks give up to me And you take mine for all to see! Instantly they two changed appearance: Suyettar looked young and beautiful like Kerttu, and Kerttu was changed to a hideous old hag. Then too late she realized that the awful old woman to whom she had been so polite was Suyettar. 'Oh, why,' Kerttu cried, 'why didn't I heed poor Musti's warning!' Suyettar dragged her roughly out of the water. 'Come along!' she said. 'Dress yourself in those rags of mine and start that cake a-rolling! We ought to reach your brothers' house by tonight.' So poor Kerttu had to dress herself in Suyettar's filthy old garments while Suyettar, looking like a fresh young girl, decked herself out in Kerttu's pretty bodice and skirt. Unwillingly now and with a heavy heart Kerttu threw down the cake and said: Off rolled the little cake and they two followed it, Kerttu weeping bitterly and Suyettar taunting her with ugly laughs. Then suddenly Kerttu forgot to weep for Suyettar took from her her memory and her tongue. The little cake led them at last to a farmhouse before which it stopped. This was where the nine brothers were living. Eight of them were out working in the fields but the youngest was at home. He opened the door and when Suyettar told him that she was Kerttu, his sister, he kissed her tenderly and made her welcome. Then he invited her inside and they sat side by side on the bench and talked and Suyettar told him all she had heard from Kerttu about his mother and about the tokens which had been changed at Kerttu's birth. The youngest brother listened eagerly and Suyettar told her story so glibly that of course he supposed that she was his own true sister. 'And who is the awful looking old hag that has come with you?' he asked pointing at Kerttu. 'That? Oh, that's an old serving woman whom our mother sent with me to bear me company. She's dumb and foolish but she's a good herd and we can let her drive the cow out to pasture every day.' The older brothers when they came home were greatly pleased to find what they thought was their sister. They began to love her at once and to pet her and they said that now she must stay with them and keep house for them. She told them that was what she wanted to do and she said that now she was here the youngest brother need no longer stay at home but could go out every morning with the rest of them to work in the fields. So now began a new life for poor Kerttu. In the morning after the brothers were gone Suyettar would scold and abuse her. She would bake a cake for her dinner to be eaten in the fields and she would fill the cake with stones and sticks and filth. Then she would take Kerttu as far as the gate where she would give her back her tongue and her memory and order her roughly to drive the cow to pasture and look after it all day long. In the late afternoon when Kerttu drove home the cow, Suyettar would meet her at the gate and take from her her tongue and her memory and then in the evening the brothers would see her as a foolish old woman who couldn't talk. Every morning and every evening Kerttu begged Suyettar to show her a little mercy, but far from showing her any mercy Suyettar grew more cruel from day to day. Suyettar was very proud to think that nine handsome young men took her for a beautiful girl and she felt sure they would never find out their mistake for only Kerttu knew who she really was and Kerttu was entirely in her power. At night seated in the shadow in a far corner of the kitchen with her nine brothers laughing and talking Kerttu felt no sorrow for at such times of course she had no memory. But during the day it was different. Then when she was alone in the meadow she had her memory and her tongue and she thought about her poor mother at home anxiously awaiting her return and she thought of her nine sturdy brothers all of whom might now through her mistake fall victims to Suyettar. These thoughts made her weep with grief and as the days went by she put this grief into a song which she sang constantly: I've found at last the brothers nine Whose own true mother is also mine, But they know me not from stick or stone! They leave me here to weep alone, While Suyettar sits in my place With stolen looks and stolen face! She snared me first with evil guile And now she mocks me all the while: By night she takes my tongue away, She feeds me sticks and stones by day! . . . Oh, little they guess, the brothers nine, That their own true mother is also mine! The brothers as they worked in nearby fields used to hear the song and they wondered about it. 'Strange!' they said to one another. 'Can that be the old woman singing? In the evening at home she never opens her mouth and our dear sister always says that she's dumb and foolish.' One afternoon when Kerttu's song sounded particularly sad, the youngest brother, crept close to the meadow where Kerttu was sitting in order to hear the words. He listened carefully and then hurried back to the others and with frightened face told them what he had heard. 'Nonsense I' the older brothers said. 'It can't be so!' However, they, too, wanted to hear for themselves the words of the strange song, so they all crept near to listen. It looked like an old hag who was singing but the voice that came out of the withered mouth was the voice of a young girl. As they listened they, too, grew pale: 'Can it be true?' they said, whispering together. They sent the youngest brother to question Kerttu, and he, when he had heard her story, believed it true. Then the other brothers went to her one by one and questioned her and finally they were all convinced of the truth of her story. 'It is well for us,' they said, 'if we do not all fall into the power of that awful creature! How, O how can we rescue our poor little sister!' 'I can never get back my own looks,' Kerttu said, 'unless Suyettar splashes water into my eyes and unless I cry out a magic rhyme as she does it.' The brothers discussed one plan after another and at last agreed on one that they thought might deceive Suyettar. They had Kerttu inflame her eyes with dust and come groping home one midday. The brothers, too, were at home and as Kerttu came stumbling into the kitchen they said to Suyettar, 'Oh, sister, sister, see the poor old woman! Something ails her! Her eyes -- they're all red and swollen! Get some water and bathe them!' 'Nonsense!' Suyettar said. 'The old hag's well enough! Let her be! She doesn't need any attention!' 'Oh, sister!' the youngest brother said, reproachfully, 'is that any way for a human, kindhearted girl like you to talk? If you won't bathe the old creature's eyes, I will myself!' Then Suyettar who of course wanted them to think that she was a human, kindhearted girl said, no, she would bathe them. So she took a basin of water over to Kerttu and told her to lean down her head. As she splashed the first drop of water into Kerttu's eyes, Kerttu cried out: 'My own true looks give back to me And take your own for all to see! Instantly Suyettar was again a hideous old hag though still dressed in Kerttu's pretty bodice and skirt, and Kerttu was herself again, young and fresh and sweet, though still incased in Suyettar's rags. But the brothers pretended that they saw no difference and kept on talking to Suyettar as though they still thought her Kerttu. And Suyettar because her eyes were blinded with the dust supposed that they were still deceived. Then one of the brothers said to Suyettar, 'Sister dear, the sauna is all heated and ready. Don't you want to bathe?' Suyettar thought that this would be a fine chance to wash the dust from her eyes, so she let them lead her to the sauna. Once they got her inside they locked the door and set the sauna afire. Oh, the noise she made then when she found she had been trapped! She kicked and screamed and cursed and threatened! But Kerttu and the brothers paid no heed to her. They left her burning in the sauna while they hurried homewards. They found their poor old mother seated at the window weeping, for she thought that now Kerttu as well as her sons was lost forever. As Kerttu and the nine handsome young men came in the gate she didn't recognize them until Kerttu sang out: I bring at last the brothers nine Then she knew who they were and with thanks to God she welcomed them home.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Seven Doves,"Italy, Giambattista Basile","Giambattista Basile (ca 1575 - 1632) is best known for his collection of Neopolitan fairy tales titled Lo cunto de li cunti (The Tale of Tales), published postumously in 1634 and 1636, later renamed Il Pentamerone in recognition of its similarity in structure to Il Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio (1313-1375).","Giambattista Basile, The Pentamerone; or, The Story of Stories, translated from the Neapolitan by John Edward Taylor, new edition revised and edited by Helen Zimmern, with illustrations by George Cruikshank (New York: Macmillan and Company; London: T. Tisher Unwin, 1894), pp. 157-75 [day 4, story 8].","There was once in the county of Arzano a good woman to whom every year gave a son, until at length there were seven of them, who looked like a syrinx of the god Pan, with seven reeds, one larger than another. And when they had changed their first teeth, they said to Jannetella their mother, 'Hark ye, mother, if, after so many sons, you do not this time have a daughter, we are resolved to leave home, and go wandering through the world like the sons of the blackbirds.' When their mother heard this sad announcement, she prayed Heaven to remove such an intention from her sons, and prevent her losing seven such jewels as they were. But the sons said to Jannetella, 'We will retire to the top of yonder hill or rock opposite; if Heaven sends you another son, put an inkstand and a pen up at the window; but if you have a little girl, put up a spoon and a distaff. For if we see the signal of a daughter, we shall return home and spend the rest of our lives under your wings; but if we see the signal of a son, then forget us, for you may know that we have taken ourselves off.' Soon after the sons had departed it pleased Heaven that Jannetella should have given her a pretty little daughter; then she told the nurse to make the signal to the brothers, but the woman was so stupid and confused that she put up the inkstand and the pen. As soon as the seven brothers saw this signal, they set off, and walked on and on, until at the end of three years they came to a wood, where the trees were performing the sword-dance to the sound of a river which made counterpoint upon the stones. In this wood was the house of an ogre, whose eyes having been blinded whilst asleep by a woman, he was such an enemy to the sex that he devoured all whom he could catch. When the youths arrived at the ogre's house, tired out with walking and exhausted with hunger, they begged him for pity's sake to give them a morsel of bread. And the ogre replied, that if they would serve him, he would give them food, and they would have nothing else to do but to watch over him, like a dog, each in turn for a day. The youths, upon hearing this, thought they had found mother and father; so they consented, and remained in the service of the ogre, who having gotten their names by heart, called one time Giangrazio, at another Cecchitiello, now Pascale, now Nuccio, now Pone, now Pezzillo, and now Carcavecchia, for so the brothers were named; and giving them a room in the lower part of his house, he allowed them enough to live upon. Meanwhile their sister had grown up; and hearing that her seven brothers, owing to the stupidity of the nurse, had set out to walk through the world, and that no tidings of them had ever been received, she took it into her head to go in search of them. And she begged and prayed her mother so long, that at last, overcome by her entreaties, she gave her leave to go, and dressed her like a pilgrim. Then the maiden walked and walked, asking at every place she came to whether anyone had seen seven brothers. And thus she journeyed on, until at length she got news of them at an inn, where having inquired the way to the wood, one morning, she arrived at the ogre's house, where she was recognized by her brothers with great joy, who cursed the inkstand and pen for writing falsely such misfortune for them. Then giving her a thousand caresses, they told her to remain quiet in their chamber, that the ogre might not see her; bidding her at the same time give a portion of whatever she had to eat to a cat which was in the room, or otherwise she would do her some harm. Cianna (for so the sister was named) wrote down this advice in the pocket-book of her heart, and shared everything with the cat, like a good companion, always cutting justly, and saying, 'This for me, this for thee, this for the daughter of the king!' giving the cat a share to the last morsel. Now it happened one day that the brothers, going to hunt for the ogre, left Cianna a little basket of chickpeas to cook; and as she was picking them, by ill luck she found among them a hazelnut, which was the stone of disturbance to her quiet; for having swallowed it without giving half to the cat, the latter out of spite ran up to the hearth and put out the fire. Cianna seeing this, and not knowing what to do, left the room, contrary to the command of her brothers, and going into the ogre's chamber begged him for a little fire. Then the ogre, hearing a woman's voice, said, 'Welcome, madam! Wait a while, you have found what you are seeking.' And so saying he took a Genoa stone, and daubing it with oil he fell to whetting his tusks. But Cianna, who saw that she had made a mistake, seizing a lighted stick, ran to her chamber; and bolting the door inside, she placed against it bars, stools, bedsteads, tables, stones, and everything there was in the room. As soon as the ogre had put an edge on his teeth he ran to the chamber of the brothers, and finding the door fastened, he fell to kicking it to break it open. At this noise and disturbance the seven brothers came home, and hearing themselves accused by the ogre of treachery for making their chamber the abode of his women-enemies, Giangrazio, who was the eldest and had more sense than the others, and saw matters going badly, said to the ogre, 'We know nothing of this affair, and it may be that this wicked woman has perchance come into the room whilst we were at the chase; but as she has fortified herself inside, come with me, and I will take you to a place where we can seize her without her being able to defend herself.' Then they took the ogre by the hand, and led him to a deep, deep pit, where giving him a push they sent him headlong to the bottom; and taking a shovel, which they found on the ground, they covered him with earth. Then they bade their sister unfasten the door, and they rated her soundly for the fault she had committed, and the danger in which she had placed herself; telling her to be more careful in future, and to beware of plucking grass upon the spot where the ogre was buried, or they would be turned into seven doves. 'Heaven keep me from bringing such a misfortune upon you!' replied Cianna. So taking possession of all the ogre's goods and chattels, and making themselves masters of the whole house, they lived there merrily enough, waiting until winter should pass away. Now it happened one day, when the brothers were gone to the mountains to get firewood, to defend themselves against the cold, which increased from day to day, that a poor pilgrim came to the ogre's wood, and made faces at an ape that was perched up in a pine tree; whereupon the ape threw down one of the fir apples from the tree upon the man's pate, which made such a terrible bump that the poor fellow set up a loud cry. Cianna hearing the noise went out, and taking pity on his disaster, she quickly plucked a sprig of rosemary from a tuft which grew upon the ogre's grave; then she made him a plaster of it with chewed bread and salt, and after giving the man some breakfast she sent him away. Whilst Cianna was laying the cloth, and expecting her brothers, lo! she saw seven doves come flying, who said to her, 'Ah! better that your hand had been cut off, you cause of all our misfortune, ere it plucked that accursed rosemary and brought such a calamity upon us! Have you eaten the brains of a cat, O sister, that you have driven our advice from your mind? Behold us turned to birds, a prey to the talons of kites, hawks, and falcons! Behold us made companions of water-hens, snipes, goldfinches, woodpeckers, jays, owls, magpies, jackdaws, rooks, starlings, woodcocks, cocks, hens and chickens, turkey-cocks, blackbirds, thrushes, chaffinches, tomtits, jenny-wrens, lapwings, linnets, greenfinches, crossbills, flycatchers, larks, plovers, kingfishers, wagtails, redbreasts, red finches, sparrows, ducks, fieldfares, wood-pigeons and bullfinches! A rare thing you have done! And now we may return to our country to find nets laid and twigs limed for us! To heal the head of a pilgrim, you have broken the heads of seven brothers; nor is there any help for our misfortune, unless you find the Mother of Time, who will tell you the way to get us out of trouble.' Cianna, looking like a plucked quail at the fault she had committed, begged pardon of her brothers, and offered to go round the world until she should find the dwelling of the old woman. Then praying them not to stir from the house until she returned, lest any ill should betide them, she set out, and journeyed on and on without ever tiring; and though she went on foot, her desire to aid her brothers served her as a sumpter-mule, with which she made three miles an hour. At last she came to the seashore, where with the blows of the waves the sea was banging the rocks. Here she saw a huge whale, who said to her, 'My pretty maiden, what go you seeking?' And she replied, 'I am seeking the dwelling of the Mother of Time.' 'Hear then what you must do,' replied the whale. 'Go straight along this shore, and on coming to the first river, follow it up to its source, and you will meet with someone who will show you the way. But do me one kindness. When you find the good old woman, beg of her the favor to tell me some means by which I may swim about safely, without so often knocking upon the rocks and being thrown on the sands.' 'Trust to me,' said Cianna. Then thanking the whale for pointing out the way, she set off walking along the shore; and after a long journey she came to the river, which was disbursing itself into the sea. Then taking the way up to its source, she arrived at a beautiful open country, where the meadow vied with the heaven, displaying her green mantle starred over with flowers. And there she met a mouse, who said to her, 'Whither are you going thus alone, my pretty girl?' And Cianna replied, 'I am seeking the Mother of Time.' 'You have a long way to go,' said the mouse; 'but do not lose heart. Everything has an end. Walk on therefore toward yon mountains, and you will soon have more news of what you are seeking. But do me one favor. When you arrive at the house you wish to find, get the good old woman to tell you what we can do to get rid of the tyranny of the cats; then command me, and I am your slave.' Cianna, after promising to do the mouse this kindness, set off toward the mountains, which, although they appeared to be close at hand, seemed never to be reached. But having come to them at length, she sat down tired out upon a stone; and there she saw an army of ants carrying a large store of grain, one of whom turning to Cianna said, 'Who art thou, and whither art thou going?' And Cianna, who was courteous to everyone, said to her, 'I am an unhappy girl, who for a matter that concerns me am seeking the dwelling of the Mother of Time.' 'Go on farther,' replied the ant, 'and where these mountains open into a large plain you will obtain more news. But do me a great favor. Set the secret from the old woman what we ants can do to live a little longer; for it seems to me a folly in worldly affairs to be heaping up such a large store of food for so short a life.' 'Be at ease,' said Cianna. 'I will return the kindness you have shown me.' Then she passed the mountains and arrived at a wide plain; and proceeding a little way over it, she came to a large oak tree, whose fruit tasted like sweetmeats to the maiden, who was satisfied with little. Then the oak, making lips of its bark and a tongue of its pith, said to Cianna, 'Whither are you going so sad, my little daughter? Come and rest under my shade.' Cianna thanked him much, but excused herself, saying that she was going in haste to find the Mother of Time. And when the oak heard this he replied, 'You are not far from her dwelling; for before you have gone another day's journey you will see upon a mountain a house, in which you will find her whom you seek. But if you have as much kindness as beauty, I prithee learn for me what I can do to regain my lost honor; for instead of being food for great men, I am now only made the food of hogs.' 'Leave that to me,' replied Cianna. 'I will take care to serve you.' So saying she departed, and walking on and on without ever resting, she came at length to the foot of an impertinent mountain, which was poking its head into the face of the clouds. There she found an old man, who wearied and way-worn had lain down upon some hay. And as soon as he saw Cianna, he knew her at once, and that it was she who had cured his bump. When the old man heard what she was seeking, he told her that he was carrying to Time the rent for the piece of earth which he had cultivated, and that Time was a tyrant who usurped everything in the world, claiming tribute from all, and especially from people of his age; and he added that, having received kindness from Cianna, he would now return it a hundredfold, by giving her some good information about her arrival at the mountain; and that he was sorry he could not accompany her thither, since his old age, which was condemned rather to go down than up, obliged him to remain at the foot of those mountains, to cast up accounts with the clerks of Time, which are the labors, the sufferings, and the infirmities of life, and to pay the debt of Nature. So the old man said to her, 'Now, my pretty innocent child, listen to me. You must know that on the top of this mountain you will find a ruined house, which was built long ago time out of mind; the walls are cracked, the foundations crumbling away, the doors worm eaten, the furniture all worn out, and in short everything is gone to wrack and ruin. On one side are seen shattered columns, on another broken statues, and nothing is left in a good state except a coat-of-arms over the door, quartered, on which you will see a serpent biting its tail, a stag, a raven, and a phoenix. When you enter, you will see on the ground files, saws, scythes, sickles, pruning-hooks, and hundreds and hundreds of vessels full of ashes, with the names written on them, like gallipots in an apothecary's shop; and there may be read Corinth, Saguntum, Carthage, Troy, and a thousand other cities, the ashes of which Time preserves as trophies of his conquests. When you come near the house, hide yourself until Time goes out; and as soon as he has gone forth, enter, and you will find an old, old woman, with a beard that touches the ground and a hump reaching to the sky. Her hair, like the tail of a dapple-gray horse, covers her heels; her face looks like a plaited collar, with the folds stiffened by the starch of years. The old woman is seated upon a clock, which is fastened to a wall; and her eyebrows are so large that they overshadow her eyes, so that she will not be able to see you. As soon as you enter, quickly take the weights off the clock; then call to the old woman, and beg her to answer your questions; whereupon she will instantly call her son to come and eat you up; but the clock upon which the old woman sits having lost its weights, her son cannot move, and she will therefore be obliged to tell you what you wish. But do not trust any oath she may make, unless she swear by the wings of her son. Then give faith to her, and do what she tells you, and you will be content.' So saying, the poor old man fell down and crumbled away, like a dead body brought from a catacomb to the light of day. Then Cianna took the ashes, and mixing them with a pint of tears, she made a grave and buried them, praying Heaven to grant them quiet and repose. And ascending the mountain, till she was quite out of breath, she waited until Time came out, who was an old man with a long, long beard, and who wore a very old cloak covered with slips of paper, on which were worked the names of various people. He had large wings, and ran so fast that he was out of sight in an instant. When Cianna entered the house of his mother, she started with affright at the sight of that black old chip; and instantly seizing the weights of the clock, she told what she wanted to the old woman, who setting up a loud cry called to her son. But Cianna said to her, 'You may butt your head against the wall as long as you like, for you will not see your son whilst I hold these clock-weights.' Thereupon the old woman, seeing herself foiled, began to coax Cianna, saying, 'Let go of them, my dear, and do not stop my son's course; for no man living has ever done that. Let go of them, and may Heaven preserve you! for I promise you by the aquafortis of my son, with which he corrodes everything, that I will do you no harm.' 'That's time lost,' answered Cianna. 'You must say something better if you would have me quit my hold.' 'I swear to you by those teeth which gnaw all mortal things, that I will tell you all you desire.' 'That is all nothing,' answered Cianna; 'for I know you are deceiving me.' 'Well then,' said the old woman, 'I swear to you by those wings which fly over all, that I will give you more pleasure than you imagine.' Thereupon Cianna, letting go the weights, kissed the old woman's hand, which had a moldy feel and a musty smell. And the old woman, seeing the courtesy of the damsel, said to her, 'Hide yourself behind this door, and when Time comes home I will make him tell me all you wish to know. And as soon as he goes out again, for he never stays quiet in one place, you can depart. But do not let yourself be heard or seen, for he is such a glutton that he does not spare even his own children; and when all fails, he devours himself, and then springs up anew.' Cianna did as the old woman told her, and lo! soon after Time came flying quick, quick, high, and light, and having gnawed whatever came to hand, down to the very moldiness upon the walls, he was about to depart, when his mother told him all she had heard from Cianna, beseeching him to answer exactly all her questions. After a thousand entreaties her son replied, 'To the tree may be answered, that it can never be prized by men so long as it keeps treasures buried under its roots To the mice, that they will never be safe from the cat, unless they tie a bell to her leg, to tell them when she is coming. To the ants, that they will live a hundred years, if they can dispense with flying; for when the ant is going to die she puts on wings. To the whale, that it should be of good cheer, and make friends with the sea-mouse, who will serve him as a guide, so that he will never go wrong. And to the doves, that when they alight on the column of wealth, they will return to their former state.' So saying, Time set out to run his accustomed post; and Cianna, taking leave of the old woman, descended to the foot of the mountain, just at the very time that the seven doves, who had followed their sister's footsteps, arrived there. Wearied with flying so far, they stopped to rest upon the horn of a dead ox; and no sooner had they alighted, than they were changed into handsome youths, as they were at first. But while they were marveling at this, they heard the reply which Time had given, and saw at once that the horn, as the symbol of plenty, was the column of wealth of which Time had spoken. Then embracing their sister with great joy, they all set out on the same road by which Cianna had come. And when they came to the oak tree, and told it what Cianna had heard from Time, the tree begged them to take away the treasure from its roots, since it was the cause why its acorns had lost their reputation. Thereupon the seven brothers, taking a spade which they found in a garden, dug and dug, until they came to a great heap of gold money, which they divided into eight parts, and shared among themselves and their sister, so that they might carry it away conveniently. But being wearied with the journey and the load, they laid themselves down to sleep under a hedge. Presently a band of robbers coming by, and seeing the poor fellows asleep, with their heads upon the cloths full of dollars, bound them hand and foot to some trees, and took away the money, leaving them to bewail not only their wealth, which had slipped through their fingers as soon as found, but their life; for being without hope of succor, they were in peril of either soon dying of starvation or allaying the hunger of some wild beast. As they were lamenting their unhappy lot, up came the mouse, who, as soon as she heard the reply which Time had given, in return for the good service nibbled the cords with which they were bound and set them free. And having gone a little way farther they met on the road the ant, who, when she heard the advice of Time, asked Cianna what was the matter, that she was so pale-faced and cast down. And when Cianna told her their misfortune, and the trick which the robbers had played them, the ant replied, 'Be quiet, I can now requite the kindness you have done me. You must know, that whilst I was carrying a load of grain underground, I saw a place where these dogs of assassins hide their plunder; they have made some holes under an old building, in which they shut up all the things they have stolen. They are just now gone out for some new robbery, and I will go with you and show you the place, so that you may recover your money.' So saying she took the way toward some tumble-down houses, and showed the seven brothers the mouth of a pit; whereupon Giangrazio, who was bolder than the rest, entering it, found there all the money of which they had been robbed. Then taking it with them, they set out, and walked towards the seashore, where they found the whale, and told him the good advice which Time -- who is the father of counsel -- had given them. And whilst they stood talking of their journey, and all that had befallen them, they saw the robbers suddenly appear, armed to the teeth, who had followed in their footsteps. At this sight they exclaimed, 'Alas, alas! we are now wholly lost, for here come the robbers armed, and they will not leave the skin on our bodies!' 'Fear not,' replied the whale,' for I can save you out of the fire, and will thus requite the love you have shown me. So get upon my back, and I will quickly carry you to a place of safety.' Cianna and her brothers, seeing the foe at their heels and the water up to their throat, climbed upon the whale, who, keeping far off from the rocks, carried them to within sight of Naples; but being afraid to land them on account of the shoals and shallows, he said, 'Where would you like me to land you? On the shore of Amalfi? ' And Giangrazio answered, 'See whether that cannot be avoided, my dear fish; I do not wish to land at any place hereabouts; for at Massa they say barely good-day, at Sorrento thieves are plenty, at Vico they say you may go your way, at Castel-a-Mare no one says how are ye?' Then the whale, to please them, turned about and went toward the Salt-Rock, where he left them; and they got put on shore by the first fishing boat that passed. Thereupon they returned to their own country, safe and sound and rich, to the great joy and consolation of their mother and father; and, thanks to the goodness of Cianna, they enjoyed a happy life, verifying the old saying, Do good whenever you can, and forget it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Seven Ravens,Germany,"The Grimms' source: The Hassenpflug family, and others. This tale was included, with the title 'Die drei Raben' (The Three Ravens), in the first edition of the Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812). It was retitled and substantially rewritten for the second edition (1819). Only small stylistic changes were introduced in succeeding editions.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die sieben Raben,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales], 7th ed., vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterischen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 25, pp. 137-39.","A man had seven sons, but however much he wished for a daughter, he did not have one yet. Finally his wife gave him hope for another child, and when it came into the world it was indeed a girl. Great was their joy, but the child was sickly and small, and because of her weakness, she was to be given an emergency baptism. The father sent one of the boys to run quickly to the well and get some water for the baptism. The other six ran along with him. Because each one of them wanted to be first one to dip out the water, the jug fell into the well. There they stood not knowing what to do, and not one of them dared to go home. When they did not return the father grew impatient, and said, 'They have forgotten what they went after because they were playing, those godless boys.' Fearing that the girl would die without being baptized, he cried out in anger, 'I wish that those boys would all turn into ravens.' He had hardly spoken these words when he heard a whirring sound above his head, and looking up, he saw seven coal-black ravens flying up and away. The parents could not take back the curse, and however sad they were at the loss of their seven sons, they were still somewhat comforted because of their dear little daughter, who soon gained strength and became more beautiful every day. For a long time she did not know that she had had brothers, for her parents took care not to mention them to her. However, one day she accidentally overheard some people talking about her. They said that she was beautiful enough, but that in truth she was to blame for her seven brothers' misfortune. This troubled her greatly, and she went to her father and mother and asked them if she indeed had had brothers, and what had happened to them. Her parents could no longer keep the secret, but said that it had been heaven's fate, and that her birth had been only the innocent cause. However, this ate at the girl's conscience every day, and she came to believe that she would have to redeem her brothers. She had neither rest nor peace until she secretly set forth and went out into the wide world, hoping to find her brothers and to set them free, whatever it might cost. She took nothing with her but a little ring as a remembrance from her parents, a loaf of bread for hunger, a little jug of water for thirst, and a little chair for when she got tired. She walked on and on -- far, far to the end of the world. She came to the sun, but it was too hot and terrible, and ate little children. She hurried away, and ran to the moon, but it was much too cold, and also frightening and wicked, and when it saw the child, it said, 'I smell, smell human flesh.' Then she hurried away, and came to the stars, and they were friendly and good to her, each one sitting on its own little chair. When the morning star arose, it gave her a chicken bone, and said, 'Without that chicken bone you cannot open the glass mountain, and your brothers are inside the glass mountain.' The girl took the bone, wrapped it up well in a cloth, and went on her way again until she came to the glass mountain. The door was locked, and she started to take out the chicken bone, but when she opened up the cloth, it was empty. She had lost the gift of the good stars. What could she do now? She wanted to rescue her brothers, but she had no key to the glass mountain. The good little sister took a knife, cut off one of her little fingers, put it into the door, and fortunately the door opened. After she had gone inside a little dwarf came up to her and said, 'My child, what are you looking for?' 'I am looking for my brothers, the seven ravens,' she replied. The dwarf said, 'The lord ravens are not at home, but if you want to wait here until they return, step inside.' Then the dwarf carried in the ravens' dinner on seven little plates, and in seven little cups. The sister ate a little bit from each plate and took a little sip from each cup. Into the last cup she dropped the ring that she had brought with her. Suddenly she heard a whirring and rushing sound in the air, and the dwarf said, 'The lord ravens are flying home now.' They came, wanted to eat and drink, and looked for their plates and cups. Then one after the other of them said, 'Who has been eating from my plate? Who has been drinking from my cup? It was a human mouth.' When the seventh one came to the bottom of his cup, the ring rolled toward him. Looking at it, he saw that it was a ring from their father and mother, and said, 'God grant that our sister might be here; then we would be set free.' The girl was listening from behind the door, and when she heard this wish she came forth. Then the ravens were restored to their human forms again. They hugged and kissed one another, and went home happily.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Sister and Her Seven Brothers,Basque,Wentworth's source: Louise Lanusse.,"Wentworth Webster, Basque Legends: Collected Chiefly in the Labourd (London: Griffith and Farran, 1879), pp. 187-91.","There was a man and a woman very poor, and overburdened with children. They had seven boys. When they had grown up a little, they said to their mother that it would be better that they should go on their own way -- that they would get on better like that. The mother let them go with great regret. After their departure she gave birth to a little girl, and when this little girl was grown up a little she went one day to a neighbor's to amuse herself, and having played some childish trick the neighbor said to her, 'You will be a good one, you too, as your brothers have been.' The child goes home and says to her mother, 'Mother, have I some brothers?' The mother says, 'Yes.' 'Where are they?' 'Oh, gone off somewhere.' The daughter said to her, 'I must go too, then. Give me a piece of linen enough to make seven shirts.' And she would go off at once. The mother was very sorry for it, having already seven children away from home, and the only one she had wished to go away. She let her go then. This young girl went off, far, far, far away. She asks in a town if they know seven brothers who work together. They tell her, 'No.' She goes off to a mountain and asks there too, and they tell her in what house they live. She goes to this house, and sees that all the household work is to be done, and that there is nobody at home. She makes the beds, and cleans the whole house, and puts it in order. She prepares the dinner, and then hides herself in the dust-hole. Her brothers come home, and are astonished to see all the household work done and the dinner ready. They begin to look if there is anyone in the house, but they never think of looking in the dust-hole, and they go off again to their work. Before night this young girl does all the rest of the work, and had the supper ready against the return of her brothers, and hides herself again in the dust-hole. Her brothers are astonished, and again search the house, but find nothing. They go to bed, and this young girl takes to sewing and sews a whole shirt. She gives it to her eldest brother, and in the same way she made a shirt every night, and took it to one of her brothers. They could not understand how that all happened. They always said that they would not go to sleep, but they fell asleep as soon as they were in bed. When the turn of the youngest came to have the shirt, he said to them, 'Certainly I will not fall asleep.' After he is in bed the young girl goes and says to him, thinking that he is asleep, 'Your turn has come now at last, my dearly loved brother.' And she begins to put the shirt on him on the bed, when her brother says to her, 'You are then my sister, you?' And he kisses her. She tells him then how she had heard that she had brothers, and how she had wished to go to them to help them. The other brothers get up and rejoice, learning that it was their sister who had done all the household work. The brothers forbad her ever to go to such a neighbor's, whatever might happen. But one day, without thinking about it, when she was behindhand with her work, she went running to the house to ask for some fire, in order to make the supper ready quicker. She was very well received; the woman offered to give her everything she wanted, but she said she was satisfied with a little fire. This woman was a witch, and gives her a parcel of herbs, telling her to put them as they were into the footbath -- that they relieved the fatigue very much. Every evening the seven brothers washed their feet at the same time in a large copper. She therefore put these herbs into the copper, and as soon as they had dipped their feet in they became six cows, and the seventh a Breton cow. This poor girl was in such trouble as cannot be told. The poor cows all used to kiss their sister, but the young girl always loved much best the Breton one. Every day she took them to the field, and stopped with them to guard them. One day when she was there the son of a king passes by, and is quite astonished to see so beautiful a girl there. He speaks to her, and tells her that he wishes to marry her. The young girl says to him that she is very poor, and that that cannot be. The king says, 'Yes, yes, yes, that makes no difference.' The young girl makes as conditions that, if she marries him, he must never kill these cows, and especially this little Breton one. The king promises it her, and they are married. The princess takes these cows home with her; they were always well treated. The princess became pregnant, and was confined while the king was absent. The witch comes, and takes her out of her bed, and throws her down a precipice that there was in the king's grounds, and the witch puts herself into the princess' bed. When the king comes home, he finds her very much changed, and tells her that he would not have recognized her. The princess tells him that it was her sufferings that had made her thus, and, in order to cure her more quickly, he must have the Breton cow killed. The king says to her, 'What! Did you not make me promise that she should never be killed? How is it you ask me that?' The witch considered that one her greatest enemy; and, as she left him no peace, he sent a servant to fetch the cows. He finds them all seven by the precipice; they were lowing, and he tried to drive them to the house, but he could not do it in any way; and he hears a voice, which says, 'It is not for myself that I grieve so much, but for my child, and for my husband, and for my dearly loved cows. Who will take care of them?' The lad could not succeed (in driving them), and goes and tells to the king what is taking place. The king himself goes to the precipice, and hears this voice. He quickly throws a long cord down, and, when he thinks that she has had time to take hold of it, he pulls it up, and sees that they have got the princess there. Judge of the joy of the king! She relates to her husband all that the witch had done to her, both formerly and now. The king goes to the witch's bed, and says to her, 'I know your villainies now; and, if you do not immediately change these cows, as they were before, into fine boys, I will put you into a red-hot oven.' The witch makes them fine men, and, notwithstanding that, the king had her burnt in a red-hot oven, and threw her ashes into the air. The king lived happily with his wife, and her seven brothers married ladies of the court, and sent for their mother, and they all lived happily together.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Six Swans,Germany,The Grimms' source: Dorothea (Dortchen) Wild (1795-1867). This tale was included in the first edition of the Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812). It was substantially rewritten for the second edition (1819). Only small stylistic changes were introduced in succeeding editions.,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die sechs Schwäne,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales], 7th ed., vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterischen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 49, pp. 245-50.","'My dear woman,' he said to her, 'can you show me the way through the woods?' 'Oh, yes, your majesty,' she answered, 'I can indeed. However, there is one condition, and if you do not fulfill it, you will never get out of these woods, and will die here of hunger.' 'What sort of condition is it?' asked the king. 'I have a daughter,' said the old woman, 'who is as beautiful as anyone you could find in all the world, and who well deserves to become your wife. If you will make her your queen, I will show you the way out of the woods.' The king was so frightened that he consented, and the old woman led him to her cottage, where her daughter was sitting by the fire. She received the king as if she had been expecting him. He saw that she was very beautiful, but in spite of this he did not like her, and he could not look at her without secretly shuddering. After he had lifted the girl onto his horse, the old woman showed him the way, and the king arrived again at his royal castle, where the wedding was celebrated. The king had been married before, and by his first wife he had seven children, six boys and one girl. He loved them more than anything else in the world. Fearing that the stepmother might not treat them well, even do them harm, he took them to a secluded castle which stood in the middle of a forest. It was so well hidden, and the way was so difficult to find, that he himself would not have found it, if a wise woman had not given him a ball of magic yarn. Whenever he threw it down in front of him, it would unwind itself and show him the way. However, the king went out to his dear children so often that the queen took notice of his absence. She was curious and wanted to know what he was doing out there all alone in the woods. She gave a large sum of money to his servants, and they revealed the secret to her. They also told her about the ball of yarn which could point out the way all by itself. She did not rest until she discovered where the king kept the ball of yarn. Then she made some little shirts of white silk. Having learned the art of witchcraft from her mother, she sewed a magic charm into each one of them. Then one day when the king had ridden out hunting, she took the little shirts and went into the woods. The ball of yarn showed her the way. The children, seeing that someone was approaching from afar, thought that their dear father was coming to them. Full of joy, they ran to meet him. Then she threw one of the shirts over each of them, and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans, and they flew away over the woods. The queen went home very pleased, believing that she had gotten rid of her stepchildren. However, the girl had not run out with her brothers, and the queen knew nothing about her. The next day the king went to visit his children, but he found no one there but the girl. 'Where are your brothers?' asked the king. 'Oh, dear father,' she answered, 'they have gone away and left me alone.' Then she told him that from her window she had seen how her brothers had flown away over the woods as swans. She showed him the feathers that they had dropped into the courtyard, and which she had gathered up. The king mourned, but he did not think that the queen had done this wicked deed. Fearing that the girl would be stolen away from him as well, he wanted to take her away with him, but she was afraid of her stepmother and begged the king to let her stay just this one more night in the castle in the woods. The poor girl thought, 'I can no longer stay here. I will go and look for my brothers.' And when night came she ran away and went straight into the woods. She walked the whole night long without stopping, and the next day as well, until she was too tired to walk any further. Then she saw a hunter's hut and went inside. She found a room with six little beds, but she did not dare to get into one of them. Instead she crawled under one of them and lay down on the hard ground where she intended to spend the night. The sun was about to go down when she heard a rushing sound and saw six swans fly in through the window. Landing on the floor, they blew on one another, and blew all their feathers off. Then their swan-skins came off just like shirts. The girl looked at them and recognized her brothers. She was happy and crawled out from beneath the bed. The brothers were no less happy to see their little sister, but their happiness did not last long. 'You cannot stay here,' they said to her. 'This is a robbers' den. If they come home and find you, they will murder you.' 'Can't you protect me?' asked the little sister. 'No,' they answered. 'We can take off our swan-skins for only a quarter hour each evening. Only during that time do we have our human forms. After that we are again transformed into swans.' Crying, the little sister said, 'Can you not be redeemed?' 'Alas, no,' they answered. 'The conditions are too difficult. You would not be allowed to speak or to laugh for six years, and in that time you would have to sew together six little shirts from asters for us. And if a single word were to come from your mouth, all your work would be lost.' After the brothers had said this, the quarter hour was over, and they flew out the window again as swans. Nevertheless, the girl firmly resolved to redeem her brothers, even if it should cost her her life. She left the hunter's hut, went to the middle of the woods, seated herself in a tree, and there spent the night. The next morning she went out and gathered asters and began to sew. She could not speak with anyone, and she had no desire to laugh. She sat there, looking only at her work. After she had already spent a long time there it happened that the king of the land was hunting in these woods. His huntsmen came to the tree where the girl was sitting. They called to her, saying, 'Who are you?' But she did not answer. 'Come down to us,' they said. 'We will not harm you.' She only shook her head. When they pressed her further with questions, she threw her golden necklace down to them, thinking that this would satisfy them. But they did not stop, so she then threw her belt down to them, and when this did not help, her garters, and then -- one thing at a time -- everything that she had on and could do without, until finally she had nothing left but her shift. The huntsmen, however, not letting themselves be dissuaded, climbed the tree, lifted the girl down, and took her to the king. The king asked, 'Who are you? What are you doing in that tree?' But she did not answer. He asked her in every language that he knew, but she remained as speechless as a fish. Because she was so beautiful, the king's heart was touched, and he fell deeply in love with her. He put his cloak around her, lifted her onto his horse in front of himself, and took her to his castle. There he had her dressed in rich garments, and she glistened in her beauty like bright daylight, but no one could get a word from her. At the table he seated her by his side, and her modest manners and courtesy pleased him so much that he said, 'My desire is to marry her, and no one else in the world.' A few days later they were married. Now the king had a wicked mother who was dissatisfied with this marriage and spoke ill of the young queen. 'Who knows,' she said, 'where the girl who cannot speak comes from? She is not worthy of a king.' A year later, after the queen had brought her first child into the world, the old woman took it away from her while she was asleep, and smeared her mouth with blood. Then she went to the king and accused her of being a cannibal. The king could not believe this, and would not allow anyone to harm her. She, however, sat the whole time sewing on the shirts, and caring for nothing else. The next time, when she again gave birth to a beautiful boy, the deceitful mother-in-law did the same thing again, but the king could not bring himself to believe her accusations. He said, 'She is too pious and good to do anything like that. If she were not speechless, and if she could defend herself, her innocence would come to light.' But when the old woman stole away a newly born child for the third time, and accused the queen, who did not defend herself with a single word, the king had no choice but to bring her to justice, and she was sentenced to die by fire. When the day came for the sentence to be carried out, it was also the last day of the six years during which she had not been permitted to speak or to laugh, and she had thus delivered her dear brothers from the magic curse. The six shirts were finished. Only the left sleeve of the last one was missing. When she was led to the stake, she laid the shirts on her arm. Standing there, as the fire was about to be lighted, she looked around, and six swans came flying through the air. Seeing that their redemption was near, her heart leapt with joy. The swans rushed towards her, swooping down so that she could throw the shirts over them. As soon as the shirts touched them their swan-skins fell off, and her brothers stood before her in their own bodies, vigorous and handsome. However, the youngest was missing his left arm. In its place he had a swan's wing. They embraced and kissed one another. Then the queen went to the king, who was greatly moved, and she began to speak, saying, 'Dearest husband, now I may speak and reveal to you that I am innocent, and falsely accused.' Then she told him of the treachery of the old woman who had taken away their three children and hidden them. Then to the king's great joy they were brought forth. As a punishment, the wicked mother-in-law was tied to the stake and burned to ashes. But the king and the queen with her six brothers lived many long years in happiness and peace.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Twelve Brothers,Germany,"The young queen's 'unspeakable' acts are specified in less inhibited versions of this episode. They include, in some instances, cannibalizing her own newborn children, and in others, giving birth to animals.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die zwölf Brüder,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales], 7th ed., vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterischen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 9, pp. 48-53.","Once upon a time there was a king who had twelve children, all boys. He also wanted to have a girl and said to the queen, 'If our thirteenth child, which you are soon going to bring to the world, is a girl, then I shall have the twelve others killed, but if it is also a boy, then they may all live together.' The queen tried to dissuade him, but the king would not listen to her. 'If it happens as I said, then they must die. I would rather strike off their heads myself than to have a girl among them.' This saddened the queen, for she loved her sons greatly and did not know how to save them. Finally she went to the youngest one, whom she loved even more than the others, and revealed to him what the king had decided, saying, 'Dear child, go out into the forest with your eleven brothers. Stay there and do not return home. One of you must keep watch from a tree and look toward the tower here. If I bring a little son into the world, then I shall fly a white flag from the top of the tower, but if it is a little daughter, then it shall be a red flag. Then you must save yourselves by fleeing into the world, and may God protect you. I will get up every night and pray for you, in the cold of winter that you may not freeze and that a warm fire may be burning before you, and in the heat of summer that you may rest and sleep in a cool forest.' Thus she blessed her children, and they went forth into the forest. They often looked toward the tower, and one of them always had to sit high in a tall oak tree and keep watch. Soon a flag was raised, but it was not the white one, but rather the red-blood flag that threatened their destruction. When the boys saw it they became angry and cried out, 'Are we to lose our lives for the sake of a girl!' Then they swore among themselves to remain in the middle of the forest, and whenever they might happen upon a girl, they would kill her without mercy. They found a cave in the darkest part of the forest, and there they lived. Every morning eleven of them set forth to hunt, but one of them had to stay at home to cook and keep house. Every girl that the eleven came upon was done away with without mercy. And so it was for many years. The little sister at home grew up as an only child. One day she discovered twelve men's shirts in the wash. 'Whose shirts are these?' asked the princess. 'They are much too small for my father.' Then the washerwoman told her that she had had twelve brothers who had secretly left home because the king had wanted to have them killed, and no one knew where they now were. The twelve shirts belonged to these twelve brothers. The little sister was amazed that she had never heard anything of her twelve brothers. That afternoon she sat in a meadow bleaching the wash and pondering the words of the washerwoman. Finally she stood up, took the twelve shirts, and walked into the forest where her brothers lived. The little sister came to the cave where they lived. Eleven were out hunting, and only one of them was at home doing the cooking. When he saw the girl he grabbed her and reached for his sword, saying, 'Kneel down! Your red blood will flow this instant!' 'Master, let me live!' she begged. 'I will stay here and serve you well. I will cook and keep house.' Now this was the youngest brother, and the girl's beauty softened him, and he spared her life. The eleven returned home and were amazed to find a live girl in their cave. He said to them, 'Brothers, this girl came to our cave. I was about to strike her down, but she begged so fervently for her life, and agreed to serve us faithfully and to keep house for us, so I spared her.' The others agreed that this was to their advantage, and that now all twelve would be able to go out hunting, and they were satisfied. Then she showed them the twelve shirts and said that she was their sister. They rejoiced and were happy that they had not killed her. The little sister took over the household. While the brothers were out hunting, she gathered wood and herbs, tended the fire, made the clean, white beds, and did everything eagerly and well. One day it happened that when she was finished with her work she went for a walk in the woods. She came to a place where there were twelve tall white lilies, and because she liked them so much, she plucked them all. This had scarcely happened when an old woman appeared before her. 'Oh, my daughter,' she said. 'Why didn't you leave the twelve flowers standing? They are your twelve brothers, who have now been transformed into ravens and are lost forever.' The little sister began to cry. 'Oh!' she said. 'Is there no way to redeem them?' 'No, there is only one way in the world, and it is so difficult that you will never succeed. You must remain silent for twelve whole years. If you speak a single word, even if all but one hour has passed, then it will all be for nothing, and your brothers will die that instant.' The little sister took a seat high in a tall tree in the forest where she would spin in silence for twelve years and thus redeem her brothers. One day a king was hunting in this forest. His dog stopped at the tree and barked. The king halted, looked up, and was amazed at the princess's beauty. He called to her, asking her if she would become his wife. She remained silent, but nodded a little with her head. The king himself climbed up and lifted her down, set her before him on his horse, and took her home to his castle, where their wedding was celebrated with splendor. The princess never spoke a word, and the king thought that she was a mute. They would have lived happily together if it had not been for the king's mother, who began to slander her to him, 'You have brought home a common beggar girl, and behind your back she is doing the most unspeakable things.' Because the queen could not defend herself, the king was led into believing his mother, and finally he had his wife sentenced to death. A large fire was set in the courtyard where she was to be burned to death. She was already standing in the fire, with the flames jumping at her dress when the last minutes of the twelve years elapsed. There was a rushing sound in the air, and twelve ravens came flying down and landed. When they touched the earth they turned into twelve handsome princes, who scattered the fire about, and pulled out their sister. Then she spoke once again, telling the king everything, how she had had to redeem her twelve brothers, and they all rejoiced that everything turned out so well. But what should they do with the wicked stepmother? She was thrown into a barrel filled with boiling oil and poisonous snakes, and died a miserable death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Twelve Wild Ducks,Norway,Link to the original Norwegian text: De tolv villender.,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), pp. 423-32.","Once on a time there was a queen who was out driving, when there had been a new fall of snow in the winter; but when she had gone a little way, she began to bleed at the nose, and had to get out of her sledge. And so, as she stood there, leaning against the fence, and saw the red blood on the white snow, she fell a thinking how she had twelve sons and no daughter, and she said to herself, 'If I only had a daughter as white as snow and as red as blood, I shouldn't care what became of all my sons.' But the words were scarce out of her mouth before an old witch of the trolls came up to her. 'A daughter you shall have,' she said, 'and she shall be as white as snow and as red as blood; and your sons shall be mine, but you may keep them till the babe is christened.' So when the time came the queen had a daughter, and she was as white as snow, and as red as blood, just as the troll had promised, and so they called her 'Snow-White and Rosy-Red.' Well, there was great joy at the king's court, and the queen was as glad as glad could be; but when what she had promised to the old witch came into her mind, she sent for a silversmith, and bade him make twelve silver spoons, one for each prince, and after that she bade him make one more, and that she gave to Snow-White and Rosy-Red. But as soon as ever the princess was christened, the princes were turned into twelve wild ducks, and flew away. They never saw them again. Away they went, and away they stayed. So the princess grew up, and she was both tall and fair, but she was often so strange and sorrowful, and no one could understand what it was that ailed her. But one evening, the queen was also sorrowful, for she had many strange thoughts when she thought of her sons. She said to Snow-White and Rosy-Red, 'Why are you so sorrowful, my daughter? Is there anything you want? If so, only say the word, and you shall have it.' 'Oh, it seems so dull and lonely here,' said Snow-White and Rosy-Red.' Everyone else has brothers and sisters, but I am all alone; I have none; and that's why I'm so sorrowful.' 'But you had brothers, my daughter,' said the queen. 'I had twelve sons who were your brothers, but I gave them all away to get you.' And so she told her the whole story. So when the princes heard that, she had no rest; for, in spite of all the queen could say or do, and all she wept and prayed, the lassie would set off to seek her brothers, for she thought it was all her fault; and at last she got leave to go away from the palace. On and on she walked into the wide world, so far, yon would never have thought a young lady could have strength to walk so far. So, once, when she was walking through a great, great wood, one day she felt tired, and sat down on a mossy tuft and fell asleep. Then she dreamt that she went deeper and deeper into the wood, till she came to a little wooden hut, and there she found her brothers; just then she woke, and straight before her she saw a worn path in the green moss, and this path went deeper into the wood; so she followed it, and after a long time she came to just such a little wooden house as that she had seen in her dream. Now, when she went into the room there was no one at home, but there stood twelve beds, and twelve chairs, and twelve spoons -- a dozen of everything, in short. So when she saw that she was so glad, she hadn't been so glad for many a long year, for she could guess at once that her brothers lived here, and that they owned the beds, and chairs, and spoons. So she began to make up the fire, and sweep the room, and make the beds, and cook the dinner, and to make the house as tidy as she could; and when she had done all the cooking and work, she ate her own dinner, and crept under her youngest brother's bed, and lay down there, but she forgot her spoon upon the table. So she had scarcely laid herself down before she heard something flapping and whirring in the air, and so all the twelve wild ducks came sweeping in; but as soon as they crossed over the threshold they became princes. 'Oh, how nice and warm it is in here,' they said. 'Heaven bless him who made up the fire, and cooked such a good dinner for us.' And so each took up his silver spoon and was going to eat. But when each had taken his own there was one still left lying on the table, and it was so like the rest that they couldn't tell it from them. 'This is our sister's spoon,' they said; 'and if her spoon be here, she can't be very far off herself.' 'If this be our sister's spoon, and she be here,' said the eldest, 'she shall be killed, for she is to blame for all the ill we suffer.' And this she lay under the bed and listened to. 'No' said the youngest; ''twere a shame to kill her for that. She has nothing to do with our suffering ill; for if any one's to blame, it's our own mother.' So they set to work hunting for her both high and low, and at last they looked under all the beds, and so when they came to the youngest prince's bed, they found her, and dragged her out. Then the eldest prince wished again to have her killed, but she begged and prayed so prettily for herself. 'Oh! gracious goodness! don't kill me, for I've gone about seeking you these three years, and if I could only set you free, I'd willingly lose my life.' 'Well! 'said they, 'if you will set us free, you may keep your life; for you can if you choose.' 'Yes; only tell me,' said the princess, 'how it can be done, and I'll do it, whatever it be.' 'You must pick thistledown,' said the princes, 'and you must card it, and spin it, and weave it; and after you have done that, you must cut out and make twelve coats, and twelve shirts, and twelve neckerchiefs, one for each of us, and while you do that, you must neither talk, nor laugh, nor weep. If you can do that, we are free.' 'But where shall I ever get thistle-down enough for so many neckerchiefs, and shirts, and coats? ' asked Snow-White and Rosy-Red. 'We'll soon show you,' said the princes. And so they took her with them to a great wide moor, where there stood such a crop of thistles, all nodding and nodding in the breeze, and the down all floating and glistening like gossamers through the air in the sunbeams. The princess had never seen such a quantity of thistledown in her life, and she began to pluck and gather it as fast and as well as she could; and when she got home at night she set to work carding and spinning yarn from the down. So she went on a long long time, picking, and carding, and spinning, and all the while keeping the princes' house, cooking, and making their beds. At evening home they came, flapping and whirring like wild ducks, and all night they were princes, but in the morning off they flew again, and were wild ducks the whole day. But now it happened once, when she was out on the moor to pick thistledown -- and if I don't mistake, it was the very last time she was to go thither -- it happened that the young king who ruled that land was out hunting, and came riding across the moor and saw her. So he stopped there and wondered who the lovely lady could be that walked along the moor picking thistledown, and he asked her her name, and when he could get no answer, he was still more astonished. And at last he liked her so much, that nothing would do but he must take her home to his castle and marry her. So he ordered his servants to take her and put her up on his horse. Snow-White and Rosy-Red, she wrung her hands, and made signs to them, and pointed to the bags in which her work was, and when the king saw she wished to have them with her, he told his men to take up the bags behind them. When they had done that the princess came to herself, little by little, for the king was both a wise man and a handsome man too, and he was as soft and kind to her as a doctor. But when they got home to the palace, and the old queen, who was his stepmother, set eyes on Snow-White and Rosy-Red, she got so cross and jealous of her because she was so lovely, that she said to the king, 'Can't you see now, that this thing whom you have picked up, and whom you are going to many, is a witch. Why, she can't either talk, or laugh, or weep!' But the king didn't care a pin for what she said, but held on with the wedding, and married Snow-White and Rosy-Red, and they lived in great joy and glory; but she didn't forget to go on sewing at her shirts. So when the year was almost out, Snow-White and Rosy-Red brought a prince into the world, and then the old queen was more spiteful and jealous than ever, and at dead of night, she stole in to Snow-White and Rosy-Red, while she slept, and took away her babe, and threw it into a pit full of snakes. After that she cut Snow-White and Rosy-Red in her finger, and smeared the blood over her mouth, and went straight to the king. 'Now come and see,' she said, 'what sort of a thing you have taken for your queen; here she has eaten up her own babe.' Then the king was so downcast, he almost burst into tears, and said, 'Yes, it must be true, sure I see it with my own eyes; but she'll not do it again, I'm sure, and so this time I'll spare her life.' So before the next year was out she had another son, and the same thing happened. The king's stepmother got more and more jealous and spiteful. She stole in to the young queen at night while she slept, took away the babe, and threw it into a pit full of snakes, cut the young queen's finger, and smeared the blood over her mouth, and then went and told the king she had eaten up her own child. Then the king was so sorrowful, you can't think how sorry he was, and he said, 'Yes, it must be true, since I see it with my own eyes; but she'll not do it again, I'm sure, and so this time too I'll spare her life.' Well! before the next year was out, Snow-White and Rosy-Red brought a daughter into the world, and her, too, the old queen took and threw into the pit full of snakes, while the young queen slept. Then she cut her finger, smeared the blood over her mouth, and went again to the king and said, ' Now you may come and see if it isn't as I say; she's a wicked, wicked witch for here she has gone and eaten up her third babe too.' Then the king was so sad, there was no end to it, for now he couldn't spare her any longer, but had to order her to be burnt alive on a pile of wood. But just when the pile was all ablaze, and they were going to put her on it, she made signs to them to take twelve boards and lay them round the pile, and on these she laid the neckerchiefs, and the shirts, and the coats for her brothers, but the youngest brother's shirt wanted its left arm, for she hadn't had time to finish it. And as soon as ever she had done that, they heard such a flapping and whirring in the air, and down came twelve wild ducks flying over the forest, and each of them snapped up his clothes in his bill and flew off with them. 'See now! ' said the old queen to the king, 'Wasn't I right when I told you she was a witch; but make haste and burn her before the pile burns low.' 'Oh!' said the king, 'We've wood enough and to spare, and so I'll wait a bit, for I have a mind to see what the end of all this will be.' As he spoke up came the twelve princes riding along, as handsome well-grown lads as you'd wish to see; but the youngest prince had a wild duck's wing instead of his left arm. 'What's all this about?' asked the princes. 'My queen is to be burnt,' said the king, 'because she's a witch, and because she has eaten up her own babes.' 'She hasn't eaten them at all,' said the princes. 'Speak now, sister. You have set us free and saved us, now save yourself.' Then Snow-White and Rosy-Red spoke, and told the whole story; how every time she was brought to bed, the old queen, the king's stepmother, had stolen into her at night, and taken her babes away, and cut her little finger, and smeared the blood over her mouth. And then the princes took the king, and showed him the snake pit where three babes lay playing with adders and toads, and lovelier children you never saw. So the king had them taken out at once, and went to his stepmother, and asked her what punishment she thought that woman deserved who could find it in her heart to betray a guiltless queen and three such blessed little babes. 'She deserves to be fast bound between twelve unbroken steeds, so that each may take his share of her,' said the old queen. 'You have spoken your own doom,' said the king, 'and you shall suffer it at once.' So the wicked old queen was fast bound between twelve unbroken steeds, and each got his share of her. But the king took Snow-White and Rosy-Red, and their three children, and the twelve princes; and so they all went home to their father and mother, and told all that had befallen them, and there was joy and gladness over the whole kingdom, because the princess was saved and set free, and because she had set free her twelve brothers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
451,The Twelve Wild Geese,Ireland,NA,"Patrick Kennedy, The Fireside Stories of Ireland (Dublin: M'Glashan and Gill, 1870), pp. 14-19.","There was once a king and queen that lived very happily together, and they had twelve sons and not a single daughter. We are always wishing for what we haven't, and don't care for what we have, and so it was with the queen. One day in winter, when the bawn was covered with snow, she was looking out of the parlor window, and saw there a calf that was just killed by the butcher, and a raven standing near it. 'Oh,' says she, 'if I had only a daughter with her skin as white as that snow, her cheeks as red as that blood, and her hair as black as that raven, I'd give away every one of my twelve sons for her.' The moment she said the word, she got a great fright, and a shiver went through her, and in an instant after, a severe-looking old woman stood before her. 'That was a wicked wish you made,' said she, 'and to punish you it will be granted. You will have such a daughter as you desire, but the very day of her birth you will lose your other children.' She vanished the moment she said the words. And that very way it turned out. When she expected her delivery, she had her children all in a large room of the palace, with guards all round it, but the very hour her daughter came into the world, the guards inside and outside heard a great whirling and whistling, and the twelve princes were seen flying one after another out through the open window, and away like so many arrows over the woods. Well, the king was in great grief for the loss of his sons, and be would be very enraged with his wife if he only knew that she was so much to blame for it. Everyone called the little princess Snow-White-and-Rose-Red on account of her beautiful complexion. She was the most loving and loveable child that could be seen anywhere. When she was twelve years old she began to be very sad and lonely, and to torment her mother, asking her about her brothers that she thought were dead, for none up to that time ever told her the exact thing that happened them. The secret was weighing very heavy on the queen's conscience, and as the little girl persevered in her questions, at last she told her. 'Well, mother,' said she, 'it was on my account my poor brothers were changed into wild geese, and are now suffering all sorts of hardship; before the world is a day older, I'll be off to seek them, and try to restore them to their own shapes.' The king and queen had her well watched, but all was no use. Next night she was getting through the woods that surrounded the palace, and she went on and on that night, and till the evening of next day. She had a few cakes with her, and she got nuts, and mugoreens (fruit of the sweet briar) and some sweet crabs as she went along. At last she came to a nice wooden house just at sunset. There was a fine garden round it, full of the handsomest flowers, and a gate in the hedge. She went in, and saw a table laid out with twelve plates, and twelve knives and forks, and twelve spoons, and there were cakes, and cold wild fowl, and fruit along with the plates, and there was a good fire, and in another long room there were twelve beds. Well, while she was looking about her she heard the gate opening, and footsteps along the walk, and in came twelve young men, and there was great grief and surprise on all their faces when they laid eyes on her. 'Oh, what misfortune sent you here?' said the eldest. 'For the sake of a girl we were obliged to leave our father's court, and be in the shape of wild geese all day. That's twelve years ago, and we took a solemn oath that we would kill the first young girl that came into our hands. It's a pity to put such an innocent and handsome girl as you are out of the world, but we must keep our oath.' 'But,' said she, 'I'm your only sister that never knew anything about this till yesterday; and I stole away from our father's and mother's palace last night to find you out and relieve you if I can.' Every one of them clasped his hands, and looked down on the floor, and you could hear a pin fall till the eldest cried out, 'A curse light on our oath! what shall we do?' 'I'll tell you that,' said an old woman that appeared at the instant among them. 'Break your wicked oath which no one should keep. If you attempted to lay an uncivil finger on her I'd change you into twelve booliaun buis (stalks of ragweed), but I wish well to you as well as to her. She is appointed to be your deliverer in this way. She must spin and knit twelve shirts for you out of bog down, to be gathered by her own hands on the moor just outside of the wood. It will take her five years to do it, and if she once speaks, or laughs, or cries the whole time, you will have to remain wild geese by day till you're called out of the world. So take care of your sister; it is worth your while.' The fairy then vanished, and it was only a strife with the brothers to see who would be first to kiss and hug their sister. So for three long years the poor young princess was occupied pulling bog down, spinning it, and knitting it into shirts, and at the end of the three years she had eight made. During all that time, she never spoke a word, nor laughed, nor cried; the last was the hardest to refrain from. One fine day she was sitting in the garden spinning, when in sprung a fine greyhound and bounded up to her, and laid his paws on her shoulder, and licked her forehead and her hair. The next minute a beautiful young prince rode up to the little garden gate, took off his hat, and asked for leave to come in. She gave him a little nod, and in he walked. He made ever so many apologies for intruding, and asked her ever so many questions, but not a word could he get out of her. He loved her so much from the first moment, that he could not leave her till he told her he was king of a country just bordering on the forest, and he begged her to come home with him, and be his wife. She couldn't help loving him as much as he did her, and though she shook her head very often and was very sorry to leave her brothers, at last she nodded her head, and put her hand in his, she knew well enough that the good fairy and her brothers would he able to find her out. Before she went she brought out a basket holding all her bog down, and another holding the eight shirts. The attendants took charge of these, and the prince placed her before him on his horse. The only thing that disturbed him while riding along was the displeasure his stepmother would feel at what he had done. However he was full master at home, and as soon as he arrived he sent for the bishop, got his bride nicely dressed, and the marriage was celebrated, the bride answering by signs. He knew by her manners she was of high birth, and no two could be fonder of each other. The wicked stepmother did all she could to make mischief, saying she was sure she was only a woodman's daughter; but nothing could disturb the young king's opinion of his wife. In good time the young queen was delivered of a beautiful boy, and the king was so glad he hardly knew what to do for joy. All the grandeur of the christening and the happiness of the parents tormented the bad woman more than I can tell you, and she determined to put a stop to all their comfort. She got a sleeping posset given to the young mother, and while she was thinking and thinking how she could best make away with the child, she saw a wicked-looking wolf in the garden, looking up at her, and licking his chops. She lost no time, but snatched the child from the arms of the sleeping woman, and pitched it out. The beast caught it in his mouth, and was over the garden fence in a minute. The wicked woman then pricked her own fingers, and dabbled the blood round the mouth of the sleeping mother. Well, the young king was just then coming into the big bawn from hunting, and as soon as he entered the house, she beckoned to him, shed a few crocodile tears, began to cry and wring her hands, and hurried him along the passage to the bedchamber. Oh, wasn't the poor king frightened when he saw the queen's mouth bloody, and missed his child? It would take two hours to tell you the devilment of the old queen, the confusion, and fright, and grief of young king and queen, the bad opinion he began to feel of his wife, and the struggle she had to keep down her bitter sorrow, and not give way to it by speaking or lamenting. The young king would not allow anyone to be called, and ordered his step-mother to give out that the child fell from the mother's arms at the window, and that a wild beast ran off with it. The wicked woman pretended to do so, but she told underhand to everybody she spoke to, what the king and herself saw in the bedchamber. The young queen was the most unhappy woman in the three kingdoms for a long time, between sorrow for her child, and her husband's bad opinion; still she neither spoke nor cried, and she gathered bog down and went on with the shirts. Often the twelve wild geese would be seen lighting on the trees in the park or on the smooth sod, and looking in at her windows. So she worked on to get the shirts finished, but another year was at an end, and she had the twelfth shirt finished except one arm, when she was obliged to take to her bed, and a beautiful girl was born. Now the king was on his guard, and he would not let the mother and child be left alone for a minute; but the wicked woman bribed some of the attendants, set others asleep, gave the sleepy posset to the queen, and had a person watching to snatch the child away, and kill it. But what should she see but the same wolf in the garden looking up, and licking his chops again? Out went the child, and away with it flew the wolf, and she smeared the sleeping mother's mouth and face with blood, and then roared, and bawled, and cried out to the king and to everybody she met, and the room was filled, and every one was sure the young queen had just devoured her own babe. The poor mother thought now her life would leave her. She was in such a state she could neither think nor pray, but she sat like a stone, and worked away at the arm of the twelfth shirt. The king was for taking her to the house in the wood where he found her, but the stepmother, and the lords of the court, and the judges would not hear of it, and she was condemned to be burned in the big bawn at three o'clock the same day. When the hour drew near, the king went to the farthest part of his palace, and there was no more unhappy man in his kingdom at that hour. When the executioners came and led her off, she took the pile of shirts in her arms. There were still a few stitches wanted, and while they were tying her to the stake, she still worked on. At the last stitch she seemed overcome and dropped a tear on her work, but the moment after she sprang up, and shouted out, 'I am innocent; call my husband!' The executioners stayed their hands, except one wicked-disposed creature who set fire to the faggot next him, and while all were struck in amaze, there was a rushing of wings, and in a moment the twelve wild geese were standing round the pile. Before you could count twelve, she flung a shirt over every bird, and there in the twinkling of an eye were twelve of the finest young men that could be collected out of a thousand. While some were untying their sister, the eldest, taking a strong stake in his hand, struck the busy executioner such a blow that he never needed another. While they were comforting the young queen, and the king was hurrying to the spot, a fine-looking woman appeared among them holding the babe on one arm and the little prince by the hand. There was nothing hut crying for joy, and laughing for joy, and hugging and kissing, and when any one had time to thank the good fairy, who in the shape of a wolf, carried the child away, she was not to be found. Never was such happiness enjoyed in any palace that ever was built, and if the wicked queen and her helpers were not torn by wild horses they richly deserved it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
333,Cattarinetta,Italy,"This story is from South Tyrol, an alpine region in northern Italy but with historical and cultural ties to Austria. Aarne-Thompson type 333A.","Christian Schneller, 'Cattarinetta,' Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 5, pp. 8-9.","Once upon a time there was a mother who had a little daughter named Cattarinetta. One day she wanted to bake a cake and so she sent the girl to borrow a pan from her aunt, who was a wicked witch. The aunt gave the pan to the girl, saying, 'Don't forget to bring me a piece of cake.' The cake was baked, and as soon as it was done the mother cut off a piece and put it in the pan, which the girl was to take back to the aunt. The delicious piece of cake tempted the girl, and as she walked along she pinched off one bite after the other and ate it, until finally there was nothing left in the pan. She was terrified, but she thought of a trick that would help her. She picked up a cow pie from the path and laid it in the pan so that it looked like a piece of cake with brown crust. 'Did you bring me the pan and a piece of cake?' asked the aunt as Cattarinetta arrived. 'Yes,' said the girl, then set the pan down and ran away hurriedly. Cattarinetta arrived back home, and when night fell she went to bed. Then suddenly she heard her aunt's voice calling, 'Cattarinetta, I am coming. I am already at your front door!' The girl slid further down into her bed, but the voice called out in short intervals again and again: 'Cattarinetta, I am coming. I am already on the stairway!' 'Cattarinetta, I am coming. I am already just outside your door!' 'Cattarinetta, I am coming. I am already beside your bed!' And slurp! She swallowed up the girl.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2015,Nanny Who Wouldn't Go Home to Supper,NA,"The text of this tale in Norwegian: Hårslå, som aldri ville hjem gå. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 2015. Links to additional chain tales.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated from the Norwegian by H. L. Brækstad (London: David Nutt, 1897), pp. 246-52.","'My dear Nanny, you must not stay any longer up there; you must come home now, it is just supper time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I shan't,' said Nanny, 'not before I have finished the grass on this tussock, and that tussock and this and that tussock.' 'Then I'll go and tell mother,' said the lad. 'That you may, and then I shall be left to eat in peace,' said Nanny. So Espen went and told his mother. 'Go to the fox and ask him to bite Nanny,' said his mother. The lad went to the fox. 'My dear fox, bite Nanny, for Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry, and I want my supper,' said Espen. 'No, I don't want to spoil my snout on pig's bristles and goat's beard,' said the fox. So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the wolf,' said his mother. The lad went to the wolf: 'My dear wolf, tear the fox, for the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry, and I want my supper.' 'No,' said the wolf, 'I won't wear out my paws and teeth on a skinny fox.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the bear and ask him to slay the wolf,' said the mother. The lad went to the bear. 'My dear bear, slay the wolf, for the wolf won't tear the fox, and the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, that I won't,' said the bear; 'I don't want to wear out my claws for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the Finn and ask him to shoot the bear.' The lad went to the Finn. 'My dear Finn, shoot the bear, for the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the Finn; 'I am not going to shoot away my bullets for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well go to the fir,' said his mother, 'and ask it to crush the Finn.' The lad went to the fir tree: 'My dear fir, crush the Finn, for the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the fir, 'I am not going to break my boughs for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the fire,' said his mother, 'and ask it to burn the fir.' The lad went to the fire: 'My dear fire, burn the fir, for the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the fire, 'I am not going to burn myself out for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the water, and ask it to quench the fire,' she said. The lad went to the water. 'My dear water, quench the fire, for the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the water, 'I am not going to waste myself for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the ox,' said she, 'and ask him to drink up the water.' The lad went to the ox: 'My dear ox, drink up the water, for the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the ox. 'I'm not going to burst myself for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the yoke,' said she, 'and ask it to throttle the ox.' The lad went to the yoke. 'My dear yoke, throttle the ox, for the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the yoke. 'I'm not going to break myself in two for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the axe,' said she, 'and tell it to split the yoke.' The lad went to the axe. 'My dear axe, split the yoke, for the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the axe. 'I am not going to blunt my edge for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the smith,' said she, 'and ask him to hammer the axe.' The lad went to the smith. 'My dear smith! hammer the axe, for the axe won't split the yoke, the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the smith. 'I'll not burn my coals and wear out my sledge-hammers for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the rope,' said she, 'and ask it to hang the smith.' The lad went to the rope. 'My dear rope, hang the smith, for the smith won't hammer the axe, the axe won't split the yoke, the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the rope. 'I'm not going to break in two for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the mouse,' said she, 'and ask her to gnaw the rope.' The lad went to the mouse. 'My dear mouse, gnaw the rope, for the rope won't hang the smith, the smith won't hammer the axe, the axe won't split the yoke, the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the mouse. 'I'm not going to wear out my teeth for that.' So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the cat,' said she, 'and ask her to catch the mouse.' The lad went to the cat. 'My dear cat, catch the mouse, for the mouse won't gnaw the rope, the rope won't hang the smith, the smith won't hammer the axe, the axe won't split the yoke, the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'Yes, but give me a drop of milk for my kittens, and then' said the cat. Yes, that she should have. So the cat caught the mouse, and the mouse gnawed the rope, and the rope hanged the smith, and the smith hammered the axe, and the axe split the yoke, and the yoke throttled the ox, and the ox drank the water, and the water quenched the fire, and the fire burned the fir, and the fir crushed the Finn, and the Finn shot the bear, and the bear slew the wolf, and the wolf tore the fox, and the fox bit Nanny, and Nanny took to her heels, scampered home, and ran against the barn wall and broke one of her legs. 'M-a-h-a-h!' bleated the goat. There she lay, and if she isn't dead she is still limping about on three legs. But Espen said it served her right, because she would not come home in time for supper that day. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology. Revised April 29, 2009.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2022,Little Louse and Little Flea,Germany,"The Grimms' source: Dorothea Catharina Wild (1752-1813). This tale was introduced to the Grimms' collection in the first edition (1812). Translator's notes: From the German-language original it is impossible to determine the genders of the louse and the flea. I have arbitrarily made the deceased louse a female and the grieving flea a male, although it could also have been the other way around. Most English translators have ignored the diminutive endings in the Grimms' title Läuschen und Flöhchen, thus translating the title as 'The Louse and the Flea.' From the German-language original it is impossible to determine the genders of the louse and the flea. I have arbitrarily made the deceased louse a female and the grieving flea a male, although it could also have been the other way around. Most English translators have ignored the diminutive endings in the Grimms' title Läuschen und Flöhchen, thus translating the title as 'The Louse and the Flea.' Link to the text of this tale in a single file: Little Louse and Little Flea.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Läuschen und Flöhchen, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 30.","A little louse and a little flea kept house together. They were brewing beer in an eggshell when the little louse fell in and burned herself to death. At this the little flea began to cry loudly. Then the little parlor door said, 'Why are you crying, little flea?' 'Because little louse has burned herself to death.' Then the little door began to creak. Then a little broom in the corner said, 'Why are you creaking, little door?' 'Why should I not be creaking? Little louse has burned herself to death. Little flea is crying.' Then the little broom began to sweep furiously. Then a little cart came by and said, 'Why are you sweeping, little broom?' 'Why should I not be sweeping? Little flea is crying. Little door is creaking.' Then the little cart said, 'Then I will run,' and it began to run furiously. It ran by a little manure pile, which said, 'Why are you running, little cart?' 'Why should I not be running? Little door is creaking. Little broom is sweeping.' Then the little manure pile said, 'Then I will burn furiously,' and it began to burn in bright flames. A little tree that stood near the little manure pile said, 'Little manure pile, why are you burning?' 'Why should I not be burning? Little broom is sweeping. Little cart is running.' Then the little tree said, 'Then I will shake myself,' and it began to shake itself until all its leaves fell off. A girl who came up with her water pitcher saw that, and said, 'Little tree, why are you shaking?' 'Why should I not be shaking? Little cart is running. Little manure pile is burning.' Then the girl said, 'Then I will break my little water pitcher.' And she broke her little water pitcher. Then the little spring from which the water was flowing said, 'Girl, why did you break your little water pitcher?' 'Why should I not break my little water pitcher? Little manure pile is burning. Little tree is shaking.' 'Oh,' said the spring, 'then I will begin to flow,' and it began to flow furiously. And everything drowned in the water: the girl, the little tree, the little manure pile, the little cart, the little broom, the little door, the little flea, and the little louse, all together. und Flöhchen, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 30. introduced to the Grimms' collection in the first edition (1812). From the German-language original it is impossible to determine the genders of the louse and the flea. I have arbitrarily made the deceased louse a female and the grieving flea a male, although it could also have been the other way around. Grimms' title Läuschen und Flöhchen, thus translating the title as 'The Louse and the Flea.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2022,The Cat and the Mouse,Italy,The episode of the cat choosing a mate is classified as Aarne-Thompson type 2023.,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1885), no. 82, pp. 257-259.","Once upon a time there was a cat that wanted to get married. So she stood on a corner, and every one who passed by said, 'Little Cat, what's the matter?' 'What's the matter? I want to marry.' A dog passed by and said, 'Do you want me?' 'When I see how you can sing.' The dog said, 'Bow, wow!' 'Fy! What horrid singing! I don't want you.' A pig passed. 'Do you want me, Little Cat?' 'When I see how you sing.' 'Uh! uh!' 'Fy! You are horrid! Go away! I don't want you.' A calf passed and said, 'Little Cat, will you take me?' 'Uhm!' 'Go away, for you are horrid! What do you want of me?' A mouse passed by: 'Little Cat, what are you doing ?' 'I am going to get married.' 'Will you take me?' 'And how can you sing?' 'Ziu, ziu!' The cat accepted him, and said, 'Let us go and be married, for you please me.' So they were married. One day the cat went to buy some pastry, and left the mouse at home. 'Don't stir out, for I am going to buy some pastry.' The mouse went into the kitchen, saw the pot on the fire, and crept into it, for he wanted to eat the beans. But he did not; for the pot began to boil, and the mouse stayed there. The cat came back and began to cry; but the mouse did not appear. So the cat put the pastry in the pot for dinner. When it was ready the cat ate, and put some on a plate for the mouse also. When she took out the pastry she saw the mouse stuck fast in it. 'Ah! my little mouse! Ah! my little mouse!' So she went and sat behind the door, lamenting the mouse. 'What is the matter,' said the door, 'that you are scratching yourself so and tearing out your hair?' The cat said, 'What is the matter? My mouse is dead, and so I tear my hair.' The door answered, 'And I, as door, will slam.' In the door was a window, which said, 'What's the matter, door, that you are slamming?' 'The mouse died, the cat is tearing her hair, and I am slamming.' The window answered, 'And I, as window, will open and shut.' In the window was a tree, that said, 'Window, why do you open and shut?' The window answered, 'The mouse died, the cat tears her hair, the door slams, and I open and shut.' The tree answered and said, 'And I, as tree, will throw myself down.' A bird happened to alight in this tree, and said: 'Tree, why did you throw yourself down?' The tree replied, 'The mouse died, the cat tears her hair, the door slams, the window opens and shuts, and I, as tree, threw myself down.' 'And I, as bird, will pull out my feathers.' The bird went and alighted on a fountain, which said, 'Bird, why are you plucking out your feathers so?' The bird answered as the others had done, and the fountain said, 'And I, as fountain, will dry up.' A cuckoo went to drink at the fountain, and asked, 'Fountain, why have you dried up?' And the fountain told him all that had happened. 'And I, as cuckoo, will put my tail in the fire.' A monk of St. Nicholas passed by, and said, 'Cuckoo, why is your tail in the fire?' When the monk heard the answer he said, 'And I, as monk of St. Nicholas, will go and say mass without my robes.' Then came the queen, who, when she heard what the matter was, said, 'And I, as queen, will go and sift the meal.' At last the king came by, and asked, ' 0h Queen! Why are you sifting the meal?' When the queen had told him everything, he said: 'And I, as king, am going to take my coffee.' and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1885), no. 82, pp. 257-259. type 2023.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2022,The Cock Who Fell into the Brewing Vat,Norway,Link to the story in the original Norwegian: Hanen som falt I bryggekaret.,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated by H. L. Brækstad (New York: A. L. Burt Company, 1897), pp. 172-177.","All at once the hen found a barleycorn, and the cock found a bur of hops, and so they made up their minds they would make some malt and brew beer for Christmas. 'I plucked the barley and I malted the corn and brewed the beer, and the beer is good,' cackled the hen. 'Is the wort strong enough?' said the cock, and flew up to the edge of the vat to taste it; but when he stooped down to take a sip he began flapping with his wings and fell on his head into the vat and was drowned. When the hen saw this she was quite beside herself. She flew onto the hearth and began to scream and cry, 'Got, got, got, drowned! Got, got, got, drowned!' And this she went on crying all the time and would not stop. 'What is the matter with you, Mother Tup, since you are crying and grieving so?' asked the hand-quern. 'Oh, Father Tup has fallen into the brewing vat and got drowned and there he lies dead!' said the hen. 'That's the reason I cry and grieve.' 'Well, if I can't do anything else I will grind and groan,' said the hand-quern, and began grinding as fast as it could. When the stool heard this it said, 'What's the matter with you, quern, since you groan and grind so fast?' 'Oh, Father Tup has fallen into the brewing vat and got drowned; Mother Tup is sitting on the hearth, crying and grieving; therefore I grind and groan,' said the hand-quern. 'Well, if I can't do anything else I shall creak,' said the stool, and began creaking and cracking. This the door heard, so it said, 'What's the matter with you? Why are you creaking, stool?' 'Oh, Father Tup has fallen into the brewing vat and got drowned; Mother Tup is sitting on the hearth crying and grieving and the hand-quern is grinding and groaning; therefore I creak and crack and crackle,' said the stool. 'Well, if I can't do anything else I'll bang and slam and whine and whistle' said the door, and began opening and shutting and slamming and banging till it went through one's bones and marrow to hear it. This the dustbin heard. 'Why are you slamming and banging like that, door?' said the bin. 'Oh, Father Tup fell into the brewing vat and got drowned; Mother Tup is sitting on the hearth crying and grieving; the hand-quern is grinding and groaning; the stool is creaking and cracking; therefore I keep slamming and banging,' said the door. 'Well, if I can't do anything else I'll fume and smoke,' said the dustbin, and began fuming and smoking and sending the dust up in clouds all over the room. This the hay-rake saw, as it stood peeping in through the window. 'Why are you raising the dust like that, dustbin?' asked the rake. 'Oh, Father Tup fell into the brewing vat and got drowned; Mother Tup is sitting on the hearth crying and grieving; the hand-quern is grinding and groaning; the stool is creaking and cracking; the door is slamming and banging; therefore I keep fuming and smoking,' said the dustbin. 'Well, if I can't do anything else I'll rake and rend,' said the rake, and began rending and raking. This the aspen tree saw as it looked on. 'Why do you rend and rake like that, rake? said the tree. 'Oh, Father Tup fell into the brewing vat and got drowned; Mother Tup is sitting on the hearth crying and grieving; the hand-quern is grinding and groaning; the stool is creaking and cracking; the door is slamming and banging; the dustbin is fuming and smoking; therefore I keep rending and raking,' said the rake. 'Well, if I can't do anything else,' said the aspen, 'I will quiver and quake.' This the birds noticed. 'Why do you quiver and quake like that?' said the birds to the tree. 'Oh, Father Tup fell into the brewing vat and got drowned; Mother Tup is sitting on the hearth crying and grieving; the hand-quern is grinding and groaning; the stool is creaking and cracking; the door is slamming and banging; the dustbin is fuming and smoking; the rake is rending and raking; therefore I quiver and quake,' said the aspen. 'Well, if we can't do anything else we will pluck off our feathers,' said the birds, and began pecking and plucking till the feathers flew about the farm like snow. The farmer stood looking on, and when he saw the feathers flying about he asked the birds, 'Why are you plucking off your feathers like that, birds?' 'Oh, Father Tup fell into the brewing vat and got drowned; Mother Tup is sitting on the hearth crying and grieving; the hand-quern is grinding and groaning; the stool is creaking and cracking; the door is slamming and banging; the dustbin is fuming and smoking; the rake is rending and raking; the aspen is quivering and quaking; therefore we keep pecking and plucking,' said the birds. 'Well, if I can't do anything else I will pull the besoms to pieces,' said the farmer, and began tugging and pulling the besoms to pieces, so that the twigs flew about, both east and west. His wife was boiling the porridge for supper when she saw this. 'Why are you pulling the besoms to pieces, husband?' said she. 'Oh, Father Tup fell into the brewing vat and got drowned; Mother Tup is sitting on the hearth crying and grieving; the hand-quern is grinding and groaning; the stool is creaking and cracking; the door is slamming and banging; the dustbin is fuming and smoking; the rake is rending and raking; the aspen is quivering and quaking; the birds are pecking and plucking off their feathers; therefore I am pulling the besom to pieces,' said the man. 'Well, then I'll daub the walls all over with porridge,' she said. And she set about it there and then, and took one ladleful after another and smeared the porridge all over the walls, so that no one could see what they were made of. Then they kept the burial feast of the cock who fell into the brewing vat. And if you don't believe it, you had better go there and taste both the beer and the porridge.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2022,The Death and Burial of Poor Hen-Sparrow,Pakistan,"This collection was first published under the title of Wide-Awake Stories (London: Trubner and Company, 1884). A new edition appeared under the title Tales of the Punjab: Told by the People (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894). Steel's source for this story: 'Hajjan, a Pathan girl at Muzaffargarh.'","Flora Annie Steel (1847-1929), Tales of the Punjab: Told by the People (London: The Bodley Head, 1973), no. 18, pp. 100-107.","Once upon a time there lived a cock-sparrow and his wife, who were both growing old. But despite his years the cock-sparrow was a gay, festive old bird, who plumed himself upon his appearance, and was quite a ladies' man. So he cast his eyes on a lively young hen, and determined to marry her, for he was tired of his sober old wife. The wedding was a mighty grand affair, and everybody as jolly and merry as could be, except of course the poor old wife, who crept away from all the noise and fun to sit disconsolately on a quiet branch just under a crow's nest, where she could be as melancholy as she liked without anybody poking fun at her. Now while she sat there it began to rain, and after a while the drops, soaking through the crow's nest, came drip-dripping onto her feathers. She, however, was far too miserable to care, and sat there all huddled up and peepy till the shower was over. Now it so happened that the crow had used some scraps of dyed cloth in lining its nest, and as these became wet the colors ran, and dripping down on to the poor old hen-sparrow beneath, dyed her feathers until she was as gay as a peacock. Fine feathers make fine birds, we all know, and she really looked quite spruce; so much so, that when she flew home, the new wife nearly burst with envy, and asked her at once where she had found such a lovely dress. 'Easily enough,' replied the old wife; 'I just went into the dyer's vat.' The bride instantly determined to go there also. She could not endure the notion of the old thing being better dressed than she was, so she flew off at once to the dyer's, and being in a great hurry, went pop into the middle of the vat, without waiting to see if it was hot or cold. It turned out to be just scalding. Consequently the poor thing was half boiled before she managed to scramble out. Meanwhile, the gay old cock, not finding his bride at home, flew about distractedly in search of her, and you may imagine what bitter tears he wept when he found her, half drowned and half boiled, with her feathers all awry, lying by the dyer's vat. 'What has happened?' quoth he. But the poor bedraggled thing could only gasp out feebly: The old wife was dyed -- The nasty old cat! And I, the gay bride, Fell into the vat! Whereupon the cock-sparrow took her up tenderly in his bill and flew away home with his precious burden. Now, just as he was crossing the big river in front of his house, the old hen-sparrow, in her gay dress, looked out of the window, and when she saw her old husband bringing home his young bride in such a sorry plight, she burst out laughing shrilly, and called aloud, 'That is right! That is right! Remember what the song says: Old wives must scramble through water and mud, But young wives are carried dry-shod o'er the flood.' This allusion so enraged her husband that he could not contain himself, but cried out, 'Hold your tongue, you shameless old cat!' Of course, when he opened his mouth to speak, the poor draggled bride fell out, and, going plump into the river, was drowned. Whereupon the cock-sparrow was so distracted with grief that he picked off all his feathers until he was as bare as a plowed field. Then, going to a pipal tree, he sat all naked and forlorn on the branches, sobbing and sighing. 'What has happened?' cried the pipal tree, aghast at the sight. 'Don't ask me!' wailed the cock-sparrow. 'It isn't manners to ask questions when a body is in deep mourning.' But the pipal would not be satisfied without an answer, so at last poor bereaved cock-sparrow replied: The ugly hen painted. By jealousy tainted, The pretty hen dyed. Lamenting his bride, The cock, bald and bare, Sobs loud in despair! On hearing this sad tale, the pipal became overwhelmed with grief and, declaring it must mourn also, shed all its leaves on the spot. By and by a buffalo, coming in the heat of the day to rest in the shade of the pipal tree, was astonished to find nothing but bare twigs. 'What has happened?' cried the buffalo. 'You were as green as possible yesterday!' 'Don't ask me!' whimpered the pipal. 'Where are your manners? Don't you know it isn't decent to ask questions when people are in mourning?' But the buffalo insisted on having an answer, so at last, with many sobs and sighs, the pipal replied: Bewailing his bride, Sobs loud in despair; The pipal tree grieves By shedding its leaves!' 'Oh dear me!' cried the buffalo. 'How very sad! I really must mourn too!' So she immediately cast her horns, and began to weep and wail. After a while, becoming thirsty, she went to drink at the riverside. 'Goodness gracious!' cried the river, 'What is the matter? And what have you done with your horns?' 'How rude you are!' wept the buffalo. 'Can't you see I am in deep mourning? And it isn't polite to ask questions.' But the river persisted until the buffalo, with many groans, replied: By shedding its leaves; The buffalo mourns By casting her horns! 'Dreadful!' cried the river, and wept so fast that its water became quite salt [salty]. By and by a cuckoo, coming to bathe in the stream, called out, 'Why, river! What has happened? You are as salt as tears!' 'Don't ask me!' mourned the stream. 'It is too dreadful for words!' Nevertheless, when the cuckoo would take no denial, the river replied: By casting her horns; The stream, weeping fast, Grows briny at last! 'Oh dear! Oh dear me!' cried the cuckoo. 'How very, very sad! I must mourn too!' So it plucked out an eye, and going to a corn [grain] merchant's shop, sat on the doorstep and wept. 'Why, little cuckoo! what's the matter?' cried Bhagtu the shopkeeper. 'You are generally the pertest of birds, and today you are as dull as ditchwater!' 'Don't ask me!' sniveled the cuckoo. 'It is such terrible grief! Such dreadful sorrow! Such-such horrible pain!' However, when Bhagtu persisted, the cuckoo, wiping its one eye on its wing, replied: Grows briny at last; The cuckoo with sighs Blinds one of its eyes! 'Bless my heart!' cried Bhagtu, 'But that is simply the most heartrending tale I ever heard in my life! I must really mourn likewise!' Whereupon he wept, and wailed, and beat his breast, until he went completely out of his mind. And when the queen's maidservant came to buy of him, he gave her pepper instead of turmeric, onion instead of garlic, and wheat instead of pulse. 'Dear me, friend Bhagtu!' quoth the maidservant. 'Your wits are wool-gathering! What's the matter?' 'Don't! please don't!' cried Bhagtu. 'I wish you wouldn't ask me, for I am trying to forget all about it. It is too dreadful -- too, too terrible!' At last, however, yielding to the maid's entreaties, he replied, with many sobs and tears: The cock, bald and bare, Sobs loud in despair; Blinds one of its eyes; Bhagtu's grief so intense is, He loses his senses! 'How very sad!' exclaimed the maidservant. 'I don't wonder at your distress. But it is always so in this miserable world! Everything goes wrong!' Whereupon she fell to railing at everybody and everything in the world, until the queen said to her, 'What is the matter, my child? What distresses you?' 'Oh!' replied the maidservant, 'The old story! Everyone is miserable, and I most of all! Such dreadful news! -- He loses his senses; The maidservant wailing Has taken to railing! 'Too true!' wept the queen, 'Too true! The world is a vale of tears! There is nothing for it but to try and forget!' Whereupon she set to work dancing away as hard as she could. By and by in came the prince, who, seeing her twirling about, said, 'Why, mother! what is the matter?' The queen, without stopping, gasped out: Has taken to railing; The queen, joy enhancing, Takes refuge in dancing! 'If that is your mourning, I'll mourn too!' cried the prince, and seizing his tambourine, he began to thump on it with a will. Hearing the noise, the king came in, and asked what was the matter. 'This is the matter!' cried the prince, drumming away with all his might: Lamenting his bride, The cock, bald and bare, Takes refuge in dancing; To aid the mirth coming, The prince begins drumming! 'Capital! capital!' cried the king, 'That's the way to do it!' So, seizing his zither, he began to thrum away like one possessed. And as they danced, the queen, the king, the prince, and the maidservant sang: The prince begins drumming; To join in it with her The king strums the zither! So they danced and sang till they were tired, and that was how everyone mourned poor cock-sparrow's pretty bride. the People (London: The Bodley Head, 1973), no. 18, pp. 100-107. This collection was first published under the title of Wide-Awake Stories (London: Trubner and Company, 1884). A new edition appeared under the title Tales of the Punjab: Told by the People (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894). Muzaffargarh.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2022,Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse,England,"Jacobs lists his source as 'Halliwell, Nursery Rhymes, p. 115.' This volume is presumable Nursery Rhymes and Nursery Tales by James Orchard Halliwell (London, 1843). Halliwell also used the name Halliwell-Phillips.","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales, 3rd ed. (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons and David Nutt, 1898), no. 16, pp. 77-80.","Titty Mouse leased an ear of corn, and Tatty Mouse leased an ear of corn, so they both leased an ear of corn. Titty Mouse made a pudding, and Tatty Mouse made a pudding, so they both made a pudding. And Tatty Mouse put her pudding into the pot to boil, but when Titty went to put hers in, the pot tumbled over, and scalded her to death. Then Tatty sat down and wept. Then a three-legged stool said, 'Tatty, why do you weep?' 'Titty's dead,' said Tatty, 'and so I weep.' 'Then,' said the stool, 'I'll hop,' so the stool hopped. Then a broom in the corner of the room said, 'Stool, why do you hop?' 'Oh!' said the stool, 'Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and so I hop.' 'Then,' said the broom, 'I'll sweep,' so the broom began to sweep. 'Then,' said the door, 'Broom, why do you sweep?' 'Oh!' said the broom, 'Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and so I sweep.' 'Then,' said the door, 'I'll jar,' so the door jarred. Then said the window, 'Door, why do you jar?' 'Oh!' said the door, 'Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, and so I jar.' 'Then,' said the window, 'I'll creak,' so the window creaked. Now there was an old form outside the house, and when the window creaked, the form said, 'Window, why do you creak?' 'Oh!' said the window, 'Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and so I creak.' 'Then,' said the old form, 'I'll run round the house.' Then the old form ran round the house. Now there was a fine large walnut tree growing by the cottage, and the tree said to the form, 'Form, why do you run round the house?' 'Oh!' said the form, 'Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, and so I run round the house.' 'Then,' said the walnut tree, 'I'll shed my leaves,' so the walnut tree shed all its beautiful green leaves. Now there was a little bird perched on one of the boughs of the tree, and when all the leaves fell, it said, 'Walnut tree, why do you shed your leaves?' 'Oh!' said the tree, 'Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, and so I shed my leaves.' 'Then,' said the little bird, 'I'll molt all my feathers,' so he molted all his pretty feathers. Now there was a little girl walking below, carrying a jug of milk for her brothers' and sisters' supper, and when she saw the poor little bird molt all its feathers, she said, 'Little bird, why do you molt all your feathers?' 'Oh!' said the little bird, 'Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, the walnut tree sheds its leaves, and so I molt all my feathers.' 'Then,' said the little girl, 'I'll spill the milk,' so she dropped the pitcher and spilled the milk. Now there was an old man just by on the top of a ladder thatching a rick, and when he saw the little girl spill the milk, he said, 'Little girl, what do you mean by spilling the milk? Your little brothers and sisters must go without their supper.' Then said the little girl, 'Titty's dead, Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, the walnut tree sheds all its leaves, the little bird molts all its feathers, and so I spill the milk.' 'Oh!' said the old man, 'then I'll tumble off the ladder and break my neck,' so he tumbled off the ladder and broke his neck. And when the old man broke his neck, the great walnut tree fell down with a crash, and upset the old form and house, and the house falling knocked the window out, and the window knocked the door down, and the door upset the broom, and the broom upset the stool, and poor little Tatty Mouse was buried beneath the ruins.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,Dathera Dad (Addy),England,"Addy's source: 'From Eyam, in Derbyshire.'","Sidney Oldall Addy, Household Tales with Other Traditional Remains: Collected in the Counties of York, Lincoln, Derby, and Nottingham (London: David Nutt, 1895), no. 7, p. 9.","There was once a farmer's wife who made a pudding and set it on the fire to be boiled. As soon as the water began to boil the pudding jumped, and at last it jumped out upon the floor and rolled about as if it were bewitched. As the pudding was rolling about on the floor a travelling tinker came to the door, and the woman picked the pudding up and gave it to him. So the tinker put it into his budget and slung it over his back. As he trudged along the road the pudding kept rolling about in the budget till at last it broke in pieces, when out came a littlo fairy child who cried, 'Take me to my dathera dad, take me to my dathera dad.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,Johnny-Cake (#Johnnycake),NA,"Addendum by George Lyman Kittredge: In an obliging note, Miss Perry adds: 'I am not sure but that the maneen, womaneen, etc., came to the fox and asked him if he had seen a little cakeen, and he said that no little cakeen had passed; so they all ran home again.'","George Lyman Kittredge, 'English Folk-Tales in America,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 3, no. 11 (October - December 1890), pp. 291-92.","Once upon a time there was a little maneen and a little womaneen; and the little womaneen made a little cakeen and put it in the oven to bake. And the little maneen stood at one side of the oven, and said the little cakeen was done; and the little womaneen stood at the other side and said it wasn't. And while they were quarrelling about it, the little cakeen jumped out of the oven and ran off; and the little maneen and the little womaneen ran after it. Pretty soon the little cakeen came to a little pusheen [cat?], and the little pusheen said, 'Where are you going so fast, little cakeen, on those little legs of yours?' And the little cakeen said: 'I'm running away from the little maneen; I'm running away from the little womaneen, and now I'll run away from you!' So the little pusheen ran after it. Then it came to a little dogeen, and the little dogeen said, 'Where are you going so fast, little cakeen, on those little legs of yours?' And the little cakeen said: 'I'm running away from the little maneen; I'm running away from the little womaneen; I'm running away from the little pusheen, and now I'11 run away from you!' So the little dogeen ran after it (and so on, with coween, heneen, owleen, etc.). Then it came to a little foxeen; and the little foxeen said: 'Where are you going so fast, little cakeen, on those little legs of yours?' And the little cakeen answered: 'I'm running away from the little maneen; I'm running away from the little womaneen; I'm running away from the little pusheen; I'm running away from the little dogeen; I'm running away from the little coween; I'm running away from the little heneen; I'm running away from the little owleen (etc., etc.), and now I'll run away from you.' But the little foxeen said: ' Oh! don't do that, little cakeen; I will show you where to hide.' So the little cakeen said, ' All right!' So the little foxeen said: 'Jump upon my tail;' and the little cakeen jumped on his tail. Then the foxeen said: 'Jump on my back;' and the little cakeen jumped on his back. Then the little foxeen said: 'Jump on my head;' so the little cakeen jumped on his head. Then the little foxeen said: 'Now jump in my mouth.' So the little cakeen jumped into his mouth, and he ate it all up!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,Johnny-Cake (Johnnycake),USA,"Jacobs' source: American Journal of Folk-Lore, vol. 2, p. 60.","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), no. 28, pp. 155-58.","Once upon a time there was an old man, and an old woman, and a little boy. One morning the old woman made a Johnny-Cake and put it in the oven to bake. 'You watch the Johnny-Cake while your father and I go out to work in the garden.' So the old man and the old woman went out and began to hoe potatoes and left the little boy to tend the oven. But he didn't watch it all the time, and all of a sudden he heard a noise, and he looked up and the oven door popped open, and out of the oven jumped Johnny-Cake and went rolling along end over end towards the open door of the house. The little boy ran to shut the door, but Johnny-Cake was too quick for him and rolled through the door, down the steps, and out into the road long before the little boy could catch him. The little boy ran after him as fast as he could lip it, crying out to his father and mother, who heard the uproar and threw down their hoes and gave chase too. But Johnny-Cake outran all three a long way, and was soon out of sight, while they had to sit down, all out of breath, on a bank to rest. On went Johnny-Cake, and by and by he came to two well-diggers, who looked up from their work and called out, 'Where are you going, Johnny-Cake?' He said, 'I have outrun an old man and an old woman and a little boy, and I can outrun you too-o-o!' 'Ye can, can ye?' We'll see about that!' said they, and they threw down their picks and ran after him, but couldn't catch up with him, and soon they had to sit down by the roadside to rest. On ran Johnny-Cake, and by and by he came to two ditch-diggers who were digging a ditch. 'Where ye going, Johnny-Cake?' said they. He said, 'I've outrun an old man and an old woman and a little boy and two well-diggers, and I can outrun you too-o-o!' 'Ye can, can ye? We'll see about that!' said they, and they threw down their spades and ran after him too. But Johnny-Cake soon outstripped them also, and seeing they could never catch him, they gave up the chase and sat down to rest. On went Johnny-Cake, and by and by he came to a bear. The bear said, 'Where are ye going, Johnny-Cake?' He said, 'I've outrun an old man and an old woman and a little boy and two well-diggers and two ditch-diggers, and I can outrun you too-o-o!' 'Ye can, can ye?' growled the bear. 'We'll see about that!' and trotted as fast as his legs could carry him after Johnny-Cake, who never stopped to look behind him. Before long the bear was left so far behind that he saw he might as well give up the hunt first as last, so he stretched himself out by the roadside to rest. On went Johnny-Cake, and by and by he came to a wolf. The wolf said, 'Where ye going, Johnny-Cake?' He said, 'I've outrun an old man and an old woman and a little boy and two well-diggers and two ditch-diggers and a bear, an I can outrun you too-o-o!' 'Ye can, can ye?' snarled the wolf. 'We'll see about that!' And he set into a gallop after Johnny-Cake, who went on and on so fast that the wolf too saw there was no hope of overtaking him, and he too lay down to rest. On went Johnny-Cake, and by and by he came to a fox that lay quietly in a corner of the fence. The fox called out in a sharp voice, but without getting up, 'Where ye going, Johnny-Cake?' He said, 'I've outrun an old man and an old woman and a little boy and two well-diggers and two ditch-diggers, a bear, and a wolf, and I can outrun you too-o-o!' The fox said, 'I can't quite hear you, Johnny-Cake. Won't you come a little closer?' turning his head a little to one side. Johnny-Cake stopped his race for the first time, and went a little closer, and called out in a very loud voice, 'I've outrun an old man and an old woman and a little boy and two well-diggers and two ditch-diggers and a bear and a wolf, and I can outrun you too-o-o!' 'Can't quite hear you. Won't you come a little closer?' Johnny-Cake came up close, and leaning towards the fox screamed out, 'I'VE OUTRUN AN OLD MAN AND AN OLD WOMAN AND A LITTLE BOY AND TWO WELL-DIGGERS AND TWO DITCH-DIGGERS AND A BEAR AND A WOLF, AND I CAN OUTRUN YOU TOO-O-O!' 'You can, can you?' yelped the fox, and he snapped up the Johnny-Cake in his sharp teeth in the twinkling of an eye.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Devil in the Dough-Pan (Russia),Russia,Magnus' source: Alexander Afanasyev.,"Leonard A. Magnus, Russian Folk-Tales (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), p. 317.","Once a woman was kneading bread, but had forgotten to say the blessing. So the demon, Potánka, ran up and sat down in it. Then she recollected she had kneaded the dough without saying the blessing, went up to it and crossed herself; and Potánka wanted to escape, but could not anyhow, because of the blessing. So she put the leavened dough through a strainer and threw it out into the street, with Potánka inside. The pigs turned him over and over, and he could not escape for three whole days. At last he tore his way out through a crack in the dough and scampered off without looking behind him. He ran up to his comrades, who asked him, ' Where have you been, Potánka?' 'May that woman be accursed!' he said. 'Who?' 'The one who was kneading her dough and had made it without saying the proper blessing; so I ran up and squatted in it. Then she laid hold of me and crossed herself, and after three livelong days I got out, the pigs poking me about and I unable to escape! Never again will I get into a woman's dough.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Fox and the Little Bonnach (Campbell),Scotland,"Campbell's source: 'From Hector Boyd, who learnt it from one John Campbell, who died three yreas ago, at the age of thirty. --Sept. 20, 1860.' A bonnach (usually spelled bannock) is a small loaf of flat bread.","John Francis Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands: Orally Collected, vol. 3 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1862), pp. 100-101.","'And whence camest thou?' said the fox. 'I came from Geeogan, and I came from Cooaigean, and I came from the slab of the bonnach stone, and I came from the eye of the quern, and I will come from thee if I may,' quoth the little bonnach. 'Well, I myself will take thee over on my back,' said the fox. 'Thou'lt eat me, thou'lt eat me,' quoth the little honnach. 'Come then on the tip of my tail,' said the fox. 'Oh! I will not; thou wilt eat me,' said the little bonnach. 'Come into my ear,' said the fox. 'I will not go; thou wilt eat me,' said the little bonnach. 'Come into my mouth,' said the fox. 'Thou wilt eat me that time at all events,' said the little bonnach. 'Oh, I will not eat thee,' said the fox. 'At the time when I am swimming I cannot eat anything at all.' He went into his mouth. 'Oh! ho!' said the fox, 'I may do my own pleasure to thee now. It is long since it was heard that a hard morsel is good in the mouth of the stomach.' The fox ate the little bonnach. Then he went to the house of a gentleman, and he went to a loch, and he caught hold of a duck that was in if, and he ate that. He went up to a hill side, and he began to stroke his sides on the hill. 'Oh king! how finely the bullet would spank upon my belly just now.' Who was listening but a hunter. 'It will be tried upon thee directly,' said the hunter. 'Bad luck to the place that is here,' quoth the fox, 'in which a creature dares not say a word in fun that is not taken in earnest.' The hunter put a bullet in his gun, and he fired at him and killed him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Gingerbread Boy (Gingerbread),USA,"Editor's note: The author of the 'Gingerbread Boy,' in our pages for Little Folks, writes as follows: 'The 'Gingerbread Boy' is not strictly original. A servant girl from Maine told it to my children. It interested them so much that I thought it worth preserving. I asked where she found it, and she said an old lady told it to her in her childhood. So it may possibly have been in print, though I have never seen it.' -- The Letter-Box, p. 452.","St. Nicholas Magazine, vol. 2, no. 7 (May 1875), pp. 448-49.","Now you shall hear a story that somebody's great-great-grandmother told a little girl ever so many years ago: There was once a little old man and a little old woman, who lived in a little old house in the edge of a wood. They would have been a very happy old couple but for one thing -- they had no little child, and they wished for one very much. One day, when the little old woman was baking gingerbread, she cut a cake in the shape of a little boy, and put it into the oven. Presently she went to the oven to see if it was baked. As soon as the oven door was opened, the little gingerbread boy jumped out, and began to run away as fast as he could go. The little old woman called her husband, and they both ran after him. But they could not catch him. And soon the gingerbread boy came to a barn full of threshers. He called out to them as he went by, saying: I've run away from a little old woman, A little old man, And I can run away from you, I can! Then the barn full of threshers set out to run after him. But, though they ran fast, they could not catch him. And he ran on till he came to a field full of mowers. He called out to them: A barn full of threshers, Then the mowers began to run after him, but they couldn't catch him. And he ran on till he came to a cow. He called out to her: A field full of mowers, But, though the cow started at once, she couldn't catch him. And soon he came to a pig. He called out to the pig: A cow, But the pig ran, and couldn't catch him. And he ran till he came across a fox, and to him he called out: A cow and a pig, Then the fox set out to run. Now foxes can run very fast, and so the fox soon caught the gingerbread boy and began to eat him up. Presently the gingerbread boy said, 'Oh dear! I'm quarter gone!' And then, 'Oh, I'm half gone!' And soon, 'I'm three-quarters gone!' And at last, 'I'm all gone!' and never spoke again. Editor's note:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Pancake (Norway),Norway,NA,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Pannekaken, translated by H. L. Brækstad in Round the Yule Log: Norwegian Folk and Fairy Tales (London: Sampson Sow, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1881), pp. 62-67.","Once upon a time there was a good housewife, who had seven hungry children. One day she was busy frying pancakes for them, and this time she had used new milk in the making of them. One was lying in the pan, frizzling away -- ah! so beautiful and thick -- it was a pleasure to look at it. The children were standing round the fire, and the husband sat in the corner and looked on. 'Oh, give me a bit of pancake, mother, I am so hungry!' said one child. 'Ah, do! dear mother,' said the second. 'Ah, do! dear, good mother,' said the third. 'Ah, do! dear, good, kind mother,' said the fourth. 'Ah, do! dear, good, kind, nice mother,' said the fifth. 'Ah, do! dear, good, kind, nice, sweet mother,' said the sixth. 'Ah, do! dear, good, kind, nice, sweet, darling mother,' said the seventh. And thus they were all begging for pancakes, the one more prettily than the other, because they were so hungry, and such good little children. 'Yes, children dear, wait a bit until it turns itself,' she answered -- she ought to have said 'until I turn it' -- 'and then you shall all have pancakes, beautiful pancakes, made of new milk -- only look how thick and happy it lies there.' When the pancake heard this, it got frightened, and all of a sudden, it turned itself and wanted to get out of the pan, but it fell down in it again on the other side, and when it had been fried a little on that side too, it felt a little stronger in the back, jumped out on the floor, and rolled away, like a wheel, right through the door and down the road. 'Halloo!' cried the good wife, and away she ran after it, with the frying pan in one hand and the ladle in the other, as fast as she could, and the children behind her, while the husband came limping after, last of all. 'Halloo, won't you stop? Catch it, stop it. Halloo there!' they all screamed, the one louder than the other, trying to catch it on the run, but the pancake rolled and rolled, and before long, it was so far ahead, that they could not see it, for the pancake was much smarter on its legs than any of them. When it had rolled a time, it met a man. 'Good day, pancake!' said the man. 'Well met, Manny Panny,' said the pancake. 'Dear pancake,' said the man, 'don't roll so fast, but wait a bit and let me eat you.' 'When I have run away from Goody Poody and the husband and seven squalling children, I must run away from you too, Manny Panny,' said the pancake, and rolled on and on, until it met a hen. 'Good day, pancake,' said the hen. 'Good day, Henny Penny,' said the pancake. 'My dear pancake, don't roll so fast, but wait a bit and let me eat you,' said the hen. 'When I have run away from Goody Poody and the husband and seven squalling children, and from Manny Panny, I must run away from you too, Henny Penny,' said the pancake, and rolled on like a wheel down the road. Then it met a cock. 'Good day, pancake,' said the cock. 'Good day, Cocky Locky,' said the pancake. 'My dear pancake, don't roll so fast, but wait a bit and let me eat you,' said the cock. 'When I have run away from Goody Poody and the husband and seven squalling children, from Manny Panny, and Henny Penny, I must run away from you too, Cocky Locky,' said the pancake, and rolled and rolled on as fast as it could. When it had rolled a long time, it met a duck. 'Good day, pancake,' said the duck. 'Good day, Ducky Lucky,' said the pancake. 'My dear pancake, don't roll so fast, but wait a bit and let me eat you,' said the duck. 'When I have run away from Goody Poody and the husband and seven squalling children, from Manny Panny, and Henny Penny, and Cocky Locky, I must run away from you too, Ducky Lucky,' said the pancake, and with that it fell to rolling and rolling as fast as ever it could. When it had rolled a long, long time, it met a goose. Good day, pancake,' said the goose. 'Good day, Goosey Poosey,' said the pancake. 'My dear pancake, don't roll so fast, but wait a bit and let me eat you,' said the goose. 'When I have run away from Goody Poody and the husband and seven squalling children, from Manny Panny, and Henny Penny, and Cocky Locky, and Ducky Lucky, I must run away from you too, Goosey Poosey,' said the pancake, and away it rolled. So when it had rolled a long, very long time, it met a gander. Good day, pancake,' said the gander. 'Good day, Gander Pander,' said the pancake. 'My dear pancake, don't roll so fast, but wait a bit and let me eat you,' said the gander. 'When I have run away from Goody Poody and the husband and seven squalling children, from Manny Panny, and Henny Penny, and Cocky Locky, and Ducky Lucky, and Goosey Poosey, I must run away from you too, Gander Pander,' said the pancake, and rolled and rolled as fast as it could. When it had rolled on a long, long time, it met a pig. Good day, pancake,' said the pig. 'Good day, Piggy Wiggy,' said the pancake, and began to roll on faster than ever. Nay, wait a bit,' said the pig, 'you needn't be in such a hurry-scurry; we two can walk quietly together and keep each other company through the wood, because they say it isn't very safe there.' The pancake thought there might be something in that, and so they walked together through the wood; but when they had gone some distance, they came to a brook. The pig was so fat it wasn't much trouble for him to swim across, but the pancake couldn't get over. 'Sit on my snout,' said the pig, 'and I will ferry you over.' The pancake did so. 'Ouf, ouf,' grunted the pig, and swallowed the pancake in one gulp, and as the pancake couldn't get any farther -- well, you see we can't go on with this story any farther, either.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Runaway Pancake (Gander),Germany,"Gander's source: 'Oral, from Hanschke, Senior, a cottager and peddler in Ögeln.'","Karl Gander, 'Der fortgelaufene Eierkuchen,' Niederlausitzer Volkssagen, vornehmlich aus dem Stadt- und Landkreise Guben (Berlin: Deutsche Schriftsteller-Genossenschaft, 1894), no. 319, pp. 122-123.","Two women in Jetzschko were baking a pancake, and when it was almost done they began to quarrel, because each one wanted the whole thing. The one woman said, 'I get the pancake!' The other one replied, 'No, I want all of it!' Before they knew what was happening, the pancake suddenly grew feet, jumped out of the pan, and ran away. He came to a fox, who said to him, 'Pancake, pancake, where are you going?' The pancake answered, 'I ran away from two old women, and I shall run away from you as well!' Then he met a hare. It too shouted, 'Pancake, pancake, where are you going?' The pancake answered, 'I ran away from two old women, Reynard the Fox, and I shall run away from you as well. The pancake ran on until he came to some water. A ship full of people was floating on the water. They too cried out to him, 'Pancake, pancake, where are you going?' Again he said, 'I ran away from two old women, Reynard the Fox, Speedy the Hare, and I shall run away from you as well.' Then he came to a large pig. It too shouted to him, 'Pancake, pancake, where are you going?' 'Oh,' he said, 'I ran away from two old women, Reynard the Fox, Speedy the Hare, a ship full of people, and I shall run away from you as well.' The pig said, 'Pancake, I am hard of hearing. You'll have to say it into my ear!' So the pancake went up close, and bam! bam! the pig snatched him and ate him up, and with that the story is ended.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,"The Thick, Fat Pancake (Colshorn)",Germany,"The Colshorns' source: 'oral, from Salzdahlum.' This tale is also contained in Paul Zaunert, Deutsche Märchen seit Grimm, vol. 1 (Jena: Eugen Diederichs Verlag, 1922), pp. 176-77.","Carl and Theodor Colshorn, 'Vom dicken fetten Pfannekuchen,' Märchen und Sagen (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Rümpler, 1854), no. 57, pp. 168-169.","Once upon a time there were three old women who wanted a pancake to eat. The first one brought an egg, the second one milk, and the third one grease and flour. When the thick, fat pancake was done, it pulled itself up in the pan and ran away from the three old women. It ran and ran, steadfastly, steadfastly into the woods. There he came upon a little hare, who cried, 'Thick, fat pancake, stop! I want to eat you!' The pancake answered, 'I have run away from three old women. Can I not run away from Hoppity Hare as well?' And it ran steadfastly, steadfastly into the woods. Then a wolf came running toward him, and cried, 'Thick, fat pancake, stop! I want to eat you!' The pancake answered, 'I have run away from three old women and Hoppity Hare. Can I not run away from Waddly Wolf as well?' And it ran steadfastly, steadfastly into the woods. Then a goat came hopping by, and cried, 'Thick, fat pancake, stop! I want to eat you!' The pancake answered, 'I have run away from three old women, Hoppity Hare, and Waddly Wolf. Can I not run away from Longbeard Goat as well?' And it ran steadfastly, steadfastly into the woods. Then a horse came galloping by, and cried, 'Thick, fat pancake, stop! I want to eat you!' The pancake answered, 'I have run away from three old women, Hoppity Hare, Waddly Wolf, and Longbeard Goat. Can I not run away from Flatfoot Horse as well?' And it ran steadfastly, steadfastly into the woods. Then a sow came running up, and cried, 'Thick, fat pancake, stop! I want to eat you!' The pancake answered, 'I have run away from three old women, Hoppity Hare, Waddly Wolf, Longbeard Goat, and Flatfoot Horse. Can I not run away from Oink-Oink Sow as well?' And it ran steadfastly, steadfastly into the woods. Then three children came by. They had neither father nor mother, and they said, 'Dear pancake, stop! We have had nothing to eat the entire day!' So the thick, fat pancake jumped into the children's basket and let them eat it up.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Wee Bannock (Chambers2),Scotland,NA,"Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. and R. Chambers, 1870), pp. 85-86.","Quoth the auld man to the auld wife: 'Rise, and bake me a bannock.' So she rase and bakit a bannock, and set it afore the greeshoch to harden. Quoth the auld wife to the auld man: 'Rise and turn the bannock.' 'Na, na,' quoth the bannock, 'I'll turn mysel'.' And it turned round, and whirl't out at the door. And after it they ran, and the tane flang at it a pot, and the t'other a pan; but baith missed it . And it ran, and it ran, till it came to twa well-washers. 'Welcome, welcome, wee bannockie,' quo' they; 'where came thou fra?' And they ran after't, to daud it wi' wat claes. But it ran, and it ran, till it came to twa barn-threshers. 'Welcome, welcome, wee bannockie,' quo' they; 'where came thou frae?' And they ran after't wi' their flails. Thus the story goes on through a series of adventures, which are perhaps sufficiently indicated by the answer of the bannock to Tod Lowrie at last: But the tod snappit it a' up at ae mouthful, and that was an end o' the wee bannock.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Wee Bannock (Chambers3),Scotland,NA,"Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. and R. Chambers, 1870), pp. 86-87.","There was a wife bakin' bannocks, and there was a man cam and wanted ane o' them. And he said to the wife: 'Yer bannas is burnin': come awa' and I'1l turn them.' And the wife said: 'Na, I'll turn them;' and he said: 'Na, I'll turn them;' and she said: 'Na, I'1l turn them.' And as they were threepin', ane o' the bannas got up and ran awa', and they couldna catch't. And it ran and ran or it cam to a sheep, and the sheep wantit it, and it said to the sheep: Sae it ran and ran, and beat the sheep. And it cam to a goat, and it said to the goat: And it ran and ran, and beat the goat. And it cam to a fox, and it said to the fox: And the fox said: 'Get on my back and I'll carry ye;' and the banna said: 'Na, I'll rin mysel'.' And the fox said: 'Na, get on my back, and I'll carry ye o'er the burn.' Sae the banna got on its back, and the fox turned round its head and took a grip o't. And the banna cried: 'Oh, ye're nippin's, ye're nippin's, ye're nippin's.' And the fox said: 'Na, I'm just clawin' mysel'.' And it took anither grip, and the banna cried: 'Oh, ye're nippin's, ye're nippin's, ye're nippin's.' And the fox nippit it a' awa' but a wee bit, and it fell into the burn, and that was the end o' the banna.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Wee Bunnock (Chambers1),Scotland,"Chambers' source: 'From the manuscript of an elderly individual, who spent his early years in the parish of Symington, in Ayrshire. It was one of a great store of similar legends possessed by his grandmother, and which she related, upon occasion, for the gratification of himself and other youngsters, as she sat spinning by the fireside, with these youngsters clustered around her. This venerable person was bor n in the year 1704, and died in 1789.' A bunnock (usually spelled bannock) is a small loaf of flat bread.","Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. and R. Chambers, 1870), pp. 82-85.","'Grannie, grannie, come tell us the story o' the wee bunnock.' 'Hout, bairns, ye've heard it a hunner times afore. I needna tell it owre again.' 'Ah, but, grannie, it's sic a fine ane. Ye maun tell't. Just ance.' 'Weel, weel, bairns, if ye'll a' promise to be guid, I'll tell ye't again. But I'll tell you a bonny tale about a guid aitmeal bunnock. There lived an auld man and an auld wife at the side o' a burn. They had twa kye, five hens and a cock, a cat and twa kittlins. The auld man lookit after the kye, and the auld wife span on the tow-rock. The kittlins aft grippit at the auld wife's spindle, as it tussled owre the hearth-stane. 'Sho, sho,' she wad say, 'gae wa';' and so it tussled about. Ae day, after parritch time, she thought she wad hae a bunnock. Sae she bakit twa aitmeal bunnocks, and set them to to the fire to harden. After a while, the auld man came in, and sat down aside the fire, and takes ane o' the bunnocks, and snappit it through the middle. When the tither ane sees this, it rins aff as fast as it could, and the auld wife after't, wi' the spindle in the tae hand and the tow-rock in the tither. But the wee bunnock wan awa', and out o' sight, and ran till it came to a guid muckle thack house, and ben it ran boldly to the fireside; and there were three tailors sitting on a muckle table. When they saw the wee bunnock come ben, they jumpit up, and gat in ahint the goodwife, that was cardin' tow ayont the fire. 'Hout,' quo' she, 'be na fleyt; it's but a wee bunnock. Grip it, and I'll gie ye a soup milk till 't.' Up she gets wi' the tow-cards, and the tailor wi' the goose, and the twa prentices, the ane wi' the muckle shears, and the tither wi' the lawbrod; but it jinkit them, and ran round about the fire; and ane o' the prentices, thinking to snap it wi' the shears, fell i' the ase-pit. The tailor cuist the goose, and the goodwife the tow-cards; but a' wadna do. The bunnock wan awa', and ran till it came to a wee house at the roadside; and in it rins, and there was a weaver sittin' on the loom, and the wife winnin' a clue o' yarn. 'Tibby,' quo' he, 'what's tat?' 'Oh,' quo' she, 'it's a wee bunnock.' 'It's weel come,' quo' he, 'for our sowens were but thin the day. Grip it, my woman; grip it.' 'Ay,' quo' she; 'what recks! That's a clever bunnock. Kep, Willie; kep, man.' 'Hout,' quo' Willie, 'cast the clue at it.' But the bunnock whipit round about, and but the floor, and aff it gaed, and owre the knowe, like a new-tarred sheep or a daft yell cow. And forrit it runs to the niest house, and ben to the fireside; and there was the goodwife kirnin'. 'Come awa', wee bunnock,' quo' she; 'I'se hae ream and bread the day.' But the wee bunnock whipit round about the kirn, and the wife after't, and i' the hurry she had near-hand coupit the kirn. And afore she got it set right again, the wee bunnock was aff, and down the brae to the mill; and in it ran. The miller was siftin' meal i' the trough; but, looking up: ' Ay,' quo' he, 'it's a sign o' plenty when ye're rinnin' about, and naebody to look after ye. But I like a bunnock and cheese. Come your wa's ben, and I'll gie ye a night's quarters.' But the bunnock wadna trust itsel' wi' the miller and his cheese. Sae it turned and ran its wa's out; but the miller didna fash his head wi't. So it toddled awa', and ran till it came to the smithy; and in it rins, and up to the studdy. The smith was making horse-nails. Quo' he: 'I like a bicker o' guid yill and a weel-toastit bunnock. Come your wa's in by here.' But the bunnock was frightened when it heard about the yill, and turned and aff as hard as it could, and the smith after't, and cuist the hammer. But it whirlt awa', and out o' sight in a crack, and ran till it came to a farm-house wi' a guid muckle peat-stack at the end o't. Ben it rins to the fireside. The goodman was clovin' lint, and the goodwife hecklin'. 'O Janet,' quo' he, 'there's a wee bunnock; I'se hae the hauf o't.' 'Weel, John, I'se hae the tither hauf. Hit it owre the back wi' the clove.' But the bunnock playt jink-about. 'Hout, tout,' quo' the wife, and gart the heckle flee at it. But it was owre clever for her. And aff and up the burn it ran to the niest house, and whirlt its wa's ben to the fireside. The goodwife was stirrin' the sowens, and the goodman plettin' sprit-binnings for the kye. 'Ho, Jock,' quo' the goodwife, 'come here. Thou's aye crying about a wee bunnock. Here's ane. Come in, haste ye, and I'1l help thee to grip it.' 'Ay, mither, whaur is't ?' 'See there. Rin owre o' that side.' But the bunnock ran in ahint the goodman's chair. Jock fell amang the sprits. The goodman cuist a binning, and the goodwife the spurtle. But it was owre clever for Jock and her baith. It was aff and out o' sight in a crack, and through among the whins, and down the road to the niest house, and in, and ben to the fireside. The folk were just sittin' down to their sowens, and the goodwife scartin' the pat. 'Losh,' quo' she, 'there's a wee bunnock come in to warm itsel' at our fireside.' 'Steek the door,' quo' the goodman, 'and we'll try to get a grip o't.' When the bunnock heard that, it ran but the house, and they after't wi' their spunes, and the goodman cuist his bunnat. But it whirlt awa', and ran, and better ran, till it came to another house; and when it gaed ben, the folk were just gaun to their beds. The goodman was castin' aff his breeks, and the goodwife rakin' the fire. 'What's tat?' quo' he. 'O,' quo' she, 'it's a wee bunnock.' Quo' he, 'I could eat the hauf o't, for a' the brose I hae suppit.' 'Grip it,' quo' the wife, ' and I'll hae a bit too.' 'Cast your breaks at it -- kep -- kep!' The goodman cuist the breeks, and had near-hand smoor't it . But it warsl't out, and ran, and the goodman after't, wanting the breeks; and there was a clean chase owre the craft park, and up the wunyerd, and in amang the whins; and the goodman lost it, and had to come his wa's trottin' hame hauf-nakit. But now it was grown dark, and the wee bunnock couldna see; but it gaed into the side o' a muckle whin bush, and into a tod's hole. The tod had gotten nae meat for twa days. 'O welcome, welcome,' quo' the tod, and snappit it in twa i' the middle. And that was the end o' the wee bunnock. Now, be ye lords or commoners, Ye needna laugh nor sneer, For ye'll be a' i' the tod's hole In less than a hunner year. At the conclusion, Grannie would look round upon her little audience, and add the following, by way of moral: 'Now, weans, an ye live to grow muckle, be na owre lifted up about onything, nor owre sair cuisten down; for ye see the folk were a' cheated, and the puir tod got the bunnock.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2025,The Wonderful Cake (Kennedy),Ireland,NA,"Patrick Kennedy, The Fireside Stories of Ireland (Dublin: M'Glashan and Gill, 1870), pp. 19-20.","A mouse, a rat, and a little red hen once lived together in the same cabin, and one day the little red hen said, 'Let us bake a cake and have a feast.' 'Let us,' says the mouse; and 'Let us,' says the rat. 'Who'll go get the wheat ground?' says the hen. 'I won't,' says the mouse; 'I won't,' says the rat; 'I'll go myself,' says the little red hen. 'Who'll make the cake? 'I won't,' says the mouse; 'I won't,' says the rat; 'I will myself,' says the little red hen. 'Who'll eat the cake?' 'I will,' says the mouse; 'I will,' says the rat; 'Dickens a bit you shall,' says the little red hen. Well, while the hen was putting over her hand to it, magh go brath with it out of the door, and after it with the three housekeepers. When it was running away, it went by a barn full of thrashers, and they asked it where it was running. 'Oh,' says it, 'I'm running away from the mouse, the rat, and the little red hen, and from you too if I can.' So they piked away after it with their flails, and it run and it run till it came to a ditch full of ditchers, and they asked it where it was running. 'Oh, I'm running away from the mouse, the rat, and the little red hen, and from a barn full of thrashers, and from you too if I can.' Well they all ran after it along with the rest till it came to a well full of washers, and they asked the same question, and it returned the same answer, and after it they went. At last it came to a ford where it met with a fox, who asked where it was running. 'Oh, I'm running away from the mouse, the rat, and the little red hen, from a barn full of thrashers, a ditch full of ditchers, a well full of washers, a crumply-horned cow, a saddled-backed sow, and from you too if I can.' 'But you can't cross the ford,' says the fox. 'And can't you carry me over?' says the cake. 'What'll you give me?' says the fox. 'A kiss at Christmas, and an egg at Easter,' says the cake. 'Very well,' says the fox.' Up with you.' So he sat on his currabingo with his nose in the air, and the cake got up by his tail till it sat on his crupper. 'Now over with you,' says the cake. 'You're not high enough.' Then it scrambled up on his shoulder. 'Up higher still,' says he, 'you wouldn't be safe there.' 'Am I right now ?' says the cake, when it was on his head. 'Not quite,' says he; 'you'll be safer on the ridge pole of my nose.' 'Well,' says the cake, 'I think I can go no further.' 'Oh, yes,' says he, and he shot it up in the air, caught it in his mouth, and sent it down the red lane.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2030,Moorachug and Meenachug,Scotland,"Campbell's sources: 'From Ann Darroch, James Wilson, Hector MacLean, Islay, and many others in other parts of the Highlands.' Notes by Campbell (pp. 160-61): This is the best known of all Gaelic tales. It is the infant ladder to learning a chain of cause and effect, and fully as sensible as any of its kind. It used to be commonly taught to children of five or six years of age, and repeated by school boys, and it is still remembered by grown-up people in all parts of the highlands. There are few variations. In one version the crow was a little bird ; in another a gull was introduced, which advised the use of sand to stuff the riddle. The tale has sixteen steps, four of which contain double ideas. The English 'House that Jack Built' has eleven. The Scotch 'Old Woman with the Silver Penny' has twelve. The Norsk 'Cock and Hen A-nutting' twelve, ten of which are double. The German story in Grimm has five or six, all single ideas. All these are different. In Uist the actors are Biorachan mor agus Biorchan Beag; in Sutherland, Morachan agus Mionachan. The speech of the Hoodie is always a very close imitation of his note. In another version she says, 'Cuir criadh righin ruadh Ris-Put tough red clay to it;' and the gull said, ' Cuir Poll Bog ris (Put soft mud to it),' which is rather the speech of some other bird. There are several rare words in this ; for example, gadhar, a dog. Link to the Gaelic text of this story: Murchadh a's Mionachag.","John Francis Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands: Orally Collected, vol. 1 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1860), pp. 157-60.","Moorachug and Meenachug went to gather fruit, and as Moorachug would gather Meenachug would eat. Moorachug went to seek a rod to lay on Meenachaig, and she eating his share of fruit. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai ?' said the rod. ''T is my own news, that I am seeking a rod to lay on Meenachug, and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me until thou gettest an axe that will reap me.' He reached the axe. 'What's thy news to-day, oh Voorachai?' ''T is my own news that I am seeking an axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachug -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me until thou gettest a stone to smooth me.' He reached a stone. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai?' said the stone. ''Tis my own news that I am seeking stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me,' said the stone, 'till thou gettest water will wet me.' He reached the water. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai?' said the water. ''Tis my own news that I am seeking -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me,' said the water, 'till thou gettest a deer to swim me.' He reached the deer. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai ?' said the deer. ''Tis my own news, that I am seeking -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meeuachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me,' said the deer, ' until thou gettest a dog to run me.' He reached the dog. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai?' said the dog. ''Tis my own news that I am seeking -- dog to run deer -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me,' said the dog, 'till thou gettest butter to be rubbed to my feet.' He reached the butter. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai?' said the butter. ''T is my own news, that I am seeking -- butter to feet of dog -- dog to run deer -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me,' said the butter, 'till thou gettest a mouse will scrape me.' He reached the mouse. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai?' said the mouse. ''T is my own news, that I am seeking -- mouse to scrape butter -- butter to feet of dog -- dog to run deer -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me,' said the mouse, 'till thou gettest a cat to hunt me.' He reached the cat. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai?' said the cat. ''Tis my own news, that I am seeking -- cat to hunt mouse -- mouse to scrape butter -- butter to feet of dog -- dog to run deer -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get me,' said the cat, 'until thou gettest milk for me.' He reached the cow. 'What's thy news today, oh! Voorachai?' said the cow. ''Tis my own news, that I am seeking -- milk for the cat -- cat to hunt mouse -- mouse to scrape butter -- butter to feet of dog -- dog to run deer -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get milk from me till thou gettest a whisp from the barn gillie.' He reached the barn gillie. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai?' said the barn gillie. ''T is my own news, that I am seeking -- a whisp for the cow -- a cow will shed milk for the cat -- cat to hunt mouse -- mouse to scrape butter -- butter to feet of dog -- dog to run deer -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenachaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get a whisp from me,' said the barn gillie, 'till thou gettest a bonnach for me from the kneading wife.' He reached the kneading wife. 'What's thy news today, oh Voorachai?' said the kneading wife. ''Tis my own news, that I am seeking -- bonnach to the barn gillie -- whisp to the cow from the barn gillie -- milk from the cow to the cat -- cat will hunt mouse -- mouse will scrape butter -- butter to feet of dog -- dog to run deer -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenaehaig -- and she eating my share of fruit.' 'Thou wilt not get bonnach from me till thou bringest in water will knead it.' 'How will I bring in the water?' 'There is no vessel but that sowen's sieve.' Moorachug took with him the sowen's sieve. He reached the water, and every drop he would put in the sowen's sieve it would go through. A hoodie came over his head, and she cried, 'Gawr-rag, gawr-rag (little silly, little silly).' 'Thou art right, oh hoodie,' said Moorachug. 'Crèah rooah s' còinneach, crèah rooah s' còinneach,' said the hoodie. Moorachug set crèah rooah s' còinneach (brown clay and moss) to it, and he brought in the water to the kneading wife -- and he got bonnach from the kneading wife to barn gillie -- whisp from the barn gillie to the cow -- milk from the cow to the cat -- cat to hunt mouse -- mouse to scrape butter -- butter to feet of dog -- dog to run deer -- deer to swim water -- water to stone -- stone to smooth axe -- axe to reap rod -- rod to lay on Meenaehaig -- and she eating his share of fruit. And when Moorachug returned Meenachag had just BURST. Notes by Campbell (pp. 160-61): This is the best known of all Gaelic tales. It is the infant ladder to learning a chain of cause and effect, and fully as sensible as any of its kind. It used to be commonly taught to children of five or six years of age, and repeated by school boys, and it is still remembered by grown-up people in all parts of the highlands. There are few variations. In one version the crow was a little bird ; in another a gull was introduced, which advised the use of sand to stuff the riddle. The tale has sixteen steps, four of which contain double ideas. The English 'House that Jack Built' has eleven. The Scotch 'Old Woman with the Silver Penny' has twelve. The Norsk 'Cock and Hen A-nutting' twelve, ten of which are double. The German story in Grimm has five or six, all single ideas. All these are different. In Uist the actors are Biorachan mor agus Biorchan Beag; in Sutherland, Morachan agus Mionachan. The speech of the Hoodie is always a very close imitation of his note. In another version she says, 'Cuir criadh righin ruadh Ris-Put tough red clay to it;' and the gull said, ' Cuir Poll Bog ris (Put soft mud to it),' which is rather the speech of some other bird. There are several rare words in this ; for example, gadhar, a dog.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2030,Nanny Who Wouldn't Go Home to Supper,Norway,"The text of this tale in Norwegian: Hårslå, som aldri ville hjem gå.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated from the Norwegian by H. L. Brækstad (London: David Nutt, 1897), pp. 246-52.","There was once upon a time a woman who had a son and a goat. The son was called Espen and the goat they called Nanny. But they were not good friends, and did not get on together, for the goat was perverse and wayward, as goats will be, and she would never go home at the right time for her supper. So it happened one evening that Espen went out to fetch her home, and when he had been looking for her a while he saw Nanny high, high up on a crag: 'My dear Nanny, you must not stay any longer up there; you must come home now, it is just supper time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I shan't,' said Nanny, 'not before I have finished the grass on this tussock, and that tussock and this and that tussock.' 'Then I'll go and tell mother,' said the lad. 'That you may, and then I shall be left to eat in peace,' said Nanny. So Espen went and told his mother. 'Go to the fox and ask him to bite Nanny,' said his mother. The lad went to the fox. 'My dear fox, bite Nanny, for Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry, and I want my supper,' said Espen. 'No, I don't want to spoil my snout on pig's bristles and goat's beard,' said the fox. So the lad went and told his mother. 'Well, go to the wolf,' said his mother. The lad went to the wolf: 'My dear wolf, tear the fox, for the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry, and I want my supper.' 'No,' said the wolf, 'I won't wear out my paws and teeth on a skinny fox.' 'Well, go to the bear and ask him to slay the wolf,' said the mother. The lad went to the bear. 'My dear bear, slay the wolf, for the wolf won't tear the fox, and the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, that I won't,' said the bear; 'I don't want to wear out my claws for that.' 'Well, go to the Finn and ask him to shoot the bear.' The lad went to the Finn. 'My dear Finn, shoot the bear, for the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the Finn; 'I am not going to shoot away my bullets for that.' 'Well go to the fir,' said his mother, 'and ask it to crush the Finn.' The lad went to the fir tree: 'My dear fir, crush the Finn, for the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the fir, 'I am not going to break my boughs for that.' 'Well, go to the fire,' said his mother, 'and ask it to burn the fir.' The lad went to the fire: 'My dear fire, burn the fir, for the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the fire, 'I am not going to burn myself out for that.' 'Well, go to the water, and ask it to quench the fire,' she said. The lad went to the water. 'My dear water, quench the fire, for the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the water, 'I am not going to waste myself for that.' 'Well, go to the ox,' said she, 'and ask him to drink up the water.' The lad went to the ox: 'My dear ox, drink up the water, for the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the ox. 'I'm not going to burst myself for that.' 'Well, go to the yoke,' said she, 'and ask it to throttle the ox.' The lad went to the yoke. 'My dear yoke, throttle the ox, for the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the yoke. 'I'm not going to break myself in two for that.' 'Well, go to the axe,' said she, 'and tell it to split the yoke.' The lad went to the axe. 'My dear axe, split the yoke, for the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the axe. 'I am not going to blunt my edge for that.' 'Well, go to the smith,' said she, 'and ask him to hammer the axe.' The lad went to the smith. 'My dear smith! hammer the axe, for the axe won't split the yoke, the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the smith. 'I'll not burn my coals and wear out my sledge-hammers for that.' 'Well, go to the rope,' said she, 'and ask it to hang the smith.' The lad went to the rope. 'My dear rope, hang the smith, for the smith won't hammer the axe, the axe won't split the yoke, the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the rope. 'I'm not going to break in two for that.' 'Well, go to the mouse,' said she, 'and ask her to gnaw the rope.' The lad went to the mouse. 'My dear mouse, gnaw the rope, for the rope won't hang the smith, the smith won't hammer the axe, the axe won't split the yoke, the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'No, I will not,' said the mouse. 'I'm not going to wear out my teeth for that.' 'Well, go to the cat,' said she, 'and ask her to catch the mouse.' The lad went to the cat. 'My dear cat, catch the mouse, for the mouse won't gnaw the rope, the rope won't hang the smith, the smith won't hammer the axe, the axe won't split the yoke, the yoke won't throttle the ox, the ox won't drink the water, the water won't quench the fire, the fire won't burn the fir, the fir won't crush the Finn, the Finn won't shoot the bear, the bear won't slay the wolf, the wolf won't tear the fox, the fox won't bite Nanny, and Nanny won't come home in time. I am so hungry and want my supper.' 'Yes, but give me a drop of milk for my kittens, and then' said the cat. Yes, that she should have. So the cat caught the mouse, and the mouse gnawed the rope, and the rope hanged the smith, and the smith hammered the axe, and the axe split the yoke, and the yoke throttled the ox, and the ox drank the water, and the water quenched the fire, and the fire burned the fir, and the fir crushed the Finn, and the Finn shot the bear, and the bear slew the wolf, and the wolf tore the fox, and the fox bit Nanny, and Nanny took to her heels, scampered home, and ran against the barn wall and broke one of her legs. 'M-a-h-a-h!' bleated the goat. There she lay, and if she isn't dead she is still limping about on three legs. But Espen said it served her right, because she would not come home in time for supper that day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2030,The Old Woman and Her Pig,England,"An earlier edition: James Orchard Halliwell, The Nursery Rhymes of England: Collected Chiefly from Oral Tradition (London: John Russell Smith, 1846), pp. 182-84.","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), no. 4, pp. 20-23. Jacobs' source: 'Halliwell's Nursery Rhymes and Tales, 114.'","An old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked sixpence. 'What,' said she, 'shall I do with this little sixpence? I will go to market, and buy a little pig.' As she was coming home, she came to a stile. But the piggy wouldn't go over the stile. She went a little further, and she met a dog. So she said to him, 'Dog! Dog! Bite pig. Piggy won't go over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the dog wouldn't. She went a little further, and she met a stick. So she said, 'Stick! Stick! Beat dog! Dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the stick wouldn't. She went a little further, and she met a fire. So she said, 'Fire! Fire! Burn stick. Stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the fire wouldn't. She went a little further, and she met some water. So she said, 'Water! Water! Quench fire. Fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the water wouldn't. She went a little further, and she met an ox. So she said, 'Ox! Ox! Drink water. Water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the ox wouldn't. She went a little further and she met a butcher. So she said, 'Butcher! Butcher! Kill ox. Ox won't drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the butcher wouldn't. She went a little further, and she met a rope. So she said, 'Rope! Rope! Hang butcher. Butcher won't kill ox; ox won't drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the rope wouldn't. She went a little further, and she met a rat. So she said, 'Rat! Rat! Gnaw rope. Rope won't hang butcher, butcher won't kill ox; ox won't drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the rat wouldn't. She went a little further, and she met a cat. So she said, 'Cat! Cat! Kill rat. Rat won't gnaw rope; rope won't hang butcher; butcher won't kill ox; ox won't drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home tonight.' But the cat said to her, 'If you will go to yonder cow, and fetch me a saucer of milk, I will kill the rat.' So away went the old woman to the cow. But the cow said to her, 'If you will go to yonder haystack, and fetch me a handful of hay, I'll give you the milk.' So away went the old woman to the hay-stack; and she brought the hay to the cow. As soon as the cow had eaten the hay, she gave the old woman the milk; and away she went with it in a saucer to the cat. As soon as the cat had lapped up the milk, the cat began to kill the rat; the rat began to gnaw the rope; the rope began to hang the butcher; the butcher began to kill the ox; the ox began to drink the water; the water began to quench the fire; the fire began to burn the stick; the stick began to beat the dog; the dog began to bite the pig; the little pig in a fright jumped over the stile; and so the old woman got home that night.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2030,The Wife and Her Bush of Berries,Scotland,NA,"Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. and R. Chambers, 1870), pp. 57-59. Preface dated November 24, 1841.","Lang syne, when geese were swine, And turkeys chewed tobacco, And birds biggit their nests in auld mens's beards, And mowdies del't potawtoes -- There was a wife that lived 'n a wee house by hersel', and as she was soopin' the house one day, she fand twall pennies. So she thought to hersel' what she wad do wi' her twall pennies, and at last she thought she couldna do better than gang wi't to the market and buy a kid. Sae she gaed to the market and coffed a fine kid. And as she was gaun hame, she spied a bonny buss o' bernies growin' beside a brig. And she says to the kid, 'Kid, kid, keep my house till I pu' my bonny, bonny buss o' berries.' ''Deed no,' says the kid, 'I'll no keep your house till ye pu' your bonny buss o' berries.' Then the wife gaed to the dog, and said, 'Dog, dog, bite kid. Kid winna keep my house till I pu' my bonny buss o' berries.' ''Deed,' says the dog, 'I'll no bite the kid, for the kid never did me ony ill.' Then the wife gaed to a staff and said, 'Staff, staff, strike dog; for dog winna bite kid, and kid winna keep my house,' etc. ''Deed,' says the staff, 'I winna strike the dog, for the dog never did me ony ill.' Then the wife gaed to the fire, and said, 'Fire, fire, burn staff. Staff winna strike dog; dog winna bite kid,' etc. ''Deed,' says the fire, 'I winna burn the staff, for the staff never did me ony ill.' Wife: 'Water, water, slocken fire. Fire winna,' etc. ''Deed,' says the water, 'I winna slocken fire, for fire never did me ony ill.' Wife: 'Ox, ox, drink water. Water winna slocken fire,' etc. ''Deed, says the ox, 'I winna drink water, for water never did me ony ill.' Wife: 'Ax, ax, fell ox. Ox winna drink water,' etc. ''Deed , says the ax, 'I winna fell ox, for ox never did me ony ill.' Wife: 'Smith, smith, smooth ax. Ax winna,' etc. ''Deed,' says the smith, 'I winna smooth ax, for ax never did me ony ill.' Wife: 'Rope, rope, hang smith. Smith winna smooth ax,' etc. ''Deed,' says the rope, 'I winna hang smith, for smith never did me ony ill.' Wife: 'Mouse, mouse, cut rope. Rope winna hang smith,' etc. ''Deed,' says the mouse, 'I winna cut rope, for rope never did me ony ill.' Wife: 'Cat, cat, kill mouse. Mouse winna cut rope; rope winna hang smith; smith winna smooth ax; ax winna fell ox; ox winna drink water; water winna slocken fire; fire winna burn staff; staff winna strike dog; dog winna bite kid; kid winna keep my house till I pu' my bonny buss o' berries.' ''Deed, says the cat, 'I winna kill the mouse, for the mouse never did me ony ill.' Wife: 'Do't, and I'll gie ye milk and bread.' Wi' that the cat to the mouse, and the mouse to the rope, and the rope to the smith, and the smith to the ax, and the ax to the ox, and the ox to the water, and the water to the fire, and the fire to the staff, and the staff to the dog, and the dog to the kid, and the kid keepit the wife's house, till she pu'd her bonny buss o' berries.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2030,The Wifie an Her Kidie,Scotland,"Gregor's source: Mr. James Moir, M.A., rector of the grammar school, Aberdeen.","Walter Gregor, 'A Folk-Tale from Aberdeenshire,' The Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 2, no. 9 (September 1884), pp. 277-78.","'Niver a lenth,' said the kid, 'will I rin hame, leuk the hoose, an come again; ye can dee't yersel.' An the wifie said to the dog, 'Dog, dog, bite kid; kid winna rin hame, leuk the hoose, an come again till I gedder a puckle sticks to my fair firie.' 'Niver a lenth,' said the dog, 'will I bite the kid; the kid niver did me ony ill.' 'Stick, stick, ding dog. Dog winna bite kid, kid winna rin hame,' etc. 'Niver a lenth,' said the stick, 'will I ding dog; dog niver did me ony ill.' 'Fire, fire, burn stick; stick winna ding dog, dog winna bite kid, kid winna rin,' etc. 'Niver a lenth,' said the fire, 'will I burn the stick; the stick niver did me ony ill.' 'Watter, watter, quench fire; fire winna burn stick, stick winna ding dog,' etc. 'Niver a lenth,' said the watter, 'will I quench fire; fire niver did me ony ill.' 'Ox, ox, drink watter; watter winna quench fire; fire winna burn stick,' etc. 'Niver a lenth,' said the ox, 'the watter niver did me ony ill.' 'Aix, aix, kill ox; ox winna drink watter; watter winna quench fire; fire,' etc. 'Niver a lenth,' said the aix, 'the ox niver did me ony ill.' 'Smith, smith, smee aix; aix winna kill ox; ox,' etc. 'Niver a lenth,' said the smith, 'the aix niver did me ony ill.' 'Rope, rope, hang smith; smith winna smee aix; aix winna,' etc. 'Niver a lenth,' said the rope, 'the smith niver did me ony ill.' 'Moosie, moosie, gnaw rope; rope winna hang smith; smith,' etc. Noo, a' this time the cattie wiz sittin i' the ingle-neuk singin a sang till hersel. So the wifie said, 'Bonnie cattie, gin ye wud tak moosie, I wud gie you some fine milk an breed t' yersel.' So the cattie t' the moosie, an the moosie t' the rope, an the rope t' the smith, an the smith t' the aix, an the aix t' the ox, and the ox t' the watter, an the watter t' the fire, an the fire t' the stick, an the stick t' the dog, an the dog t' the kid, an the kid ran hame, leukit the hoose, an cam again till the wifie gedderit a puckle sticks till her fair firie. Another version of the ending is: An the kiddie ran ower the brig o' the waulk-mill an broke her neck.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2031C,A Bridegroom for Miss Mole (Korea),Korea,NA,"William Elliot Griffis, The Unmannerly Tiger and Other Korean Tales (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company, 1911), pp. 50-55.","By the river Kingin stands the great stone image, or Miryek, that was cut out of the solid rock ages ago. Its base lies far beneath the ground and around its granite cap, many feet square, the storm clouds gather and play as they roll down the mountain. Down under the earth, near this mighty colossus, lived a soft-furred mole and his wife. One day a daughter was born to them. It was the most wonderful mole baby that ever was known. The father was so proud of his lovely offspring that he determined to marry her only to the grandest thing in the whole universe. Nothing else would satisfy his pride in the beautiful creature he called his own. Father Mole sought long and hard to find out where and what, in all nature, was considered the most wonderful. He called in his neighbors and talked over the matter with them. Then he visited the king of the moles and asked the wise ones in his court to decide for him. One and all agreed that the Great Blue Sky was above everything else in glory and greatness. So up to the Sky the Mole Father went and offered his daughter to be the bride of the Great Blue, telling how, with his vast azure robe, the Sky had the reputation, both on the earth and under it, of being the greatest thing in the universe. But, much to the Mole Father's surprise, the Sky declined. 'No, I am not the greatest. I must refer you to the Sun. He controls me, for he can make it day or night as he pleases. Only when he rises, can I wear my bright colors. When he goes down, darkness covers the world, and men do not see me at all, but the stars instead. Better take your charming daughter to him.' So to the Sun went Mr. Mole and though afraid to look directly into his face, he made his plea. He would have the Sun marry his attractive daughter. But the mighty luminary, that usually seemed so fierce, dazzling men's eyesight and able to burn up the very grass of the field, seemed suddenly very modest. Instead of accepting at once the offer, the Sun said to the father, 'Alas! I am not master. The Cloud is greater than I, for he is able to cover me up and make me invisible for days and weeks. I am not as powerful as you think me to be. Let me advise you to offer your daughter to the Cloud.' Surprised at this, the Mole Father looked quite disappointed. Now he was in doubt as to what time he had best propose to the Cloud, -- when it was silvery white and glistening in a summer afternoon, or when it was black and threatening a tempest. However, his ambition to get for his daughter the mightiest possible bridegroom prompted him to wait until the lightnings flashed and the thunder rolled. Then, appearing before the terrible dark Cloud that shot out fire, he told of the charms of his wonderful daughter and offered her as bride. 'And why do you come to me?' asked the Cloud, its face inky black with the wrath of a storm and its eyes red with the fires of lightning. 'Because you are not only the greatest thing in the universe, but you have proved it by your terrible power,' replied the Father Mole. At this the Cloud ceased its rolling, stopped its fire and thunder and almost laughed. 'So far from being the greatest thing in the world, I am not even my own master. See already how the Wind is driving me. Soon I shall be invisible, dissolved in air. Let me commend you to the Wind. The Master of the Cloud will make a grand son-in-law.' Thereupon Papa Mole waited until the Wind calmed down, after blowing away the clouds. Then telling of his daughter's accomplishments and loveliness, he made proffer of his only child as bride to the Wind. But the Wind was not half so proud as the Mole Father had expected to find him. Very modest, almost bashful seemed the Wind, as he confessed that before Miryek, the colossal stone image, his power was naught. 'Why, I smite that Great Stone Face and its eyes do not even blink. I roar in his ears, but he minds it not. I try to make him sneeze, but he will not. Smite him as I may, he still stands unmoved and smiling. Alas, no. I am not the grandest thing in the universe, while Miryek stands. Go to him. He alone is worthy to marry your daughter.' By this time the Mole Father was not only footsore and weary, but much discouraged also. Evidently all appreciated his shining daughter; but would he be able, after all, to get her a worthy husband? He rested himself a while and then proceeded to Miryek, the colossus of granite as large as a lighthouse, its head far up in the air, but with ears ready to hear. The Mole Father squeaked out compliments to the image as being by common confession the greatest thing on earth. He presented his request for a son-in-law and then in detail mentioned the accomplishments of his daughter, sounding her praises at great length. Indeed, he almost ruined his case by talking so long. With stony patience, Miryek listened to the proud father with a twinkle in his white granite eyes. When his lips moved, he was heard to say, 'Fond Parent, what you say is true. I am great. I care not for the sky day or night, for I remain the same in daylight and darkness. I fear not the sun, that cannot melt me, nor the frost that is not able to make me crumble. Cold or hot, in summer or in winter time, I remain unchanged. The clouds come and go, but they cannot move me. Their fire and noise, lightning and thunder, I fear not. Yes, I am great.' Then the stone lips closed again. 'You will make, then, a good bridegroom for my daughter? You will marry her, I understand?' asked the proud father as his hopes began to rise, though he was still doubtful. 'I would gladly do so, if I were greatest. But I am not,' said Miryek. 'Down under my feet is the Mole. He digs with his shovel-like hands and makes burrows day and night. His might I cannot resist. Soon he shall undermine my base and I shall topple down and lie like common stone along the earth. Yes I by universal confession, the Mole is the greatest thing in the universe and to him I yield. Better marry your daughter to him.' So after all his journeying, the lovely daughter's father sought no further. Advised on all sides, and opinion being unanimous, he found out that the Mole was the greatest thing in the universe. His daughter's bridegroom was found at home and of the same family of creatures. He married her to a young and handsome Mole, and great was the joy and rejoicing at the wedding. The pair were well-mated and lived happily ever afterward. Unmannerly Tiger and Other Korean Tales (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company, 1911), pp. 50-55.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2031C,A Story on Caste (Bompas),India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 51, pp. 168-70.","There was once a village inhabited only by Musahars. Among them was one girl who was so beautiful that she seemed more than human. Her father and mother were so proud of her looks that they determined not to marry her to a man of their own caste. They were constantly discussing whom they should choose as a son-in-law; one day they began to consider who were the greatest persons in the world. The old woman was of opinion that there was no one greater than Chando, the Sun God, and suggested that they should marry the girl to him. Her husband agreed and off they set and presented themselves before Chando. Chando asked why they had come. 'O Chando, we understand that you are the greatest being in the world and we have come to marry our daughter to you.' Chando answered, 'I fancy there is some one greater than I.' 'Who is he?' asked the parents. 'The cloud is greater than I, for it can hide my face and quench my rays.' At this the father and mother hurried off with their daughter in search of the cloud, and when they found him, told him that they had brought their daughter to give him to wife, as he was the greatest being in the world. 'I may be great,' said the cloud, 'but there is a greater than I, the wind. The wind rises and blows me away in a minute.' So they went in search of the wind and when they found him, explained to him why they had brought him their daughter. The wind said, 'I am strong but there are stronger than I. The mountains are stronger. I can blow things down or whirl them away, but I cannot move the mountains.' So on they went to the mountain and explained their errand. The mountain said, 'I am great but there are more powerful than I. The ground-rat is more powerful, for however high I may be the ground-rats burrow holes in me and I cannot resist them.' The poor parents by this time began to feel rather discouraged, but still they made up their minds to persevere and went on to look for the ground-rat. They found him and offered him their daughter in marriage, but the ground-rat denied that he was the most powerful being on earth. The Musahars were more powerful for they lived by digging out ground-rats and eating them. The hapless couple went home very dejectedly, reflecting that they had begun by despising their own caste and had gone in search of something greater and had ended where they began. So they arranged to marry their daughter to a man of their own caste after all. Moral. You should not despise your own caste or race; you cannot help what caste you are born into. A Santal may learn to read and write and associate with men of good position and thereby his mind may be perverted. He may wish to change his caste and become a Sadhu, or a Kherwar, or a Boistab, or a Mussulman, or a Christian or anything else; but people will still know him for a beef-eating Santal. If he becomes a Christian, no one will think him the equal of a Saheb or a Brahman; no Saheb will marry his daughter or give him his daughter in marriage. Remember what happened to the Musahar, who despised his own caste. God caused you to be born in a certain caste. He and not we made the different castes, and He knows what is good and bad for us.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2031C,The Most Powerful Husband in the World (Northafrica),French North Africa,"The stories in this collection were gathered from the French folklore journal Mélusine and Paul Sébillot's Contes des provinces de la France. This tale is identified as 'An Arabian Story,' suggesting that its origin is one of the former French colonies in North Africa.","Martha Ward Carey, transl. Fairy Legends of the French Provinces (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell and Co., 1887), pp. 118-20.","It is said that a monk, whose prayers were always answered, was one day seated on the seashore, when he saw a kite fly holding in one of its claws a little mouse, which escaped and fell on the monk. Touched with compassion for the mouse, he took it, wrapped it up in a leaf, and carried it home with him. Fearing that his people would not be very eager to care for it, he prayed his Lord to change it into a young girl; and immediately it became a young girl gifted with great beauty. The monk led her to his wife, and said to the latter, 'Here is a girl who belongs to me, and I desire that you shall treat her as my own child.' When she had come to the age of womanhood, the monk said to her, 'My dear daughter, you are quite grown up, and you absolutely must have a husband; choose then, one to suit yourself, so that I may unite you to him.' 'Since you leave me free to choose,' she replied, 'I wish for my husband, he who is the most powerful in the world.' 'Perhaps you would like the sun?' said he; and he went to find the sun, and said to it, 'O! thou who art so essentially great, I have a daughter who desires to have for a husband he who is the most powerful in the world; would you be willing to marry her?' 'I will show you someone who is more powerful than I,' said the sun. 'It is the cloud which obscures me, and makes my rays pale and tarnishes the splendor of my fires.' The monk went to the cloud and repeated to him the sun's words.' 'And I,' said the cloud, 'I will show you someone more powerful than I. Go find the wind which makes me come and go, which drives me from east to west.' The monk went to find the wind, and said to him the same things which he had said to the cloud; but the wind said to him also, 'I will show you someone more powerful than I. It is the mountain that I cannot move.' Then the monk went to speak to the mountain, which made him this reply, 'I will show you someone more powerful than I. It is the rat, against which I cannot defend myself, when he bores into me and makes his home in me.' At last the monk went and said to the rat, 'Do you wish to marry my young daughter?' 'And how could I do so?' cried the rat. 'My hole is narrow, and a rat only marries a mouse.' The monk then prayed his Lord to change the young girl into a mouse, as she was before, and this to the entire contentment of the young girl. Immediately she resumed her original shape, and she ran away with the rat. Legends of the French Provinces (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell and Co., 1887), pp. 118-20. The stories in this collection were gathered from the French folklore journal Mélusine and Paul Sébillot's Contes des provinces de la France. This tale is identified as 'An Arabian Story,' suggesting that its origin is one of the former French colonies in North Africa.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2031C,The Mouse Metamorphosed into a Maid (Lafontaine),Jean de La Fontaine,Link to this fable in the original French: La souris métamorphosée en fille.,"Jean de La Fontaine, The Fables of Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright; a new edition with notes by J. W. M. Gibbs (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 9, fable 7, pp. 231-33.","The mouse, indeed, was sadly bruised. Although, as neighbors, we are used To be more kind to many others, The Brahmins treat the mice as brothers. The notion haunts their heads, that when The soul goes forth from dying men, It enters worm, or bird, or beast, As Providence or Fate is pleased; And on this mystery rests their law, Which from Pythagoras they're said to draw. And hence the Brahmin kindly pray'd To one who knew the wizard's trade, To give the creature, wounded sore, The form in which it lodged before. Forthwith the mouse became a maid, Of years about fifteen; A lovelier was never seen. She would have waked, I ween, In Priam's son, a fiercer flame Than did the beauteous Grecian dame. Surprised at such a novelty, The Brahmin to the damsel cried, 'Your choice is free; For every he Will seek you for his bride.' Said she, 'Am I to have a voice? The strongest, then, shall be my choice.' 'O sun!' the Brahmin cried, 'this maid is thine, And thou shalt be a son-in-law of mine.' 'No,' said the sun, 'this murky cloud, it seems, In strength exceeds me, since he hides my beams; And him I counsel you to take.' Again the reverend Brahmin spake -- 'O cloud, on-flying with thy stores of water, Pray wast thou born to wed my daughter?' 'Ah, no, alas! for, you may see, The wind is far too strong for me. My claims with Boreas' to compare, I must confess, I do not dare.' 'O wind,' then cried the Brahmin, vex'd, And wondering what would hinder next, -- 'Approach, and, with thy sweetest air, Embrace -- possess -- the fairest fair.' The wind, enraptured, thither blew; -- A mountain stopp'd him as he flew, To him now pass'd the tennis-ball, And from him to a creature small. Said he, 'I'd wed the maid, but that I've had a quarrel with the rat. A fool were I to take the bride From one so sure to pierce my side.' The rat! It thrill'd the damsel's ear; The name at once seem'd sweet and dear. The rat! 'Twas one of Cupid's blows; The like full many a maiden knows; But all of this beneath the rose. One smacketh ever of the place Where first he show'd the world his face. Thus far the fable's clear as light; But, if we take a nearer sight, There lurks within its drapery Somewhat of graceless sophistry; For who, that worships e'en the glorious sun, Would not prefer to wed some cooler one? And doth a flea's exceed a giant's might, Because the former can the latter bite? And, by the rule of strength, the rat Had sent his bride to wed the cat; From cat to dog, and onward still To wolf or tiger, if you will: Indeed, the fabulist might run A circle backward to the sun. -- But to the change the tale supposes, -- In learned phrase, metempsychosis. The very thing the wizard did Its falsity exposes -- If that indeed were ever hid. According to the Brahmin's plan, The proud aspiring soul of man, And souls that dwell in humbler forms Of rats and mice, and even worms, All issue from a common source, And, hence, they are the same of course. -- Unequal but by accident Of organ and of tenement, They use one pair of legs, or two, Or e'en with none contrive to do, As tyrant matter binds them to. Why, then, could not so fine a frame Constrain its heavenly guest To wed the solar flame? A rat her love possess'd. In all respects, compared and weigh'd, The souls of men and souls of mice Quite different are made, -- Unlike in sort as well as size. Each fits and fills its destined part As Heaven doth well provide; Nor witch, nor fiend, nor magic art, Can set their laws aside.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2031C,The Rats and Their Daughter (Japan),Japan,Link to additional Folktales from Japan.,"David Brauns, 'Die Ratten und ihr Töchterlein,' Japanische Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich, 1885), pp. 85-87.","Once near a lonely farmhouse surrounded by rice fields there lived a rat couple. They were highly regarded by their own kind and very prosperous. One day, in addition to their many other children, a little daughter was born to them. She was so dainty with her shiny gray fur, her broad little upright ears, and her glistening eyes, that her parents became quite proud of their little daughter. Day in and day out their only thoughts were how they might prepare a magnificent future for her. When the little rat came of age, both parents came to the conclusion that only the most powerful being in the entire world should be her husband. Once they were discussing this matter with a neighbor, and he said, 'If you want to give your daughter in marriage to the most powerful being, you must choose the sun as your son-in-law, for without question, no one equals the sun in power. The rat couple saw that this was true, and without hesitation they made their way to the sun and presented to him their proposal that he should marry their daughter. The sun replied, 'I am much indebted to you that you have come so far, and that you have the kind intention to give me your daughter in marriage, but please tell me just why you have chosen me to be your son-in-law.' The rats said, 'We would like to give our daughter in marriage to the most powerful being in the world, and without dispute you are that one. Therefore we have chosen you to be our son-in-law.' Then the sun said, 'What you say is not without foundation, but there is a being more powerful than I, and it is he to whom you must give your daughter.' The rats replied, 'Can there in truth be someone more powerful than you?' The sun said, 'When I want to shine on the earth, a cloud often comes by and covers me up, and my rays are unable either to penetrate it or to frighten it away. I am powerless against the cloud. Thus you must go to the cloud and make him your son-in-law.' The rats saw that it was so, and they went to the cloud. After they had presented their proposal to him, the cloud said, 'You are in error if you think that I am the most powerful being. I do indeed have the power to cover the sun, but I am powerless against the wind. When he begins to blow, he drives me away and tears me to pieces. There is nothing I can do against him.' So the rats went to the wind and made the proposal to him that he should marry their daughter, whom they wanted to give in marriage to the most powerful being. But the wind said, 'You are in error. I do indeed have the power to drive away the cloud, but I am powerless against the wall that people build to hold me back. I can neither blow through it nor do anything to it. The wall is much more powerful than I.' So the rats again set forth and came to the wall, to whom, in a similar manner, they made their request. The wall replied, 'It is indeed true that I have the power to resist the wind, but there is a rat that is undermining me, boring into me and making holes throughout me, and there is nothing I can do to stop him. I am powerless against the rat. It would be better for you to take the rat for your son-in-law than to choose me!' This pleased the rats, for they saw that the wall was right. They returned home and married their dear daughter to a handsome young rat. They never regretted this, for their daughter lived happily and contentedly with a man of her own kind. And the parents, who once had wanted to elevate her so high, shared in her happiness and satisfaction.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2031C,The Story of the Rat and Her Journey to God (Romania),Romania,NA,"M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 109, p. 318.","In a mill a rat once lived and prospered. It took after the miller, and from day to day its paunch grew bigger. It became as round as a cucumber and as fat as a candle. One day, looking at its round, sleek figure, the rat said to itself, 'Behold I am so beautiful and strong. Why should I not go and pay a visit to God? He is sure to receive me.' No sooner said than done. Leaving the mill, he started on his journey to God. After traveling a few days and not coming nearer to God, he stopped and said, 'Methinks that either God lives much farther away than I believed, or I have lost my way. I will go to the sun and ask where God is.' Coming to the sun, the rat asked, 'Where is God?' 'Off with you,' shouted the sun. 'I have no time for idle talkers.' The rat went to the clouds and asked them, 'Where is God?' 'We cannot stop to bandy words with the like of you.' Away the rat went and came to the wind. 'Where is God?' asked the rat. 'There,' replied the wind, whistling, and getting hold of the rat hurled him down onto an ant-heap, and there he found his level.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2031C,The Transformed Mouse Seeks a Bridegroom (Panchatantra),India (The Panchatantra),"I have used the following edition: 'Die verwandelte Maus soll sich einen Bräutigam wählen,' Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, aus dem Sanskrit übersetzt mit Einleitung und Anmerkungen von Theodor Benfey, vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), pp. 262-66. In addition to making a few minor stylistic changes, I have omitted from my translation a lengthy discourse in verse, presented by the wise man to his wife, on the supposed benefits of child marriage. About The Panchatantra Link to additional Tales from the Panchatantra.","The Panchatantra, book 3.","On the shore of the Ganges there was a hermitage filled with holy men dedicated to prayer, self denial, repentance, the study of holy scriptures, fasting, and meditation. They drank only small amounts of very pure water, and mortified their bodies with a diet of bulbs, roots, fruits, and water plants. Their only clothing were loincloths made from tree bark. The father of the hermitage was named Yajnavalkya. He had just finished bathing in the Ganges and was about to rinse out his mouth when a little mouse fell from a falcon's beak into his hand. After looking at it, he set it onto a fig leaf, bathed himself once more, rinsed out his mouth, and performed his penitential and other rituals. Then through the power of his holiness he transformed the mouse into a girl. Taking her home with him to his hermitage, he said to his wife, who was childless, 'My dear, take her in place of a daughter. Bring her up with care!' Thereafter she was reared, loved, and nurtured. When she was twelve years old, and the wife saw that she was ready for marriage, she said to her husband, 'Listen, husband, do you not see that it is past time for our daughter's marriage?' He said, 'What you say is quite right! So if she is willing, I will summon the exalted sun god and present her to him as a wife. His wife said, 'What could be said against that? Do it!' Through the power of prayer and incantations the sun appeared without delay, saying, 'Holy man, why do you summon me?' The man answered, 'Behold! Here stands my little daughter. If she will have you, take her as a wife!' Having said this, he said to his daughter, 'Daughter, does this exalted one please you, this sun god who illuminates the three worlds?' The daughter said, 'Father, he is too hot. I do not want him. Summon a better one!' Hearing this, the wise man said to the sun, 'Exalted one, is there a being more powerful than you?' The sun answered, 'Yes, there is a stronger one than I. The cloud, through whose cover I become invisible.' Then the wise man summoned the cloud and said to his daughter, 'Daughter, shall I give you to this one as a wife?' She answered, 'He is black and cold. Therefore give me to another powerful being!' Upon this the wise man asked the cloud, 'Listen, cloud! Is there anyone more powerful than you?' The cloud answered, 'The wind is more powerful than I! Driven by the wind, I am scattered into a thousand pieces.' After hearing this, the wise man summoned the wind and said, 'Daughter, does the wind please you most of all as a husband?' She answered, 'Father! He is entirely too inconstant. Summon a more powerful one instead!' The wise man said, 'Wind, is there anyone more powerful than you?' The wind said, 'The mountain is more powerful than I, for however strong I am, he still stands firmly against me.' Then the wise man summoned the mountain and said to the girl, 'Daughter, shall I give you to this one in marriage?' She answered, 'Father, he is hard and rigid. Therefore give me to another one.' The wise man asked the mountain, 'Listen, king of the mountains, is there anyone more powerful than you?' The mountain answered, 'The mice are more powerful than I, for they make holes in my body with violence.' With that the wise man summoned a mouse and showed him to her, saying, 'Daughter, shall I give you to him as a wife? Does this mouse king please you?' Seeing him, she thought, 'He is of my own kind.' Her hair stood on end with pleasure, making her even more beautiful, and she said, 'Father, make me into a mouse and give me to him as a wife so I can fulfill the domestic duties prescribed for my kind!' Through the power of his holiness he transformed her into a little mouse and gave her to the other mouse as a wife. One of India's most influential contributions to world literature, The Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled in their current form between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes The Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of The Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2031C,The Vole Who Sought a Wife (Marie),Marie de France,"Little is known about the life of the medieval poet Marie de France, except that she probably was born in France and lived in England during the late 12th century.","Retold from the Anglo-Norman verse fable: 'Dou Muset ki quist Fame,' Poésies de Marie de France, vol. 2 (Paris: Chasseriau, 1820), no. 64, pp. 274-80.","Once there was a proud vole (a kind of mouse) that wanted to marry, but would not have a bride from his own lineage, wanting instead the daughter of a most high being. Thus he went to the sun, whom he held to be the mightiest being of all, and asked for the hand of his daughter. The sun replied, 'But there is one even mightier than I: the cloud, for he is able to cover my brightness entirely.' So the vole went to the cloud, addressed him as 'the mightiest one,' and asked to wed his daughter. The cloud responded that the vole would find an even stronger being in the wind, who had the power to push the cloud away at will. Next the vole journeyed to the wind, explaining that he understood him to be the most powerful creature of all, and wishing therefore to marry his daughter. 'You are mistaken,' answered the wind. 'The wall is stronger than I. He can withstand my mightiest blast.' 'Then I withdraw my request for you daughter's hand,' replied the vole. I will marry only into the mightiest family.' And he went forthwith to the wall. Upon hearing the vole's request to marry his daughter, and the explanations thereto, the wall replied, 'You have been misled, my friend. There is a creature still mightier than I.' 'Who, then?' asked the vole. 'He must be the strongest in the world.' 'Quite so,' said the wall. 'It's the mouse who has a nest inside of me. No mortar can withstand her gnawing. With time she'll be the death of me. However far you go, you'll find no better wife than this little lady mouse.' And thus it is with the proud and the arrogant who strive beyond their rightful place, and end up even lower than where they started.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2032,The Cock and the Mouse,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1885, no. 80, pp. 252-253.","Once upon a time there was a cock and a mouse. One day the mouse said to the cock, 'Friend cock, shall we go and eat some nuts on yonder tree?' 'As you like.' So they both went under the tree, and the mouse climbed up at once and began to eat. The poor cock began to fly, and flew and flew, but could not come where the mouse was. When it saw that there was no hope of getting there, it said, 'Friend mouse, do you know what I want you to do? Throw me a nut.' The mouse went and threw one and hit the cock on the head. The poor cock, with its head broken and all covered with blood, went away to an old woman. 'Old aunt, give me some rags to cure my head.' 'If you will give me two hairs, I will give you the rags.' The cock went away to a dog. 'Dog, give me some hairs. The hairs I will give the old woman. The old woman will give me rags to cure my head.' 'If you will give me a little bread,' said the dog, 'I will give you the hairs.' The cock went away to a baker. 'Baker, give me bread. I will give the bread to the dog. The dog will give hairs. The hairs I will carry to the old woman. The old woman will give me rags to cure my head.' The baker answered, 'I will not give you bread unless you give me some wood!' The cock went away to the forest. 'Forest, give me some wood. The wood I will carry to the baker. The baker will give me some bread. The bread I will give to the dog. The dog will give me hairs. The hairs I will carry to the old woman. The old woman will give me rags to cure my head.' The forest answered, 'If you will bring me a little water, I will give you some wood.' The cock went away to a fountain. 'Fountain, give me water. Water I will carry to the forest. Forest will give wood. Wood I will carry to the baker. Baker will give bread. Bread I will give dog. Dog will give hairs. Hairs I will give old woman. Old woman will give rags to cure my head.' The fountain gave him water. The water he carried to the forest. The forest gave him wood. The wood he carried to the baker. The baker gave him bread. The bread he gave to the dog. The dog gave him the hairs. The hairs he carried to the old woman. the old woman gave him the rags. And the cock cured his head.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2032,The Sexton's Nose,Italy,In this version the chain tale of type 2032 is introduced by a type 1655 tale about profitable exchanges. Link to additional tales of type 1655. Treating a dog bite by applying to it the hair of the dog that inflicted the wound is a widespread folk cure.,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1885, no. 79, pp. 250-252.","A sexton, one day in sweeping the church, found a piece of money (it was a fifth of a cent) and deliberated with himself as to what he would buy with it. If he bought nuts or almonds, he was afraid of the mice; so at last he bought some roasted peas, and ate all but the last pea. This he took to a bakery nearby, and asked the mistress to keep it for him. She told him to leave it on a bench, and she would take care of it. When she went to get it, she found that the cock had eaten it. The next day the sexton came for the roast pea, and when he heard what had become of it, he said they must either return the roast pea or give him the cock. This they did, and the sexton, not having anyplace to keep it, took it to a miller's wife, who promised to keep it for him. Now she had a pig, which managed to kill the cock. The next day the sexton came for the cock, and on finding it dead, demanded the pig, and the woman had to give it to him. The pig he left with a friend of his, a pastry cook, whose daughter was to be married the next day. The woman was mean and sly, and killed the pig for her daughter's wedding, meaning to tell the sexton that the pig had run away. The sexton, however, when he heard it, made a great fuss, and declared that she must give him back his pig or her daughter. At last she had to give him her daughter, whom he put in a bag and carried away. He took the bag to a woman who kept a shop, and asked her to keep for him this bag, which he said contained bran. The woman by chance kept chickens, and she thought she would take some of the sexton's bran and feed them. When she opened the bag she found the young girl, who told her how she came there. The woman took her out of the sack, and put in her stead a dog. The next day the sexton came for his bag, and putting it on his shoulder, started for the seashore, intending to throw the young girl in the sea. When he reached the shore, he opened the bag, and the furious dog flew out and bit his nose. The sexton was in great agony, and cried out, while the blood ran down his face in torrents, 'Dog, dog, give me a hair to put in my nose, and heal the bite.' The dog answered, 'Do you want a hair? Give me some bread.' The sexton ran to a bakery, and said to the baker, 'Baker, give me some bread to give the dog. The dog will give a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and cure the bite.' The baker said, 'Do you want bread? Give me some wood.' The sexton ran to the woodman. 'Woodman, give me wood to give the baker. The baker will give me bread. The bread I will give to the dog. The dog will give me a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and heal the bite.' The woodman said, 'Do you want wood? Give me a mattock.' The sexton ran to a smith. 'Smith, give me a mattock to give the woodman. The woodman will give me wood. I will carry the wood to the baker. The baker will give me bread. I will give the bread to the dog. The dog will give me a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and heal the bite.' The smith said, 'Do you want a mattock? Give me some coals.' The sexton ran to the collier. 'Collier, give me some coals to give the smith. The smith will give me a mattock. The mattock I will give the woodman. The woodman will give me some wood. The wood I will give the baker. The baker will give me bread. The bread I will give the dog. The dog will give me a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and heal the bite.' 'Do you want coals? Give me a cart.' The sexton ran to the wagon maker. 'Wagon maker, give me a cart to give the collier. The collier will give me some coals. The coals I will carry to the smith. The smith will give me a mattock. The mattock I will give the woodman. The woodman will give me some wood. The wood I will give the baker. The baker will give me bread. The bread I will give to the dog. The dog will give me a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and heal the bite.' The wagon maker, seeing the sexton's great lamentation, is moved to compassion, and gives him the cart. The sexton, well pleased, takes the cart and goes away to the collier. The collier gives him the coals. The coals he takes to the smith. The smith gives him the mattock. The mattock he takes to the woodman. The woodman gives him wood. The wood he carries to the baker. The baker gives him bread. The bread he carries to the dog. The dog gives him a hair. The hair he puts in his nose, and heals the bite.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,Brother Rabbit Takes Some Exercise (Harris),African American,NA,"Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1883), no. 20, pp. 108-13.","One night while the little boy was sitting in Uncle Remus's cabin, waiting for the old man to finish his hoe-cake, and refresh his memory as to the further adventures of Brother Rabbit, his friends and his enemies, something dropped upon the top of the house with a noise like the crack of a pistol. The little boy jumped, but Uncle Remus looked up and exclaimed, 'Ah-yi!' in a tone of triumph. 'What was that, Uncle Remus?' the child asked, after waiting a moment to see what else would happen. 'New from Jack Frost, honey. When that hickory-nut tree out there hears him coming, she begins to drop what she's got. I'm mighty glad,' he continued, scraping the burnt crust from hi hoe-cake with an old case-knife. 'I'm mighty glad hickory nuts aren't as big and heavy as grindstones.' He waited a moment to see what effect this queer statement would have on the child. 'Yes, sir, I'm might glad, that I am. Because if hickory nuts were as big as grindstones, this here old calaboose would be leaking long before Christmas.' Just then another hickory nut dropped upon the roof, and the little boy jumped again. This seemed to amuse Uncle Remus, and he laughed until he was near to choking himself with his smoking hoe-cake. 'You are doing exactly what old Brer Rabbit did, I declare to gracious if you aren't,' the old man cried, as soon as he could get his breath. 'Exactly for the world.' The child was immensely flattered, and at once he wanted to know how Brother Rabbit did. Uncle Remus was in such good humor that he needed no coaxing. He pushed his spectacles back on he forehead, wiped him mouth on his sleeve, and began: It came about that early one morning towards the fall of the year Brer Rabbit was stirring around in the woods after some bergamot to use for making him some hair grease. The wind was blowing so cold that it made him feel right frisky, and every time he heard the bushes rattle, it seemed to scare him. He was going on this way, hoppity-skippity, when by and by he heard Mr. Man cutting on a tree way off in the woods. He sat up, Brer Rabbit did, and listened first with one ear and then with the other. The man, he cut and cut, and Brer Rabbit, he listened and listened. By and by, while all this was going on, down came the tree: kubber-lang-bang-blam! Brer Rabbit, he took and jumped just like you jumped, and not only that, he made a break, he did, and he leaped out of as though the dogs were after him. 'Was he scared, Uncle Remus?' asked the little boy. 'Scared! Who? Him? Shoo! Don't you fret yourself about Brer Rabbit, honey. In those days there was nothing going that could scare Brer Rabbit. To be sure, he took care of himself, and if you know anyone who refuses to take care of himself, I would mighty well like you to point him out. Indeed I would!' Uncle Remus seemed to boil over wit argumentative indignation. Well then, he continued, Brer Rabbit ran until he sort of got heated up, and about the time he was getting ready to squat and catch his wind, who should he meet but Brer Coon going home after sitting up with old Brer Bull-Frog. Brer Coon saw him running, and he hailed him, 'What's your hurry, Brer Rabbit?' 'Haven't got time to tarry.' 'Folks sick?' 'No, my Lord! Haven't got time to tarry!' 'Trying out your suppleness?' 'No, my Lord! Haven't got time to tarry!' 'Do pray, Brer Rabbit, tell me the news!' 'Mighty big fuss back there in the woods. Haven't got time to tarry!' This made Brer Coon feel might skittish, because he was far from home, and he just leaped out, he did, and he went a-boiling through the woods. Brer Coon hadn't gone far until he met Brer Fox. 'Hey, Brer Coon, where are you going?' 'Haven't got time to tarry!' 'Going to the doctor?' 'No, my Lord! Haven't got time to tarry!' Do pry, Brer Coon, tell me the news.' Mighty queer racket back there in the woods! Haven't got time to tarry! With that, Brer Fox leaped out, he did, and fairly split the wind. He hadn't gone far until he met Brer Wolf. 'Hey, Brer Fox! Stop and rest yourself!' 'Haven't got time to tarry!' 'Who is wanting the doctor?' 'No one, my Lord! Haven't got time to tarry.' 'Do pray, Brer Fox, good or bad, tell me the news.' 'Mighty curious fuss back there in the woods! Haven't got time to tarry!' With that, Brer Wolf shook himself loose from the face of the earth, and he didn't get far until he met Brer Bear. Brer Bear, he asked, and Brer Wolf made an answer, and by and by Brer Bear snorted and ran off. And, bless gracious, it wasn't long before the last one of the creatures was a-skaddling through the woods as though the Old Boy were after them, and all because Brer Rabbit heard Mr. Man cut a tree down. They ran and they ran, Uncle Remus went on, until they them to Brer Terrapin's house, and they sort of slacked up, because they had nearly lost their wind. Brer Terrapin, he up an asked them where they were going, and they said there was a monstrous, terrifying racket back there in the woods. Brer Terrapin, he asked what it sounded like. One said he didn't know; the other said he didn't know; and they all said they didn't know. This made old Brer Terrapin laugh way down in his insides, and he up and said, 'You all can run along if you feel skittish,' he said. 'After I cook my breakfast and wash up the dishes, and if I get wind of any suspicious racket, maybe I might just take down my parasol and follow along after you,' he said. When the creatures came to ask one another about who started the news, it went right back to Brer Rabbit, but low and behold, Brer Rabbit wasn't there! It turned out that Brer Coon was the one who had seen him last. Then they got to laying the blame of it on one or the other, until they almost began to fight, but then old Brer Terrapin, he up and said that if they wanted to straighten it out, they'd better go see Brer Rabbit. All the creatures agreed, the they started out for Brer Rabbit's house. When they got there, Brer Rabbit was sitting cross-legged on the front porch winking his eyes at the sun. Brer Bear spoke up, 'What made you fool me, Brer Rabbit?' 'Fool who, Brer Bear?' 'Me, Brer Rabbit, that's who.' 'This is the first time I've seen you today, Brer Bear, and you are more than welcome at that.' They all asked him and got the same answer, and then Brer Coon put in, 'What made you fool me, Brer Rabbit?' 'How did I fool you, Brer Coon?' 'You made like there was a big racket, Brer Rabbit.' 'What kind of a racket, Brer Rabbit?' 'Ah-yi! You should have asked me that first, Brer Coon.' 'I'm asking you now, Brer Rabbit.' 'Mr. Man cut a tree down, Brer Coon.' Of course this made Brer Coon feel like a natural-born slink, and it wasn't long before all the creatures made their bows to Brer Rabbit and moseyed off home. 'Brother Rabbit had the best of it all along,' said the little boy, after waiting to see whether there was a sequel to the story. 'Oh, did he ever!' exclaimed Uncle Remus. 'Brer Rabbit was a mighty man in those days.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,Henny-Penny (Jacobs),England/Australia,"Jacobs' source: 'I give this as it was told to me in Australia in 1860.' (Notes and References, pp. 243-44)","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales, third edition, revised (London: David Nutt, 1898), no. 20, pp. 113-16.","One day Henny-Penny was picking up corn in the cornyard when -- whack! -- something hit her upon the head. 'Goodness gracious me!' said Henny-Penny; 'the sky's a-going to fall; I must go and tell the king.' So she went along and she went along and she went along till she met Cocky-Locky. 'Where are you going, Henny-Penny?' says Cocky-Locky. 'Oh! I'm going to tell the king the sky's a-falling,' says Henny-Penny. 'May I come with you?' says Cocky-Locky. 'Certainly,' says Henny-Penny. So Henny-Penny and Cocky-Locky went to tell the king the sky was falling. They went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Ducky-Daddles. 'Where are you going to, Henny-Penny and Cocky-Locky?' says Ducky-Daddles. 'Oh! we're going to tell the king the sky's a-falling,' said Henny-Penny and Cocky-Locky. 'May I come with you?' says Ducky-Daddles. 'Certainly,' said Henny-Penny and Cocky-Locky. So Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, and Ducky-Daddles went to tell the king the sky was a-falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Goosey-Poosey. 'Where are you going to, Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, and Ducky-Daddles?' said Goosey-Poosey. 'Oh! we're going to tell the king the sky's a-falling,' said Henny-Penny and Cocky-Locky and Ducky-Daddles. 'May I come with you,' said Goosey-Poosey. 'Certainly,' said Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky and Ducky-Daddles. So Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, and Goosy-Poosey went to tell the king the sky was a-falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Turkey-Lurkey. 'Where are you going, Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, and Goosey-Poosey?' says Turkey-Lurkey. 'Oh! we're going to tell the king the sky's a-falling,' said Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, and Goosey-Poosey. 'May I come with you? Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, and Goosey-Poosey?' said Turkey-Lurkey. 'Oh, certainly, Turkey-Lurkey,' said Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, and Goosey-Poosey. So Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey all went to tell the king the sky was a-falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Foxy-Woxy, and Foxy-Woxy said to Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey: 'Where are you going, Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey?' And Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey said to Foxy-Woxy: 'We're going to tell the king the sky's a-falling.' 'Oh! but this is not the way to the king, Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey,' says Foxy-Woxy. 'I know the proper way; shall I show it you?' 'Oh certainly, Foxy-Woxy,' said Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey. So Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, Turkey-Lurkey, and Foxy-Woxy all went to tell the king the sky was a-falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they came to a narrow and dark hole. Now this was the door of Foxy-Woxy's cave. But Foxy-Woxy said to Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey: 'This is the short way to the king's palace; you'll soon get there if you follow me. I will go first and you come after, Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey.' 'Why of course, certainly, without doubt, why not?' said Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey. So Foxy-Woxy went into his cave, and he didn't go very far but turned round to wait for Henny-Penny, Cocky-Locky, Ducky-Daddles, Goosey-Poosey, and Turkey-Lurkey. So at last at first Turkey-Lurkey went through the dark hole into the cave. He hadn't got far when 'Hrumph,' Foxy-Woxy snapped off Turkey-Lurkey's head and threw his body over his left shoulder. Then Goosey-Poosey went in, and 'Hrumph,' off went her head and Goosey-Poosey was thrown beside Turkey-Lurkey. Then Ducky-Daddles waddled down, and 'Hrumph,' snapped Foxy-Woxy, and Ducky-Daddles' head was off and Ducky-Daddles was thrown alongside Turkey-Lurkey and Goosey-Poosey. Then Cocky-Locky strutted down into the cave and he hadn't gone far when 'Snap, Hrumph!' went Foxy-Woxy and Cocky-Locky was thrown alongside of Turkey-Lurkey, Goosey-Poosey and Ducky-Daddles. But Foxy-Woxy had made two bites at Cocky-Locky, and when the first snap only hurt Cocky-Locky, but didn't kill him, he called out to Henny-Penny. But she turned tail and off she ran home, so she never told the king the sky was a-falling.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,Henny-Penny and Her Fellow Travelers (Chambers),Scotland,"Following widespread tradition, I have included Henny-Penny's name in the title. Chambers' title for this story is simply 'The Hen and Her Fellow Travelers.'","Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. and R. Chambers, 1870), p. 59. Preface dated November 24, 1841.","A hen was picking at a stack of pea-straw when a pea fell on her head, and she thought the sky was falling. And she thought she would go and tell the king about it. And she went, and went, and went, and she met a cock. And he said, 'Where are you going this day, Henny-Penny?' And she says, 'I'm going to tell the king the sky is falling.' And he says, 'I'll go with you, Henny-Penny.' And they went, and they went, and they went. And they met a duck. And the duck says, 'Where are you going this day, Cocky-Locky, Henny-Penny?' 'We're going to tell the king the sky is falling.' 'I'll go with you, Cocky-Locky, Henny-Penny.' 'Then come along, Ducky-Daddles.' And they went, and they went, and they went. And they met a goose. And the goose says, 'Where are you going this day, Ducky-Daddles, Cocky-Locky, Henny-Penny?' 'We're going to tell the king the sky is falling.' And he says, 'I'll go with you, Ducky-Daddles, Cocky-Locky, Henny-Penny.' 'Then come along, Goosie-Poosey,' said they. And they went, and they went, and they went, till they came to a wood, and there they met a fox. And the fox says, 'Where are you going this day, Goosie-Poosey, Ducky-Daddles, Cocky-Locky, Henny-Penny?' 'We're going to tell the king the sky is falling.' And he says, 'Come along, and I'll show you the road, Goosie-Poosey, Ducky-Daddles, Cocky-Locky, Henny-Penny.' And they went, and they went, and they went, till they came to the fox's hole. And he shoved them all in, and he and his young ones ate them all up, and they never got to tell the king the sky was falling.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,The Cock and the Hen That Went to Dovrefjell (Norway),Norway,Link to the original Norwegian text Høna som skulle till Dovre forat ikke allverden skulle forgå. Dovrefjell is a mountainous region in south-central Norway.,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Popular Tales from the North, translated by George Webbe Dasent, new edition (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons; Edinburgh: David Douglas, 1912), pp. 353-56.","Once upon a time there was a hen that had flown up and perched on an oak tree for the night. When the night came, she dreamed that unless she got to Dovrefjell, the world would come to an end. So that very minute she jumped down, and set out on her way. When she had walked a bit she met a cock. 'Good day, Cocky-Locky,' said the hen. 'Good day, Henny-Penny,' said the cock. 'Where are you going so early?' 'Oh, I'm going to Dovrefjell, that the world won't come to an end,' said the hen. 'Who told you that, Henny-Penny?' asked the cock. 'I sat in the oak and dreamed it last night,' said the hen. 'I'll go with you,' said the cock. Well, they walked on a good bit, and then they met a duck. 'Good day, Ducky-Lucky,' said the cock. 'Good day, Cocky-Locky' said the duck. 'Where are you going so early?' 'Oh, I'm going to Dovrefjell, that the world won't come to an end,' said the cock. 'Who told you that, Cocky-Locky?' 'Henny-Penny,' said the cock. 'Who told you that, Henny-Penny?' asked the duck. 'I sat in the oak and dreamed it last night,' said the hen. 'I'll go with you,' said the duck. So they went off together, and after a bit they met a goose. 'Good day, Goosey-Poosey,' said the duck. 'Good day, Ducky-Lucky,' said the goose. 'Where are you going so early?' 'I'm going to Dovrefjell, that the world won't come to an end,' said the duck. 'Who told you that, Ducky-Lucky?' asked the goose. 'Cocky-Locky.' 'Who told you that, Cocky-Locky?' 'Henny-Penny.' 'How do you know that, Henny-Penny?' said the goose. 'I sat in the oak and dreamed it last night, Goosey-Poosey,' said the hen. 'I'll go with you,' said the goose. Now when they had all walked along for a bit, a fox met them. 'Good day, Foxy-Cocksy,' said the goose. 'God day, Goosey-Poosey.' 'Where are you going, Foxy-Cocksy?' 'Where are you going yourself, Goosey-Poosey?' 'I'm going to Dovrefjell, that the world won't come to an end,' said the goose. 'Who told you that, Goosey-Poosey?' asked the fox. 'Ducky-Lucky.' 'Who told you that, Ducky-Lucky?' 'Cocky-Locky.' 'Who told you that, Cocky-Locky?' 'Henny-Penny.' 'How do you know that, Henny-Penny?' 'I sat in the oak and dreamed last night, that if we don't get to Dovrefjell, the world will come to an end,' said the hen. 'Stuff and nonsense,' said the fox. 'The world won't come to an end if you don't go there. No, come home with me to my den. That's far better, for it's warm and jolly there.' Well, they went home with the fox to his den, and when they got inside, the fox laid on lots of fuel, so that they all got very sleepy. The duck and the goose, they settled themselves down in a corner, but the cock and hen flew up on a post. So when the goose and duck were well asleep, the fox took the goose and laid him on the embers, and roasted him. The hen smelled the strong roast meat, and sprang up to a higher peg, and said, half asleep, 'Phooey, what a nasty smell! What a nasty smell!' 'Oh, stuff!' said the fox. 'It's only the smoke driven down the chimney. Go to sleep again, and hold your tongue.' So the hen went off to sleep again. Now the fox had hardly got the goose well down his throat, before he did the very same with the duck. He took and laid him on the embers, and roasted him for a dainty bit. Then the hen woke up again, and sprang up to a higher peg still. 'Phooey, what a nasty smell! What a nasty smell!' she said again, and when she got her eyes open, and came to see how the fox and eaten two of them, both the goose and the duck. So she flew up to the highest peg of all, and perched there, and peeped up through the chimney. 'Nay, nay, just see what a lovely lot of geese are flying over there,' she said to the fox. Out ran Reynard to fetch a fat roast. But while he was gone, the hen woke up the cock and told him how it had gone with Goosey-Poosey and Ducky-Lucky. And so Cocky-Locky and Henny-Penny flew out through the chimney, and if they hadn't got to Dovrefjell, it surely would have been all over with the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,The End of the World (Flanders),Flanders,"Flanders is a cultural region comprising parts of France, Belgium, and the Netherlands.","Jean de Bosschère, Folk Tales of Flanders (New York: Dodd, Mead, and Company, 1918), pp. 139-46.","In the yard he passed the house dog who was sitting in front of his kennel. 'Hallo, Chaton!' cried the dog. 'Where are you going to in such a hurry?' 'I am fleeing the country,' answered Chaton. 'I have just heard the sounding of the last trump! The end of the world is at hand!' 'If that is so,' said the dog, 'I would like to run away too. May I come with you?' 'Certainly,' answered Chaton. 'Seat yourself on my beautiful curly tail.' So the dog perched himself on the cat s tail, and off they went together. A little farther on they came to the farm gate, and there, perched on the topmost rail, was the cock. 'Whither away, Chaton?' asked the cock. 'You seem to be in haste.' 'Yes,' said Chaton. 'I have heard the last trump, which proves that the world is coming to an end, and I want to get safely away before that happens.' 'Take me with you, Chaton dear,' said the cock. 'By all means,' answered the cat. 'Jump on to my beautiful curly tail beside the dog.' So the cock perched himself on Chaton's tail, and now there were two passengers. Away went the cat even faster than before, so as to make up for lost time, and presently they passed a rabbit who was nibbling the grass in a field. 'Chaton, Chaton,' cried the rabbit, 'why are you running so quickly?' 'Don't stop me!' answered the cat. 'I've heard the last trump! The end of the world is coming!' 'Oh, dear me!' cried the rabbit. 'What an unfortunate thing! Don't leave me here, Chaton, for I am afraid to face the end of the world.' 'Very well,' said Chaton. 'Jump on to my beautiful curly tail with the dog and the cock, and I'll take you with me.' So the rabbit also perched himself on the cat's tail, and now there were three of them riding there. Off went the cat again, but not so quickly this time, because of the weight on his tail, and before very long he came to a pond by the side of which a goose was standing. 'Now then, now then, what's the hurry?' asked the goose. 'If you run so fast you'll overheat your blood and die of a fever.' 'It's all very well to scoff,' answered the cat, 'but you must know that the end of the world is coming. I have heard the last trump sound!' 'My goodness!' said the goose. 'This is dreadful! Take me with you, Chaton, and I'll be grateful for ever.' 'Very well,' said the cat. 'Jump on to my beautiful curly tail with the dog and the fox and the rabbit.' So the goose also perched herself on the cat's tail, so now there were four passengers, and that made five altogether who were running away to escape the end of the world. All that day the cat kept on running, and towards dusk they came to a forest. 'This seems a good place to rest,' said Chaton. 'Now then, master cock, fly to the top of a tree and see if you can espy a house in which we can take shelter.' The cock flew to the top of a high tree and from there he saw a number of lights twinkling in the distance. The five fugitives thereupon set off in the direction from which the lights shone, and before long they came to a little village. All the people of the village had left their houses and were gathered together in the square, round a man dressed all in red, with a big red feather in his cap, who was addressing them. Chaton and his companions pressed close to the edge of the crowd and were just in time to hear these words: 'Whoever finds the ring,' said the man with the red feather,' and places it on the table in my palace tomorrow before dawn, shall have the five bags of gold which hang on my saddle bow.' Having said this, the man in red mounted his horse and rode away. Chaton went up to a little peasant who was standing in the crowd. 'Tell me, gossip,' said he, 'who is the man with the red feather, and what's all this about a ring and five bags of gold?' 'Why,' said the peasant, 'the man in red is the king of this country. He had a valuable ring which was kept in a tiny wooden case on the table by his bed. This afternoon a magpie flew in through the window, snatched up the case, and bore it away to its nest in the topmost boughs of the walnut tree on the village green. The king wants his ring back again, and will give the five bags of gold to anybody who will recover it for him.' 'I see,' said Chaton; 'and why don't you climb the walnut tree and get the ring?' 'Because I have too much respect for my neck,' answered the peasant, 'and so has everybody else here. The boughs at the top of the tree where the nest is are so thin and slender that they would not bear the weight of a child, let alone a grown man. Gold is good, but whole limbs are better, that's what I say!' 'And I!' 'And I!' echoed other villagers who had been listening to this conversation. 'In my belief you are quite right,' said Chaton seriously. 'Let the king risk his own life if he is so anxious to recover his ring.' But afterwards, when he had withdrawn with his companions to the shelter of the wood, he sang a different tune. 'My friends,' said he, 'our fortunes are made! As soon as all is quiet I will climb the tree and get the ring; then you shall sit on my tail again and we'll all go off together to the king's palace and get the bags of gold!' He danced for joy, and the dog and the cock and the goose and the rabbit danced with him. An hour afterwards the cat climbed the tree and came down safely with the little wooden box. The rabbit gnawed it open with his teeth, and sure enough there was the ring inside it. 'Now,' said Chaton, 'we will all go to the king's palace, but I am very tired with running all day. I propose that the dog takes a turn at carrying us.' This was agreed. The other four got on to the dog's back and clung there while he ambled off as fast as he could along the road towards the palace. Just before dawn they came to a wide river. Now it was the turn of the goose to work for the common good. She was quite used to the water, and one by one she took the other animals across on her back. Shortly afterwards they arrived at the king's palace, and the cock flew up through the open window of the king's room with the ring in his beak, and placed it on the table by the bed. Then he awoke the king with a loud crow and claimed the reward, which was willingly given. In great glee at their good fortune the animals went on their way, each with his bag of gold, and every one of them had by this time quite forgotten his fear about the coming of the end of the world. They went on and on until they came to a place where five ways met. Then Chaton said, 'Here we are at the parting of the ways. Let us each choose a road, and part good friends.' At this moment there came along a pig with a knife and fork stuck in his back. In his right ear was salt; in his left ear pepper, and mustard was on his tail, so that everybody who was hungry had only to cut themselves a slice of meat and sit down to feast. Our friends gladly availed themselves of this good chance, and I who tell you this story would willingly have done the same, but as soon as I went up to the pig, he ran at me with his head down and sent me flying through the air, and through the window of my house, where I fell into the chair in which I am now sitting, finishing this story of the wonderful adventures of Chaton, the dog, the cock, the rabbit, and the goose.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,The End of the World (Kennedy),Ireland,NA,"Patrick Kennedy, The Fireside Stories of Ireland (Dublin: M'Glashan and Gill, 1870), p. 25.","'How do you know, Henny Penny?' says he. 'Oh, a nut fell on my tail just now.' 'If that be so, we have nothing for it but to run away.' So they ran till they met the duck. 'Oh, Ducky Lucky, the end of the world is come.' 'How do you know, Cocky Locky?' 'Oh, a nut fell just now on Henny Penny's tail.' 'If that be so, we must run for it.' When they were pegging off, they met the goose. 'Oh, Goosey Poosey, the end of the world is come.' 'How do you know, Ducky Lucky?' 'A nut fell on Henny Penny's tail just now.' 'If that be the case, we are done for.' They met the fox. 'Oh, Foxy Coxy, the world is come to an end.' 'How do you know that, Goosey Poosey?' 'Oh, a nut fell on Henny Penny's tail.' 'Then let us be off.' So they got into the wood, and says Foxy Coxy, 'Let me count if all are safe. I, Foxy Coxy, one; you, Goosey Poosey, two; Ducky Lucky, three; Cocky Locky, four; Henny Penny, five. Number five, I'll put you in a safe place where the end of the world won't hurt you.' So he took Henny Penny behind a hush and put her out of pain. 'Now,' says he, coming back, 'let us count if all the rest are safe. I, Foxy Coxy, one; you, Goosey Poosey, two; etc., etc. Number four, I'll put you in a place where you'll be safe when the end of the world comes.' He took him behind another bush, etc., etc., etc. 'Now let me see if all the rest are here. I, Foxy Coxy, one; etc., etc., etc.' and so on till he put the fear of the world's end out of every one of them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,The Flight of the Beasts (Schiefner),Tibet,NA,"Anton Schiefner, Tibetan Tales: Derived from Indian Sources, translated by W. R. S. Ralston (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1906), no. 22, pp. 296-98.","At a long distant period there stood on the shore of a lake a vilva forest. In this forest dwelt six hares. Now a vilva tree in that forest fell into the lake, thereby producing a great noise. When the six hares heard this noise, they began, as they had but small bodies, to run away full of fear. The jackals saw them running, and asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do ye run?' The hares replied, 'There was a great noise.' Thereupon the jackals also took to flight. When the monkeys saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do ye run?' The jackals replied, 'There was a great noise.' Thereupon the monkeys also When the gazelles saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore The monkeys replied, 'There was a great noise.' Thereupon the gazelles also took to flight. When the boars saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do ye run?' The gazelles replied, 'There was a noise.' Thereupon the boars also took to flight. When the buffaloes saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do ye run? ' The boars replied, 'There was a noise.' Thereupon the buffaloes also took When the rhinoceroses saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do ye run?' The buffaloes replied, 'There was a noise.' Thereupon the rhinoceroses When the elephants saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore The rhinoceroses replied, 'There was a noise.' Thereupon the elephants When the bears saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do The elephants replied, 'There was a noise.' Thereupon the bears also took When the hyenas saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do The bears replied, 'There was a noise.' Thereupon the hyenas also took to flight. When the panthers saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore The hyenas replied, 'There was a noise.' Thereupon the panthers also took When the tigers saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do The panthers replied, 'There was a noise.' Thereupon the tigers also took When the lions saw them running they asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do The tigers replied, 'There was a loud noise.' Thereupon the lions also At the foot of the mountain there dwelt a maned lion, which likewise seemed to wear a diadem. When it saw the lions running it asked, 'O honored ones, wherefore do ye all run, although each of you is strong in claws and strong in teeth?' The lions replied, 'There was a loud noise.' 'O honored ones, whence did the noise come?' it asked. 'We do not know,' they replied. Then said that lion, 'O honored ones, do not run. Inquiry must be made as to where the noise came from.' It asked the tigers, 'Who told you about it?' The tigers replied, 'The panthers.' It asked the panthers, 'Who was it told you?' The panthers replied, 'The hyenas.' It asked the hyenas, 'Who was it told you?' The hyenas replied, 'The bears.' It asked the bears, 'Who was it told you?' The bears replied, 'The elephants.' It asked the elephants, 'Who was it told you ?' The elephants replied, 'The rhinoceroses.' It asked the rhinoceroses, 'Who was it told you?' The rhinoceroses replied, 'The buffaloes.' It asked the buffaloes, 'Who was it told you?' The buffaloes replied, 'The boars.' It asked the boars, 'Who was it told you?' The boars replied, 'The gazelles.' It asked the gazelles, 'Who was it told you?' The gazelles replied, 'The monkeys.' It asked the monkeys, 'Who was it told you?' The monkeys replied, 'The jackals.' It asked the jackals, 'Who was it told you?' The jackals replied, 'The hares.' It asked the hares, 'Who was it told you?' The hares replied, 'We saw the terrible thing with our own eyes. Come, we will show you whence the noise came.' So they guided the lion, and showed it the vilva forest, saying, 'That is where the noise came from.' Inasmuch as the noise was caused by the fall of a vilva tree out of that forest into the lake, the lion said, 'O honored ones, be not afraid, for that was only an empty sound.' Consequently they were all tranquillized. And a deity uttered this verse, 'Let not men believe in words. They ought to see everything for themselves. Observe how, through the fall of a vilva, the forest lost its beasts.' Tales: Derived from Indian Sources, translated by W. R. S. Ralston (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1906), no. 22, pp. 296-98.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,The Little Chicken Kluk and His Companions (Thorpe),Denmark,NA,"Benjamin Thorpe, Yule-Tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions, from the Swedish, Danish, and German, (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1853), pp. 421-22.","There was once a little chicken called Kluk. A nut fell on his back, and gave him such a blow that he fell down and rolled on the ground. So he ran to the hen, and said, 'Henny Penny, run, I think all the world is falling!' 'Who has told thee that, little chicken Kluk?' 'Oh, a nut fell on my back, and struck me so that I rolled on the 'Oh, a nut fell on my back, and struck me so that I rolled on the ground.' 'Then let us run,' said the hen. So they ran to the cock, and said, ' Cocky Locky, run, I think all the world is falling.' 'Who has told thee that, Henny Penny? ' 'Little chicken Kluk.' 'Who told thee that, little chicken Kluk?' 'Oh, a nut fell on my back, and struck me so that I rolled on the ground.' 'Then let us run,' said the cock. So they ran to the duck, and said, 'Ducky Lucky, run, I think all the world is falling.' 'Who told thee that, Cocky Locky?' 'Henny Penny.' 'Who has told thee that, Henny Penny?' 'Then let us run,' said the duck. So they ran to the goose. 'Goosy Poosy, run, I think all the world is falling.' 'Who has told thee that, Ducky Lucky?' 'Cocky Locky.' 'Who has told thee that, Cocky Locky?' 'Who has told thee that, Henny Penny ?' 'Oh, a nut fell on my back, and struck me so, that I rolled on the ground. 'Then let us run,' said the goose. Then they ran to the fox, and said, Foxy Coxy, run, I think all the world is falling.' 'Who has told thee that, Goosy Poosy?' 'Ducky Lucky.' 'Oh, a nut fell on my back, and struck me so, that I rolled on the ground.' 'Then let us run,' said the fox. So they all ran into the wood. Then the fox said, 'I must now count and see if I have got you all here. I, Foxy Coxy, one; Goosy Poosy, two; Ducky Lucky, three; Cocky Locky, four; Henny Penny, five; and little chicken Kluk, six ; Hei ! That one I'll snap up.' He then said : 'Let us run.' So they ran further into the wood. Then said he, Now I must count and see if I have got you all here. I, Foxy Coxy, one; Goosy Poosy, two; Ducky Lucky, three; Cocky Locky, four; Henny Penny, five; Hei! That one I'll snap up.' And so he went on till he had eaten them all up. Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions, from the Swedish, Danish, and German, (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1853), pp. 421-22.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,The Story of Chicken-Licken (Halliwell),England,NA,"James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to The Nursery Rhymes of England (London: J. R. Smith, 1849), pp. 29-31.","'Well, Hen-Len, where are you going?' And Hen-Len said, 'I'm going to the wood for some meat.' And Chicken-Licken said, 'Oh! Hen-Len, don't go, for I was going, and the sky fell upon my poor bald pate, and I'm going to tell the king.' So Hen-Len turned back with Chicken-Licken, and met Cock-Lock. 'Oh! Cock-Lock, where are you going?' And Cock-Lock said, 'I'm going to the wood for some meat.' Then Hen-Len said, 'Oh! Cock-Lock, don't go, for I was going, and I met Chicken-Licken, and Chicken-Licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king.' So Cock-Lock turned back, and met Duck-Luck. 'Well, Duck-Luck, where are you going?' And Duck-Luck said, 'I'm going to the wood for some meat.' Then Cock-Lock said, 'Oh! Duck-Luck, don't go, for I was going, and I met Hen-Len, and Hen-Len met Chicken-Licken, and Chicken-Licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king.' So Duck-Luck turned back, and met Drake-Lake. 'Well, Drake-Lake, where are you going?' And Drake-Lake said, 'I'm going to the wood for some meat.' Then Duck-Luck said, 'Oh! Drake-Lake, don't go, for I was going, and I met Cock-Lock, and Cock-Lock met Hen-Len, and Hen-Len met Chicken-Licken, and Chicken-Licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king.' So Drake-Lake turned back, and met Goose-Loose. 'Well, Goose-Loose, where are you going?' And Goose-Loose said, 'I'm going to the wood for some meat.' Then Drake-Lake said, 'Oh! Goose-Loose, don't go, for I was going, and I met Duck-Luck, and Duck-Luck met Cock-Lock, and Cock-Lock met Hen-Len, and Hen-Len met Chicken-Licken, and Chicken-Licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king.' So Goose-Loose turned back, and met Gander-Lander. ' Well, Gander-Lander, where are you going?' And Gander-Lander said, 'I'm going to the wood for some meat.' Then Goose-Loose said, 'Oh! Gander-Lander, don't go, for I was going, and I met Drake-Lake, and Drake-Lake met Duck-Luck, and Duck-Luck met Cock-Lock, and Cock-Lock met Hen-Len, and Hen-Len met Chicken-Licken, and Chicken-Licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king.' So Gander-Lander turned back, and met Turkey-Lurkey. 'Well, Turkey-Lurkey, where are you going?' And Turkey-Lurkey said, 'I'm going to the wood for some meat.' Then Gander-Lander said, 'Oh! Turkey-Lurkey, don't go, for I was going, and I met Goose-Loose, and Goose-Loose met Drake-Lake, and Drake-Lake met Duck-Luck, and Duck-Luck met Cock-Lock, and Cock-Lock met Hen-Len, and Hen-Len met Chicken-Licken, and Chicken-Licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king.' So Turkey-Lurkey turned back, and walked with Gander-Lander, Goose-Loose, Drake-Lake, Duck-Luck, Cock-Lock, Hen-Len, and Chicken-Licken. And as they were going along, they met Fox-lox. And Fox-Lox said, ' Where are you going, my pretty maids?' And they said, 'Chicken-licken went to the wood, and the sky fell upon her poor bald pate, and we are going to tell the king.' And Fox-Lox said, 'Come along with me, and I will show you the way.' But Fox-Lox took them into the fox's hole, and he and his young ones soon ate up poor Chicken-Licken, Hen-Len, Cock-Lock, Duck-Luck, Drake-Lake, Goose-Loose, Gander-Lander, and Turkey-Lurkey, and they never saw the king, to tell him that the sky had fallen!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
20C,The Timid Hare and the Flight of the Beasts (Jataka),India,NA,"The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, vol. 3 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1897), no. 322, pp. 49-52.","Once upon a time when Brahmadatta reigned in Benares, the Bodhisatta [the future Buddha] came to life as a young lion. And when fully grown he lived in a wood. At this time there was near the Western Ocean a grove of palms mixed with vilva trees. A certain hare lived here beneath a palm sapling, at the foot of a vilva tree. One day this hare, after feeding, came and lay down beneath the young palm tree. And the thought struck him, 'If this earth should be destroyed, what would become of me?' And at this very moment a ripe vilva fruit fell on a palm leaf. At the sound of it, the hare thought, 'This solid earth is collapsing,' and starting up he fled, without so much as looking behind him. Another hare saw him scampering off, as if frightened to death, and asked the cause of his panic flight. 'Pray, don't ask me,' he said. The other hare cried, 'Pray, sir, what is it?' and kept running after him. Then the hare stopped a moment and without looking back said, 'The earth here is breaking up.' And at this the second hare ran after the other. And so first one and then another hare caught sight of him running, and joined in the chase till one hundred thousand hares all took to flight together. They were seen by a deer, a boar, an elk, a buffalo, a wild ox, a rhinoceros, a tiger, a lion, and an elephant. And when they asked what it meant and were told that the earth was breaking up, they too took to flight. So by degrees this host of animals extended to the length of a full league. When the Bodhisatta saw this headlong flight of the animals, and heard the cause of it was that the earth was coming to an end, he thought, 'The earth is nowhere coming to an end. Surely it must be some sound which was misunderstood by them. And if I don't make a great effort, they will all perish. I will save their lives.' So with the speed of a lion he got before them to the foot of a mountain, and lion-like roared three times. They were terribly frightened at the lion, and stopping in their flight stood all huddled together. The lion went in amongst them and asked why there were running away. 'The earth is collapsing,' they answered. 'Who saw it collapsing?' he said. 'The elephants know all about it,' they replied. He asked the elephants. 'We don't know,' they said, 'the lions know.' But the lions said, 'We don't know, the tigers know.' The tigers said, 'The rhinoceroses know.' The rhinoceroses said, 'The wild oxen know.' The wild oxen, 'the buffaloes.' The buffaloes, 'the elks.' The elks, 'the boars.' The boars, 'the deer.' The deer said, 'We don't know; the hares know.' When the hares were questioned, they pointed to one particular hare and said, 'This one told us.' So the Bodhisatta asked, 'Is it true, sir, that the earth is breaking up?' 'Yes, sir, I saw it,' said the hare. 'Where,' he asked, 'were you living, when you saw it?' 'Near the ocean, sir, in a grove of palms mixed with vilva trees. For as I was lying beneath the shade of a palm sapling at the foot of a vilva tree, methought, 'If this earth should break up, where shall I go?' And at that very moment I heard the sound the breaking up of the earth, and I fled.' Thought the lion, 'A ripe vilva fruit evidently must have fallen on a palm leaf and made a 'thud,' and this hare jumped to the conclusion that the earth was coming to an end, and ran away. I will find out the exact truth about it.' So he reassured the herd of animals, and said, 'I will take the hare and go and find out exactly whether the earth is coming to an end or not, in the place pointed out by him. Until I return, do you stay here.' Then placing the hare on his back, he sprang forward with the speed of a lion, and putting the hare down in the palm grove, he said, 'Come, show us the place you meant.' 'I dare not, my lord,' said the hare. 'Come, don't be afraid,' said the lion. The hare, not venturing to go near the vilva tree, stood afar off and cried, 'Yonder, sir, is the place of dreadful sound,' and so saying, he repeated the first stanza: After hearing what the hare said, the lion went to the foot of the vilva tree, and saw the spot where the hare had been lying beneath the shade of the palm tree, and the ripe vilva fruit that fell on the palm leaf, and having carefully ascertained that the earth had not broken up, he placed the hare on his back and with the speed of a lion soon came again to the herd of beasts. Then he told them the whole story, and said, 'Don't be afraid.' And having thus reassured the herd of beasts, he let them go. Verily, if it had not been for the Bodhisatta at that time, all the beasts would have rushed into the sea and perished. It was all owing to the Bodhisatta that they escaped death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2035,The House That Jack Built,NA,"This is the house that Jack built. This is the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the man all tatter'd and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tatter'd and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the cock that crow'd in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tatter'd and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the farmer sowing his corn, That kept the cock that crow'd in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tatter'd and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. Links to additional nineteenth-century versions: Bentley's Miscellany, vol. 13 (London: Richard Bentley, 1843), p. 481. This is a parody of the traditional rhyme. It was first published in the Morning Chronicle, September 22, 1809. [William Hone], The Political House That Jack Built, illustrated by George Cruikshank (1819). This is a parody of the traditional rhyme. 'A New House That Jack Built,' The Examiner: A Sunday Paper on Politics, Domestic Economy and Theatricals, for the year 1819 (London: John Hunt, 1819), p. 652. This is a parody of the traditional rhyme. A Treasury of Pleasure Books for Young People (London: Sampson Low and Son, 1856), no. 5, pp. 1-16. Each story in this volume is numbered separately. Laura Valentine, Games for Family Parties and Children (London: Frederick Warne and Company, 1869), p. 66. William Alexander Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions: Their Migrations and Transformations, vol. 1 (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1887), pp. 289-91. Bentley's Miscellany, vol. 13 (London: Richard Bentley, 1843), p. 481. This is a parody of the traditional rhyme. It was first published in the Morning Chronicle, September 22, 1809. [William Hone], The Political House That Jack Built, illustrated by George Cruikshank (1819). This is a parody of the traditional rhyme. 'A New House That Jack Built,' The Examiner: A Sunday Paper on Politics, Domestic Economy and Theatricals, for the year 1819 (London: John Hunt, 1819), p. 652. This is a parody of the traditional rhyme. A Treasury of Pleasure Books for Young People (London: Sampson Low and Son, 1856), no. 5, pp. 1-16. Each story in this volume is numbered separately. Laura Valentine, Games for Family Parties and Children (London: Frederick Warne and Company, 1869), p. 66. William Alexander Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions: Their Migrations and Transformations, vol. 1 (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1887), pp. 289-91.","James Orchard Halliwell [Halliwell-Phillipps], The Nursery Rhymes of England: Collected Chiefly from Oral Tradition, 4th edition (London: John Russell Smith, 1846), no. 398, pp. 175-78.","an English nursery rhyme of folktale type 2035 edited by This is the malt That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the rat, That ate the malt This is the cat, That kill'd the rat, This is the dog, That worried the cat, This is the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, This is the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, This is the man all tatter'd and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, This is the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tatter'd and torn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, This is the cock that crow'd in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, This is the farmer sowing his corn, That kept the cock that crow'd in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That killed the rat, Links to additional nineteenth-century versions: fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2043,Club Fist,USA,NA,"William Wells Newell, Games and Songs of American Children (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1884), no. 75, pp. 134-35.","A child lays on a table his clenched fist, with the thumb elevated; another grasps the raised thumb with his own fist, and so on until a pile of fists is built up. A player, who remains apart from the group, then addresses the child whose hand is at the top: 'What's that?' 'A pear.' 'Take it off, or I'll knock it off.' The same conversation is repeated with the next child, and so on; the fist being withdrawn as speedily as possible, to escape a rap from the questioner. When only one is left, the following dialogue ensues: 'What have you got there?' 'Bread and cheese.' 'Where's my share ?' 'Cat's got it.' 'Where's the cat?' 'In the woods.' 'Where's the woods ?' 'Fire burned it.' 'Where's the fire?' 'Water quenched it.' 'Where's the water?' 'Ox drank it.' 'Where's the ox?' 'Butcher killed it.' 'Where's the butcher?' 'Rope hung him.' 'Where's the rope?' 'Rat gnawed it.' 'Where's the rat?' 'Cat caught it.' 'Behind the church door. The first who laughs, or grins, or shows the teeth has three pinches and three knocks.' Then follows a general scattering; for some child is sure to laugh, and if he does not do so of his own accord, his neighbors will certainly tweak him, poke him, or otherwise excite his risibility. Georgia. In Pennsylvania the conversation ends: 'He's behind the door eracking nuts, and whoever speaks first I'll slap his fingers, Because I am the keeper of the keys, And I do whatever I please.' This dialogue, based on a well-known nursery tale, has maintained itself with remarkable persistence, and even verbal identity, in several European languages. We meet it in Germany and Denmark, as well as England.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2043,What Have You Got There?,England,NA,"Charlotte Sophia Burne, Shropshire Folk-Lore: A Sheaf of Gleanings, edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne from the collections of Georgina F. Jackson (London: Trübner and Compnay, 1883), p. 529.","Two playfellows place their clenched fists one on the top of the other; the owner of the uppermost fist is asked, 'What have you got there?' He replies, 'Apple pie,' or any other victuals; is told, 'Take it off or else I'll knock it off!' and obeys; and so on till the last, when the dialogue runs: 'What have you got there?' -- Ans. 'Roast beef.' 'Where's my part?' -- Ans. 'The cat's got it.' 'Where's the cat?' -- Ans. 'In the wood.' 'Where's the wood?' Ans. 'The fire's burnt it.' 'Where's the fire?' -- Ans. 'The water's quenched it.' 'Where's the water?' -- Ans. 'The ox has drunk it.' 'Where's the ox?' -- Ans. 'The butcher's killed it.' 'Where's the butcher?' -- Ans. 'Behind the church door cracking nuts.' Both (pretending to throw nutshells at each other): 'You shall have the shells, and I shall have the kernels!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
926,Solomon and the Two Women,The First Book of Kings,"Solomon's wise judgments (including many that are not recorded in the Bible) are featured in many Middle Eastern and European folktales. Link to such a text, composed by Geoffroy de la Tour Landry(ca. 1320-1391), and translated in English in 1484: 'The Iugement of the kynge Salamon,' The Book of the Knight of La Tour-Landry: Compiled for the Instruction of His Daughters, translated from the original French into English in the reign of Henry VI, edited by Thomas Wright, revised edition, 1906 (London: Published for the Early English Text Society by Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Company, 1868), pp. 100-101. Link to such a text, composed by Geoffroy de la Tour Landry(ca. 1320-1391), and translated in English in 1484: 'The Iugement of the kynge Salamon,' The Book of the Knight of La Tour-Landry: Compiled for the Instruction of His Daughters, translated from the original French into English in the reign of Henry VI, edited by Thomas Wright, revised edition, 1906 (London: Published for the Early English Text Society by Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Company, 1868), pp. 100-101.","First Book of Kings, 3:16-28. King James translation.","Then came there two women, that were harlots, unto King Solomon, and stood before him. And the one woman said, 'Oh my lord, I and this woman dwell in one house; and I was delivered of a child with her in the house. And it came to pass the third day after that I was delivered, that this woman was delivered also: and we were together; there was no stranger with us in the house, save we two in the house. And this woman's child died in the night; because she overlaid it. And she arose at midnight, and took my son from beside me, while thine handmaid slept, and laid it in her bosom, and laid her dead child in my bosom. And when I rose in the morning to give my child suck, behold, it was dead: but when I had considered it in the morning, behold, it was not my son, which I did bear.' And the other woman said, 'Nay; but the living is my son, and the dead is thy son.' And this said, 'No; but the dead is thy son, and the living is my son.' Thus they spake before the king. Then said the king, 'The one saith, 'This is my son that liveth, and thy son is the dead'; and the other saith, 'Nay; but thy son is the dead, and my son is the living.'' And the king said, 'Bring me a sword.' And they brought a sword before the king. And the king said, 'Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one, and half to the other.' Then spake the woman whose the living child was unto the king, for her bowels yearned upon her son, and she said, 'Oh my lord, give her the living child, and in no wise slay it.' But the other said, 'Let it be neither mine nor thine, but divide it.' Then the king answered and said, 'Give her the living child, and in no wise slay it: she is the mother thereof.' And all Israel heard of the judgment which the king had judged; and they feared the king: for they saw that the wisdom of God was in him, to do judgment. Solomon's wise judgments (including many that are not recorded in the Bible) are featured in many Middle Eastern and European folktales. 'The Iugement of the kynge Salamon,' The Book of the Knight of La Tour-Landry: Compiled for the Instruction of His Daughters, translated from the original French into English in the reign of Henry VI, edited by Thomas Wright, revised edition, 1906 (London: Published for the Early English Text Society by Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Company, 1868),",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
926,The Brahman and His Two Wives,Telugu Folktale,"The Telegu people are a South Indian ethnic group, residing mostly in the state of Andhra Pradesh.","G. R. Subramiah Pantulu, Folk-Lore of the Telugus: A Collection of Forty-Two Highly Amusing and Instructive Tales (Madras [Chennai]: G. A. Natesan and Company, [1910]), no. 17, pp. 40-41.","In the Dakhan lived a Brahman who had two wives. To the elder of these a son was born. When the son was about ten months old, the old Brahman set out with his family on a pilgrimage to Benares [Varanasi], but he unfortunately died on his way. The two women thereupon 'went to an adjacent agraharam (the Brahmans' quarters in a city or village), and remained there, rearing the boy with great affection, so much so that the child knew not which of the two was his real mother. But one day the younger lady quarrelled with the elder, and, declaring that she would no longer remain with her, took the child and set out to go home. The elder thereupon seized the child and demanded of the other why she was taking him away. The younger replied that as she had borne the child she was going away with him. So the two still disputing went to the Judge and told their story. He reflected a little, called his servants and ordered them to divide the child in twain and to give each a half. The younger lady remained silent, but the elder, being the real mother, was of opinion that so long as the child did but live it was enough; and, not consenting the Judge's proposal, said to him that the child was not her own, and requested him to give it to the other lady. The Judge, hearing these words, decided that the elder lady was the child's mother, and had the boy given to her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
926,The Future Buddha as a Wise Judge,Jataka Tales,"Link to another translation: 'The Son,' The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, vol. 6, translated by E. B. Cowell and W. H. D. Rouse (Cambridge: University Press, 1907), p. 163.","Buddhist Birth-Stories; or, Jataka Tales, edited by V. Fausbøll and translated by T. W. Rhys Davids, vol. 1 (London: Trübner and Company, 1880), pp. xiv-xvi. This tale is one of several stories included in the multi-part Jataka no. 546.","A woman, carrying her child, went to the future Buddha's tank to wash. And having first bathed the child, she put on her upper garment and descended into the water to bathe herself. Then a Yakshini, seeing the child, had a craving to eat it. And taking the form of a woman, she drew near, and asked the mother, 'Friend, this is a very pretty child. Is it one of yours?' And when she was told it was, she asked if she might nurse it. And this being allowed, she nursed it a little, and then carried it off. But when the mother saw this, she ran after her, and cried out, 'Where are you taking my child to?' and caught hold of her. The Yakshini boldly said, 'Where did you get the child from? It is mine!' And so quarreling, they passed the door of the future Buddha's Judgment Hall. He heard the noise, sent for them, inquired into the matter, and asked them whether they would abide by his decision. And they agreed. Then he had a line drawn on the ground; and told the Yakshini to take hold of the child's arms, and the mother to take hold of its legs; and said, 'The child shall be hers who drags him over the line.' But as soon as they pulled at him, the mother, seeing how he suffered, grieved as if her heart would break. And letting him go, she stood there weeping. Then the future Buddha asked the bystanders, 'Whose hearts are tender to babes? Those who have borne children, or those who have not?' And they answered, 'Oh sire! The hearts of mothers are tender.' Then he said, 'Who, think you, is the mother? She who has the child in her arms, or she who has let go?' And they answered, 'She who has let go is the mother.' And he said, 'Then do you all think that the other was the thief?' And they answered, 'Sire! We cannot tell.' And he said, 'Verily, this is a Yakshini, who took the child to eat And he replied, 'Because her eyes winked not, and were red, and she knew no fear, and had no pity, I knew it.' And so saying, he demanded of the thief, 'Who are you?' And she said, 'Lord! I am a Yakshini.' And he asked, 'Why did you take away this child?' And she said, 'I thought to eat him, Oh my Lord!' And he rebuked her, saying, 'Oh foolish woman! For your former sins you have been born a Yakshini, and now do you still sin!' And he laid a vow upon her to keep the Five Commandments, and let her go. But the mother of the child exalted the future Buddha, and said, 'Oh my Lord! Oh great physician! May your life be long!' And she went away, with her babe clasped to her bosom. Fausbøll and translated by T. W. Rhys Davids, vol. 1 (London: Trübner and Company, 1880), pp. xiv-xvi. This tale is one of several stories included in the multi-part Jataka no. 546.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
926,The Question Regarding the Son,Ummagga Jataka,The five moral precepts of Pali Buddhism (as formlated in Wikipedia are: I undertake the training rule to abstain from killing. I undertake the training rule to abstain from taking what is not given. I undertake the training rule to avoid sexual misconduct. I undertake the training rule to abstain from false speech. I undertake the training rule to abstain from fermented drink that causes heedlessness. I undertake the training rule to abstain from killing. I undertake the training rule to abstain from taking what is not given. I undertake the training rule to avoid sexual misconduct. I undertake the training rule to abstain from false speech. I undertake the training rule to abstain from fermented drink that causes heedlessness.,"Ummagga Jataka (The Story of the Tunnel), translated from the Sinhalese by T. B. Yatawara (London: Luzac and Company, 1898), pp. 19-20.","A certain woman, carrying her infant son, went to the Pandit's [future Buddha's] tank, and having bathed her son and placed him on her clothes, descended into the pond to wash her head and bathe herself. Immediately after she had gone down to bathe, a Yakinni, observing her son, and wishing to eat him, took the form of a woman, and coming near the child, said to the woman, 'Friend, this child is very pretty. Is he yours?' On her saying 'Yes,' the Yakinni asked her, 'Shall I give the child suck?' And when she replied, 'Very well,' the Yakinni took up the child, gave it a little milk, and ran away with it. The mother, seeing the woman running away with her child, ran after her, and asking her, 'Where are you taking my child to?' caught hold of her. The Yakinni then fearlessly replied, 'Where did you get a child from? This one is my own son.' These two were thus quarrelling, and passing by the gate of the 'Hall,' when the Bosat [future Buddha], hearing the noise of their quarrel, sent for both, and inquired of them what the cause of their dispute was; and recognising the Yakinni from the fact of her not winking, and her eyes being as red as olinda seeds, he inquired, 'Will you abide by my decision?' and on their agreeing to do so, he caused a line to be drawn on the ground, and the child to be laid exactly in the middle of the line. He then ordered the Yakinni to take hold of the child's two arms, and the mother the two legs, and said, 'Now, both of you pull away, and whosoever pulls the child over the line will be declared the mother.' They accordingly pulled the child, which suffered grievous pain thereby (and cried). The mother, whose heart burst with sorrow, then let go the child and stood weeping. The Bosat then inquired from those who were present, 'Whose heart is tender towards children? Is it that of the mother or of the stranger?' Many answered, 'Pandit! the heart of a mother is tender.' Having heard this, the Pandit inquired of all, 'What now do you think? Is it the woman who has the child in her arms that is the mother, or the woman who let go the child?' Everyone said, 'O Pandit! the woman who has let go the child is the mother.' Then the Pandit asked them, 'Do you all know now who it is that has stolen the child?' And when they replied, 'Pandit! we do not know,' he said, 'Oh! this woman is a Yakinni, and she has taken the child to eat it.' The people then asked the Pandit, 'How do you know it?' And he replied, 'Because her eyes are red and never wink, and she neither fears nor loves anybody. It is thus that I found out that she is a Yakinni.' Having thus spoken, the Pandit asked her, 'Who are you?' She replied, 'I am a Yakiuni.' 'Why did you take away this child?' 'Lord! to eat him,' she replied. The Pandit then warning her, said, 'Hear me! you foolish one. Because you committed sin in your last birth, you have been born a Yakinni; nevertheless, you commit sin still! Oh ! how foolish thou art!' After that, exhorting her, he made her take the 'Pansil,' [five moral precepts] and sent her away. The mother, taking the child in her arms, thanked him, and said, 'Lord! may you live long!' and went her way. Here ends the case regarding the son. The five moral precepts of Pali Buddhism (as formlated in Wikipedia are:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,Ashey Pelt,Ireland,"Damant's source: 'The following tale was told me by a woman now living, a native of Ulster, aged about sixty.'",NA,"A man married again, and his daughter, Ashey Pelt, was unhappy. She cried alone, and the black ewe came to her from under the greystone in the field and said, 'Don't cry. Go and find a rod behind the stone and strike it three times, and whatever you want will come.' So she did as she was bid. She wanted to go to a party. Dress and horses and all came to her, but she was bound to be back before twelve o'clock or all the enchantment would go, all she had would vanish. The sisters they did na' like her, she was so pretty, and the stepmother she kept her in wretchedness just. She was most lovely. At the party the prince fell in love with her, and she forgot to get back in time. In her speed a-running she dropped her silk slipper, and he sent and he went over all the country to find the lady it wad fit. When he came to Ashey Pelt's door he did not see her. The sisters was busy a-nipping and a-clipping at their feet to get on the silk slipper, for the king's son he had given out that he loved that lady sae weel he wad be married on whaever could fit on that slipper. The sisters they drove Ashey Pelt out bye to be out of the road, and they bid her mind the cows. They pared down their feet till one o' them could just squeeze it on. But she was in the quare agony I'm telling you. So off they rode away; but when he was passing the field the voice of the auld ewe cried on him to stop, and she says, says she:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,Cinderella (Grimm),Germany (Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm),"In the edition of 1819 (and all subsequent editions) the stepsisters' punishment is more severe: The pigeons attack them and peck out their eyes, leaving them blind for life. Link to the original German text of the above tale: Aschenputtel (1812). Link to the German text of the final version (1857) of this tale: Aschenputtle (1857). Link to an English translation of the last version (1857) of Cinderella. Link to the Grimm Brothers Home Page.",NA,"The snow fell over the mother's grave like a white cloth; then after the sun had retired from it a second time, and the little tree had become green a second time, the man took another wife. The stepmother already had two daughters by her first husband. They were beautiful to look at, but in their hearts they were proud, arrogant, and evil. After the wedding was over, the three moved into the man's house, and times grew very bad for his poor child. 'What is that useless creature doing in the best room?' asked the stepmother. 'Away to the kitchen with her! And if she wants to eat, then she must earn it. She can be our maid.' Her stepsisters took her dresses away from her and made her wear an old gray skirt. 'That is good enough for you!' they said, making fun of her and leading her into the kitchen. Then the poor child had to do the most difficult work. She had to get up before sunrise, carry water, make the fire, cook, and wash. To add to her misery, her stepsisters ridiculed her and then scattered peas and lentils into the ashes, and she had to spend the whole day sorting them out again. At night when she was tired, there was no bed for her to sleep in, but she had to lie down next to the hearth in the ashes. Because she was always dirty with ashes and dust, they gave her the name Cinderella. The time came when the king announced a ball. It was to last, in all splendor, for three days, and there his son, the prince, would choose a wife for himself. The two proud sisters were invited. 'Cinderella,' they cried, 'Come here. Comb our hair. Brush our shoes, and tighten our laces. We are going to the prince's ball.' Cinderella did the best that she could, but they rewarded her only with curses. When they were ready, they said with scorn, 'Cinderella, wouldn't you like to go to the ball?' 'Oh, yes. But how can I go? I don't have a dress.' 'No,' said the oldest one, 'and we would be ashamed if you were to be seen there, and people learned that you are our sister. You belong in the kitchen. Here is a basin of lentils. Sort the good ones from the bad ones, and if there is a single bad one in the lot when we return, you can expect the worst.' With that, they left. Cinderella stood and watched until she could no longer see them. Then she sadly went into the kitchen and spread the lentils out over the hearth. There was a very, very large pile of them. 'Oh,' she said with a sigh. 'I'll have to sit here sorting lentils until midnight, and I can't close my eyes, no matter how much they hurt. If only my mother knew about this!' She kneeled down in the ashes next to the hearth and was about to begin her work when two white pigeons flew in through the window. They lit on the hearth next to the lentils. Nodding their heads, they said, 'Cinderella, do you want us to help you sort the lentils?' 'Yes,' she answered: And peck, peck, peck, peck, they started at once, eating up the bad ones and leaving the good ones lying. In only a quarter of an hour there was not a single bad lentil among the good ones, and she brushed them all into the pot. Then the pigeons said to her, 'Cinderella, if you would like to see your sisters dancing with the prince, just climb up to the pigeon roost.' She followed them and climbed to the top rung of the ladder to the pigeon roost. There she could see into the hall, and she saw her sisters dancing with the prince. Everything glistened by the glow of a thousand lights. After she had seen enough, she climbed back down. With a heavy heart she lay down in the ashes and fell asleep. The next morning the two sisters came to the kitchen. They were angry when they saw that she had sorted the lentils, for they wanted to scold her. Because they could not, they began telling her about the ball. They said, 'Cinderella, it was so grand at the ball. The prince, who is the best looking man in the whole world, escorted us, and he is going to choose one of us to be his wife.' 'Yes,' said Cinderella, 'I saw the glistening lights. It must have been magnificent.' 'Now just how did you do that?' asked the oldest one. 'By standing up there on the pigeon roost.' When she heard this, her envy drove her to have the pigeon roost torn down immediately. Cinderella had to comb their hair and get them ready again. The youngest sister, who had a little sympathy in her heart, said, 'Cinderella, when it gets dark you can go and look through the windows from the outside.' 'No!' said the oldest one. 'That would only make her lazy. Here is a sackful of seeds. Sort the good ones from the bad ones, and do it well. If tomorrow there are any bad ones in the lot, then I will dump the whole sackful into the ashes, and you will have to go without eating until you have picked them all out again.' Cinderella sadly sat down on the hearth and spread out the seeds. The pigeons flew in again, and said, 'Cinderella, do you want us to help you sort the seeds?' 'Yes,' she answered: Peck, peck, peck, peck, it went as fast as if twelve hands were at work. When they were finished, the pigeons said, 'Cinderella, would you like to go dancing at the ball?' 'Oh, my goodness,' she said, 'how could I go in these dirty clothes?' 'Just go to the little tree on your mother's grave, shake it, and wish yourself some beautiful clothes. But come back before midnight.' So Cinderella went and shook the little tree, and said: She had scarcely spoken these words when a splendid silver dress fell down before her. With it were pearls, silk stockings with silver decorations, silver slippers, and everything else that she needed. Cinderella carried it all home. After she had washed herself and put on the beautiful clothing, she was as beautiful as a rose washed in dew. She went to the front door, and there was a carriage with six black horses all decorated with feathers, and servants dressed in blue and silver. They helped her into the carriage, and away they galloped to the king's castle. The prince saw the carriage stop before the gate, and thought that a foreign princess was arriving. He himself walked down the steps, helped Cinderella out, and escorted her into the hall. Many thousand lights shone upon her, and she was so beautiful that everyone there was amazed. The sisters stood there, angry that someone was more beautiful than they were, but they had no idea that it was Cinderella, who they thought was lying at home in the ashes. The prince danced with Cinderella and paid her every royal honor. He thought to himself, 'I am supposed to choose myself a bride. I will have no one but her.' However long she had suffered in ashes and sorrow, Cinderella was now living in splendor and joy. As midnight approached, before the clock struck twelve, she stood up, bowed, and said that she had to go, in spite of the prince's requests for her to stay. The prince escorted her out. Her carriage stood there waiting for her. And she rode away just as splendidly as she had come. The tree took back the clothes. Cinderella put on her old ash-dress again, went home, dirtied her face, and lay down in the ashes to sleep. The next morning the two sisters came in looking out of sorts, and without saying a word. Cinderella said, 'Did you have a good time yesterday evening?' 'No. A princess was there who danced with the prince almost the whole time, but no one knew who she was nor where she came from.' 'Was she the one in the splendid carriage drawn by six black horses?' asked Cinderella. 'How did you know that?' 'I was standing in the front door when she rode by the house.' 'In the future do not leave your work,' said the oldest one, giving Cinderella an evil look. 'What were you doing, standing in the front door?' Cinderella had to get her sisters ready a third time. Her reward was a basin filled with peas, which she was supposed to sort. 'And do not dare to leave your work,' shouted the oldest one, as she was leaving. Cinderella thought, 'If only my pigeons will come again,' and her heart beat a little faster. The pigeons did come, just as they had the evening before, and said, 'Cinderella, would you like us to help you sort the peas.' 'Yes,' she said: Once again the pigeons picked out the bad ones, and soon they were finished. Then they said, 'Cinderella, shake the little tree, and it will throw down even more beautiful clothes. Go to the ball, but be careful to come back before midnight.' Cinderella went and said: Then a dress fell down that was even more magnificent and more splendid than the other one, made entirely of gold and precious stones. With it were stockings decorated with gold, and slippers made of gold. Cinderella put them on, and she glistened like the sun at midday. A carriage with six white horses pulled up at the door. The horses had tall white plumes on their heads, and the servants were dressed in red and gold. When Cinderella arrived, the prince was waiting for her at the stairway. He escorted her into the hall. If everyone had been astounded at her beauty yesterday, today they were even more astounded. The sisters stood in the corner, pale with envy. If they had known that this was Cinderella, who they thought was at home lying in the ashes, they would have died of jealousy. The prince wanted to know who the foreign princess was, where she was from, and where she was going. He placed his people in the street to keep watch. To prevent her from running away so fast, he had the stairway covered with pitch. Cinderella danced with the prince again and again. Filled with joy, she did not think about midnight. Suddenly, in the middle of a dance, she heard the clock strike. She suddenly remembered what the pigeons had warned her. Frightened, she rushed to the door and ran down the stairs. Because they were covered with pitch, one of her golden slippers stuck fast, and in her fear she did not think to pick it up. She reached the last step just as the clock struck twelve. The carriage and the horses disappeared, and Cinderella was left standing there in the dark street dressed in her ash-clothes. The prince had rushed after her. He found the golden slipper on the stairway, pulled it loose, and picked it up. But by the time he arrived below, she had disappeared. The people whom he had ordered to keep watch came and said that they had seen nothing. Cinderella was glad that it had not been worse. She returned home, lit her simple oil lamp, hung it in the chimney, and lay down in the ashes. Before long the two sisters returned, and called out, 'Cinderella, get up and light the way for us.' Cinderella yawned and acted as though she had been asleep. While lighting their way, she heard one of them say, 'God knows who the cursed princess is. I wish that she were lying beneath the earth! The prince danced only with her, and after she left, he did not want to stay any longer, and the whole party came to an end.' 'It was as though they suddenly blew out all the lights,' said the other one. Cinderella knew exactly who the foreign princess was, but she did not say a word. Now the prince decided that since nothing else had succeeded, he would let the slipper help him find his bride. He had it proclaimed that he would marry the person whose foot fit the golden slipper. But it was too small for everyone. Indeed, some could not have gotten their foot inside, if it had been twice as large. Finally it came time for the two sisters to try on the slipper. They were happy, for they had small, beautiful feet, and each one believed that she could not fail. 'If only the prince would come here sooner!' they thought. 'Listen,' said the mother secretly. 'Take this knife, and if the slipper is too tight, just cut off part of your foot. It will hurt a little, but what harm is that? The pain will soon pass, and then one of you will be queen.' Then the oldest one went to her bedroom and tried on the slipper. The front of her foot went in, but her heel was too large, so she took the knife and cut part of it off, so she could force her foot into the slipper. Then she went out to the prince, and when he saw that she was wearing the slipper, he said that she was to be his bride. He escorted her to his carriage and was going to drive away with her. When he arrived at the gate, the two pigeons were perched above, and they called out: The prince bent over and looked at the slipper. Blood was streaming from it. He saw that he had been deceived, and he took the false bride back. The mother then said to her second daughter, 'Take the slipper, and if it is too short for you, then cut off your toes.' So she took the slipper into her bedroom, and because her foot was too long, she bit her teeth together, and cut off a large part of her toes, then quickly pulled on the slipper. When she stepped out wearing it, the prince thought that she was the right one, and wanted to ride away with her. But when they came to the gate, the pigeons again called out: The prince looked down and saw that her white stockings were stained red, and that blood and had come up high on them. The prince took her back to her mother and said, 'She is not the right bride either. Is there not another daughter here in this house?' 'No,' said the mother. 'There is only a dirty cinder girl here. She is sitting down there in the ashes. The slipper would never fit her.' She did not want to call her, but the prince insisted. So they called Cinderella, and when she heard that the prince was there, she quickly washed her hands and face. She stepped into the best room and bowed. The prince handed her the golden slipper, and said, 'Try it on. If it fits you, you shall be my wife.' She pulled the heavy shoe from her left foot, then put her foot into the slipper, pushing ever so slightly. It fit as if it had been poured over her foot. As she straightened herself up, she looked into the prince's face, and he recognized her as the beautiful princess. He cried out, 'This is the right bride.' The stepmother and the two proud sisters turned pale with horror. The prince escorted Cinderella away. He helped her into his carriage, and as they rode through the gate, the pigeons called out:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,Cinderella (Italy),Italy,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a man who had three daughters. He was once ordered to go away to work, and said the them, 'Since I am about making a journey, what do you want me to bring you when I return?' One asked for a handsome dress; the other, a fine hat and a beautiful shawl. He said to the youngest, 'And you, Cinderella, what do you want?' They called her Cinderella because she always sat in the chimney corner. 'You must buy me a little bird Verdeliò.' 'The simpleton! She does not know what to do with the bird! Instead of ordering a handsome dress, a fine shawl, she takes a bird. Who knows what she will do with it!' 'Silence!' she says. 'It pleases me.' The father went, and on his return brought the dress, hat, and shawl for the two sisters, and the little bird for Cinderella. The father was employed at the court, and one day the king said to him, 'I am going to give three balls; if you want to bring your daughters, do so; they will amuse themselves a little.' 'As you wish,' he replies, 'thanks!' and accepts. He went home and said, 'What do you think, girls? His majesty wishes you to attend his ball.' 'There, you see, Cinderella, if you had only asked for a handsome dress! This evening we are going to the ball.' She replied, 'It matters nothing to me! You go; I am not coming.' In the evening, when the time came, they adorned themselves, saying to Cinderella, 'Come along, there will be room for you, too.' 'I don't want to go; you go; I don't want to.' 'But,' said their father, 'let us go, let us go! Dress and come along; let her stay.' When they had gone, she went to the bird and said, 'O Bird Verdeliò, make me more beautiful than I am!' She became clothed in a sea green dress, with so many diamonds that it blinded you to behold her. The bird made ready two purses of money, and said to her, 'Take these two purses, enter your carriage, and away!' She set out for the ball, and left the bird Verdeliò at home. She entered the ballroom. Scarcely had the gentlemen seen this beautiful lady (she dazzled them on all sides), when the king, just think of it, began to dance with her the whole evening. After he had danced with her all the evening, his majesty stopped, and she stood by her sisters. While she was at her sisters' side, she drew out her handkerchief, and a bracelet fell out. 'Oh, Signora,' said the eldest sister, 'you have dropped this.' 'Keep it for yourself,' she said. 'Oh, if Cinderella were only here, who knows what might not have happened to her?' The king had given orders that when this lady went away they should find out where she lived. After she had remained a little she left the ball. You can imagine whether the servants were on the lookout! She entered her carriage and away! She perceives that she is followed, takes the money and begins to throw it out of the window of the carriage. The greedy servants, I tell you, seeing all that money, thought no more of her, but stopped to pick up the money. She returned home and went upstairs. 'O Bird Verdeliò, make me homelier than I am!' You ought to see how ugly, how horrid, she became, all ashes. When the sisters returned, they cried, 'Cin-der-ella!' 'Oh, leave her alone,' said her father. 'She is asleep now, leave her along!' But they went up and showed her the large and beautiful bracelet. 'Do you see, you simpleton? You might have had it.' 'It matters nothing to me.' Their father said, 'Let us go to supper, you little geese.' Let us return to the king, who was awaiting her servants, who had not the courage to appear, but kept away. He calls them. 'How did the matter go?' The fall at his feet. 'Thus and thus! She threw out so much money!' 'Wretches, you are nothing else.' he said. 'Were you afraid of not being rewarded? Well! tomorrow evening, attention, under pain of death.' The next evening the usual ball. The sisters say, 'Will you come this evening, Cinderella?' 'Oh,' she says, 'don't bother me! I don't want to go.' Their father cries out to them, 'How troublesome you are! Let her alone!' So they began to adorn themselves more handsomely than the former evening, and departed. 'Good-bye, Cinderella!' When they had gone, Cinderella went to the bird and said, 'Little Bird Verdeliò, make me more beautiful than I am!' Then she became clothed in sea green, embroidered with all the fish of the sea, mingled with diamonds more than you could believe. The bird said, 'Take these two bags of sand, and when you are followed, throw it out, and so they will be blinded.' She entered her carriage and set out for the ball. As soon as his majesty saw her he began to dance with her and danced as long as he could. After he had danced as long as he could (she did not grow weary, but he did), she placed herself near her sisters, drew out her handkerchief, and there fell out a beautiful necklace all made of coal. The second sister said, 'Signora, you have dropped this.' She replied, 'Keep it for yourself.' 'If Cinderella were here, who knows what might not happen to her! Tomorrow she must come!' After a while she leaves the ball. The servants (just think, under pain of death!) were all on the alert, and followed her. She began to throw out all the sand, and they were blinded. She went home, dismounted, and went upstairs. 'Little Bird Verdeliò, make me homelier than I am!' She became frightfully homely. When her sisters returned they began from below, 'Cin-der-ella! if you only knew what that lady gave us!' 'It matters nothing to me!' 'Yes, yes! you would have had it!' The father says, 'Let us go to supper and let her alone; you are really silly!' Let us return to his majesty, who was waiting for his servants to learn where she lived. Instead of that they were all brought back blinded, and had to be accompanied. 'Rogue!' he exclaimed, 'either this lady is some fairy or she must have some fairy who protects her.' The next day the sisters began, 'Cinderella, you must go this evening! Listen; it is the last evening; you must come.' The father: 'Oh let her alone! You are always teasing her!' Then they went away and began to prepare for the ball. When they were all prepared, they went to the ball with their father. When they had departed, Cinderella went to the bird: 'Little Bird Verdeliò, make me more beautiful than I am!' Then she was dressed in all the colors of the heavens; all the comets, the stars, and moon on her dress, and the sun on her brow. She enters the ballroom. Who could look at her! For the sun alone they lower their eyes, and are all blinded. His majesty began to dance, but he could not look at her, because she dazzled him. He had already given orders to his servants to be on the lookout, under pain of death, not to go on foot, but to mount their horses that evening. After she had danced longer than on the previous evenings she placed herself by her father's side, drew out her handkerchief, and there fell out a snuffbox of gold, full of money. 'Signora, you have dropped this snuffbox.' 'Keep it for yourself!' Imagine that man. He opens it and sees it full of money. What a joy! After she had remained a time she went home as usual. The servants followed her on horseback, quickly, at a distance from the carriage; but on horseback that was not much trouble. She perceived that she had not prepared anything to throw that evening. 'Oh!' she cried. 'What shall I do?' She left the carriage quickly, and in her haste lost one of her slippers. The servants picked it up, took the number of the house, and went away. Cinderella went upstairs and said, 'Little Bird Verdeliò, make me more homely than I am!' The bird does not answer. After she had repeated it three or four times, it answered, 'Rogue! I ought not to make you more homely, but ...' and she became homely and the bird continued, 'What are you going to do now? You are discovered.' She began to weep in earnest. When her sisters returned they cried, 'Cin-der-ella!' You can imagine that she did not answer them this evening. 'See what a beautiful snuffbox. If you had gone you might have had it.' 'I do not care! Go away!' Then their father called them to supper. Let us now turn to the servants who went back with the slipper and the number of the house. 'Tomorrow,' said his majesty, 'as soon as it is day, go to that house, take a carriage, and bring that lady to the palace.' The servants took the slipper and went away. The next morning they knocked at the door. Cinderella's father looked out and exclaimed, 'Oh heavens! It is his majesty's carriage. What does it mean?' They open the door and the servants ascend. 'What do you want of me?' asked the father. 'How many daughters have you?' 'Two.' 'Well, show them to us.' The father made them come in there. 'Sit down,' they said to one of them. They tried the slipper on her; it was ten times too large for her. The other one sat down; it was too small for her. 'But tell me, good man, have you no other daughters? Take care to tell the truth! because majesty wishes it, under pain of death!' 'Gentlemen, there is another one, but I do not mention it. She is all in the ashes, the coals. If you should see her! I do not call her my daughter from shame.' 'We have not come for beauty, or for finery; we want to see the girl!' Her sisters began to call her, 'Cin-der-ella!' but she did not answer. After a time she said, 'What is the matter?' 'You must come down! There are some gentlemen who wish to see you.' 'I don't want to come.' 'But you must come, you see!' 'Very well; tell them I will come in a moment.' She went to the little bird: 'Ah little Bird Verdeliò, make me more beautiful than I am!' Then she was dressed as she had been the last evening, with the sun, and moon, and stars, and in addition, great chains all of gold everywhere about her. The bird said, 'Take me away with you! Put me in your bosom!' She puts the bird in her bosom and begins to descend the stairs. 'Do you hear her?' said the father. 'Do you hear her? She is dragging with her the chains from the chimney corner. You can imagine how frightful she will look!' When she reached the last step, and they saw her, 'Ah!' they exclaimed, and recognized the lady of the ball. You can imagine how her father and sisters were vexed. They made her sit down, and tried on the slipper, and it fitted her. Then they made her enter the carriage, and took her to his majesty, who recognized the lady of the other evenings. And you can imagine that, all in love as her was, he said to her, 'Will you really be my wife?' You may believe she consents. She sends for her father and sisters, and makes them all come to the palace. They celebrate the marriage. Imagine what fine festivals were given at this wedding! The servants who had discovered where Cinderella lived were promoted to the highest positions in the palace as a reward.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,"Cinderella; or, The Little Glass Slipper",France (Charles Perrault),"Lang's source: Charles Perrault, Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: [Contes de ma mère l'Oye] (Paris: Chez Claude Barbin, 1697). Link to the original French text: 'Cendrillon, ou la petite pantoufle de verre,' Perrault's Popular Tales, edited from the original editions, with introduction, etc., by Andrew Lang (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1888), pp. 41-49.",NA,"No sooner were the ceremonies of the wedding over but the stepmother began to show herself in her true colors. She could not bear the good qualities of this pretty girl, and the less because they made her own daughters appear the more odious. She employed her in the meanest work of the house. She scoured the dishes, tables, etc., and cleaned madam's chamber, and those of misses, her daughters. She slept in a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed, while her sisters slept in fine rooms, with floors all inlaid, on beds of the very newest fashion, and where they had looking glasses so large that they could see themselves at their full length from head to foot. The poor girl bore it all patiently, and dared not tell her father, who would have scolded her; for his wife governed him entirely. When she had done her work, she used to go to the chimney corner, and sit down there in the cinders and ashes, which caused her to be called Cinderwench. Only the younger sister, who was not so rude and uncivil as the older one, called her Cinderella. However, Cinderella, notwithstanding her coarse apparel, was a hundred times more beautiful than her sisters, although they were always dressed very richly. It happened that the king's son gave a ball, and invited all persons of fashion to it. Our young misses were also invited, for they cut a very grand figure among those of quality. They were mightily delighted at this invitation, and wonderfully busy in selecting the gowns, petticoats, and hair dressing that would best become them. This was a new difficulty for Cinderella; for it was she who ironed her sister's linen and pleated their ruffles. They talked all day long of nothing but how they should be dressed. 'For my part,' said the eldest, 'I will wear my red velvet suit with French trimming.' 'And I,' said the youngest, 'shall have my usual petticoat; but then, to make amends for that, I will put on my gold-flowered cloak, and my diamond stomacher, which is far from being the most ordinary one in the world.' They sent for the best hairdresser they could get to make up their headpieces and adjust their hairdos, and they had their red brushes and patches from Mademoiselle de la Poche. They also consulted Cinderella in all these matters, for she had excellent ideas, and her advice was always good. Indeed, she even offered her services to fix their hair, which they very willingly accepted. As she was doing this, they said to her, 'Cinderella, would you not like to go to the ball?' 'Alas!' said she, 'you only jeer me; it is not for such as I am to go to such a place.' 'You are quite right,' they replied. 'It would make the people laugh to see a Cinderwench at a ball.' Anyone but Cinderella would have fixed their hair awry, but she was very good, and dressed them perfectly well. They were so excited that they hadn't eaten a thing for almost two days. Then they broke more than a dozen laces trying to have themselves laced up tightly enough to give them a fine slender shape. They were continually in front of their looking glass. At last the happy day came. They went to court, and Cinderella followed them with her eyes as long as she could. When she lost sight of them, she started to cry. Her godmother, who saw her all in tears, asked her what was the matter. 'I wish I could. I wish I could.' She was not able to speak the rest, being interrupted by her tears and sobbing. This godmother of hers, who was a fairy, said to her, 'You wish that you could go to the ball; is it not so?' 'Yes,' cried Cinderella, with a great sigh. 'Well,' said her godmother, 'be but a good girl, and I will contrive that you shall go.' Then she took her into her chamber, and said to her, 'Run into the garden, and bring me a pumpkin.' Cinderella went immediately to gather the finest she could get, and brought it to her godmother, not being able to imagine how this pumpkin could help her go to the ball. Her godmother scooped out all the inside of it, leaving nothing but the rind. Having done this, she struck the pumpkin with her wand, and it was instantly turned into a fine coach, gilded all over with gold. She then went to look into her mousetrap, where she found six mice, all alive, and ordered Cinderella to lift up a little the trapdoor. She gave each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her wand, and the mouse was that moment turned into a fine horse, which altogether made a very fine set of six horses of a beautiful mouse colored dapple gray. Being at a loss for a coachman, Cinderella said, 'I will go and see if there is not a rat in the rat trap that we can turn into a coachman.' 'You are right,' replied her godmother, 'Go and look.' Cinderella brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats. The fairy chose the one which had the largest beard, touched him with her wand, and turned him into a fat, jolly coachman, who had the smartest whiskers that eyes ever beheld. After that, she said to her, 'Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the watering pot. Bring them to me.' She had no sooner done so but her godmother turned them into six footmen, who skipped up immediately behind the coach, with their liveries all bedaubed with gold and silver, and clung as close behind each other as if they had done nothing else their whole lives. The fairy then said to Cinderella, 'Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with; are you not pleased with it?' 'Oh, yes,' she cried; 'but must I go in these nasty rags?' Her godmother then touched her with her wand, and, at the same instant, her clothes turned into cloth of gold and silver, all beset with jewels. This done, she gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the whole world. Being thus decked out, she got up into her coach; but her godmother, above all things, commanded her not to stay past midnight, telling her, at the same time, that if she stayed one moment longer, the coach would be a pumpkin again, her horses mice, her coachman a rat, her footmen lizards, and that her clothes would become just as they were before. She promised her godmother to leave the ball before midnight; and then drove away, scarcely able to contain herself for joy. The king's son, who was told that a great princess, whom nobody knew, had arrived, ran out to receive her. He gave her his hand as she alighted from the coach, and led her into the hall, among all the company. There was immediately a profound silence. Everyone stopped dancing, and the violins ceased to play, so entranced was everyone with the singular beauties of the unknown newcomer. Nothing was then heard but a confused noise of, 'How beautiful she is! How beautiful she is!' The king himself, old as he was, could not help watching her, and telling the queen softly that it was a long time since he had seen so beautiful and lovely a creature. All the ladies were busied in considering her clothes and headdress, hoping to have some made next day after the same pattern, provided they could find such fine materials and as able hands to make them. The king's son led her to the most honorable seat, and afterwards took her out to dance with him. She danced so very gracefully that they all more and more admired her. A fine meal was served up, but the young prince ate not a morsel, so intently was he busied in gazing on her. She went and sat down by her sisters, showing them a thousand civilities, giving them part of the oranges and citrons which the prince had presented her with, which very much surprised them, for they did not know her. While Cinderella was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike eleven and three-quarters, whereupon she immediately made a courtesy to the company and hurried away as fast as she could. Arriving home, she ran to seek out her godmother, and, after having thanked her, she said she could not but heartily wish she might go to the ball the next day as well, because the king's son had invited her. As she was eagerly telling her godmother everything that had happened at the ball, her two sisters knocked at the door, which Cinderella ran and opened. 'You stayed such a long time!' she cried, gaping, rubbing her eyes and stretching herself as if she had been sleeping; she had not, however, had any manner of inclination to sleep while they were away from home. 'If you had been at the ball,' said one of her sisters, 'you would not have been tired with it. The finest princess was there, the most beautiful that mortal eyes have ever seen. She showed us a thousand civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons.' Cinderella seemed very indifferent in the matter. Indeed, she asked them the name of that princess; but they told her they did not know it, and that the king's son was very uneasy on her account and would give all the world to know who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied, 'She must, then, be very beautiful indeed; how happy you have been! Could not I see her? Ah, dear Charlotte, do lend me your yellow dress which you wear every day.' 'Yes, to be sure!' cried Charlotte; 'lend my clothes to such a dirty Cinderwench as you are! I should be such a fool.' Cinderella, indeed, well expected such an answer, and was very glad of the refusal; for she would have been sadly put to it, if her sister had lent her what she asked for jestingly. The next day the two sisters were at the ball, and so was Cinderella, but dressed even more magnificently than before. The king's son was always by her, and never ceased his compliments and kind speeches to her. All this was so far from being tiresome to her, and, indeed, she quite forgot what her godmother had told her. She thought that it was no later than eleven when she counted the clock striking twelve. She jumped up and fled, as nimble as a deer. The prince followed, but could not overtake her. She left behind one of her glass slippers, which the prince picked up most carefully. She reached home, but quite out of breath, and in her nasty old clothes, having nothing left of all her finery but one of the little slippers, the mate to the one that she had dropped. The guards at the palace gate were asked if they had not seen a princess go out. They replied that they had seen nobody leave but a young girl, very shabbily dressed, and who had more the air of a poor country wench than a gentlewoman. When the two sisters returned from the ball Cinderella asked them if they had been well entertained, and if the fine lady had been there. They told her, yes, but that she hurried away immediately when it struck twelve, and with so much haste that she dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the world, which the king's son had picked up; that he had done nothing but look at her all the time at the ball, and that most certainly he was very much in love with the beautiful person who owned the glass slipper. What they said was very true; for a few days later, the king's son had it proclaimed, by sound of trumpet, that he would marry her whose foot this slipper would just fit. They began to try it on the princesses, then the duchesses and all the court, but in vain; it was brought to the two sisters, who did all they possibly could to force their foot into the slipper, but they did not succeed. Cinderella, who saw all this, and knew that it was her slipper, said to them, laughing, 'Let me see if it will not fit me.' Her sisters burst out laughing, and began to banter with her. The gentleman who was sent to try the slipper looked earnestly at Cinderella, and, finding her very handsome, said that it was only just that she should try as well, and that he had orders to let everyone try. He had Cinderella sit down, and, putting the slipper to her foot, he found that it went on very easily, fitting her as if it had been made of wax. Her two sisters were greatly astonished, but then even more so, when Cinderella pulled out of her pocket the other slipper, and put it on her other foot. Then in came her godmother and touched her wand to Cinderella's clothes, making them richer and more magnificent than any of those she had worn before. And now her two sisters found her to be that fine, beautiful lady whom they had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg pardon for all the ill treatment they had made her undergo. Cinderella took them up, and, as she embraced them, said that she forgave them with all her heart, and wanted them always to love her. She was taken to the young prince, dressed as she was. He thought she was more charming than before, and, a few days after, married her. Cinderella, who was no less good than beautiful, gave her two sisters lodgings in the palace, and that very same day matched them with two great lords of the court.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,"Conkiajgharuna, the Little Rag Girl",Georgia,"Wardrop's heroine and the story itself are both named 'Conkiajgharuna,' which means 'the little girl in rags.' This story combines important motifs from type 480 ('Frau Holle') and type 510A ('Cinderella').",NA,"Some time passed, and his wife died. He was unhappy before, but now a greater misfortune had befallen him. He grieved and grieved, and at last he said to himself, 'I will go and take another wife; she will mind the house, and tend my orphan child.' So he arose and took a second wife, but this wife brought with her a daughter of her own. When this woman came into her husband's house and saw his child, she was angry in heart. She treated Little Rag Girl badly. She petted her own daughter, but scolded her stepdaughter, and tried to get rid of her. Every day she gave her a piece of badly cooked bread, and sent her out to watch the cow, saying, 'Here is a loaf; eat of it, give to every wayfarer, and bring the loaf home whole.' The girl went, and felt very miserable. Once she was sitting sadly in the field, and began to weep bitterly. The cow listened, and then opened its mouth, and said, 'Why are you weeping? What troubles you?' The girl told her sad tale. The cow said, 'In one of my horns is honey, and in the other is butter, which you can take if you want to, so why be unhappy?' The girl took the butter and the honey, and in a short time she grew plump. When the stepmother noticed this she did not know what to do for rage. She rose, and after that every day she gave her a basket of wool with her; this wool was to be spun and brought home in the evening finished. The stepmother wished to tire the girl out with toil, so that she should grow thin and ugly. Once when Little Rag Girl was tending the cow, it ran away onto a roof. [In some parts of the Caucasus the houses of the peasantry are built in the ground, and it is quite possible to walk onto a roof unwittingly. (Note by Wardrop)] She pursued it, and wished to drive it back to the road, but she dropped her spindle on the roof. Looking inside she saw an old woman seated, and said to her, 'Good mother, will you give me my spindle?' The old dame replied, 'I am not able, my child, come and take it yourself.' The old woman was a devi. The girl went in and was lifting up her spindle, when the old dame called out, 'Daughter, daughter, come and look at my head a moment. I am almost eaten up.' The girl came and looked at her head. She was filled with horror; all the worms in the earth seemed to be crawling there. The little girl stroked her head and removed some, and then said, 'You have a clean head. Why should I look at it?' This conduct pleased the old woman very much, and she said, 'When you leave here, go along such and such a road, and in a certain place you will see three springs -- one white, one black, and one yellow. Pass by the white and black, and put your head in the yellow and rinse it with your hands.' The girl did this. She went on her way, and came to the three springs. She passed by the white and black, and bathed her head with her hands in the yellow fountain. When she looked up she saw that her hair was quite golden, and her hands, too, shone like gold. In the evening, when she went home, her stepmother was filled with fury. After this she sent her own daughter with the cow. Perhaps the same good fortune would visit her! So Little Rag Girl stayed at home while her stepsister drove out the cow. Once more the cow ran onto the roof. The girl pursued it, and her spindle fell down. She looked in, and seeing the devi woman, called out, 'Dog of an old woman! Here! Come and give me my spindle!' The old woman replied, 'I am not able, child, come and take it yourself.' When the girl came near, the old woman said, 'Come, child, and look at my head.' The girl came and looked at her head, and cried out, 'Ugh! What a horrid head you have! You are a disgusting old woman!' The old woman said, 'I thank you, my child; when you go on your way you will see a yellow, a white, and a black spring. Pass by the yellow and the white springs, and rinse your head with your hands in the black one.' The girl did this. She passed by the yellow and white springs, and bathed her head in the black once. When she looked at herself she was black as an African, and on her head there was a horn. She cut it off again and again, but it grew larger and larger. She went home and complained to her mother, who was almost frenzied, but there was no help for it. Her mother said to herself, 'This is all the cow's fault, so it shall be killed.' This cow knew the future. When it learned that it was to be killed, it went to Little Rag Girl and said, 'When I am dead, gather my bones together and bury them in the earth. When you are in trouble come to my grave, and cry aloud, 'Bring my steed and my royal robes!'' Little Rag Girl did exactly as the cow had told her. When it was dead she took its bones and buried them in the earth. After this, some time passed. One holiday the stepmother took her daughter, and they went to church. She placed a trough in front of Little Rag Girl, spread a large measure of millet in the courtyard, and said, 'Before we come home from church fill this trough with tears, and gather up this millet, so that not one grain is left.' Then they went to church. Little Rag Girl sat down and began to weep. While she was crying a neighbor came in a said, 'Why are you in tears? What is the matter?' The little girl told her tale. The woman brought all the brood hens and chicken, and they picked up every grain of millet, then she put a lump of salt in the trough and poured water over it. 'There, child,' said she, 'there are your tears! Now go and enjoy yourself.' Little Rag Girl then thought of the cow. She went to its grave and called out, 'Bring me my steed and my royal robes!' There appeared at once a horse and beautiful clothes. Little Rag Girl put on the garments, mounted the horse, and went to the church. There all the folk began to stare at her. They were amazed at her grandeur. Her stepsister whispered to her mother when she saw her, 'This girl is very much like our Little Rag Girl!' Her mother smiled scornfully and said, 'Who would give that sun darkener such robes?' Little Rag Girl left the church before anyone else; she changed her clothes in time to appear before her stepmother in rags. On the way home, as she was leaping over a stream, in her haste she let her slipper fall in. A long time passed. Once when the king's horses were drinking water in this stream, they saw the shining slipper and were so afraid that they would drink no more water. The king was told that there was something shining in the stream, and that the horses were afraid. The king commanded his divers to find out what it was. They found the golden slipper, and presented it to the king. When he saw it, he commanded his viziers, saying, 'Go and seek the owner of this slipper, for I will wed none but her.' His viziers sought the maiden, but they could find no one whom the slipper would fit. Little Rag Girl's mother heard this, adorned her daughter, and placed her on a throne. Then she went and told the king that she had a daughter whose foot he might look at. It was exactly the model for the shoe. She put Little Rag Girl in a corner, with a big basket over her. When the king came into the house he sat down on the basket, in order to try on the slipper. Little Rag Girl took a needle and pricked the king from under the basket. He jumped up, stinging with pain, and asked the stepmother what she had under the basket. The stepmother replied, 'It is only a turkey I have there.' The king sat down on the basket again, and Little Rag Girl again stuck the needle into him. The king jumped up, and cried out, 'Lift the basket. I will see underneath!' The stepmother pleaded with him, saying, 'Do not blame me, your majesty, it is only a turkey, and it will run away.' But the king would not listen to her pleas. He lifted the basket up, and Little Rag Girl came forth, and said, 'This slipper is mine, and fits me well.' She sat down, and the king found that it was indeed a perfect fit. Little Rag Girl became the king's wife, and her shameless stepmother was left with a dry throat.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,"Fair, Brown, and Trembling",Ireland,"The motif of the false bride, which plays a prominent role in the latter part of this story is common in folktales. It is often an integral part of the following folktale types: Type 313 (The Girl Helps the Hero Flee) Type 403 (The Black and the White Bride) Type 408 (The Love of Three Oranges) Type 412 (The Girl Whose Soul Was in Her Necklace) Type 450 (Little Brother, Little Sister) Type 533 (The Goose Girl) Type 533* (The Snake Helper) Type 870B* (The True Bride Sews a Wedding Dress) Type 313 (The Girl Helps the Hero Flee) Type 403 (The Black and the White Bride) Type 408 (The Love of Three Oranges) Type 412 (The Girl Whose Soul Was in Her Necklace) Type 450 (Little Brother, Little Sister) Type 533 (The Goose Girl) Type 533* (The Snake Helper) Type 870B* (The True Bride Sews a Wedding Dress)",NA,"King Aedh Cúrucha lived in Tir Conal, and he had three daughters, whose names were Fair, Brown, and Trembling. Fair and Brown had new dresses, and went to church every Sunday. Trembling was kept at home to do the cooking and work. They would not let her go out of the house at all; for she was more beautiful than the other two, and they were in dread she might marry before themselves. They carried on in this way for seven years. At the end of seven years the son of the king of Omanya [the ancient Emania in Ulster] fell in love with the eldest sister. One Sunday morning, after the other two had gone to church, the old henwife came into the kitchen to Trembling, and said, 'It's at church you ought to be this day, instead of working here at home.' 'How could I go?' said Trembling. 'I have no clothes good enough to wear at church; and if my sisters were to see me there, they'd kill me for going out of the house.' 'I'll give you,' said the henwife, 'a finer dress than either of them has ever seen. And now tell me what dress will you have?' 'I'll have,' said Trembling, 'a dress as white as snow, and green shoes for my feet.' The henwife put on the cloak of darkness, clipped a piece from the old clothes the young woman had on, and asked for the whitest robes in the world and the most beautiful that could be found, and a pair of green shoes. That moment she had the robe and the shoes, and she brought them to Trembling, who put them on. When Trembling was dressed and ready, the henwife said, 'I have a honey-bird here to sit on your right shoulder, and a honey-finger to put on your left. At the door stands a milk-white mare, with a golden saddle for you to sit on, and a golden bridle to hold in your hand.' Trembling sat on the golden saddle; and when she was ready to start, the henwife said, 'You must not go inside the door of the church, and the minute the people rise up at the end of mass, do you make off, and ride home as fast as the mare will carry you.' When Trembling came to the door of the church there was no one inside who could get a glimpse of her but was striving to know who she was; and when they saw her hurrying away at the end of mass, they ran out to overtake her. But no use in their running; she was away before any man could come near her. From the minute she left the church till she got home, she overtook the wind before her, and outstripped the wind behind. She came down at the door, went in, and found the henwife had dinner ready. She put off the white robes, and had on her old dress in a twinkling. When the two sisters came home the henwife asked, 'Have you any news today from the church?' 'We have great news,' said they. 'We saw a wonderful, grand lady at the church door. The like of the robes she had we have never seen on woman before. It's little that was thought of our dresses beside what she had on; and there wasn't a man at the church, from the king to the beggar, but was trying to look at her and know who she was.' The sisters would give no peace till they had two dresses like the robes of the strange lady; but honey-birds and honey-fingers were not to be found. Next Sunday the two sisters went to church again, and left the youngest at home to cook the dinner. After they had gone, the henwife came in and asked, 'Will you go to church today?' 'I would go,' said Trembling, 'if I could get the going.' 'What robe will you wear?' asked the henwife. 'The finest black satin that can be found, and red shoes for my feet.' 'What color do you want the mare to be?' 'I want her to be so black and so glossy that I can see myself in her body.' The henwife put on the cloak of darkness, and asked for the robes and the mare. That moment she had them. When Trembling was dressed, the henwife put the honey-bird on her right shoulder and the honey-finger on her left. The saddle on the mare was silver, and so was the bridle. When Trembling sat in the saddle and was going away, the henwife ordered her strictly not to go inside the door of the church, but to rush away as soon as the people rose at the end of mass, and hurry home on the mare before any man could stop her. That Sunday the people were more astonished than ever, and gazed at her more than the first time; and all they were thinking of was to know who she was. But they had no chance; for the moment the people rose at the end of mass she slipped from the church, was in the silver saddle, and home before a man could stop her or talk to her. The henwife had the dinner ready. Trembling took off her satin robe, and had on her old clothes before her sisters got home. 'What news have you today?' asked the henwife of the sisters when they came from the church. 'Oh, we saw the grand strange lady again! And it's little that any man could think of our dresses after looking at the robes of satin that she had on! And all at church, from high to low, had their mouths open, gazing at her, and no man was looking at us.' The two sisters gave neither rest nor peace till they got dresses as nearly like the strange lady's robes as they could find. Of course they were not so good; for the like of those robes could not be found in Erin. When the third Sunday came, Fair and Brown went to church dressed in black satin. They left Trembling at home to work in the kitchen, and told her to be sure and have dinner ready when they came back. After they had gone and were out of sight, the henwife came to the kitchen and said, 'Well, my dear, are you for church today?' 'I would go if I had a new dress to wear.' 'I'll get you any dress you ask for. What dress would you like?' asked the henwife. 'A dress red as a rose from the waist down, and white as snow from the waist up; a cape of green on my shoulders; and a hat on my head with a red, a white, and a green feather in it; and shoes for my feet with the toes red, the middle white, and the backs and heels green.' The henwife put on the cloak of darkness, wished for all these things, and had them. When Trembling was dressed, the henwife put the honey-bird on her right shoulder and the honey-finger on her left, and placing the hat on her head, clipped a few hairs from one lock and a few from another with her scissors, and that moment the most beautiful golden hair was flowing down over the girl's shoulders. Then the henwife asked what kind of a mare she would ride. She said white, with blue and gold-colored diamond-shaped spots all over her body, on her back a saddle of gold, and on her head a golden bridle. The mare stood there before the door, and a bird sitting between her ears, which began to sing as soon as Trembling was in the saddle, and never stopped till she came home from the church. The fame of the beautiful strange lady had gone out through the world, and all the princes and great men that were in it came to church that Sunday, each one hoping that it was himself would have her home with him after mass. The son of the king of Omanya forgot all about the eldest sister, and remained outside the church, so as to catch the strange lady before she could hurry away. The church was more crowded than ever before, and there were three times as many outside. There was such a throng before the church that Trembling could only come inside the gate. As soon as the people were rising at the end of mass, the lady slipped out through the gate, was in the golden saddle in an instant, and sweeping away ahead of the wind. But if she was, the prince of Omanya was at her side, and, seizing her by the foot, he ran with the mare for thirty perches, and never let go of the beautiful lady till the shoe was pulled from her foot, and he was left behind with it in his had. She came home as fast as the mare could carry her, and was thinking all the time that the henwife would kill her for losing the shoe. Seeing her so vexed and so changed in the face, the old woman asked, 'What's the trouble that's on you now?' 'Oh! I've lost one of the shoes off my feet,' said Trembling. 'Don't mind that; don't be vexed,' said the henwife; 'maybe it's the best thing that ever happened to you.' Then Trembling gave up all the things she had to the henwife, put on her old clothes, and went to work in the kitchen. When the sisters came home, the henwife asked, 'Have you any news from the church?' 'We have indeed,' said they; 'for we saw the grandest sight today. The strange lady came again, in grander array than before. On herself and the horse she rode were the finest colors of the world, and between the ears of the horse was a bird which never stopped singing from the time she came till she went away. The lady herself is the most beautiful woman ever seen by man in Erin.' After Trembling had disappeared from the church, the son of the king of Omanya said to the other kings' sons, 'I will have that lady for my own.' They all said, 'You didn't win her just by taking the shoe off her foot, you'll have to win her by the point of the sword; you'll have to fight for her with us before you can call her your own.' 'Well,' said the son of the king of Omanya, 'when I find the lady that shoe will fit, I'll fight for her, never fear, before I leave her to any of you.' Then all the kings' sons were uneasy, and anxious to know who was she that lost the shoe; and they began to travel all over Erin to know could they find her. The prince of Omanya and all the others went in a great company together, and made the round of Erin; they went everywhere -- north, south, east, and west. They visited every place where a woman was to be found, and left not a house in the kingdom they did not search, to know could they find the woman the shoe would fit, not caring whether she was rich or poor, of high or low degree. The prince of Omanya always kept the shoe; and when the young women saw it, they had great hopes, for it was of proper size, neither large nor small, and it would beat any man to know of what material it was made. One thought it would fit her if she cut a little from her great toe; and another, with too short a foot, put something in the tip of her stocking. But no use, they only spoiled their feet, and were curing them for months afterwards. The two sisters, Fair and Brown, heard that the princes of the world were looking all over Erin for the woman that could wear the shoe, and every day they were talking of trying it on; and one day Trembling spoke up and said, 'Maybe it's my foot that the shoe will fit.' 'Oh, the breaking of the dog's foot on you! Why say so when you were at home every Sunday?' They were that way waiting, and scolding the younger sister, till the princes were near the place. The day they were to come, the sisters put Trembling in a closet, and locked the door on her. When the company came to the house, the prince of Omanya gave the shoe to the sisters. But though they tried and tried, it would fit neither of them. 'Is there any other young woman in the house?' asked the prince. 'There is,' said Trembling, speaking up in the closet; 'I'm here.' 'Oh! we have her for nothing but to put out the ashes,' said the sisters. But the prince and the others wouldn't leave the house till they had seen her; so the two sisters had to open the door. When Trembling came out, the shoe was given to her, and it fitted exactly. The prince of Omanya looked at her and said, 'You are the woman the shoe fits, and you are the woman I took the shoe from.' Then Trembling spoke up, and said, 'Do stay here till I return.' Then she went to the henwife's house. The old woman put on the cloak of darkness, got everything for her she had the first Sunday at church, and put her on the white mare in the same fashion. Then Trembling rode along the highway to the front of the house. All who saw her the first time said, 'This is the lady we saw at church.' Then she went away a second time, and a second time came back on the black mare in the second dress which the henwife gave her. All who saw her the second Sunday said, 'That is the lady we saw at church.' A third time she asked for a short absence, and soon came back on the third mare and in the third dress. All who saw her the third time said, 'That is the lady we saw at church.' Every man was satisfied, and knew that she was the woman. Then all the princes and great men spoke up, and said to the son of the king of Omanya, 'You'll have to fight now for her before we let her go with you.' 'I'm here before you, ready for combat,' answered the prince. Then the son of the king of Lochlin stepped forth. The struggle began, and a terrible struggle it was. They fought for nine hours; and then the son of the king of Lochlin stopped, gave up his claim, and left the field. Next day the son of the king of Spain fought six hours, and yielded his claim. On the third day the son of the king of Nyerfó fought eight hours, and stopped. The fourth day the son of the king of Greece fought six hours, and stopped. On the fifth day no more strange princes wanted to fight; and all the sons of kings in Erin said they would not fight with a man of their own land, that the strangers had had their chance, and as no others came to claim the woman, she belonged of right to the son of the king of Omanya. The marriage day was fixed, and the invitations were sent out. The wedding lasted for a year and a day. When the wedding was over, the king's son brought home the bride, and when the time came a son was born. The young woman sent for her eldest sister, Fair, to be with her and care for her. One day, when trembling was well, and when her husband was away hunting, the two sisters went out to walk; and when they came to the seaside, the eldest pushed the youngest sister in. A great whale came and swallowed her. The eldest sister came home alone, and the husband asked, 'Where is your sister?' 'She has gone home to her father in Ballyshannon; now that I am well, I don't need her.' 'Well,' said the husband, looking at her, 'I'm in dread it's my wife that has gone.' 'Oh! no,' said she; 'it's my sister Fair that's gone.' Since the sisters were very much alike, the prince was in doubt. That night he put his sword between them, and said, 'If you are my wife, this sword will get warm; if not, it will stay cold.' In the morning when he rose up, the sword was as cold as when he put it there. It happened when the two sisters were walking by the seashore, that a little cowboy was down by the water minding cattle, and saw Fair push Trembling into the sea; and next day, when the tide came in, he saw the whale swim up and throw her out on the sand. When she was on the sand she said to the cowboy, 'When you go home in the evening with the cows, tell the master that my sister Fair pushed me into the sea yesterday; that a whale swallowed me, and then threw me out, but will come again and swallow me with the coming of the next tide; then he'll go out with the tide, and come again with tomorrow's tide, and throw me again on the strand. The whale will cast me out thee times. I'm under the enchantment of this whale, and cannot leave the beach or escape myself. Unless my husband saves me before I'm swallowed the fourth time, I shall be lost. He must come and shoot the whale with a silver bullet when he turns on the broad of his back. Under the breast fin of the whale is a reddish-brown spot. My husband must hit him in that spot, for it is the only place in which he can be killed.' When the cowboy got home, the eldest sister gave him a draught of oblivion, and he did not tell. Next day he went again to the sea. The whale came and cast Trembling on shore again. She asked the boy, 'Did you tell the master what I told you to tell him?' 'I did not,' said he; 'I forgot.' 'How did you forget?' asked she. 'The woman of the house gave me a drink that made me forget.' 'Well, don't forget telling him this night; and if she gives you a drink, don't take it from her.' As soon as the cowboy came home, the eldest sister offered him a drink. He refused to take it till he had delivered his message and told all to the master. The third day the prince went down with his gun and a silver bullet in it. He was not long down when the whale came and threw Trembling upon the beach as the two days before. She had no power to speak to her husband till he had killed the whale. Then the whale went out, turned over once on the broad of his back, and showed the spot for a moment only. That moment the prince fired. He had but the one chance, and a short one at that; but he took it, and hit the spot, and the whale, mad with pain, made the sea all around red with blood, and died. That minute Trembling was able to speak, and went home with her husband, who sent word to her father what the eldest sister had done. The father came, and told him any death he chose to give her to give it. The prince told the father he would leave her life and death with himself. The father had her put out then on the sea in a barrel, with provisions in it for seven years. In time Trembling had a second child, a daughter. The prince and she sent the cowboy to school, and trained him up as one of their own children, and said, 'If the little girl that is born to us now lives, no other man in the world will get her but him.' The cowboy and the prince's daughter lived on till they were married. The mother said to her husband, 'You could not have saved me from the whale but for the little cowboy; on that account I don't grudge him my daughter.' The son of the king of Omanya and Trembling had fourteen children, and they lived happily till the two died of old age.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,Katie Woodencloak,Norway (Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe),Link to the tale in Norwegian: Kari Trestakk. This is a text from Projekt Runeberg.,NA,"Well, after a time he fell into war with another king, and went out to battle with his host, and then the stepmother thought she might do as she pleased; and so she both starved and beat the princess, and was after her in every hole and corner of the house. At last she thought everything too good for her, and turned her out to herd cattle. So there she went about with the cattle, and herded them in the woods and on the fells. As for food, she got little or none, and she grew thin and wan, and was always sobbing and sorrowful. Now in the herd there was a great dun bull, which always kept himself so neat and sleek, and often and often he came up to the princess, and let her pat him. So one day when she sat there, sad, and sobbing, and sorrowful, he came up to her and asked her outright why she was always in such grief. She answered nothing, but went on weeping. 'Ah!' said the bull, 'I know all about it quite well, though you won't tell me; you weep because the queen is bad to you, and because she is ready to starve you to death. But food you've no need to fret about, for in my left ear lies a cloth, and when you take and spread it out, you may have as many dishes as you please.' So she did that, took the cloth and spread it out on the grass, and lo! it served up the nicest dishes one could wish to have; there was wine too, and mead, and sweet cake. Well, she soon got up her flesh again, and grew so plump, and rosy, and white, that the queen and her scrawny chip of a daughter turned blue and yellow for spite. The queen couldn't at all make out how her stepdaughter got to look so well on such bad fare, so she told one of her maids to go after her in the wood, and watch and see how it all was, for she thought some of the servants in the house must give her food. So the maid went after her, and watched in the wood, and then she saw how the stepdaughter took the cloth out of the bull's ear, and spread it out, and how it served up the nicest dishes, which the stepdaughter ate and made good cheer over. All this the maid told the queen when she went home. And now the king came home from war, and had won the fight against the other king with whom he went out to battle. So there was great joy throughout the palace, and no one was gladder than the king's daughter. But the queen shammed sick, and took to her bed, and paid the doctor a great fee to get him to say she could never be well again unless she had some of the dun bull's flesh to eat. Both the king's daughter and the folk in the palace asked the doctor if nothing else would help her, and prayed hard for the bull, for everyone was fond of him, and they all said there wasn't that bull's match in all the land. But no; he must and should be slaughtered, nothing else would do. When the king's daughter heard that, she got very sorrowful, and went down into the byre to the bull. There, too, he stood and hung down his head, and looked so downcast that she began to weep over him. 'What are you weeping for?' asked the bull. So she told him how the king had come home again, and how the queen had shammed sick and got the doctor to say she could never be well and sound again unless she got some of the dun bull's flesh to eat, and so now he was to be slaughtered. 'If they get me killed first,' said the bull, 'they'll soon take your life too. Now, if you're of my mind, we'll just start off, and go away tonight.' ''Well, the princess thought it bad, you may be sure, to go and leave her father, but she thought it still worse to be in the house with the queen; and so she gave her word to the bull to come to him. At night, when all had gone to bed, the princess stole down to the byre to the bull, and so he took her on his back, and set off from the homestead as fast as ever he could. And when the folk got up at cockcrow next morning to slaughter the bull, why, he was gone; and when the king got up and asked for his daughter, she was gone too. He sent out messengers on all sides to hunt for them, and gave them out in all the parish churches; but there was no one who had caught a glimpse of them. Meanwhile, the bull went through many lands with the king's daughter on his back, and so one day they came to a great copper wood, where both the trees, and branches, and leaves, and flowers, and everything, were nothing but copper. But before they went into the wood, the bull said to the king's daughter, 'Now, when we get into this wood, mind you take care not to touch even a leaf of it, else it's all over both with me and you, for here dwells a troll with three heads who owns this wood.' No, bless her, she'd be sure to take care not to touch anything. Well, she was very careful, and leant this way and that to miss the boughs, and put them gently aside with her hands; but it was such a thick wood, 'twas scarce possible to get through; and so, with all her pains, somehow or other she tore off a leaf, which she held in her hand. 'AU! AU! what have you done now?' said the bull; 'there's nothing for it now but to fight for life or death; but mind you keep the leaf safe.' Soon after they got to the end of the wood, and a troll with three heads came running up. 'Who is this that touches my wood?' said the troll. 'It's just as much mine as yours,' said the bull. 'Ah!' roared the troll, 'we'll try a fall about that.' 'As you choose,' said the bull So they rushed at one another, and fought; and the bull he butted, and gored, and kicked with all his might and main; but the troll gave him as good as he brought, and it lasted the whole day before the bull got the mastery; and then he was so full of wounds, and so worn out, he could scarce lift a leg. Then they were forced to stay there a day to rest, and then the bull bade the king's daughter to take the horn of ointment which hung at the troll's belt, and rub him with it. Then he came to himself again, and the day after they trudged on again. So they traveled many, many days, until, after a long, long time, they came to a silver wood, where both the trees, and branches, and leaves, and flowers, and everything, were silvern. Before the bull went into the wood, he said to the king's daughter, 'Now, when we get into this wood, for heaven's sake mind you take good care; you mustn't touch anything, and not pluck off so much as one leaf, else it is all over both with me and you; for here is a troll with six heads who owns it, and him I don't think I should be able to master.' 'No,' said the king's daughter; 'I'll take good care and not touch anything you don't wish me to touch.' But when they got into the wood, it was so close and thick, they could scarce get along. She was as careful as careful could be, and leant to this side and that to miss the boughs, and put them on one side with her hands, but every minute the branches struck her across the eyes, and, in spite of all her pains, it so happened she tore off a leaf. 'AU! AU! what have you done now?' said the bull. 'There's nothing for it now but to fight for life and death, for this troll has six heads, and is twice as strong as the other, but mind you keep the leaf safe, and don't lose it.' Just as he said that, up came the troll. 'Who is this,' he said, 'that touches my wood?' 'It's as much mine as yours,' said the bull. 'That we'll try a fall about,' roared the troll 'As you choose,' said the bull, and rushed at the troll, and gored out his eyes, and drove his horns right through his body, so that the entrails gushed out; but the troll was almost a match for him, and it lasted three whole days before the bull got the life gored out of him. But then he, too, was so weak and wretched, it was as much as he could do to stir a limb, and so full of wounds, that the blood streamed from him. So he said to the king's daughter she must take the horn of ointment that hung at the troll's belt, and rub him with it. Then she did that, and he came to himself; but they were forced to stay there a week to rest before the bull had strength enough to go on. At last they set off again, but the bull was still poorly, and they went rather slow at first. So to spare time the king's daughter said as she was young and light of foot, she could very well walk, but she couldn't get leave to do that. No; she must seat herself up on his back again. So on they traveled through many lands a long time, and the king's daughter did not know in the least whither they went; but after a long, long time they came to a gold wood. It was so grand, the gold dropped from every twig, and all the trees, and boughs, and flowers, and leaves, were of pure gold. Here, too, the same thing happened as had happened in the silver wood and copper wood. The bull told the king's daughter she mustn't touch it for anything, for there was a troll with nine heads who owned it, and he was much bigger and stouter than both the others put together, and he didn't think he could get the better of him. No; she'd be sure to take heed not to touch it; that he might know very well. But when they got into the wood, it was far thicker and closer than the silver wood, and the deeper they went into it the worse it got. The wood went on getting thicker and thicker, and closer and closer; and at last she thought there was no way at all to get through it. She was in such an awful fright of plucking off anything, that she sat, and twisted and turned herself this way and that, and hither and thither, to keep clear of the boughs, and she put them on one side with her hands; but every moment the branches struck her across the eyes, so that she couldn't see what she was clutching at; and lo! before she knew how it came about, she had a gold apple in her hand. Then she was so bitterly sorry she burst into tears and wanted to throw it away; but the bull said she must keep it safe and watch it well, and comforted her as well as he could; but he thought it would be a hard tussle, and he doubted how it would go. Just then up came the troll with the nine heads, and he was so ugly, the king's daughter scarcely dared to look at him. 'Who is this that touches my wood?' he roared. 'It's just as much mine as yours,' said the bull. 'That we'll try a fall about,' roared the troll again. 'Just as you choose,' said the bull; and so they rushed at one another, and fought, and it was such a dreadful sight the king's daughter was ready to swoon away. The bull gored out the troll's eyes, and drove his horns through and through his body, till the entrails came tumbling out; but the troll fought bravely; and when the bull got one head gored to death, the rest breathed life into it again, and so it lasted a whole week before the bull was able to get the life out of them all. But then he was utterly worn out and wretched. He couldn't stir a foot, and his body was all one wound. He couldn't so much as ask the king's daughter to take the horn of ointment which hung at the troll's belt, and rub it over him. But she did it all the same, and then he came to himself by little and little; but they had to lie there and rest three weeks before he was fit to go on again. Then they set off at a snail's pace, for the bull said they had still a little farther to go, and so they crossed over many high hills and thick woods. So after a while they got upon the fells. 'Do you see anything?' asked the bull. 'No, I see nothing but the sky and the wild fell,' said the king's daughter. So when they climbed higher up, the fell got smoother, and they could see farther off. 'Do you see anything now?' asked the bull. 'Yes, I see a little castle far, far away,' said the princess. 'That's not so little though,' said the bull. After a long, long time, they came to a great cairn, where there was a spur of the fell that stood sheer across the way. 'Do you see anything now?' asked the bull. 'Yes, now I see the castle close by,' said the king's daughter, 'and now it is much, much bigger.' 'Thither you're to go,' said the bull. 'Right underneath the castle is a pigsty, where you are to dwell. When you come thither you'll find a wooden cloak, all made of strips of lath; that you must put on, and go up to the castle and say your name is Katie Woodencloak, and ask for a place. But before you go, you must take your penknife and cut my head off, and then you must flay me, and roll up the hide, and lay it under the wall of rock yonder, and under the hide you must lay the copper leaf, and the silvern leaf, and the golden apple. Yonder, up against the rock, stands a stick; and when you want anything, you've only got to knock on the wall of rock with that stick.' At first she wouldn't do anything of the kind; but when the bull said it was the only thanks he would have for what he had done for her, she couldn't help herself. So, however much it grieved her heart, she hacked and cut away with her knife at the big beast till she got both his head and his hide off, and then she laid the hide up under the wall of rock, and put the copper leaf, and the silvern leaf, and the golden apple inside it. So when she had done that, she went over to the pigsty, but all the while she went she sobbed and wept. There she put on the wooden cloak, and so went up to the palace. When she came into the kitchen she begged for a place, and told them her name was Katie Woodencloak. Yes, the cook said she might have a place -- she might have leave to be there in the scullery, and wash up, for the lassie who did that work before had just gone away. 'But as soon as you get weary of being here, you'll go your way too, I'll be bound.' No; she was sure she wouldn't do that. So there she was, behaving so well, and washing up so handily. The Sunday after there were to be strange guests at the palace, so Katie asked if she might have leave to carry up water for the prince's bath; but all the rest laughed at her, and said, 'What should you do there? Do you think the prince will care to look at you, you who are such a fright?' But she wouldn't give it up, and kept on begging and praying; and at last she got leave. So when she went up the stairs, her wooden cloak made such a clatter, the prince came out and asked, 'Pray, who are you?' 'Oh, I was just going to bring up water for your Royal Highness's bath,' said Katie. 'Do you think now,' said the prince, 'I'd have anything to do with the water you bring?' and with that he threw the water over her. So she had to put up with that, but then she asked leave to go to church; well, she got that leave too, for the church lay close by. But first of all she went to the rock, and knocked on its face with the stick which stood there, just as the bull had said. And straightway out came a man, who said, 'What's your will?' So the princess said she had got leave to go to church and hear the priest preach, but she had no clothes to go in. So he brought out a kirtle, which was as bright as the copper wood, and she got a horse and saddle beside. Now, when she got to the church, she was so lovely and grand, all wondered who she could be, and scarce one of them listened to what the priest said, for they looked too much at her. As for the prince, he fell so deep in love with her, he didn't take his eyes off her for a single moment. So, as she went out of church, the prince ran after her, and held the church door open for her; and so he got hold of one of her gloves, which was caught in the door. When she went away and mounted her horse, the prince went up to her again, and asked whence she came. 'Oh, I'm from Bath,' said Katie; and while the prince took out the glove to give it to her, she said: The prince had never seen the like of that glove, and went about far and wide asking after the land whence the proud lady, who rode off without her glove, said she came; but there was no one who could tell where 'Bath' lay. Next Sunday some one had to go up to the prince with a towel. 'Oh, may I have leave to go up with it?' said Katie. 'What's the good of your going?' said the others; 'you saw how it fared with you last time.' But Katie wouldn't give in; she kept on begging and praying, till she got leave; and then she ran up the stairs, so that her wooden cloak made a great clatter. Out came the prince, and when he saw it was Katie, he tore the towel out of her hand, and threw it into her face. 'Pack yourself off, you ugly troll,' he cried; 'do you think I'd have a towel which you have touched with your smutty fingers?' After that the prince set off to church, and Katie begged for leave to go too. They all asked what business she had at church -- she who had nothing to put on but that wooden cloak, which was so black and ugly. But Katie said the priest was such a brave man to preach, what he said did her so much good; and so at last she got leave. Now she went again to the rock and knocked, and so out came the man, and gave her a kirtle far finer than the first one; it was all covered with silver, and it shone like the silver wood; and she got besides a noble steed, with a saddlecloth broidered with silver, and a silver bit. So when the king's daughter got to the church, the folk were still standing about in the churchyard. And all wondered and wondered who she could be, and the prince was soon on the spot, and came and wished to hold her horse for her while she got off. But she jumped down, and said there was no need, for her horse was so well broke, it stood still when she bade it, and came when she called it. So they all went into church, but there was scarce a soul that listened to what the priest said, for they looked at her a deal too much; and the prince fell still deeper in love than the first time. When the sermon was over, and she went out of church. and was going to mount her horse, up came the prince again and asked her whence she came. 'Oh, I'm from Towelland,' said the king's daughter; and as she said that, she dropped her riding whip, and when the prince stooped to pick it up, she said: So away she was again; and the prince couldn't tell what had become of her. He went about far and wide, asking after the land whence she said she came, but there was no one who could tell him where it lay; and so the prince had to make the best he could of it. Next Sunday someone had to go up to the prince with a comb. Katie begged for leave to go up with it, but the others put her in mind how she had fared the last time, and scolded her for wishing to go before the prince -- such a black and ugly fright as she was in her wooden cloak. But she wouldn't leave off asking till they let her go up to the prince with his comb. So, when she came clattering up the stairs again, out came the prince, and took the comb, and threw it at her, and bade her be off as fast as she could. After that the prince went to church, and Katie begged for leave to go too. They asked again what business she had there, she who was so foul and black, and who had no clothes to show herself in. Might be the prince or some one else would see her, and then both she and all the others would smart for it; but Katie said they had something else to do than to look at her; and she wouldn't leave off begging and praying till they gave her leave to go. So the same thing happened now as had happened twice before. She went to the rock and knocked with the stick, and then the man came out and gave her a kirtle which was far grander than either of the others. It was almost all pure gold, and studded with diamonds; and she got besides a noble steed, with a gold broidered saddlecloth and a golden bit. Now when the king's daughter got to the church, there stood the priest and all the people in the churchyard waiting for her. Up came the prince running, and wanted to hold her horse, but she jumped off, and said, 'No; thanks -- there's no need, for my horse is so well broke, it stands still when I bid him.' So they all hastened into church, and the priest got into the pulpit, but no one listened to a word he said; for they all looked too much at her, and wondered whence she came; and the prince, he was far deeper in love than either of the former times. He had no eyes, or ears, or sense for anything, but just to sit and stare at her. So when the sermon was over, and the king's daughter was to go out of the church, the prince had got a firkin of pitch poured out in the porch, that he might come and help her over it; but she didn't care a bit -- she just put her foot right down into the midst of the pitch, and jumped across it; but then one of her golden shoes stuck fast in it, and as she got on her horse, up came the prince running out of the church, and asked whence she came. 'I'm from Combland,' said Katie. But when the prince wanted to reach her the gold shoe, she said: So the prince couldn't tell still what had become of her, and he went about a weary time all over the world asking for 'Combland,' but when no one could tell him where it lay, he ordered it to be given out everywhere that he would wed the woman whose foot could fit the gold shoe. So many came of all sorts from all sides, fair and ugly alike; but there was no one who had so small a foot as to be able to get on the gold shoe. And after a long, long time, who should come but Katie's wicked stepmother, and her daughter, too, and her the gold shoe fitted; but ugly she was, and so loathly she looked, the prince only kept his word sore against his will. Still they got ready the wedding feast, and she was dressed up and decked out as a bride; but as they rode to church, a little bird sat upon a tree and sang: And, sure enough, when they looked to it, the bird told the truth, for blood gushed out of the shoe. Then all the maids and women who were about the palace had to go up to try on the shoe, but there was none of them whom it would fit at all. 'But where's Katie Woodencloak?' asked the prince, when all the rest had tried the shoe, for he understood the song of birds very well, and bore in mind what the little bird had said. 'Oh, she! think of that!' said the rest; it's no good her coming forward. 'Why, she's legs like a horse.' 'Very true, I daresay,' said the prince; 'but since all the others have tried, Katie may as well try too.' 'Katie!' he bawled out through the door; and Katie came trampling upstairs, and her wooden cloak clattered as if a whole regiment of dragoons were charging up. 'Now, you must try the shoe on, and be a princess, you too,' said the other maids, and laughed and made game of her. So Katie took up the shoe, and put her foot into it like nothing, and threw off her wooden cloak; and so there she stood in her gold kirtle, and it shone so that the sunbeams glistened from her; and, lo! on her other foot she had the fellow to the gold shoe. So when the prince knew her again, he grew so glad, he ran up to her and threw his arms round her, and gave her a kiss; and when he heard she was a king's daughter, he got gladder still, and then came the wedding-feast; and so",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,Little Saddleslut,Greece,NA,NA,"The mother's spindle fell, and they left her alone. Again they sat down to spin, and again the mother's spindle fell, and again and yet again. 'Ah, well!' said they, 'let us eat her now!' 'No!' said the youngest, 'do not eat her; eat me, if flesh you will have.' But they would not; and two of them killed their mother and cooked her for eating. When they had sat down to make a meal of her, they said to the youngest, 'Come and eat too!' But she refused, and sat down on a saddle which the fowls were covering with filth, and wept, and upbraided them. Many a time they said to her, 'Come and eat!' but she would not; and when they had done eating, they all went away. Then the youngest, whom they called Little Saddleslut, gathered all the bones together and buried them underneath the grate, and smoked them every day with incense for forty days; and after the forty days were out, she went to take them away and put them in another place. And when she lifted up the stone, she was astonished at the rays of light which it sent forth, and raiment was found there, like unto the heavens and the stars, the spring with its flowers, the sea with its waves; and many coins of every kind; and she left them where she found them. Afterwards her sisters came and found her sitting on the saddle, and jeered at her. On Sunday her sisters went to church; then she, too, arose; she washed and attired herself, putting on the garment that was as the heavens with the stars, and went to church, taking with her a few gold pieces in her purse. When she went into the church all the people were amazed, and could not gaze upon her by reason of the brightness of her garments. When she left the church, the people followed her to see whither she went. Then she filled her hand with money from her bag and cast it in the way, and so she kept throwing it down all the way she went, so that they might not get near her. Then the crowd scrambled for the coins, and left her alone. And straightway she went into her house, and changed her clothes, and put on her old things, and sat down upon the saddle. Her sisters came home from church and said to her, 'Where are you, wretch? Come and let us tell you how there came into the church a maiden more glorious than the sun, who had such garments on as you could not look on, so brightly did they gleam and shine, and she strewed money on the way! Look, see what a lot we have picked up! Why did not you come too? Worse luck to you!' 'You are welcome to what you picked up; I don't want it,' said she. Next Sunday they went to church again, and she did the same. Then they went another Sunday, and just as she was flinging the money, she lost her shoe among the crowd, and left it behind her. Now the king's son was following her, but could not catch her, and only found her shoe. Then said he to himself, 'Whose ever foot this shoe exactly fits, without being either too large or too small, I will take her for my wife.' And he went to all the women he knew and tried it on, but could not manage to fit it. Then her sisters came to her and spoke as follows to her, 'You go and try; perhaps it will fit you!' 'Get away with you!' said she. 'Do you think he will put the shoe on me, and get it covered with filth? Do not make fun of me.' The prince had taken all the houses in turn, and so he came at length to the house of Little Saddleslut, and his servants told her to come and try on the shoe. 'Do not make fun of me,' she says. However she went down, and when the prince saw her, he knew the shoe was hers, and said to her, 'Do you try on the shoe.' And with the greatest ease she put it on, and it fitted her. Then said the prince to her, 'I will take you to wife.' 'Do not make fun of me,' she answered, 'so may your youth be happy!' 'Nay, but I will marry you,' said he, and he took her and made her his wife. Then she put on her fairest robes. When a little child was born to her, the sisters came to see it. And when she was helpless and alone they took her and put her into a chest, and carried her off and threw her into a river, and the river cast her forth upon a desert. There was a half-witted old woman there, and when she saw the chest, she thought to cut it up [for firewood] and took it away for that purpose. And when she had broken it open, and saw someone alive in it, she got up and made off. So the princess was left alone, and heard the wolves howling, and the swine and the lions, and she sat and wept and prayed to God, 'Oh God, give me a little hole in the ground that I may hide my head in it, and not hear the wild beasts,' and he gave her one. Again she said, 'Oh God, give me one a little larger, that I may get in up to my waist.' And he gave her one. And she besought him again a third time, and he gave her a cabin with all that she wanted in it; and there she dwelt, and whatever she said, her bidding was done forthwith. For instance, when she wanted to eat, she would say, 'Come, table with all that is wanted! Come food! Come spoons and forks, and all things needful,' and straightway they all got ready, and when she finished the would ask, 'Are you all there?' and they would answer, 'We are.' One day the prince came into the wilderness to hunt, and seeing the cabin he went to find out who was inside; and when he got there he knocked at the door. And she saw him and knew him from afar, and said, 'Who is knocking at the door?' 'It is I, let me in,' said he. 'Open, doors!' said she, and in a twinkling the doors opened and he entered. He went upstairs and found her seated on a chair. 'Good day to you,' said he. 'Welcome!' said she, and straightway all that was in the room cried out, 'Welcome!' 'Come chair!' she cried, and one came at once. 'Sit down,' she said to him and down he sat. And when she had asked him the reason of his coming, she bade him stay and dine, and afterwards depart. He agreed, and straightway she gave her orders: 'Come table with all the covers,' and forthwith they presented themselves, and he was sore amazed. 'Come basin,' she cried. 'Come jug, pour water for us to wash! Come food in ten courses!' and immediately all that she ordered made its appearance. Afterwards when the meal was ended, the prince tried to hide a spoon, and put it into his shoe; and when they rose from table, she said 'Table, have you all your covers?' 'Yes I have.' 'Spoons, are you all there?' 'All,' they said, except one which said 'I am in the prince's shoe.' Then she cried again, as though she had not heard, 'Are you all there, spoons and forks?' And as soon as the prince heard her he got rid of it on the sly and blushed. And she said to him 'Why did you blush? Don't be afraid. I am your wife.' Then she told him how she got there and how she fared. And they hugged and kissed each other, and she ordered the house to move and it did move. And when they came near the town all the world came out to see them. Then the prince gave orders for his wife's sisters to be brought before him, and they brought them and he hewed them in pieces. And so henceforward they lived happily, and may we live more happily still.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,Maria and the Golden Slipper,Philippines,"Fansler's source: 'Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She says that this is a Tagalog story, and was told to her when she was a little girl.'",NA,"One day Prince Malecadel wanted to get married, so he gave a ball, to which he invited all the ladies in his kingdom. He said that the most beautiful of all was to be his wife. When Damiana and Rosa knew that all the ladies were invited, they began to discuss what clothes they would wear to the ball; but poor Maria was in the river, washing the clothes. Maria was very sad and was weeping, for she had no clothes at all in which she could appear at the prince's fête. While she was washing, a crab approached her, and said, 'Why are you crying, Maria? Tell me the reason, for I am your mother.' Then Maria said to the crab, 'I am treated by my aunt (sic!) and sisters as a servant; and there will be a ball tonight, but I have no clothes to wear.' While she was talking to the crab, Juana came up. The stepmother was very angry with Maria, and ordered her to catch the crab and cook it for their dinner. Maria seized the crab and carried it to the house. At first she did not want to cook it, for she knew that it was her mother; but Juana whipped her so hard, that at last she was forced to obey. Before it was put in the earthen pot to be cooked, the crab said to Maria, 'Maria, don't eat my flesh, but collect all my shell after I am eaten, and bury the pieces in the garden near the house. They will grow into a tree, and you can have what you want if you will only ask the tree for it.' After her parents had eaten the flesh of the crab, Maria collected all its shell and buried it in the garden. At twilight she saw a tree standing on the very spot where she had buried the shell. When night came, Rosa and Damiana went to the ball, and Juana retired for the night as soon as her daughters were gone. When Maria saw that her aunt was sleeping, she went into the garden and asked the tree for what she wanted. The tree changed her clothes into very beautiful ones, and furnished her with a fine coach drawn by four fine horses, and a pair of golden slippers. Before she left, the tree said to her, 'You must be in your house before twelve o'clock. If you are not, your clothes will be changed into ragged, dirty ones again, and your coach will disappear.' After promising to remember the warning of the tree, Maria went to the ball, where she was received by the prince very graciously. All the ladies were astonished when they saw her; she was the most beautiful of all. Then she sat between her two sisters, but neither Rosa nor Damiana recognized her. The prince danced with her all the time. When Maria saw that it was half-past eleven, she bade farewell to the prince and all the ladies present, and went home. When she reached the garden, the tree changed her beautiful clothes back into her old ones, and the coach disappeared. Then she went to bed and to sleep. When her sisters came home, they told her of everything that had happened at the ball. The next night the prince gave another ball. After Rosa and Damiana had dressed themselves in their best clothes and gone, Maria again went to the garden to ask for beautiful clothes. This time she was given a coach drawn by five (?) horses, and again the tree warned her to return before twelve. The prince was delighted to see her, and danced with her the whole evening. Maria was so enchanted that she forgot to notice the time. While she was dancing, she heard the clock striking twelve. She ran as fast as she could down stairs and out the palace door, but in her haste she dropped one of her golden slippers. This night she had to walk home, and in her old ragged clothes, too. One of her golden slippers she had with her; but the other, which she had dropped at the door, was found by one of the guards, who gave it to the prince. The guard said that the slipper had been lost by the beautiful lady who ran out of the palace when the clock was striking twelve. Then the prince said to all the people present, 'The lady whom this slipper fits is to be my wife.' The next morning the prince ordered one of his guards to carry the slipper to every house in the city to see if its owner could be found. The first house visited was the one in which Maria lived. Rosa tried to put the slipper on her foot, but her foot was much too big. Then Damiana put it on her foot, but her foot was too small. The two sisters tried and tried again to make the slipper fit, but in vain. Then Maria told them that she would try, and see if the slipper would fit her foot; but her sisters said to her, 'Your feet are very dirty. This golden slipper will not go on your foot, for your feet are larger than ours.' And they laughed at her. But the guard who had brought the slipper said, 'Let her try. It is the prince's order that all shall try.' So he gave it to Maria. Then Maria put it on, and it fitted her foot exactly. She then drew the other slipper from underneath her dress, and put it on her other foot. When the two sisters saw the two slippers on Maria's feet, they almost fainted with astonishment. So Maria became the wife of the prince, and from that time on she was very dear to her sisters and aunt.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,Pepelyouga,Serbia,"Link to another translation of this tale, here titled 'Papalluga; or, The Golden Slipper': Serbian Folk-Lore: Popular Tales, selected and translated by Madam Csedomille Mijatovies, edited, with an introduction by W. Denton (London: W. Isbister and Company, 1874), pp. 59-66.",NA,"So saying the aged man disappeared, and the girls, bewildered by his words, and discussing the strange incident, approached near to the ravine which had suddenly become interesting to them. They peered curiously over the edge, as though expecting to see some unaccustomed sight, when suddenly the most beautiful of the maidens let her spindle drop from her hand, and before she could recover it, it was bounding from rock to rock into the depths beneath. When she returned home that evening she found her worst fears realized, for her mother stood before the door transformed into a cow. A short time later her father married again. His new wife was a widow, and brought a daughter of her own into her new home. This girl was not particularly well favored, and her mother immediately began to hate her stepdaughter because of the latter's good looks. She forbade her henceforth to wash her face, to comb her hair or to change her clothes, and in every way she could think of she sought to make her miserable. One morning she gave her a bag filled with hemp, saying, 'If you do not spin this and make a fine top of it by tonight, you need not return home, for I intend to kill you.' The poor girl, deeply dejected, walked behind the cattle, industriously spinning as she went, but by noon when the cattle lay down in the shade to rest, she observed that she had made but little progress and she began to weep bitterly. Now, her mother was driven daily to pasture with the other cows, and seeing her daughter's tears she drew near and asked why she wept, whereupon the maiden told her all. Then the cow comforted her daughter, saying, 'My darling child, be consoled! Let me take the hemp into my mouth and chew it; through my ear a thread will come out. You must take the end of this and wind it into a top.' So this was done; the hemp was soon spun, and when the girl gave it to her stepmother that evening, she was greatly surprised. Next morning the woman roughly ordered the maiden to spin a still larger bag of hemp, and as the girl, thanks to her mother, spun and wound it all, her stepmother, on the following day, gave her twice the quantity to spin. Nevertheless, the girl brought home at night even that unusually large quantity well spun, and her stepmother concluded that the poor girl was not spinning alone, but that other maidens, her friends, were giving her help. Therefore she, next morning, sent her own daughter to spy upon the poor girl and to report what she saw. The girl soon noticed that the cow helped the poor orphan by chewing the hemp, while she drew the thread and wound it on a top, and she ran back home and informed her mother of what she had seen. Upon this, the stepmother insisted that her husband should order that particular cow to be slaughtered. Her husband at first hesitated, but as his wife urged him more and more, he finally decided to do as she wished. On learning what had been decided, the stepdaughter wept more than ever, and when her mother asked what was the matter, she told her tearfully all that had been arranged. Thereupon the cow said to her daughter, 'Wipe away your tears, and do not cry any more. When they slaughter me, you must take great care not to eat any of the meat, but after the repast, carefully collect my bones and inter them behind the house under a certain stone; then, should you ever be in need of help, come to my grave and there you will find it.' The cow was killed, and when the meat was served the poor girl declined to eat of it, pretending that she had no appetite; after the meal she gathered with great care all the bones and buried them on the spot indicated by her mother. Now, the name of the maiden was Marra, but, as she had to do the roughest work of the house, such as carrying water, washing, and sweeping, she was called by her stepmother and stepsister Pepelyouga (Cinderella). One Sunday, when the stepmother and her daughter had dressed themselves for church, the woman spread about the house the contents of a basktetful of millet, and said, 'Listen, Pepelyouga; if you do not gather up all this millet and have dinner ready by the time we return from church, I will kill you!' When they had gone, the poor girl began to weep, reflecting, 'As to the dinner I can easily prepare it, but how can I possibly gather up all this millet?' But that very moment she recalled the words of the cow, that, if she ever should be struck by misfortune, she need but walk to the grave behind the house, when she would find instant help there. Immediately she ran out, and, when she approached the grave, lo! a chest was lying on the grave wide open, and inside were beautiful dresses and everything necessary for a lady's toilet. Two doves were sitting on the lid of the chest, and as the girl drew near, they said to her, 'Marra, take from the chest the dress you like the best, clothe yourself, and go to church. As to the millet and other work, we ourselves will attend to that and see that everything is in good order!' Marra needed no second invitation; she took the first silk dress she touched, made her toilet, and went to church, where her entrance created quite a sensation. Everybody, men and women, greatly admired her beauty and her costly attire, but they were puzzled as to who she was, and where she came from. A prince happened to be in the church on that day, and he, too, admired the beautiful maiden. Just before the service ended, the girl stole from the church, went hurriedly home, took off her beautiful clothes and placed them back in the chest, which instantly shut and became invisible. She then rushed to the kitchen, where she discovered that the dinner was quite ready, and that the millet was gathered into the basket. Soon the stepmother came back with her daughter, and they were astounded to find the millet gathered up, dinner prepared, and everything else in order. A desire to learn the secret now began to torment the stepmother mightily. Next Sunday everything happened as before, except that the girl found in the chest a silver dress, and that the prince felt a greater admiration for her, so much so that he was unable, even for a moment to take his eyes from her. On the third Sunday, the mother and daughter again prepared to go to church, and, having scattered the millet as before, she repeated her previous threats. As soon as they disappeared, the girl ran straight to her mother's grave, where she found, as on the previous occasions, the open chest and the same two doves. This time she found a dress made of gold lace, and she hastily clad herself in it and went to church, where she was admired by all, even more than before. As for the czar's son, he had come with the intention not to let her this time out of his sight, but to follow and see where she went. Accordingly, as the service drew near to its close, and the maiden withdrew quietly as before, the enamored prince followed after her. Marra hurried along, for she had none too much time, and, as she went, one of her golden slippers came off, and she was too agitated to stop and pick it up. The prince, however, who had lost sight of the maiden, saw the slipper and put it in his pocket. Reaching home, Marra took off her golden dress, laid it in the chest, and rushed back to the house. The prince now resolved to go from house to house throughout his father's realm in search of the owner of the slipper, inviting all the fair maidens to try on the golden slipper. But, alas! his efforts seemed to be doomed to failure; for some girls the slipper was too long, for others too short, for others, again, too narrow. There was no one whom it would fit. Wandering from door to door, the sad prince at length came to the house of Marra's father. The stepmother was expecting him, and she had hidden her stepdaughter under a large trough in the courtyard. When the prince asked whether she had any daughters, the stepmother answered that she had but one, and she presented the girl to him. The prince requested the girl to try on the slipper, but, squeeze as she would, there was not room in it even for her toes! Thereupon the prince asked whether it was true that there were no other girls in the house, and the stepmother replied that indeed it was quite true. That very moment a cock flew onto the trough and crowed out lustily, 'Kook-oo-ryeh-koooo! Here she is under this very trough!' The stepmother, enraged, exclaimed, 'Sh! Go away! May an eagle seize you and fly off with you!' The curiosity of the prince was aroused. He approached the trough, lifted it up, and, to his great surprise, there was the maiden whom he had seen three times in church, clad in the very same golden dress she had last worn, and having only one golden slipper. When the prince recognized the maiden he was overcome with joy. Quickly he tried the slipper on her dainty foot. It not only fit her admirably, but it exactly matched the one she already wore on her left foot. He lifted her up tenderly and escorted her to his palace. Later he won her love, and they were happily married.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,Rashin-Coatie,Scotland,"Link to another version of this story, but one including an incest motif and thus categorized as a type 510B folktale: Rashen Coatie.",NA,"Once, a long time ago, there was a gentleman had two lassies. The oldest was ugly and ill natured, but the youngest was a bonnie lassie and good; but the ugly one was the favorite with her father and mother. So they ill used the youngest in every way, and they sent her into the woods to herd cattle, and all the food she got was a little porridge and whey. Well, amongst the cattle was a red calf, and one day it said to the lassie, 'Gee that porridge and whey to the doggie, and come wi' me.' So the lassie followed the calf through the wood, and they came to a bonnie hoosie, where there was a nice dinner ready for them; and after they had feasted on everything nice they went back to the herding. Every day the calf took the lassie away, and feasted her on dainties; and every day she grew bonnier. This disappointed the father and mother and the ugly sister. They expected that the rough usage she was getting would take away her beauty; and they watched and watched until they saw the calf take the lassie away to the feast. So they resolved to kill the calf; and not only that, but the lassie was to be compelled to kill him with an axe. Her ugly sister was to hold his head, and the lassie who loved him had to give the blow and kill him. She could do nothing but greet [weep]; but the calf told her not to greet, but to do as he bade her; and his plan was that instead of coming down on his head she was to come down on the lassie's head who was holding him, and then she was to jump on his back and they would run off. Well, the day came for the calf to be killed, and everything was ready -- the ugly lassie holding his head, and the bonnie lassie armed with the axe. So she raised the axe, and came down on the ugly sister's head; and in the confusion that took place she got on the calf's back and they ran away. And they ran and better nor ran till they came to a meadow where grew a great lot of rashes; and, as the lassie had not on many clothes, they pu'ed rashes, and made a coatie for her. And they set off again and traveled, and traveled, till they came to the king's house. They went in, and asked if they wanted a servant. The mistress said she wanted a kitchen lassie, and she would take Rashin-Coatie. So Rashin-Coatie said she would stop, if they keepit the calf too. They were willing to do that. So the lassie and the calf stoppit in the king's house, and everybody was well pleased with her; and when Yule came, they said she was to stop at home and make the dinner, while all the rest went to the kirk. After they were away the calf asked if she would like to go. She said she would, but she had no clothes, and she could not leave the dinner. The calf said he would give her clothes, and make the dinner too. He went out, and came back with a grand dress, all silk and satin, and such a nice pair of slippers. The lassie put on the dress, and before she left she said: So she went to the kirk, and nobody kent it was Rashin-Coatie. They wondered who the bonnie lady could be; and, as soon as the young prince saw her, he fell in love with her, and resolved he would find out who she was, before she got home; but Rashin-Coatie left before the rest, so that she might get home in time to take off her dress, and look after the dinner. When the prince saw her leaving, he made for the door to stop her; but she jumped past him, and in the hurry lost one of her shoes. The prince kept the shoe, and Rashin-Coatie got home all right, and the folk said the dinner was very nice. Now the prince was resolved to find out who the bonnie lady was, and he sent a servant through all the land with the shoe. Every lady was to try it on, and the prince promised to marry the one it would fit. That servant went to a great many houses, but could not find a lady that the shoe would go on, it was so little and neat. At last he came to a henwife's house, and her daughter had little feet. At first the shoe would not go on, but she paret her feet, and clippit her toes, until the shoes went on. Now the prince was very angry. He knew it was not the lady that he wanted; but, because he had promised to marry whoever the shoe fitted, he had to keep his promise. The marriage day came, and, as they were all riding to the kirk, a little bird flew through the air, and it sang: 'What's that ye say?' said the prince 'Oh,' says the henwife, 'would ye mind what a feel bird says?' But the prince said, 'Sing that again, bonnie birdie.' So the bird sings: The prince turned his horse and rode home, and went straight to his father's kitchen, and there sat Rashin-Coatie. He kent her at once, she was so bonnie; and when she tried on the shoe it fitted her, and so the prince married Rashin-Coatie, and they lived happy, and built a house for the red calf, who had been so kind to her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Baba Yaga,Russia (Aleksandr Afanasyev),Type 313H*. Ralston's source: Aleksandr Afanasyev.,NA,"Now that aunt was a Baba Yaga. Well, the girl was no fool, so she went to a real aunt of hers first, and says she, 'Good morning, auntie!' 'Good morning, my dear! What have you come for?' 'Mother has sent me to her sister, to ask for a needle and thread to make me a shift.' Then her aunt instructed her what to do. 'There is a birch tree there, niece, which would hit you in the eye -- you must tie a ribbon round it; there are doors which would creak and bang -- you must pour oil on their hinges; there are dogs which would tear you in pieces -- you must throw them these rolls; there is a cat which would scratch your eyes out -- you must give it a piece of bacon.' So the girl went away, and walked and walked, till she came to the place. There stood a hut, and in it sat weaving the Baba Yaga, the bony-shanks. 'Good morning, auntie,' says the girl. 'Good morning, my dear,' replies the Baba Yaga. ' Mother has sent me to ask you for a needle and thread to make me a shift.' 'Very well; sit down and weave a little in the meantime.' So the girl sat down behind the loom, and the Baba Yaga went outside, and said to her servant maid, 'Go and heat the bath, and get my niece washed; and mind you look sharp after her. I want to breakfast off her.' Well, the girl sat there in such a fright that she was as much dead as alive. Presently she spoke imploringly to the servant maid, saying, 'Kinswoman dear, do please wet the firewood instead of making it burn; and fetch the water for the bath in a sieve.' And she made her a present of a handkerchief. The Baba Yaga waited awhile; then she came to the window and asked, 'Are you weaving, niece? Are you weaving, my dear?' 'Oh yes, dear aunt, I'm weaving.' So the Baba Yaga went away again, and the girl gave the cat a piece of bacon, and asked, 'Is there no way of escaping from here?' 'Here's a comb for you and a towel,' said the cat; 'take them, and be off. The Baba Yaga will pursue you, but you must lay your ear on the ground, and when you hear that she is close at hand, first of all, throw down the towel. It will become a wide, wide river. And if the Baba Yaga gets across the river, and tries to catch you, then you must lay your ear on the ground again, and when you hear that she is close at hand, throw down the comb. It will become a dense, dense forest; through that she won't be able to force her way anyhow.' The girl took the towel and the comb and fled. The dogs would have rent her, but she threw them the rolls, and they let her go by; the doors would have begun to bang, but she poured oil on their hinges, and they let her pass through; the birch tree would have poked her eyes out, but she tied the ribbon around it, and it let her pass on. And the cat sat down to the loom, and worked away; muddled everything about, if it didn't do much weaving. Up came the Baba Yaga to the window, and asked, 'Are you weaving, niece? Are you weaving, my dear?' 'I'm weaving, dear aunt, I'm weaving,' gruffly replied the cat. The Baba Yaga rushed into the hut, saw that the girl was gone, and took to beating the cat, and abusing it for not having scratched the girl's eyes out. 'Long as I've served you,' said the cat, 'you've never given me so much as a bone; but she gave me bacon.' Then the Baba Yaga pounced upon the dogs, on the doors, on the birch tree, and on the servant maid, and set to work to abuse them all, and to knock them about. Then the dogs said to her, 'Long as we've served you, you've never so much as pitched us a burnt crust; but she gave us rolls to eat.' And the doors said, 'Long as we've served you, you've never poured even a drop of water on our hinges; but she poured oil on us.' The birch tree said, 'Long as I've served you, you've never tied a single thread around me; but she fastened a ribbon around me.' And the servant maid said, 'Long as I've served you, you've never given me so much as a rag; but she gave me a handkerchief.' The Baba Yaga, bony of limb, quickly jumped into her mortar, sent it flying along with the pestle, sweeping away the while all traces of its flight with a broom, and set off in pursuit of the girl. Then the girl put her ear to the ground, and when she heard that the Baba Yaga was chasing her, and was now close at hand, she flung down the towel. And it became a wide, such a wide river! Up came the Baba Yaga to the river, and gnashed her teeth with spite; then she went home for her oxen, and drove them to the river. The oxen drank up every drop of the river, and then the Baba Yaga began the pursuit anew. But the girl put her ear to the ground again, and when she heard that the Baba Yaga was near, she flung down the comb, and instantly a forest sprang up, such an awfully thick one! The Baba Yaga began gnawing away at it, but however hard she worked, she couldn't gnaw her way through it, so she had to go back again. But by this time the girl's father had returned home, and he asked, 'Where's my daughter?' 'She's gone to her aunt's,' replied her stepmother. Soon afterwards the girl herself came running home. ' Where have you been?' asked her father. 'Ah, father!' she said, 'mother sent me to aunt's to ask for a needle and thread to make me a shift. But aunt's a Baba Yaga, and she wanted to eat me!' 'And how did you get away, daughter?' 'Why like this,' said the girl, and explained the whole matter. As soon as her father had heard all about it, he became wroth with his wife, and shot her. But he and his daughter lived on and flourished, and everything went well with them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Broken Pitcher,England,Addy's source: 'From Sheffield.',NA,"And the fairy said, 'Why dost thou cry, little Orange?' Orange said, 'Because I have broken our pitcher, and mother will beat me.' 'Dry up thy tears,' said the fairy, 'and see, I live in the well and know all about you, and I will help you, because thou art such a good little girl, and so ill used.' Then the fairy struck the ground, and the pitcher came back out of the well sound and whole, and just as it was before, except that it had arms and legs. 'See,' said the fairy, 'this little pitcher shall always be thy friend, and now it will walk home with thee and carry the water itself. Go home now, tell it to nobody, and be a good little girl.' Having said this the fairy disappeared down the well. After this Orange soon dried up her tears, and, taking hold of the pitcher's hand, she and the pitcher walked home together. But when they got to the door of her mother's house the arms and legs of the pitcher were gone. Then Orange took the pitcher into the house, and, remembering what the fairy had said, told what had happened to nobody. The next morning Orange awoke very early, as she always did, and said to herself, 'How tired I shall be before night comes, for there is so much work to do in the house.' So she got up, and when she came downstairs she found the pitcher, with its arms and legs on, sweeping the kitchen and doing all the hard work, and ever after the pitcher was her faithful and helpful friend.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Cinder Maid,Europe (Joseph Jacobs),"This version of 'Cinderella' is Jacobs' 'reconstruction' of the story's original form, based on his analysis of the common features of hundreds of variants collected throughout Europe. Joseph Jacobs was born in 1854 in Australia. He immigrated in 1872 to England, graduated from Cambridge University, and became one of the best known folklorists of his era. In 1900 he immigrated to the United States, where he died in 1916.",NA,"Now there was among the nobles of the king's court one who had married twice, and by the first marriage he had but one daughter, and as she was growing up her father thought that she ought to have someone to look after her. So he married again, a lady with two daughters, and his new wife, instead of caring for his daughter, thought only of her own and favored them in every way. She would give them beautiful dresses but none to her stepdaughter who had only to wear the castoff clothes of the other two. The noble's daughter was set to do all the drudgery of the house, to attend the kitchen fire, and had naught to sleep on but the heap of cinder raked out in the scullery; and that is why they called her Cinder Maid. And no one took pity on her and she would go and weep at her mother's grave where she had planted a hazel tree, under which she sat. You can imagine how excited they all were when they heard the king's proclamation called out by the herald. 'What shall we wear, mother; what shall we wear?' cried out the two daughters, and they all began talking about which dress should suit the one and what dress should suit the other, but when the father suggested that Cinder Maid should also have a dress they all cried out, 'What, Cinder Maid going to the king's ball? Why, look at her, she would only disgrace us all.' And so her father held his peace. Now when the night came for the royal ball Cinder Maid had to help the two sisters to dress in their fine dresses and saw them drive off in the carriage with her father and their mother. But she went to her own mother's grave and sat beneath the hazel tree and wept and cried out: And with that the little bird on the tree called out to her: So Cinder Maid shook the tree and the first nut that fell she took up and opened, and what do you think she saw? -- a beautiful silk dress blue as the heavens, all embroidered with stars, and two little lovely shoon [shoes] made of shining copper. And when she had dressed herself the hazel tree opened and from it came a coach all made of copper with four milk-white horses, with coachman and footmen all complete. And as she drove away the little bird called out to her: When Cinder Maid entered the ballroom she was the loveliest of all the ladies, and the prince, who had been dancing with her stepsisters, would only dance with her. But as it came towards midnight Cinder Maid remembered what the little bird had told her and slipped away to her carriage. And when the prince missed her he went to the guards at the palace door and told them to follow the carriage. But Cinder Maid when she saw this, called out: And when the prince's soldiers tried to follow her there came such a mist that they couldn't see their hands before their faces. So they couldn't find which way Cinder Maid went. When her father and stepmother and two sisters came home after the ball they could talk of nothing but the lovely lady: 'Ah, would not you have like to have been there?' said the sisters to Cinder Maid as she helped them to take off their fine dresses. 'The was a most lovely lady with a dress like the heavens and shoes of bright copper, and the prince would dance with none but her; and when midnight came she disappeared and the prince could not find her. He is going to give a second ball in the hope that she will come again. Perhaps she will not, and then we will have our chance.' When the time of the second royal ball came round the same thing happened as before; the sisters teased Cinder Maid, saying 'Wouldn't you like to come with us?' and drove off again as before. And Cinder Maid went again to the hazel tree over her mother's grave and cried: And then the little bird on the tree called out: But this time she found a dress all golden brown like the earth embroidered with flowers, and her shoon were made of silver; and when the carriage came from the tree, lo and behold, that was made of silver too, drawn by black horses with trappings all of silver, and the lace on the coachman's and footmen's liveries was also of silver; and when Cinder Maid went to the ball the prince would dance with none but her; and when midnight cam round she fled as before. But the prince, hoping to prevent her running away, had ordered the soldiers at the foot of the staircase to pour out honey on the stairs so that her shoes would stick in it. But Cinder Maid leaped from stair to stair and got away just in time, calling out as the soldiers tried to follow her: And when her sisters got home they told her once more of the beautiful lady that had come in a silver coach and silver shoon and in a dress all embroidered with flowers: 'Ah, wouldn't you have like to have been there?' said they. Once again the prince gave a great ball in the hope that his unknown be3auty would come to it. All happened as before; as soon as the sisters had gone Cinder Maid went to the hazel tree over her mother's grave and called out: And then the little bird appeared and said: Cinder Maid, Cinder Maid, shake the tree, Open the first nut that you see. And when she opened the nut in it was a dress of silk green as the sea with waves upon it, and her shoes this time were made of gold; and when the coach came out of the tree it was also made of gold, with gold trappings for the horses and for the retainers. And as she drove off the little bird from the tree called out: Now this time, when Cinder Maid came to the ball, she was a desirous to dance only with the prince as he with her, and so, when midnight came round, she had forgotten to leave till the clock began to strike, one -- two -- three -- four -- five -- six, -- and then she began to run away down the stairs as the clock struck eight -- nine -- ten. But the prince had told his soldier to put tar upon the lower steps of the stairs; and as the clock struck eleven her shoes stuck in the tar, and when she jumped to the foot of the stairs one of her golden shoes was left behind, and just then the clock struck TWELVE, and the golden coach with its horses and footmen, disappeared, and the beautiful dress of Cinder Maid changed again into her ragged clothes and she had to run home with only one golden shoe. You can imagine how excited the sister were when they came home and told Cinder Maid all about it, how that the beautiful lady had come in a golden coach in a dress like the sea, with golden shoes, and how all had disappeared at midnight except the golden shoe. 'Ah, wouldn't you have liked to have been there?' said they. Now when the prince found out that he could not keep his lady-love nor trace where she had gone he spoke to his father and showed him the golden shoe, and told him that he would never marry anyone but the maiden who could wear that shoe. So the king, his father, ordered the herald to take round the golden shoe upon a velvet cushion and to go to every four corners where two streets met and sound the trumpet and call out, 'O yes, O yes, O yes, be it known unto you all that whatsoever lady of noble birth can fit this shoe upon her foot shall become the bride of his highness the prince and our future queen. God save the king.' And when the herald came to the house of Cinder Maid's father the eldest of her two stepsisters tried on the golden shoe, But it was much too small for her, as it was for every other lady that had tried it up to that time; but she went up into her room and with a sharp knife cut off one of her toes and part of her heel, and then fitted her foot into the shoe, and when she came down she shoed it to the herald, who sent a message to the palace saying that the lady had been found who could wear the golden shoe. Thereupon the prince jumped at once upon his horse and rode to the house of Cinder Maid's father. But when he saw the stepsister with the golden shoe, 'Ah,' he said, 'but this is not the lady.' 'But,' she said, 'you promised to marry the one that could wear the golden shoe,' And the prince could say nothing, but offered to take her on his horse to his father's palace, for in those days ladies used to ride on a pillion at the back of the gentleman riding on horseback. Now as they were riding towards the palace her foot began to drip with blood, and the little bird from the hazel tree that had followed them called out: And the prince looked down and saw the blood streaming from her shoe and then he knew that this was not his true bride, and he rode back to the house of Cinder Maid's father; and then the second sister tried her chance; but when she found that her foot wouldn't fit the shoe she did the same as her sister, but all happed as before. The little bird called out: And the prince took her back to her mother's house, and then he asked, 'Have you no other daughter?' and the sisters cried out, 'No, sir.' But the father said, 'Yes, I have another daughter. And the sisters cried out, 'Cinder Maid, Cinder Maid, she could not wear that shoe.' But the prince said, 'As she is of noble birth she has a right to try the shoe.' So the herald went down to the kitchen and found cinder Maid; and when she saw her golden shoe she took it from him and put it on her foot, which it fitted exactly; and then she took the other golden shoe from underneath the cinders where she had hidden it and put that on too. Then the herald knew that she was the true bride of his master; and her took her upstairs to where the prince was; when he saw her face, he knew that she was the lady of his love. So he took her behind him upon his horse; and as they rode to the palace the little bird from the hazel tree cried out: And so they were married and lived happy ever afterwards.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Hearth-Cat,Portugal,This tale combines elements of type 480 'The Kind and the Unkind Girls' with type 510A 'Cinderella.',NA,"The girl went home to ask her father to marry her schoolmistress, as she would then give her porridge made with honey. To this request the father replied that he would not marry her, for he well knew that though she said now that she would give her porridge made with honey, later on she would give her porridge with gall. Yet, as the child began to cry, begging her father to consent, the father, who loved his child very much, in order to comfort her, replied that he would order a pair of boots to be made of iron, and hang them up until the boots would rust to pieces with age, when he would marry the mistress. The little girl, very pleased to hear this, went immediately to tell the mistress, who then instructed her pupil to wet the boots every day. The little girl did so, and after a while the boots fell to pieces, and she went and told her father of it. He then said that he would marry the mistress, and on the following day married her. So long as the father was at home the child was treated with kindness and affection, but the moment he went out the mistress was very unkind to her, and treated her badly. She one day sent her to graze a cow, and gave her a loaf, which she desired her to bring back whole, and an earthen pot with water, out of which she expected her to drink, and yet was to bring back full. One day the mistress told the girl that she wished her to employ herself in winding some skeins of thread until the evening. The little girl went away crying and bewailing her lot; but the cow comforted her, and told her not to be distressed, -- to fix the skein on her horns and unravel the thread. The good cow after that took out all the crumb from the loaf by making a small hole with one of her horns, and then stopped the aperture, and gave the girl the loaf back again entire. In the evening the girl returned home. When her stepmother saw that she had finished her task, and brought all the thread ready wound, she was very vexed and wanted to beat her, saying that she was sure the cow had had something to do with it, and next day ordered the animal to be killed. At this the girl began to cry very bitterly, but the step-mother told her that she would have to clean and wash the cow's entrails in a tank they had, however grieved she might feel for the loss of the animal. The cow, however, again told the girl not to be troubled, but to go and wash her entrails, but was to be careful to save whatever she saw come out of them. The girl did so, and when she was cleaning them she saw a ball of gold come out and fall into the water. The girl went into the tank to search for it, and there she saw a house with everything in it in disorder, and she began to arrange and make the house look tidy. She suddenly heard footsteps, and in her hurry she hid herself behind the door. The fairies entered and began to look about, and a dog came in also with them, and went up to where she was and began to bark, saying: 'Bow, bow, bow, behind the door hides somebody who did us good, and will yet render us more services. Bow, bow, bow, behind the door hides somebody who has done us good, and will yet render us more services.' The fairies, as they searched about, hearing the dog bark, discovered where the girl was hiding, and began to say to her, 'We endow you by the power we possess with the gift of beauty, making you the most lovely maiden ever seen.' The next fairy then said, 'I cast a sweet spell over you, so that when you open } our mouth to speak, pearls and gold shall drop from your lips.' The third fairy coming forward said, 'I endow you with every blessing, making you the happiest maiden in the world. Take this wand, it will grant you whatever you may ask.' The girl then left the enchanted region, and returned home, and as soon as the mistress's daughter saw her approach she commenced to cry out to her mother to come quickly and see the hearth-cat, who had come back at last. The mistress ran to greet her, and asked her where and what she had been doing all that time. The girl related the contrary of what she had seen, as the fairies had instructed her to do: that she had found a tidy house, and that she had disarranged everything in it, to make it look untidy. The mistress sent her own daughter there, and she had hardly arrived at the house when she began at once to do as her half-sister had told her; she disarranged everything, to make the house look untidy and uncared for. And when she heard the fairies coming in she hid behind the door. The little dog saw her, and barking at her said, 'Behind the door stands one who has done us much harm, and will still continue to molest us. Bow, bow, bow, behind the door stands one who has done us much harm, and will continue to molest us on the first opportunity.' The fairies hearing this approached her, and one began to say, 'I throw a spell over you which will render you the ugliest maid that can be found.' The next one took up the word and said, 'I bewitch you, so that when you attempt to speak all manner of filth shall fall out of your mouth.' And the third fairy said, 'I also bewitch you, and you shall become the poorest and most wretched maid in existence.' The mistress's daughter returned home, thinking she was looking quite a beauty; but when she came up close to her mother, and began to speak, the mother burst out crying on seeing her own daughter so disfigured and wretched. Full of rage, she sent her step-daughter to the kitchen, saying, that she was the hearth-cat, and that she should take care that she kept there, as the only place which was fit for her. On a certain day the mistress and her daughter repaired to some races which were then taking place, but when the girl saw that they had left the house, she asked her divining rod to give her a very handsome dress, boots, a hat, and everything complete. She dressed and adorned herself with all she had, and went to the races, and stood in front of the royal stand. The mistress's daughter instantly saw her, and began to exclaim and cry out at the top of her voice, in the midst of all the people present, saying, 'Oh! mother, mother, that beautiful maiden over there is our very hearth-cat.' The mother, to quiet her, told her to be calm; that the maiden was not her step-sister, as she had remained at home under lock and key. The races were hardly over when the girl departed home; but the king, who had seen her, was in love with her. The moment the mother reached home she asked the hearth-cat whether she had been out. She replied, that she had not; and showed her face besmeared with smut. Next day the girl asked the wand to strike and give her another dress which would be more splendid than the previous one. She put on her things and repaired to the races. The moment the king perceived her he felt very pleased indeed; but the races were hardly concluded than she retired in haste, and went into her carriage and drove home, leaving the king more in love than ever with her. The third day the girl asked the divining rod to give her a garment which should surpass the other two in richness and beauty, and other shoes; and she went and attended the races. When the king saw her, he was delighted, but was again disappointed to see her depart before the races were concluded. In her hurry to enter her carriage quickly, she let fall one of her slippers. The king picked it up and returned to the palace, and fell lovesick. The slipper had some letters upon it which said, 'This shoe will only fit its owner.' The whole kingdom was searched to find the lady whose foot would be found to fit the slipper exactly, yet no one was found. The schoolmistress went to the palace to try the slipper on, but all her efforts were in vain. After her, her daughter followed, and endeavored her best to fit the slipper on, but with no better success. There only remained the hearthcat. The king inquired who was the next to try on the slipper, and asked the mistress if there was any other lady left in her house who could fit on the slipper. The schoolmistress then said that there only remained a hearth-cat in her house, but that she had never worn such a slipper. The king ordered the girl to be brought to the palace, and the mistress had no alternative but to do so. The king himself insisted on trying the slipper on the girl's foot, and the moment she put her little foot into the slipper and drew it on, it fitted exactly. The king then arranged that she should remain in the palace and married her. And he ordered the mistress and her daughter to be put to death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Indian Cinderella,NA,NA,NA,"Strong Wind used a clever trick to test the truthfulness of all who sought to win him. Each evening as the day went down, his sister walked on the beach with any girl who wished to make the trial. His sister could always see him, but no one else could see him. And as he came home from work in the twilight, his sister as she saw him drawing near would ask the girl who sought him, 'Do you see him?' And each girl would falsely answer 'Yes.' And his sister would ask, 'With what does he draw his sled?' And each girl would answer, 'With the hide of a moose,' or 'With a pole,' or 'With a great cord.' And then his sister would know that they all had lied, for their answers were mere guesses. And many tried and lied and failed, for Strong Wind would not marry any who were untruthful. There lived in the village a great chief who had three daughters. Their mother had long been dead. One of these was much younger than the others. She was very beautiful and gentle and well beloved by all, and for that reason her older sisters were very jealous of her charms and treated her very cruelly. They clothed her in rags that she might be ugly; and they cut off her long black hair; and they burned her face with coals from the fire that she might be scarred and disfigured. And they lied to their father, telling him that she had done these things herself. But the young girl was patient and kept her gentle heart and went gladly about her work. Like other girls, the chief's two eldest daughters tried to win Strong Wind. One evening, as the day went down, they walked on the shore with Strong Wind's sister and waited for his coming. Soon he came home from his day's work, drawing his sled. And his sister asked as usual, 'Do you see him?' And each one, lying, answered 'Yes.' And she asked, 'Of what is his shoulder strap made?' And each, guessing, said 'Of rawhide.' Then they entered the tent where they hoped to see Strong Wind eating his supper; and when he took off his coat and his moccasins they could see them, but more than these they saw nothing. And Strong Wind knew that they had lied, and he kept himself from their sight, and they went home dismayed. One day the chief's youngest daughter with her rags and her burnt face resolved to seek Strong Wind. She patched her clothes with bits of birch bark from the trees, and put on the few little ornaments she possessed, and went forth to try to see the Invisible One as all the other girls of the village had done before. And her sisters laughed at her and called her 'fool'; and as she passed along the road all the people laughed at her because of her tattered frock and her burnt face, but silently she went her way. Strong Wind's sister received the little girl kindly, and at twilight she took her to the beach. Soon Strong Wind came home drawing his sled. And his sister asked, 'Do you see him?' And the girl answered 'No,' and his sister wondered greatly because she spoke the truth. And again she asked, 'Do you see him now?' And the girl answered, 'Yes, and he is very wonderful.' And she asked, 'With what does he draw his sled?' And the girl answered, 'With the Rainbow,' and she was much afraid. And she asked further, 'Of what is his bowstring?' And the girl answered, 'His bowstring is the Milky Way.' Then Strong Wind's sister knew that because the girl had spoken the truth at first her brother had made himself visible to her. And she said, 'Truly, you have seen him.' And she took her home and bathed her, and all the scars disappeared from her face and body; and her hair grew long and black again like the raven's wing; and she gave her fine clothes to wear and many rich ornaments. Then she bade her take the wife's seat in the tent. Soon Strong Wind entered and sat beside her, and called her his bride. The very next day she became his wife, and ever afterwards she helped him to do great deeds. The girl's two elder sisters were very cross and they wondered greatly at what had taken place. But Strong Wind, who knew of their cruelty, resolved to punish them. Using his great power, he changed them both into aspen trees and rooted them in the earth. And since that day the leaves of the aspen have always trembled, and they shiver in fear at the approach of Strong Wind, it matters not how softly he comes, for they are still mindful of his great power and anger because of their lies and their cruelty to their sister long ago.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Poor Turkey Girl,Native American (Zuni),NA,NA,"In Mátsake, or the Salt City, there dwelt at this time many very wealthy families, who possessed large flocks of these birds, which it was their custom to have their slaves or the poor people of the town herd in the plains round about Thunder Mountain, below which their town stood, and on the mesas beyond. Now, in Mátsake at this time there stood, away out near the border of the town, a little tumble-down, single-room house, wherein there lived alone a very poor girl, -- so poor that her clothes were patched and tattered and dirty, and her person, on account of long neglect and ill-fare, shameful to look upon, though she herself was not ugly, but had a winning face and bright eyes; that is, if the face had been more oval and the eyes less oppressed with care. So poor was she that she herded turkeys for a living; and little was given to her except the food she subsisted on from day to day, and perhaps now and then a piece of old, worn-out clothing. Like the extremely poor everywhere and at all times, she was humble, and by her longing for kindness, which she never received, she was made kind even to the creatures that depended upon her, and lavished this kindness upon the turkeys she drove to and from the plains every day. Thus, the turkeys, appreciating this, were very obedient. They loved their mistress so much that at her call they would unhesitatingly come, or at her behest go whithersoever and whensoever she wished. One day this poor girl, driving her turkeys down into the plains, passed near Old Zuni, -- the Middle Ant Hill of the World, as our ancients have taught us to call our home, -- and as she went along, she heard the herald-priest proclaiming from the housetop that the Dance of the Sacred Bird (which is a very blessed and welcome festival to our people, especially to the youths and maidens who are permitted to join in the dance) would take place in four days. Now, this poor girl had never been permitted to join in or even to watch the great festivities of our people or the people in the neighboring towns, and naturally she longed very much to see this dance. But she put aside her longing, because she reflected: 'It is impossible that I should watch, much less join in the Dance of the Sacred Bird, ugly and ill-clad as I am.' And thus musing to herself, and talking to her turkeys, as was her custom, she drove them on, and at night returned them to their cages round the edges and in the plazas of the town. Every day after that, until the day named for the dance, this poor girl, as she drove her turkeys out in the morning, saw the people busy in cleaning and preparing their garments, cooking delicacies, and otherwise making ready for the festival to which they had been duly invited by the other villagers, and heard them talking and laughing merrily at the prospect of the coming holiday. So, as she went about with her turkeys through the day, she would talk to them, though she never dreamed that they understood a word of what she was saying. It seems that they did understand even more than she said to them, for on the fourth day, after the people of Mátsake had all departed toward Zuni, and the girl was wandering around the plains alone with her turkeys, one of the big gobblers strutted up to her, and making a fan of his tail, and skirts, as it were, of his wings, blushed with pride and puffed with importance, stretched out his neck and said: 'Maiden mother, we know what your thoughts are, and truly we pity you, and wish that, like the other people of Mátsake, you might enjoy this holiday in the town below. We have said to ourselves at night, after you have placed us safely and comfortably in our cages: 'Truly our maiden mother is as worthy to enjoy these things as any one in Mátsake, or even Zuni.' Now, listen well, for I speak the speech of all the elders of my people: If you will drive us in early this afternoon, when the dance is most gay and the people are most happy, we will help you to make yourself so handsome and so prettily dressed that never a man, woman, or child amongst all those who are assembled at the dance will know you; but rather, especially the young men, will wonder whence you came, and long to lay hold of your hand in the circle that forms round the altar to dance. Maiden mother, would you like to go to see this dance, and even to join in it, and be merry with the best of your people?' The poor girl was at first surprised. Then it seemed all so natural that the turkeys should talk to her as she did to them, that she sat down on a little mound, and, leaning over, looked at them and said: 'My beloved turkeys, how glad I am that we may speak together! But why should you tell me of things that you full well know I so long to, but cannot by any possible means, do?' 'Trust in us,' said the old gobbler, 'for I speak the speech of my people, and when we begin to call and call and gobble and gobble, and turn toward our home in Mátsake, do you follow us, and we will show you what we can do for you. Only let me tell you one thing: No one knows how much happiness and good fortune may come to you if you but enjoy temperately the pleasures we enable you to participate in. But if, in the excess of your enjoyment, you should forget us, who are your friends, yet so much depend upon you, then we will think: 'Behold, this our maiden mother, though so humble and poor, deserves, forsooth, her hard life, because, were she more prosperous, she would be unto others as others now are unto her.'' 'Never fear, O my turkeys,' cried the maiden, -- only half trusting that they could do so much for her, yet longing to try, -- 'never fear. In everything you direct me to do I will be obedient as you always have been to me.' The sun had scarce begun to decline, when the turkeys of their own accord turned homeward, and the maiden followed them, light of heart. They knew their places well, and immediately ran to them. When all had entered, even their bare-legged children, the old gobbler called to the maiden, saying: 'Enter our house.' She therefore went in. 'Now, maiden, sit down,' said he, 'and give to me and my companions, one by one, your articles of clothing. We will see if we cannot renew them.' The maiden obediently drew off the ragged old mantle that covered her shoulders and cast it on the ground before the speaker. He seized it in his beak, and spread it out, and picked and picked at it; then he trod upon it, and lowering his wings, began to strut back and forth over it. Then taking it up in his beak, and continuing to strut, he puffed and puffed, and laid it down at the feet of the maiden, a beautiful white embroidered cotton mantle. Then another gobbler came forth, and she gave him another article of dress, and then another and another, until each garment the maiden had worn was new and as beautiful as any possessed by her mistresses in Mátsake. Before the maiden donned all these garments, the turkeys circled about her, singing and singing, and clucking and clucking, and brushing her with their wings, until her person was as clean and her skin as smooth and bright as that of the fairest maiden of the wealthiest home in Mátsake. Her hair was soft and wavy, instead of being an ugly, sun-burnt shock; her cheeks were full and dimpled, and her eyes dancing with smiles, -- for she now saw how true had been the words of the turkeys. Finally, one old turkey came forward and said: 'Only the rich ornaments worn by those who have many possessions are lacking to thee, O maiden mother. Wait a moment. We have keen eyes, and have gathered many valuable things, -- as such things, being small, though precious, are apt to be lost from time to time by men and maidens.' Spreading his wings, he trod round and round upon the ground, throwing his head back, and laying his wattled beard on his neck; and, presently beginning to cough, he produced in his beak a beautiful necklace; another turkey brought forth earrings, and so on, until all the proper ornaments appeared, befitting a well-clad maiden of the olden days, and were laid at the feet of the poor turkey girl. With these beautiful things she decorated herself, and, thanking the turkeys over and over, she started to go, and they called out: 'O maiden mother, leave open the wicket, for who knows whether you will remember your turkeys or not when your fortunes are changed, and if you will not grow ashamed that you have been the maiden mother of turkeys? But we love you, and would bring you to good fortune. Therefore, remember our words of advice, and do not tarry too long.' 'I will surely remember, O my Turkeys!' answered the maiden. Hastily she sped away down the river path to ward Zuni. When she arrived there, she went in at the western side of the town and through one of the long covered ways that lead into the dance court. When she came just inside of the court, behold, everyone began to look at her, and many murmurs ran through the crowd, -- murmurs of astonishment at her beauty and the richness of her dress, - and the people were all asking one another, 'Whence comes this beautiful maiden?' Not long did she stand there neglected. The chiefs of the dance, all gorgeous in their holiday attire, hastily came to her, and, with apologies for the incompleteness of their arrangements, -- though these arrangements were as complete as they possibly could be, -- invited her to join the youths and maidens dancing round the musicians and the altar in the center of the plaza. With a blush and a smile and a toss of her hair over her eyes, the maiden stepped into the circle, and the finest youths among the dancers vied with one another for her hand. Her heart became light and her feet merry, and the music sped her breath to rapid coming and going, and the warmth swept over her face, and she danced and danced until the sun sank low in the west. But, alas! In the excess of her enjoyment, she thought not of her turkeys, or, if she thought of them, she said to herself, 'How is this, that I should go away from the most precious consideration to my flock of gobbling turkeys? I will stay a while longer, and just before the sun sets I will run back to them, that these people may not see who I am, and that I may have the joy of hearing them talk day after day and wonder who the girl was who joined in their dance.' So the time sped on, and another dance was called, and another, and never a moment did the people let her rest; but they would have her in every dance as they moved around the musicians and the altar in the center of the plaza. At last the sun set, and the dance was well-nigh over, when, suddenly breaking away, the girl ran out, and, being swift of foot, -- more so than most of the people of her village, -- she sped up the river path before any one could follow the course she had taken. Meantime, as it grew late, the turkeys began to wonder and wonder that their maiden mother did not return to them. At last a gray old gobbler mournfully exclaimed, 'It is as we might have expected. She has forgotten us; therefore is she not worthy of better things than those she has been accustomed to. Let us go forth to the mountains and endure no more of this irksome captivity, inasmuch as we may no longer think our maiden mother as good and true as once we thought her.' So, calling and calling to one another in loud voices, they trooped out of their cage and ran up toward the Canyon of the Cottonwoods, and then round behind Thunder Mountain, through the Gateway of Zuni, and so on up the valley. All breathless, the maiden arrived at the open wicket and looked in. Behold, not a turkey was there! Trailing them, she ran and she ran up the valley to overtake them; but they were far ahead, and it was only after a long time that she came within the sound of their voices, and then, redoubling her speed, well-nigh overtook them, when she heard them singing this song : Oh, our maiden mother To the Middle Place To dance went away; Therefore as she lingers, To the Canyon Mesa And the plains above it We all run away! Sing ye yee huli huli, Tot-tot, tot-tot, tot-tot, Huli huli! Tot-tot, tot-tot, tot-tot, Huli huli! The poor turkey girl threw her hands up and looked down at her dress. With dust and sweat, behold! it was changed to what it had been, and she was the same poor turkey girl that she was be fore. Weary, grieving, and despairing, she returned to Mátsake. Thus it was in the days of the ancients. Therefore, where you see the rocks leading up to the top of Canyon Mesa (Shoya-k'oskwi), there are the tracks of turkeys and other figures to be seen. The latter are the song that the turkeys sang, graven in the rocks; and all over the plains along the borders of Zuni Mountains since that day turkeys have been more abundant than in any other place. After all, the gods dispose of men according as men are fitted; and if the poor be poor in heart and spirit as well as in appearance, how will they be aught but poor to the end of their days? Thus shortens my story.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Sharp Grey Sheep,Scotland,"Campbell's source: 'From John Dewar, laborer, Glendaruail [Glendaruel], Cowal.'",NA,"The queen was taking wonder that she was keeping alive and that she was not getting meat enough from herself, and she told it to the henwife. The henwife thought that she would send her own daughter to watch how she was getting meat, and Ni Mhaol Charach [Bald Scabby Thing], the henwife's daughter, went to herd the sheep with the queen's daughter. The sheep would not come to her so long as Ni Mhaol Charach was there, and Ni Mhaol Charach was staying all the day with her. The queen's daughter was longing for her meat, and she said, 'Set thy head on my knee, and I will dress thy hair.' And Ni Mhaol Charach set her head on the knee of the queen's daughter, and she slept. The sheep came with meat to the queen's daughter, but the eye that was in the back of the head of the bald black-skinned girl, the henwife's daughter, was open, and she saw all that went on, and when she awoke she went home and told it to her mother, and the henwife told it to the queen, and when the queen understood how the girl was getting meat, nothing at all would serve her but that the sheep should be killed. The sheep came to the queen's daughter and said to her, 'They are going to kill me, but steal thou my skin and gather my bones and roll them in my skin, and I will come alive again, and I will come to thee again.' The sheep was killed, and the queen's daughter stole her skin, and she gathered her bones and her hoofs and she rolled them in the skin; but she forgot the little hoofs. The sheep came alive again, but she was lame. She came to the king's daughter with a halting step, and she said, 'Thou didst as I desired thee, but thou hast forgotten the little hoofs.' And she was keeping her in meat after that. There was a young prince who was hunting and coming often past her, and he saw how pretty she was, and he asked, 'Who's she?' And they told him, and he took love for her, and he was often coming the way; but the bald black-skinned girl, the henwife's daughter, took notice of him, and she told it to her mother, and tho henwife told it to the queen. The queen was wishful to get knowledge what man it was, and the henwife sought till she found out whom he (was), and she told the queen. When the queen heard who it was she was wishful to send her own daughter in his way, and she brought in the first queen's daughter, and she set her own daughter to herd in her place, and she was making the daughter of the first queen do the cooking and every service about the house. The first queen's daughter was out a turn, and the prince met her, and he gave her a pair of golden shoes. And he was wishful to see her at the sermon, but her muime [stepmother] would not let her go there. But when the rest would go she would make ready, and she would go after them, and she would sit where he might see her, but she would rise and go before the people would scatter, and she would be at the house and everything in order before her muime would come. But the third time she was there the prince was wishful to go with her, and he sat near to the door, and when she went he was keeping an eye on her, and he rose and went after her. She was running home, and she lost one of her shoes in the mud; and he got the shoe, and because he could not see her he said that the one who had the foot that would fit the shoe was the wife that would be his. The queen was wishful that the shoe should fit her own daughter, and she put the daughter of the first queen in hiding, so that she should not be seen till she should try if the shoe should fit her own daughter. When the prince come to try the shoe on her, her foot was too big, but she was very anxious that the shoe should fit her, and she spoke to the henwife about it. The henwife cut the points of her toes off that the shoe might fit her, and the shoe went on her when the points of the toes were cut. When the wedding day came the daughter of the first queen was set in hiding in a nook that was behind the fire. When the people were all gathered together, a bird came to the window, and he cried, 'The blood 's in the shoe, and the pretty foot's in the nook at the back of the fire.' One of them said, 'What is that creature saying?' And the queen said, 'It's no matter what that creature is saying; it is but a nasty, beaky, lying creature.' The bird came again to the window; and the third time he came, the prince said, 'We will go and see what he is saying.' And he rose and he went out, and the bird cried, 'The blood's in the shoe, and the pretty foot's in the nook that is at the back of the fire.' He returned in, and he ordered the nook at the back of the fire to be searched. And they searched it, and they found the first queen's daughter there, and the golden shoe on the one foot. They cleaned the blood out of the other shoe, and they tried it on her, and the shoe fitted her, and its like was on the other foot. The prince left the daughter of the last queen, and he married the daughter of the first queen, and he took her from them with him, and she was rich and lucky after that.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Turkey Herd,Native American (Zuni),"Parsons' source: 'Tsatiselu of Zuni.' Note by Parsons: 'This is, I suggest, a Cinderella tale, the pattern in regard to the sisters being confused.'",NA,"At Matsaki they were dancing lapalehakya (lapa>lapapoawe, 'parrots;' lahakya, 'tell'). They were dancing for the third time, when the turkey girl said, 'Younger sisters [ahani]!' The turkeys said, 'What?' The girl said, 'I want to go and see the dance.' The turkeys said, 'You are too dirty to go.' She repeated, 'I want to go.' The turkeys said, 'Let us eat the lice out of her hair!' Then each ate lice from her hair. Then an elder-sister (kyauu) turkey clapped her wings, and down from the air fell women's moccasins (mokwawe). Then her younger sister (ikina) clapped her wings, and down from the air fell a blanket dress (yatone). Then another elder sister clapped her wings, and down from the air fell a belt (ehnina). A younger sister clapped her wings, and a pitone fell down. An elder sister clapped, and a blanket (eha) fell down. The little younger sister (an hani tsanna) clapped, and a hair belt (tsutokehnina) fell down. An kyauu said, 'Is this all you want?' The girl said, 'Yes.' She put on the moccasins and the ehayatonana. The turkeys put up her hair in a queue. She said to the turkeys, 'I will come back before sundown.' She went to her house, and made a little cloth bag, and filled it with meal. Then she went on to Matsaki. Her sisters said, 'Has she gone to the dance?' One said, 'Yes.' -- 'She is too dirty to go.' After she reached Matsaki, as she stood there, the dance director (otakya mosi) asked if she would dance. She said, 'Yes.' She danced all day. When the sun set, she finished dancing, and ran back to the turkeys. The turkeys had said, when she did not come, 'We must not go on living here. Our sister does not love us.' When she arrived, they were not there. They were on top of a little hill, singing: Her sisters said, 'Don't cry! You did not return on time. You did not love them.' The girl stayed and cooked for her sisters. Thus it was long ago.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Wicked Stepmother,Kashmir,Type 511.,NA,"When the Brahman came home and saw the she goat running about the house he was intensely grieved, because he knew that it was none other than his own beloved wife. He kept the goat tied up in the yard of his house, and tended it very carefully. In a few years he married again, but this wife was not kind to the children. She at once took a dislike to them, and treated them unkindly and gave them little food. Their mother, the she goat, heard their complainings, and noticed that they were getting thin, and therefore called one of them to her secretly, and bade the child tell the others to strike her horns with a stick whenever they were very hungry, and some food would fall down for them. They did so, and instead of getting weaker and thinner, as their stepmother had expected, they became stronger and stronger. She was surprised to see them getting so fat and strong while she was giving them so little food. In course of time a one-eyed daughter was born to this wicked woman. She loved the girl with all her heart, and grudged not any expense or attention that she thought the child required. One day, when the girl had grown quite big and could walk and talk well, her mother sent her to play with the other children, and ordered her to notice how and whence they obtained anything to eat. The girl promised to do so, and most rigidly stayed by them the whole day, and saw all that happened. On hearing that the goat supplied her stepchildren with food the woman got very angry, and determined to kill the beast as soon as possible. She pretended to be very ill, and sending for the hakim, bribed him to prescribe some goat's flesh for her. The Brahman was very anxious about his wife's state, and although he grieved to have to slay the goat (for he was obliged to kill the goat, not having money to purchase another), yet he did not mind if his wife really recovered. But the little children wept when they heard this, and went to their mother, the she goat, in great distress, and told her everything. 'Do not weep, my darlings,' she said. 'It is much better for me to die than to live such a life as this. Do not weep. I have no fear concerning you. Food will be provided for you, if you will attend to my instructions. Be sure to gather my bones, and bury them all together in some secret place, and whenever you are very hungry go to that place and ask for food. Food will then be given you.' The poor she goat gave this advice only just in time. Scarcely had it finished these words and the children had departed than the butcher came with a knife and slew it. Its body was cut into pieces and cooked, and the stepmother had the meat, but the stepchildren got the bones. They did with them as they had been directed, and thus got food regularly and in abundance. Some time after the death of the she goat one morning one of the stepdaughters was washing her face in the stream that ran by the house, when her nose ring unfastened and fell into the water. A fish happened to see it and swallowed it, and this fish was caught by a man and sold to the king's cook for his majesty's dinner. Great was the surprise of the cook when, on opening the fish to clean it, he found the nose ring. He took it to the king, who was so interested in it that he issued a proclamation and set it to every town and village in his dominions, that whosoever had missed a nose ring should apply to him. Within a few days the brother of the girl reported to the king that the nose ring belonged to his sister, who had lost it one day while bathing her face in the river. The king ordered the girl to appear before him, and was so fascinated by her pretty face and nice manner that he married her, and provided amply for the support of her family.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510A,The Wonderful Birch,Russia,Lang's source: 'From the Russo-Karelian.',NA,"The woman neither spat, nor did she run between her legs, but yet the witch changed her into a sheep. Then she made herself look exactly like the woman, and called out to the good man, 'Ho, old man, halloa! I have found the sheep already!' The man thought the witch was really his wife, and he did not know that his wife was the sheep; so he went home with her, glad at heart because his sheep was found. When they were safe at home the witch said to the man, 'Look here, old man, we must really kill that sheep lest it run away to the wood again.' The man, who was a peaceable quiet sort of fellow, made no objections, but simply said, 'Good, let us do so.' The daughter, however, had overheard their talk, and she ran to the flock and lamented aloud, 'Oh, dear little mother, they are going to slaughter you!' 'Well, then, if they do slaughter me,' was the black sheep's answer, 'eat you neither the meat nor the broth that is made of me, but gather all my bones, and bury them by the edge of the field.' Shortly after this they took the black sheep from the flock and slaughtered it. The witch made pease-soup of it, and set it before the daughter. But the girl remembered her mother's warning. She did not touch the soup, but she carried the bones to the edge of the field and buried them there; and there sprang up on the spot a birch tree -- a very lovely birch tree. Some time had passed away -- who can tell how long they might have been living there? -- when the witch, to whom a child had been born in the meantime, began to take an ill-will to the man's daughter, and to torment her in all sorts of ways. Now it happened that a great festival was to be held at the palace, and the king had commanded that all the people should be invited, and that this proclamation should be made: And so they drove into the king's feast all the outcasts, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind. In the good man's house, too, preparations were made to go to the palace. The witch said to the man, 'Go you on in front, old man, with our youngest; I will give the elder girl work to keep her from being dull in our absence.' So the man took the child and set out. But the witch kindled a fire on the hearth, threw a potful of barleycorns among the cinders, and said to the girl, 'If you have not picked the barley out of the ashes, and put it all back in the pot before nightfall, I shall eat you up!' Then she hastened after the others, and the poor girl stayed at home and wept. She tried to be sure to pick up the grains of barley, but she soon saw how useless her labor was; and so she went in her sore trouble to the birch tree on her mother's grave, and cried and cried, because her mother lay dead beneath the sod and could help her no longer. In the midst of her grief she suddenly heard her mother's voice speak from the grave, and say to her, 'Why do you weep, little daughter?' 'The witch has scattered barleycorns on the hearth, and bid me pick them out of the ashes,' said the girl; 'that is why I weep, dear little mother.' 'Do not weep,' said her mother consolingly. 'Break off one of my branches, and strike the hearth with it crosswise, and all will be put right.' The girl did so. She struck the hearth with the birchen branch, and lo! the barleycorns flew into the pot, and the hearth was clean. Then she went back to the birch tree and laid the branch upon the grave. Then her mother bade her bathe on one side of the stem, dry herself on another, and dress on the third. When the girl had done all that, she had grown so lovely that no one on earth could rival her. Splendid clothing was given to her, and a horse, with hair partly of gold, partly of silver, and partly of something more precious still. The girl sprang into the saddle, and rode as swift as an arrow to the palace. As she turned into the courtyard of the castle the king's son came out to meet her, tied her steed to a pillar, and led her in. He never left her side as they passed through the castle rooms; and all the people gazed at her, and wondered who the lovely maiden was, and from what castle she came; but no one knew her -- no one knew anything about her. At the banquet the prince invited her to sit next him in the place of honor; but the witch's daughter gnawed the bones under the table. The prince did not see her, and thinking it was a dog, he gave her such a push with his foot that her arm was broken. Are you not sorry for the witch's daughter? It was not her fault that her mother was a witch. Towards evening the good man's daughter thought it was time to go home; but as she went, her ring caught on the latch of the door, for the king's son had had it smeared with tar. She did not take time to pull it off, but, hastily unfastening her horse from the pillar, she rode away beyond the castle walls as swift as an arrow. Arrived at home, she took off her clothes by the birch tree, left her horse standing there, and hastened to her place behind the stove. In a short time the man and the woman came home again too, and the witch said to the girl, 'Ah! you poor thing, there you are to be sure! You don't know what fine times we have had at the palace! The king's son carried my daughter about, but the poor thing fell and broke her arm.' The girl knew well how matters really stood, but she pretended to know nothing about it, and sat dumb behind the stove. The next day they were invited again to the king's banquet. 'Hey! old man,' said the witch, 'get on your clothes as quick as you can; we are bidden to the feast. Take you the child; I will give the other one work, lest she weary.' She kindled the fire, threw a potful of hemp seed among the ashes, and said to the girl, 'If you do not get this sorted, and all the seed back into the pot, I shall kill you!' The girl wept bitterly; then she went to the birch tree, washed herself on one side of it and dried herself on the other; and this time still finer clothes were given to her, and a very beautiful steed. She broke off a branch of the birch tree, struck the hearth with it, so that the seeds flew into the pot, and then hastened to the castle. Again the king's son came out to meet her, tied her horse to a pillar, and led her into the banqueting hall. At the feast the girl sat next him in the place of honor, as she had done the day before. But the witch's daughter gnawed bones under the table, and the prince gave her a push by mistake, which broke her leg -- he had never noticed her crawling about among the people's feet. She was very unlucky! The good man's daughter hastened home again betimes, but the king's son had smeared the door-posts with tar, and the girl's golden circlet stuck to it. She had not time to look for it, but sprang to the saddle and rode like an arrow to the birch tree. There she left her horse and her fine clothes, and said to her mother, 'I have lost my circlet at the castle; the door-post was tarred, and it stuck fast.' 'And even had you lost two of them,' answered her mother, 'I would give you finer ones.' Then the girl hastened home, and when her father came home from the feast with the witch, she was in her usual place behind the stove. Then the witch said to her, 'You poor thing! what is there to see here compared with what we have seen at the palace? The king's son carried my daughter from one room to another; he let her fall, 'tis true, and my child's foot was broken.' The man's daughter held her peace all the time, and busied herself about the hearth. The night passed, and when the day began to dawn, the witch awakened her husband, crying, 'Hi! get up, old man! We are bidden to the royal banquet.' So the old man got up. Then the witch gave him the child, saying, 'Take you the little one; I will give the other girl work to do, else she will weary at home alone.' She did as usual. This time it was a dish of milk she poured upon the ashes, saying, 'If you do not get all the milk into the dish again before I come home, you will suffer for it.' How frightened the girl was this time! She ran to the birch tree, and by its magic power her task was accomplished; and then she rode away to the palace as before. When she got to the courtyard she found the prince waiting for her. He led her into the hall, where she was highly honored; but the witch's daughter sucked the bones under the table, and crouching at the people's feet she got an eye knocked out, poor thing! Now no one knew any more than before about the good man's daughter, no one knew whence she came; but the prince had had the threshold smeared with tar, and as she fled her gold slippers stuck to it. She reached the birch tree, and laying aside her finery, she said, 'Alas I dear little mother, I have lost my gold slippers!' 'Let them be,' was her mother's reply; 'if you need them I shall give you finer ones.' Scarcely was she in her usual place behind the stove when her father came home with the witch. Immediately the witch began to mock her, saying, 'Ah! you poor thing, there is nothing for you to see here, and we -- ah: what great things we have seen at the palace! My little girl was carried about again, but had the ill-luck to fall and get her eye knocked out. You stupid thing, you, what do you know about anything?' 'Yes, indeed, what can I know?' replied the girl; 'I had enough to do to get the hearth clean.' Now the prince had kept all the things the girl had lost, and he soon set about finding the owner of them. For this purpose a great banquet was given on the fourth day, and all the people were invited to the palace. The witch got ready to go too. She tied a wooden beetle on where her child's foot should have been, a log of wood instead of an arm, and stuck a bit of dirt in the empty socket for an eye, and took the child with her to the castle. When all the people were gathered together, the king's son stepped in among the crowd and cried, 'The maiden whose finger this ring slips over, whose head this golden hoop encircles, and whose foot this shoe fits, shall be my bride.' What a great trying on there was now among them all! The things would fit no one, however. 'The cinder wench is not here,' said the prince at last; 'go and fetch her, and let her try on the things.' So the girl was fetched, and the prince was just going to hand the ornaments to her, when the witch held him back, saying, 'Don't give them to her; she soils everything with cinders; give them to my daughter rather.' Well, then the prince gave the witch's daughter the ring, and the woman filed and pared away at her daughter's finger till the ring fitted. It was the same with the circlet and the shoes of gold. The witch would not allow them to be handed to the cinder wench; she worked at her own daughter's head and feet till she got the things forced on. What was to be done now? The prince had to take the witch's daughter for his bride whether he would or no; he sneaked away to her father's house with her, however, for he was ashamed to hold the wedding festivities at the palace with so strange a bride. Some days passed, and at last he had to take his bride home to the palace, and he got ready to do so. Just as they were taking leave, the kitchen wench sprang down from her place by the stove, on the pretext of fetching something from the cowhouse, and in going by she whispered in the prince's ear as he stood in the yard, 'Alas! dear prince, do not rob me of my silver and my gold.' Thereupon the king's son recognized the cinder wench; so he took both the girls with him, and set out. After they had gone some little way they came to the bank of a river, and the prince threw the witch's daughter across to serve as a bridge, and so got over with the cinder wench. There lay the witch's daughter then, like a bridge over the river, and could not stir, though her heart was consumed with grief. No help was near, so she cried at last in her anguish, 'May there grow a golden hemlock out of my body! Perhaps my mother will know me by that token.' Scarcely had she spoken when a golden hemlock sprang up from her, and stood upon the bridge. Now, as soon as the prince had got rid of the witch's daughter he greeted the cinder wench as his bride, and they wandered together to the birch tree which grew upon the mother's grave. There they received all sorts of treasures and riches, three sacks full of gold, and as much silver, and a splendid steed, which bore them home to the palace. There they lived a long time together, and the young wife bore a son to the prince. Immediately word was brought to the witch that her daughter had borne a son -- for they all believed the young king's wife to be the witch's daughter. 'So, so,' said the witch to herself; 'I had better away with my gift for the infant, then.' And so saying she set out. Thus it happened that she came to the bank of the river, and there she saw the beautiful golden hemlock growing in the middle of the bridge, and when she began to cut it down to take to her grandchild, she heard a voice moaning, 'Alas! dear mother, do not cut me so!' 'Are you here?' demanded the witch. 'Indeed I am, dear little mother,' answered the daughter 'They threw me across the river to make a bridge of me.' In a moment the witch had the bridge shivered to atoms, and then she hastened away to the palace. Stepping up to the young Queen's bed, she began to try her magic arts upon her, saying, 'Spit, you wretch, on the blade of my knife; bewitch my knife's blade for me, and I shall change you into a reindeer of the forest.' 'Are you there again to bring trouble upon me?' said the young woman. She neither spat nor did anything else, but still the witch changed her into a reindeer, and smuggled her own daughter into her place as the prince's wife. But now the child grew restless and cried, because it missed its mother's care. They took it to the court, and tried to pacify it in every conceivable way, but its crying never ceased. 'What makes the child so restless?' asked the prince, and he went to a wise widow woman to ask her advice. 'Ay, ay, your own wife is not at home,' said the widow woman; 'she is living like a reindeer in the wood; you have the witch's daughter for a wife now, and the witch herself for a mother-in- law.' 'Is there any way of getting my own wife back from the wood again?' asked the prince. 'Give me the child,' answered the widow woman. 'I'll take it with me tomorrow when I go to drive the cows to the wood. I'll make a rustling among the birch leaves and a trembling among the aspens -- perhaps the boy will grow quiet when he hears it.' 'Yes, take the child away, take it to the wood with you to quiet it,' said the prince, and led the widow woman into the castle. 'How now? you are going to send the child away to the wood?' said the witch in a suspicious tone, and tried to interfere. But the king's son stood firm by what he had commanded, and said, 'Carry the child about the wood; perhaps that will pacify it.' So the widow woman took the child to the wood. She came to the edge of a marsh, and seeing a herd of reindeer there, she began all at once to sing: and immediately the reindeer drew near, and nursed and tended the child the whole day long; but at nightfall it had to follow the herd, and said to the widow woman, 'Bring me the child tomorrow, and again the following day; after that I must wander with the herd far away to other lands.' The following morning the widow woman went back to the castle to fetch the child. The witch interfered, of course, but the prince said, 'Take it, and carry it about in the open air; the boy is quieter at night, to be sure, when he has been in the wood all day.' So the widow took the child in her arms, and carried it to the marsh in the forest. There she sang as on the preceding day: and immediately the reindeer left the herd and came to the child, and tended it as on the day before. And so it was that the child throve, till not a finer boy was to be seen anywhere. But the king's son had been pondering over all these things, and he said to the widow woman, 'Is there no way of changing the reindeer into a human being again?' 'I don't rightly know,' was her answer. 'Come to the wood with me, however; when the woman puts off her reindeer skin I shall comb her head for her; whilst I am doing so you must burn the skin.' Thereupon they both went to the wood with the child; scarcely were they there when the reindeer appeared and nursed the child as before. Then the widow woman said to the reindeer, 'Since you are going far away tomorrow, and I shall not see you again, let me comb your head for the last time, as a remembrance of you.' Good; the young woman stripped off the reindeer skin, and let the widow woman do as she wished. In the meantime the king's son threw the reindeer skin into the fire unobserved. 'What smells of singeing here?' asked the young woman, and looking round she saw her own husband. 'Woe is me! you have burnt my skin. Why did you do that?' 'To give you back your human form again.' 'Alack-a-day! I have nothing to cover me now, poor creature that I am!' cried the young woman, and transformed herself first into a distaff, then into a wooden beetle, then into a spindle, and into all imaginable shapes. But all these shapes the king's son went on destroying till she stood before him in human form again. 'Alas! wherefore take me home with you again,' cried the young woman, 'since the witch is sure to eat me up?' 'She will not eat you up,' answered her husband; and they started for home with the child. But when the witch wife saw them she ran away with her daughter, and if she has not stopped she is running still, though at a great age. And the prince, and his wife, and the baby lived happy ever afterwards.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,All-Kinds-of-Fur (Grimm),"Version of 1812 Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm","Incest, one of our strongest taboos, has, until our own era, largely escaped exposure and discussion on the printed page. Publishers of folktales dealing with incest have gotten around the taboo in various ways. One of the most disingenuous solutions was used in the following passage from a nineteenth-century English 'translation' of the Grimms' 'All-Kinds-of-Fur': Now, the King had a daughter, who was just as beautiful as her dead mother, and had just such golden hair. One day when she had grown up, her father looked at her, and saw that she was exactly like her mother, so he said to his councilors, 'I will marry my daughter to one of you, and she shall be queen, for she is exactly like her dead mother, and when I die her husband shall be king.' But when the Princess heard of her father's decision, she was not at all pleased, and said to him, 'Before I do your bidding, I must have three dresses; one as golden as the sun, one as silver as the moon, and one as shining as the stars. Besides these, I want a cloak made of a thousand different kinds of skin; every animal in your kingdom must give a bit of his skin to it.' But she thought to herself, 'This will be quite impossible, and I shall not have to marry someone I do not care for.' -- Andrew Lang, The Green Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green and Company.1892), p. 276. Other versions of the story (including later Grimm editions) make it abundantly clear that the fiancé mentioned here is a different king, not her own father. Beginning with the edition of 1819, the Grimms omitted the episode describing how the young king threw his boots at the heroine's head. The Grimms obviously wanted to de-emphasize the abusive nature of the relationship between the two lovers. However, most versions of the tale describe how the 'hero' belittles, and possibly beats the woman he will later marry. Link to an English translation of the version of 1857: All-Kinds-of-Fur.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Allerlei-Rauh,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812/1815), vol. 1, no. 65, pp. 308-316.","Once upon a time there was a king whose wife was the most beautiful woman in the world, with hair of pure gold. Together they had a daughter, and she was as beautiful as her mother, and she had the same golden hair. The queen became ill, and when she felt that she was about to die, she called the king to her side and asked him not to marry anyone following her death, unless she was just as beautiful as she, and unless her hair was just as golden as hers. The king made this promise, and she died. For a long time the king was so grieved that he did not think about a second wife, but finally his councilors advised him to marry again. He sent messengers to all the princesses, but none was as beautiful as the deceased queen, and such golden hair could not be found anywhere in the world. Then one day the king's glance fell on his daughter, and he saw that she looked just like her mother, and that she had the same golden hair. He thought to himself, 'You will never find anyone in the world this beautiful. You will have to marry your daughter.' And in that instant he felt such a strong love for her, that he immediately announced his decision to his councilors. They tried to dissuade him, but to no avail. The princess was horrified at his godless intentions, but because she was clever, she told the king that he should first get her three dresses: one as golden as the sun, one as white as the moon, one that glistened like the stars. Further, he was to get her a coat made from a thousand kinds of fur. Every animal in the kingdom would have to give up a piece of its skin for it. The king was so fervent in his desires, that he had his huntsmen capture animals from across the entire kingdom. They were skinned, and a coat was made from their pelts. Thus, it did not take long before he brought the princess everything that she had asked for. The princess said that she would marry him the next day. That night she sought out the presents that she had received from her fiancé: a golden ring, a little golden spinning wheel, and a little golden yarn reel. She put the three dresses into a nutshell, blackened her hands and face with soot, put on the coat of all kinds of fur, and left. She walked the entire night until she came to a great forest. She would be safe there. Because she was tired, she sat down in a hollow tree and fell asleep. She was still asleep the next day when the king, her fiancé, came to this forest to hunt. His dogs ran up to the tree and sniffed at it. The king sent his huntsmen to see what kind of animal was in the tree. They came back and said that it was a strange animal, the likes of which they had never seen before. It had every kind of fur on its skin, and it was lying there asleep. The king ordered them to capture it and to tie it onto the back of his carriage. As the huntsmen were doing this, they saw that it was a girl. They tied her onto the back of the carriage and rode home with her. 'All-Kinds-of-Fur,' they said, 'you are good for the kitchen. You can carry water and wood, and clean out the ashes.' Then they gave her a little stall beneath the steps, where the light of day never shone, and said, 'This is where you can live and sleep.' So she had to help the cook in the kitchen. She plucked chickens, tended the fire, gathered vegetables, and did all the dirty work. Because she did very well at all this, the cook was good to her, and in the evening he often invited her in and gave her something to eat from the leftovers. Before the king went to bed, she had to go upstairs and pull off his boots. When she had pulled them off, he always threw them at her head. Poor All-Kinds-of-Fur lived like this for a long time. Oh, you beautiful maiden, what will become of you? Once there was a ball at the castle, and All-Kinds-of-Fur thought that she might see her fiancé once again, so she went to the cook and asked him if he would allow her to go upstairs a little and look in at the splendor from the doorway. 'Go ahead,' said the cook, 'but do not stay longer than a half hour. You still have to clean out the ashes tonight.' Then All-Kinds-of-Fur took her little oil lamp and went to her stall where she washed off the soot. Her beauty came forth just like blossoms in the springtime. She took off the fur coat, opened up the nut and took out the dress that glistened like the sun. She put it on and went upstairs. Everyone made room for her, and thought that a noble princess had entered the hall. The king immediately invited her to dance, and as he danced with her, he thought how closely this unknown princess resembled his own fiancée. The longer he looked at her, the stronger the resemblance. He was almost certain that this was his fiancée, and at the end of the dance, he was going to ask her. However, when they finished dancing, she bowed, and before the king knew what was happening, she disappeared. He asked the watchmen, but none of them had seen the princess leave the castle. She had run quickly to her stall, taken off the dress, blackened her hands and face, and put on the fur coat once again. Then she went to the kitchen to clean out the ashes, but the cook said, 'Leave them until morning. I want to go upstairs and have a look at the dance. You make some soup for the king, but don't let any hairs fall into it, or there will be nothing more to eat for you.' All-Kinds-of-Fur made some bread soup for the king, then she put the golden ring in it that he had given her. When the ball was over, the king had his bread soup brought to him. It tasted better than any he had ever eaten. When he was finished, he found the ring on the bottom of the bowl. Looking at it carefully, he saw that it was his engagement ring. Astonished, he could not understand how it had gotten there. He summoned the cook, who then became very angry with All-Kinds-of-Fur. 'You must have let a hair fall into the soup,' he said. 'If you did, there will be blows for you.' However, when the cook went upstairs, the king asked him who had made the soup, because it had been better than usual. The king had to confess that it had been All-Kinds-of-Fur. Then the king had her sent up to him. 'Who are you?' he asked upon her arrival. 'What are you doing in my castle, and where did you get the ring that was lying in the soup?' She answered, 'I am only a poor child whose father and mother are dead. I have nothing, and I am good for nothing more than having boots thrown at my head. And I know nothing about the ring.' With that she ran away. Soon there was another ball. All-Kinds-of-Fur again asked the cook to allow her to go upstairs. The cook gave his permission, but only for a half hour, because by then she would have to be back in the kitchen to make the king's bread soup. All-Kinds-of-Fur went to her stall, washed herself clean, and took out the moon-dress. It was purer and brighter than newly fallen snow. When she arrived upstairs the dance had just begun. The king extended his hand to her, and danced with her, and no longer doubted that this was his fiancée, for no one else in the world had such golden hair. However, the princess immediately slipped out when the dance ended, and the king, in spite of his great effort, could not find her. Further, he had not spoken a single word with her. She was All-Kinds-of-Fur once again, with blackened hands and face. She took her place in the kitchen and made bread soup for the king, while the cook went upstairs to have a look. When the soup was ready, she put the golden spinning wheel in it. The king ate the soup, and thought that it was even better this time. When he found the golden spinning wheel, he was even more astonished, because it had been a present from him to his fiancée some time ago. The cook was summoned again, and then All-Kinds-of-Fur, but once again she answered by saying that she knew nothing about it, and that she was there only to have boots thrown at her head. For the third time, the king held a ball. He hoped that his fiancée would come again, and he would not let her escape this time. All-Kinds-of-Fur again asked the cook to allow her to go upstairs, but he scolded her, saying, 'You are a witch. You are always putting things in the soup. And you can cook better than I can.' But because she begged so, and promised to behave herself, he gave her permission to go upstairs for a half hour. She put on the dress of stars. It glistened like stars in the night. She went upstairs and danced with the king, and he thought that he had never seen her more beautiful. While dancing, he slipped a ring onto her finger. He had ordered that it should be a very long dance. He could not bring himself to speak to her, nor could he keep her from escaping. As soon as the dance ended, she jumped into the crowd and disappeared before he could turn around. She ran to her stall. Because she had been gone more than a half hour, she quickly took off her dress, and in her rush she failed to blacken herself entirely. One finger remained white. When she returned to the kitchen, the cook had already left. She quickly made some bread soup and put the golden yarn reel into it. The king found it, just as he had found the ring and the golden spinning wheel, and now he knew for sure that his fiancée was nearby, for no one else could have had these presents. All-Kinds-of-Fur was summoned. Once again she tried to make an excuse and then run away, but as she ran by, the king noticed a white finger on her hand, and he held her fast. He found the ring that he had slipped onto her finger, and then he ripped off her fur coat. Her golden hair flowed out, and he saw that it was his dearly beloved fiancée. The cook received a generous reward. Then they got married and lived happily until they died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,All-Kinds-of-Fur (Hahn),Greece,NA,"J. G. von Hahn, 'Allerleirauh,' Griechische und albanesische Märchen, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1864), no. 27, pp. 191-93.","'How can you take me for a wife,' said the girl, 'for I am your daughter.' 'That is all the same to me. I want to marry you.' 'That is entirely impossible!' said the girl. 'Just go to the bishop and listen to what he says. If he says that you are right, then take me in God's name.' So the king went to the bishop and asked, 'If someone has a lamb that he himself has cared for and raised, is it better that he should eat it, or that another person should eat it?' 'No,' answered the bishop, 'it is better for the person to eat it who raised it.' Then the king went back to his daughter and said, 'He told me that I may take you.' 'If he really told you that you make take me, then take me in God's name. But first make me two dresses of pure gold, and fill the pockets with ducats. Also make a bed for me, and a shaft that goes ten fathoms deep into the earth.' When the king had done all this, the girl took the dresses, climbed into the bed, then rode in into the shaft, saying, 'Earth, open further.' And the earth opened further, and she rode one until she came out at another place, and there she remained. A prince was hunting there, and he found the girl, wrapped in an animal skin. He approached her and asked, 'Are you a human?' She answered, 'Yes, I am a human. May I go with you?' He replied, 'For all I care you may come with me.' He took her with him and let her herd the geese. One day the king gave a feast, and the women began to dance. Then the girl slipped out of her animal skin and went to the ball in her golden dress, and danced. The prince saw her and said to himself,' Who can that be? When she leaves the ball, I will follow her.' When the ball was over the girl left, and the prince crept after her. She noticed him, and she began to run, and he ran after her. Then the girl took a handful of ducats and threw them to the ground. While the prince was gathering up the gold she slipped away and hid herself in her animal skin. Then the prince said, 'Tomorrow I will give another feast, in order to see who she is.' The next day at the ball the girl came again and danced, and when she left the ball the prince ran after her. While running away she lost a shoe, and while the prince was picking it up she escaped half barefoot, then hid herself again in her animal skin. The prince took the shoe and tried it onto all the girls in order to see whom it fitted, but he could not find the right one. When the servant girls were taking wash water to the king before he ate, the girl split her animal skin a little at her knee so that her gold dress was visible. Then she went to the servant girls and said that she would like to take the water to the king. But they said, 'What? You, a goose girl want to take water to the king?' 'What is the matter?' asked the king. 'The goose girl want to bring your water.' 'Then let her do so. Just let her come.' When she knelt down the golden dress shone through the slit. The prince saw this and cried out, 'So you are the one who tormented me so!' And with that he took her as his wife.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Ass'-Skin (Webster),"Basque, Wentworth Webster","Although this tale contains most motifs traditionally found in type 510B stories, it does lack the incest motif.","Wentworth Webster, Basque Legends, 2nd edition (London: Griffith and Farran, 1879), pp. 158-65.","The king said to her, 'Are you like your name?' and she said, 'Yes.' She stopped there seven years. Her master gave her all the keys, even that of the treasure. One day, when the king and queen were out, Faithful goes to the fountain, and she sees seven robbers coming out of the house. Judge what a state this poor girl was in! She runs straight to the treasury, and sees that more than half the treasure is missing. She did not know what would become of her -- she was all of a tremble. When the king and queen came home she told them what had happened, but they would not believe her, and they put her in prison. She stays there a year. She kept saying that she was not in fault, but they would not believe her. The king condemns her to death, and sends her with four men to the forest to kill her, telling them to bring him her heart. They go off, but these men thought it a pity to kill this young girl, for she was very pretty, and she told them that she was innocent of this robbery; and they say to her, 'If you will not come any more into this land, we will spare your life.' She promises them that she will not be seen again in those parts. The men see an ass, and they tell her that they will carry its heart to the king. The young girl said to them, 'Flay this ass, I pray you; and, in order that no one may know me, I will never take this skin off me.' The men do so, and go off to the king, and the young girl goes to look for some shelter. At nightfall she finds a beautiful house. She asks if they want some one to keep the geese. They tell her, 'Yes, yes, yes.' They put her along with the geese, and tell her that she must go with them every day to such a field. She went out very early in the morning and came back late. It was the king's house, and it was the queen-mother and her son who lived there. After some time there appeared to her one day an old woman, who called to her, 'Faithful, you have done penance enough. The son of the king is going to give some grand feasts, and you must go to them. This evening you will ask madame permission, and you will tell her that you will give her all the news of the ball if she will let you go for a little while. And, see, here is a nut. All the dresses and things you want will come out of that. You will break it as you go to the place of the festival.' That evening she asked permission of her mistress to go and see the festival which the king is going to give, for a short time only, and that she will return directly and tell her all that she has seen there. Her mistress said, 'Yes.' That evening she goes then. On her way she breaks the nut, and there comes out of it a silver robe. She puts it on, and goes there, and immediately she enters all the world looks at her. The king is bewitched, he does not quit her for an instant, and they always dance together. He pays no attention at all to the other young ladies. They enjoy the refreshments very much. Some friends of the king call him, and he has to go there; and in this interval Faithful makes her escape to the house. She tells the queen how that a young girl had come to the ball, how she had dazzled everybody, and especially the king, who paid attention to her alone, but that she had escaped. When the son comes to the house, his mother says to him, 'She escaped from you then, your young lady? She did not care for you, doubtless.' He says to his mother, 'Who told you that?' 'Ass'-Skin; she wished to go and see it.' The king goes to where Faithful was and gives her two blows with his slipper, saying to her, 'If you return there again I will kill you on the spot.' The next day Ass'-Skin goes with her geese, and there appears to her again the old woman. She tells her that she ought to go to the ball again this evening -- that her mistress would give her permission. 'Here is a walnut; you have there all that is necessary to dress yourself with. The king will ask you your name: Braf-le-mandoufle [Beaten with the slipper].' In the evening she asks permission of her mistress, but she is astonished (at her asking), and says to her, 'You do not know what the king has said -- that if he catches you he will kill you on the spot?' 'I am not afraid. He will be sure not to catch me.' 'Go, then.' She goes off, and on the way she breaks the walnut, and there comes out of it a golden robe. She goes in. The king comes with a thousand compliments, and asks her how she had escaped the evening before without saying anything to him, and that he had been very much hurt at it. They amuse themselves thoroughly. The king has eyes for her alone. He asks her her name. She tells him, 'Braf-le-mandoufle.' They feast themselves well, and some friends having called to him he goes to them, and the young lady escapes. Ass'-Skin goes to tell the queen that yesterday evening's young lady had come, but still more beautiful -- that she had escaped in the very middle of the ball. She goes off to her geese. The king comes to his house. His mother says to him, 'She came then, the young lady you love? But she only loves you so-so, since she has gone off in this fashion.' 'Who told you that?' 'Ass'-Skin.' He goes off to her and gives her two kicks with his slipper, and says to her, 'Woe to you if you go there again; I will kill you on the very spot.' She goes off to her geese, and the old woman comes to her again and tells her to ask permission again for this evening -- that she must go to the dance. She gives her a peach, and tells her that she will have there all that is necessary to dress herself with. She goes then to ask her mistress if she will give her permission, like last night, to go to the ball. She says to her, 'Yes, yes, I will give you leave. But are you not afraid lest the king should catch you? He has said that he will kill you if you go there.' 'I am not afraid, because I am sure that he will not catch me. Yesterday he looked for me again, but he could not catch me.' She goes off then. On the way she opens her peach, and finds there a dress entirely of diamonds, and if she was beautiful before, judge what she is now! She shone like the sun. The king was plunged into joy when he saw her. He was in an ecstasy. He did not wish to dance, but they sat down at their ease on beautiful arm-chairs, and with their refreshments before them they passed such a long time together. The king asked her to give him her promise of marriage. The young lady gives him her word, and the king takes his diamond ring off his finger and gives it to her. His friends call him away to come quickly to see something very rare, and off he goes, leaving his lady. She takes advantage of this opportunity to escape. She tells her mistress all that has passed -- how that this young Lady had come with a dress of diamonds, that all the world was dazzled by her beauty, that they could not even look at her she shone so brightly, that the king did not know where he was for happiness, that they had given each other their promise of marriage, and that the king had given her his diamond ring, but that the best thing of all was that today again she has escaped him. The king comes in at that very instant. His mother says to him, 'She has not, she certainly has not, any wish for you. She has gone off with your diamond ring. Where will you go and look for her? You do not know where she lives. Where will you ask for a young lady who has such a name as 'Braf-le-mandoufle!' She has given you her promise of marriage too; but she does not wish to have you, since she has acted like that.' Our king did not even ask his mother who has told her that. He went straight to bed thoroughly ill, and so Ass'-Skin did not have her two kicks that evening. The queen was in great trouble at seeing her son ill like that. She was continually turning over in her head who this young lady might be. She said to her son, 'Is this young lady our Ass'-Skin ? How else could she have known that you had given your promise to one another, and that you had given her the ring too? She must have been very close to you. Did you see her?' He says, 'No,' but remains buried in thought. His mother says, 'She has a very pretty face under her ass'-skin.' And she says that she must send for her, and that he must have a good look at her too ; that he shall have some broth brought up by her. She sends for Ass'-Skin to the kitchen, has the broth made for her son, and Ass'-Skin puts in the middle of the bread the ring which the king had given her. The lady had her well dressed, and she goes to the king. The king, after having seen her, was still doubtful. He drank his broth; but when he puts the bread into his mouth he finds something (hard), and is very much astonished at seeing his ring. He was ill no longer. He goes and runs to his mother to tell her his joy that he has found his lady. He wishes to marry directly, and all the kings of the neighbourhood are invited to the feast; and, while they were dining, everyone had some fine news to relate. They ask the bride, too, if she had not something to tell them. She says, 'Yes,' but that she cannot tell what she knows that it would not please all at the table. Her husband tells her to speak out boldly; he draws his sword, and says, 'Whosoever shall speak a word shall be run through with this sword.' She then tells how a poor girl was servant at a king's house; how she remained there seven years; that they liked her very much, and treated her with confidence, even to giving her the keys of the treasure. One day, when the king and his wife were out, robbers entered, and stole almost all the treasure. The king would not believe that robbers had come. He puts the young girl in prison for a whole year, and at the end of that time he sends her to execution, telling the executioners to bring her heart to the house. The executioners were better than the king; they believed in her innocence, and, after having killed an ass, they carried its heart to the king; 'and for the proof, it is I who was servant to this king.' The bridegroom says to her, 'Who can this king be? Is it my uncle?' The lady says, ' I do not know if he is your uncle, but it is that gentleman there.' The bridegroom takes his sword and kills him on the spot, saying to his wife, 'You shall not be afraid of him any more.' They lived very happily. Some time afterwards they had two children, a boy and a girl. When the elder was seven years old he died, telling his father and mother that he was going to heaven to get a place there ready for them. At the end of a week the other child dies too, and she says to them that she, too, is going to heaven, and that she will keep their place ready; that they, too, would quickly go to them. And, as she had said, at the end of a year, at exactly the very same time, both the gentleman and lady died, and they both went to heaven.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,"Broomthrow, Brushthrow, Combthrow (Vernaleken)","Austria, Theodor Vernaleken",NA,"Theodor Vernaleken, Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen: Treu nach mündlicher Überlieferung (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), no. 33, pp. 172-77.","The count's and his daughter's sorrow and grief were endless. After the mother's burial, the father and his child locked themselves in their rooms and were seldom seen. After a month had passed, the count had his daughter brought to his room and said to her, 'Dear child, you know how much I loved your mother. I cannot live without a wife. Therefore I am going out into the world to seek a wife who -- like your blessed mother -- has a golden cross on her forehead. If I do not find such a woman within a year and a day, then I will marry you.' When Adelheid heard these words she was very upset, and she silently withdrew. The next morning Count Rudolf departed, promising to return within a year and a day. When Adelheid was alone she considered whether or not it would be possible for her father to find a woman with such a cross. Then she remembered that her mother had once told her that except for her and Adelheid, no one on the entire earth had such a cross. She decided to go away. She would rather earn her bread with the work of her own hands than to eat the finest tidbits at her father's table as his wife. She entrusted one of her loyal servants with her plan, and they made preparations to depart. She secretly loaded her valuables, her jewelry, her gold, and her clothes into several large carriages. During the night she drove off with them, accompanied by her servant Gotthold and several others who were loyal to her. They came to a large city where she rented a house and moved into it with her servants. Adelheid had often stated that she wanted to earn her bread with the work of her own hands. Therefore Gotthold sought a position for his mistress in the city. He learned that there was an opening for a kitchen maid in the castle of Prince Adolf. Thus he went to the chief cook and asked him if he would be willing to hire his niece, for that is what he called the countess. As he talked further with the chief cook, Gotthold recognized in him a friend whom he had not seen for many years. He told him that his brother had died, leaving a daughter in his care. The chief cook agreed to hire her. The loyal servant happily returned to the countess and remained in the rented house. Adelheid now dyed her face, neck, and hands brown; covered her golden cross and her hair with a large head-scarf; took off her magnificent robes, putting on instead old, dirty, torn clothing; and presented herself to the chief cook. She was given a small room where she could sleep and keep her things. Slowly she grew accustomed to her job, even though she was exhausted by the hard work. Until now she had not yet seen the prince. One day he invited all his friends and acquaintances to a great ball. On the morning of the ball, Adelheid was sweeping the staircase, when the prince, without being seen by her, walked up and tipped over the dust pail, thus dirtying his boots. As she was fleeing he angrily ripped the broom from her hands and threw it at her. That evening as the hall was filling with people, the young countess went to the chief cook and asked him for permission to go to the ball. He replied, 'No, I cannot allow you to do that. What if the prince were to find out!' Adelheid continued to beg, until he finally said, 'Just go. But don't stay too late, and if you get anything, bring some back for me as well.' Now she went to Gotthold's house, changed her clothes, washed away the color, and ordered up a splendid carriage in which she rode to the prince's. When the guests saw the splendid carriage approaching in the distance they all hurried outside and said, 'A foreign lady! A beautiful lady!' The prince hurried toward her, lifted her from her carriage, and led her up the stairs. She had to dance with him the entire evening and to sit next to him at the table. After eating, he asked her what her name was and where she came from. 'My name is Adelheid, and I come from Broomthrow,' replied the countess. At twelve o'clock she left, and with her the majority of guests. Arriving at home she quickly got undressed, colored herself brown, and took three gold pieces which she gave to the chief cook, claiming that she had stood behind a door and had received the gold from an old woman. The next morning the prince looked for Broomthrow on his maps, but he could not find it. He wanted to ask her about her home city once again, but because he did not know where she lived he invited his friends to a second ball. On the morning of the second ball Adelheid was brushing her clothing when the prince, without being seen, came up the stairs. She turned around and dropped the brush, which fell onto the prince's feet. Angrily Adolf picked up the brush and threw it at the embarrassed countess's head. That evening the chief cook once again allowed her to go the ball, and she took advantage of his permission. At the ball Adolf told her that he had not been able to find Broomthrow. 'How could you be looking for Broomthrow?' she replied. 'I said Brushthrow.' Once again they danced together, and as midnight approached she went home. She brought the chief cook a gold band, claiming that she had received it as a gift. The next morning the prince looked for Brushthrow, but could not find it. He then invited his friends and acquaintances to a third ball, which was to be even more magnificent than the first two. On the eve of the ball, shortly before the festivities were to begin, Adelheid, contrary to custom, was combing her hair in the castle. The prince, displeased because the foreign lady had not arrived yet, walked up the stairs just as the countess dropped her comb. Prince Adolf picked it up and threw it at the kitchen servant's head. She quickly withdrew, changed her clothes, and went to the ball. At the table the prince said that he had not been able to find Brushthrow anywhere. 'I can believe that,' she said. 'I called the place Combthrow.' He didn't want to believe her, but she argued with him until he finally gave in. Before she left he placed a ring on her finger, without her noticing it. The next morning the prince was not well, and he asked a chief cook to make soup for him. The latter announced this in the kitchen, and Adelheid asked for permission to make the soup. But he said, 'If you put something in the soup that doesn't belong there, then I am the one who will be punished.' She replied, 'I will not put anything wrong in it.' She made the soup, and without being seen, she threw the prince's ring into the soup. The prince poured the soup into a dish and heard something jingle. He felt around and fished out the ring. Amazed, he then asked who had made the soup. 'The kitchen maid' was the answer. Adolph ordered his servant, 'Bring her here.' She hurriedly put on the dress that she had worn the previous evening, and when the prince saw her, he recognized his dance partner. She now had to tell him her life story, and soon afterward he married her. In the meantime her father had come home, and when he discovered that his daughter had already married, he had to accept his fate.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Cinder Blower (Bartsch),Karl Bartsch,NA,"Karl Bartsch, Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg] (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879, vol. 1, pp. 479-481.","A rich widower had an only daughter who was developing into a beautiful and charming woman. Her father's heart became inflamed with impure love, but she withstood his advances. He threatened to force himself on her, and she responded with cunning. She promised to yield to his will if he would give her a dress made of silver. When she received such a dress, she then demanded one made from gold, and the third time, one made from jewels. After receiving that one as well, she said, 'Now all I need is a crow-skin coat,' and then she made one last wish: a magic wand. These too she received. Now in another land there lived a prince who had heard of the girl's beauty. Taking the magic wand in her hand and the dresses over her shoulder, she wished herself to the vicinity of the prince's castle. She immediately found herself in the castle garden. Then she wished for herself a chest in an oak tree in the garden, put her dresses in it, put on the crow-skin coat and went to the castle kitchen where she presented herself as a poor boy looking for work. 'I can use you,' said the cook. 'You can be the cinder blower.' A few days later the prince came to the kitchen with some freshly killed game. She saw him and liked him beyond measure. Soon afterward there was a wedding in a nearby castle, and the prince went to it. Many people went there to look on at the dance. Cinder Blower asked the cook for permission to observe. She ran to the oak tree, put on the silver dress, and wished herself a carriage in which she rode to the castle. The prince saw her and danced with her, but after a few dances she disappeared. Seating herself in her carriage she said, Darkness behind me, Before me light, So none can follow me into the night. The next morning the prince was in a bad mood, for he had been awake all night thinking about his beautiful dance partner. Cinder Blower was asked to polish his boots, and this she did, but she failed to polish one small spot on one of the toes. The prince noticed this and angrily came into the kitchen and threw the boot at her head. The next evening there was another dance, and Cinder Blower again asked for permission to go. This time she put on the golden dress, then rode there in the carriage. The prince had been looking for her and was very happy when she arrived. While dancing with her he asked her where she lived. 'In Boot-Throw' was her answer. She remained there one hour, and then disappeared. In vain the prince asked where Boot-Throw was. No one could tell him. Again that night the prince could not close his eyes, and the next day he was in an even worse mood than before. Cinder Blower was asked to brush his coat, but he did not like the way she did it, and finally he threw the brush at her head. The third evening Cinder Blower again asked for permission to look on at the dance, then put on her dress of precious stones. While dancing with her the prince asked her where she lived. 'In Brush-Throw,' was her answer. 'Whoever you are,' he said, 'take this ring from me.' She let him put the ring onto her finger. Then she tried to sneak away, but the prince carefully watched her and followed close behind her. She climbed out of her carriage near the oak tree. However, she did not have time to take off her dress, but quickly put on the crow-skin coat over it. The next morning when the cook was preparing the soup, Cinder Blower dropped the ring into it. The prince found it and asked the cook who had been in the kitchen. 'Only Cinder Blower and I,' he answered. The prince summoned Cinder Blower and said, 'My head itches. Look and see if any vermin are there.' Cinder Blower obeyed, but when she stood before him, he saw the diamond dress glistening forth from beneath the worn-out crow-skin coat. Then he recognized her. 'Now you are mine,' he said, and he made her his wife and they lived happily together until they died. Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg] (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879, vol. 1, pp. 479-481.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Doralice (Straparola),"Italy, Giovanni Francesco Straparola","We know almost nothing about the personal life of Giovanni Francesco [also spelled Gianfrancesco] Straparola (ca. 1480 - ca. 1557). His two-volume work Le piacevoli notti (1550-1553), called in English The Facetious Nights of Straparola or simply The Nights of Straparola, contains some 75 novellas and fairy tales, some of oriental origin. Obviously patterning his collection after Boccaccio's Decamerone, Straparola depicts here thirteen nights of revelry in a luxurious villa on the island of Murano near Venice. The participants add to the entertainment by telling one another stories. Included are tales of magic and the supernatural as well as bawdy jokes and anecdotes. Straparola's work is one of Europe's earliest collections of stories based largely on folklore.","The Facetious Nights of Straparola, vol. 1, translated by W. G. Waters (London: privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), pp. 79-101 (night 1, tale 4).","Tebaldo, Prince of Salerno, wishes to have his only daughter Doralice to wife, but she, through her father's persecution, flees to England, where she marries Genese the king, and has by him two children. These, having been slain by Tebaldo, are avenged by their father King Genese. I cannot think there is one amongst us who has not realized by his own experience how great is the power of love, and how sharp are the arrows he is wont to shoot into our corruptible flesh. He, like a mighty king, directs and governs his empire without a sword, simply by his individual will, as you will be able to understand from the tenor of the story which I about to tell to you. You must know, dear ladies, that Tebaldo, Prince of Salerno, according to the story I have heard repeated many times by my elders, had to wife a modest and prudent lady of good lineage, and by her he had a daughter who in beauty and grace outshone all the other ladies of Salerno; but it would have been well for Tebaldo if she had never seen the light, for in that case the grave misadventure which befell him would never have happened. His wife, young in years but of mature wisdom, when she lay a-dying besought her husband, whom she loved very dearly, never to take for his wife any woman whose finger would not exactly fit the ring which she herself wore; and the prince, who loved his wife no less than she loved him, swore by his head that he would observe her wish. After the good princess had breathed her last and had been honorably buried, Tebaldo indulged in the thought of wedding again, but he bore well in mind the promise he had made to his wife, and was firmly resolved to keep her saying. However, the report that Tebaldo, Prince of Salerno, was seeking another mate soon got noised abroad, and came to the ears of many maidens who, in worth and in estate, were no whit his inferiors; but Tebaldo, whose first care was to fulfil the wishes of his wife who was dead, made it a condition that any damsel who might be offered to him in marriage should first try on her finger his wife's ring, to see whether it fitted, and not having found one who fulfilled this condition -- the ring being always found too big for this and too small for that -- he was forced to dismiss them all without further parley. Now it happened one day that the daughter of Tebaldo, whose name was Doralice, sat at table with her father; and she, having espied her mother's ring lying on the board, slipped it on her finger and cried out, 'See my father, how well my mother's ring fits me!' And the prince, when he saw what she had done, assented. But not long after this the soul of Tebaldo was assailed by a strange and diabolical temptation to take to wife his daughter Doralice, and for many days he lived tossed about between yea and nay. At last, overcome by the strength of this devilish intent, and fired by the beauty of the maiden, he one day called her to him and said, 'Doralice, my daughter, while your mother was yet alive, but fast nearing the end of her days, she besought me never to take to wife any woman whose finger would not fit the ring she herself always wore in her lifetime, and I swore by my head that I would observe this last request of hers. Wherefore, when I felt the time was come for me to wed anew, I made trial of many maidens, but not one could I find who could wear your mother's ring, except yourself. Therefore I have decided to take you for my wife, for thus I shall satisfy my own desire without violating the promise I made to your mother.' Doralice, who was as pure as she was beautiful, when she listened to the evil designs of her wicked father, was deeply troubled in her heart; but, taking heed of his vile and abominable lust, and fearing the effects of his rage, she made no answer and went out of his presence with an untroubled face. As there was no one whom she could trust so well as her old nurse, she repaired to her at once as the surest bulwark of her safety, to take counsel as to what she should do. The nurse, when she had heard the story of the execrable lust of this wicked father, spake words of comfort to Doralice, for she knew well the constancy and steadfast nature of the girl, and that she would be ready to endure any torment rather than accede to her father's desire, and promised to aid her in keeping her virginity unsullied by such terrible disgrace. After this the nurse thought of nothing else than how she might best find a way for Doralice out of this strait, planning now this and now that, but finding no method which gained her entire approval. She would fain have had Doralice take to flight and put long distance betwixt her and her father, but she feared the craft of Tebaldo, and lest the girl should fall into his hands after her flight, feeling certain that in such event he would put her to death. So while the faithful nurse was thus taking counsel with herself, she suddenly hit upon a fresh scheme, which was what I will now tell you. In the chamber of the dead lady there was a fair cassone, or clothes-chest, magnificently carved, in which Doralice kept her richest dresses and her most precious jewels, and this wardrobe the nurse alone could open. So she removed from it by stealth all the robes and the ornaments that were therein, and bestowed them elsewhere, placing in it a good store of a certain liquor which had such great virtue, that whosoever took a spoonful of it, or even less, could live for a long time without further nourishment. Then, having called Doralice, she shut her therein, and bade her remain in hiding until such time as God should send her better fortune, and her father be delivered from the bestial mood which had come upon him. The maiden, obedient to the good old woman's command, did all that was told her; and the father, still set upon his accursed design, and making no effort to restrain his unnatural lust, demanded every day what had become of his daughter; and, neither finding any trace of her, or knowing aught where she could be, his rage became so terrible that he threatened to have her killed as soon as he should find her. Early one morning it chanced that Tebaldo went into the room where the chest was, and as soon as his eye fell upon it, he felt, from the associations connected with it, that he could not any longer endure the sight of it, so he gave orders that it should straightway be taken out and placed elsewhere and sold, so that its presence might not bee an offence to him. The servants were prompt to obey their master's command, and, having taken the thing on their shoulders, they bore it away to the marketplace. It chanced that there was at that time in the city a rich dealer from Genoa, who, as soon as he caught sight of the sumptuously carved cassone, admired it greatly, and settled with himself that he would not let it go from him, however much he might have to pay for it. So, having accosted the servant who was charged with the sale of it, and learnt the price demanded, he bought it forthwith, and gave orders to a porter to carry it away and place it on board his ship. The nurse, who was watching the trafficking from a distance, was well pleased with the issue thereof, though she grieved sore at losing the maiden. Wherefore she consoled herself by reflecting that when it comes to the choice of evils it is ever wiser to avoid the greater. The merchant, having set sail from Salerno with his carven chest and other valuable wares, voyaged to the island of Britain, known to us today as England, and landed at a port near which the country was spread out in a vast plain. Before he had been there long, Genese, who had lately been crowned king of the island, happened to be riding along the seashore, chasing a fine stag, which, in the end, ran down to the beach and took to the water. The king, feeling wary and worn with the long pursuit, was fain to rest awhile, and, having caught sight of the ship, he sent to ask the master of it to give him something to drink; and the latter, feigning to be ignorant he was talking to the king, greeted Genese familiarly, and gave him a hearty welcome, finally prevailing upon him to go on board his vessel. The king, when he saw the beautiful clothes-chest so finely carved, was taken with a great longing to possess it, and grew so impatient to call it his own that every hour seemed like a thousand till he should be able to claim it. He then asked the merchant the price he asked for it, and was answered that the price was a very heavy one. The king, being now more taken than ever with the beautiful handicraft, would not leave the ship till he had arranged a price with the merchant, and, having sent for money enough to pay the price demanded, he took his leave, and straightway ordered the cassone to be borne to the palace and placed in his chamber. Genese, being yet over-young to wive, found his chief pleasure in going every day to the chase. Now that the cassone was transported into his bedroom, with the maiden Doralice hidden inside, she heard, as was only natural, all that went on in the king's chamber, and, in pondering over her past misfortunes, hoped that a happier future was in store for her. And as soon as the king had departed for the chase in the morning, and had left the room clear, Doralice would issue from the clothes-chest, and would deftly put the chamber in order, and sweep it, and make the bed. Then she would adjust the bed curtains, and put on the coverlet cunningly embroidered with fine pearls, and two beautifully ornamented pillows thereto. After this, the fair maiden strewed the bed with roses, violets, and other sweet-smelling flowers, mingled with Cyprian spices which exhaled a subtle odor and soothed the brain to slumber. Day after day Doralice continued to compose the king's chamber in this pleasant fashion, without being seen of anyone, and thereby gave Genese much gratification; for every day when he came back from the chase it seemed to him as if he was greeted by all the perfumes of the East. One day he questioned the queen his mother, and the ladies who were about her, as to which of them had so kindly and graciously adorned his room and decked the bed with roses and violets and sweet scents. They answered, one and all, that they had no part in all this, for every morning, when they went to put the chamber in order, they found the bed strewn with flowers and perfumes. Genese, when he heard this, determined to clear up the mystery, and the next morning gave out that he was going to hunt at a village ten leagues distant. But, in lieu of going forth, he quietly hid himself in the room, keeping his eyes steadily fixed on the door, and waiting to see what might occur. He had not been long on the watch before Doralice, looking more beautiful than the sun, came out of the cassone and began to sweep the room, and to straighten the carpets, and to deck the bed, and diligently to set everything in order, as was her wont. The beautiful maiden had no sooner done her kindly and considerate office, than she made as if she would go back to her hiding place. But the king, who had keenly taken note of everything, suddenly caught her by the hand, and, seeing that she was very fair, and fresh as a lily, asked her who she was; whereupon the trembling girl confessed that she was the daughter of a prince. She declared, however, that she had forgotten what was his name, on account of her long imprisonment in the cassone, and she would say nothing as to the reason why she had been shut therein. The king, after he had heard her story, fell violently in love with her, and, with the full consent of his mother, made her his queen, and had by her two fair children. In the meantime Tebaldo was still mastered by his wicked and treacherous passion, and, as he could find no trace of Doralice, search as he would, he began to believe that she must have been hidden in the coffer which he had caused to be sold, and that, having escaped his power, she might be wandering about from place to place. Therefore, with his rage will burning against her, he set himself to try whether perchance he might not discover her whereabouts. He attired himself as a merchant, and, having gathered together a great store of precious stones and jewels, marvelously wrought in gold, quitted Salerno unknown to anyone, and scoured all the nations and countries round about, finally meeting by hazard the trader who had originally purchased the clothes-chest. Of him he demanded whether he had been satisfied with his bargain, and into whose hands the chest had fallen, and the trader replied that he had sold the cassone to the King of England for double the price he had given for it. Tebaldo, rejoicing at this news, made his way to England, and when he had landed there and journeyed to the capital, he made a show of his jewels and golden ornaments, amongst which were some spindles and distaffs cunningly wrought, crying out the while, 'Spindles and distaffs for sale, ladies.' It chanced that one of the dames of the court, who was looking out of a window, heard this and saw the merchant and his goods; whereupon she ran to the queen and told her there was below a merchant who had for sale the most beautiful golden spindles and distaffs that ever were seen. The queen commanded him to be brought into the palace, and he came up the stairs into her presence, but she did not recognize him in his merchant's guise. Moreover, she was not thinking ever to behold her father again; but Tebaldo recognized his daughter at once. The queen, when she saw how fair was the work of the spindles and distaffs, asked of the merchant what price he put upon them. 'The prince is great,' he answered, 'but to you I will give one of them for nothing, provided you suffer me to gratify a caprice of mine. This is that I may be permitted to sleep one night in the same room as your children.' The good Doralice, in her pure and simple nature, never suspected the accursed design of the feigned merchant, and, yielding to the persuasion of her attendants, granted his request. But before the merchant was led to the sleeping chamber, certain ladies of the court deemed it wise to offer him a cup of wine well drugged to make him sleep sound, and when night had come and the merchant seemed overcome with fatigue, one of the ladies conducted him into the chamber of the king's children, where there was prepared for him a sumptuous couch. Before she left him the lady said, 'Good man, are you not thirsty?' 'Indeed I am,' he replied; whereupon she handed him the drugged wine in a silver cup. But the crafty Tebaldo, while feigning to drink the wine, spilled it over his garments, and then lay down to rest. Now there was in the children's a side door through which it was possible to pass into the queen's apartment. At midnight, when all was still, Tebaldo stole through this, and, going up to the bed beside which the queen had left her clothes, he took away a small dagger, which he had marked the day before hanging from her girdle. Then he returned to the children's room and killed them both with the dagger, which he immediately put back into its scabbard, all bloody as it was. And having opened a window he let himself down by a cord. As soon as the shopmen of the city were astir, he went to a barber's and had his long beard taken off, for fear he might be recognized, and having put on different clothes he walked about the city without apprehension. In the palace the nurses went, as soon as they awakened, to suckle the children; but when they came to the cradles they found them both lying dead. Whereupon they began to scream and to weep bitterly, and to rend their hair and their garments, thus laying bare their breasts. The dreadful tiding came quickly to the ears of the king and queen, and they ran barefooted and in their nightclothes to the spot, and when they saw the dead bodies of the babes they wept bitterly. Soon the report of the murder of the two children was spread throughout the city, and, almost at the same time, it was rumored that there had just arrived a famous astrologer, who, by studying the courses of the various stars, could lay bare the hidden mysteries of the past. When this came to the ears of the king, he caused the astrologer to be summoned forthwith, and, when he was come into the royal presence, demanded whether or not he could tell the name of the murderer of the children. The astrologer replied that he could, and whispering secretly in the king's ear he said, 'Sire, let all the men and women of your court who are wont to wear a dagger at their side be summoned before you, and if amongst these you shall find one whose dagger is befouled with blood in its scabbard, that same will be the murderer of your children.' Wherefore the king at once gave command that all his courtiers should present themselves, and, when they were assembled, he diligently searched with his own hands to see if any one of them might have a bloody dagger at his side, but he could find none. Then he returned to the astrologer -- who was no other than Tebaldo himself -- and told him how his quest had been vain, and that all in the palace, save his mother and the queen, had been searched. To which the astrologer replied, 'Sire, search everywhere and respect no one, and then you will surely find the murderer.' So the king searched first his mother, and then the queen, and when he took the dagger which Doralice wore and drew it from the scabbard, he found it covered with blood. Then the king, convinced by this proof, turned to the queen and said to her, 'O, wicked and inhuman woman, enemy of your own flesh and blood, traitress to your own children! What desperate madness has led you to dye your hands in the blood of these babes? I swear that you shall suffer the full penalty fixed for such a crime.' But though the king in his rage would fain have sent her straightway to a shameful death, his desire for vengeance prompted him to dispose of her so that she might suffer longer and more cruel torment. Wherefore he commanded that she should be stripped and thus naked buried up to her chin in the earth, and that she should be well fed in order that she might linger long and the worms devour her flesh while she still lived. The queen, seasoned to misfortune in the past, and conscious of her innocence, contemplated her terrible doom with calmness and dignity. Tebaldo, when he learned that the queen had been adjudged guilty and condemned to a cruel death, rejoiced greatly, and, as soon as he had taken leave of the king, left England, quite satisfied with his work, and returned secretly to Salerno. Arrived there, he told to the old nurse the whole story of his adventures, and how Doralice had been sentenced to death by her husband. As she listened, the nurse feigned to be as pleased as Tebaldo himself, but in her heart she grieved sorely, overcome by this love which she had always borne towards the princess, and the next morning she took horse early and rode on day and night until she came to England. Immediately she repaired to the palace and went before the king, who was giving public audience in the great hall, and, having thrown herself at his feet, she demanded an interview on a matter which concerned the honor of his crown. The king granted her request, and took her by the hand and bade her rise. Then, when the rest of the company had gone and left them alone, the nurse thus addressed the king, 'Sire, know that Doralice, your wife, is my child. She is not, indeed, the fruit of my womb, but I nourished her at these breasts. She is innocent of the deed which is laid to her charge, and for which she is sentenced to a lingering and cruel death. And you, when you shall have learnt everything, and laid your hand upon the impious murderer, and understood the reason which moved him to slay your children, you will assuredly show her mercy and deliver her from these bitter and cruel torments. And if you find that I speak falsely in this, I offer myself to suffer the same punishment which the wretched Doralice is now enduring.' Then the nurse set forth fully from beginning to end the whole history of Doralice's past life; and the king, when he heard it, doubted not the truth of it, but forthwith gave orders that the queen, who was now more dead than alive, should be taken out of the earth; which was done at once, and Doralice, after careful nursing and ministration by physicians, was restored to health. Next day King Genese stirred up through all his kingdom mighty preparations for war, and gathered together a great army, which he dispatched to Salerno. After a short campaign the city was captured, and Tebaldo, bound hand and foot, taken back to England, where King Genese, wishing to know the whole sum of his guilt, had him put upon the rack, whereupon the wretched man made full confession. The next day he was conducted through the city in a cart drawn by four horses, and then tortured with red-hot pincers like Gano di Magazza, and after his body had been quartered, his flesh was thrown to be eaten of ravenous dogs. And this was the end of the impious wretch Tebaldo. And King Genese and Doralice his queen lived many years happily together, leaving at their death divers children in their place. Bibliophiles, 1901), pp. 79-101 (night 1, tale 4). We know almost nothing about the personal life of Giovanni Francesco [also spelled Gianfrancesco] Straparola (ca. 1480 - ca. 1557). His two-volume work Le piacevoli notti (1550-1553), called in English Straparola, contains some 75 novellas and fairy tales, some of oriental origin. Obviously patterning his collection after Boccaccio's Decamerone, Straparola depicts here thirteen nights of revelry in a luxurious villa on the island of Murano near Venice. The participants add to the entertainment by telling one another stories. Included are tales of magic and the supernatural as well as bawdy jokes and anecdotes. Straparola's work is one of Europe's earliest collections of stories based largely on folklore.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Emperor Heinrich in Sudemer Mountain (Kuhn),Germany,Heinrich (Henry) the Fowler was born about 876 and died in 936. His wife Matilda founded many monasteries and is a saint of the Roman Catholic Church. Goslar in Lower Saxony is one of northern Germanys best preserved medieval cities. The incest motif in this legend is reminiscent of the type 510B folktales told throughout Europe. The 'sleeping hero' motif (type 766) is also found in numerous folktales and legends. Link to additional Sleeping Hero Legends.,"A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, 'Kaiser Heinrich in Sudemerberg,' Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen: Aus dem Munde des Volkes gesammelt (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), pp. 184-85.","After his grief had subsided somewhat, he revealed to his own daughter, who was almost more beautiful than her mother, his sinful desire to marry her. She appropriately resisted him, finally convincing him to first to travel to the courts of all the kings and counts in Europe in search of a spouse more beautiful than she. He traveled far and wide, but finally returned with the news that a more beautiful woman could not be found anywhere. But still she resisted his pleas and his advances. Finally he set the condition that he would desist from his demands if she could create a blanket upon which all of the earths animals could be seen. She went into a small chapel in the upper city and fervently prayed to God, but she found no comfort in her prayers, so finally in despair she called upon the devil to come and help her. He appeared immediately, saying that he would bring the blanket to her, if she could remain awake in the chapel for three days and three nights. She brought her little dog into the chapel with her and spent the time ceaselessly praying. However, during the third night, just as morning was breaking, sleep almost overcame her. At that moment the devil approached, and her little dog, seeing him, pulled at her skirt so vigorously that she jumped up. The devil angrily dropped the blanket, furiously threw the little dog against church wall, and disappeared. She took the blanket to her father, who then was overcome by such powerful pain that he lost all will to live. He bewitched himself into the Sudemer Mountain near Goslar, whose watchtower is visible throughout the region. There he sits until the present day, and will return only when Goslar finds itself in great need, or when the Day of Judgment arrives. Others say that the emperor is sitting in Rammel Mountain, and that before his death he had three stones mortared into the Goslars city wall, saying that he would return when these stones fall out. But no one knows which stones they are.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Fair Maria Wood (Crane),"Italy, Thomas Frederick Crane",NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1885), no. 10, pp. 48-52.","There was once a husband and wife who had but one child, a daughter. Now it happened that the wife fell ill and was at the point of death. Before dying she called her husband, and said to him, weeping, 'I am dying; you are still young; if you ever wish to marry again, be mindful to choose a wife whom my wedding ring fits; and if you cannot find a lady whom it fits well, do not marry.' Her husband promised that he would do so. When she was dead he took off her wedding ring and kept it until he desired to marry again. Then he sought for some one to please him. He went from one to another, but the ring fitted no one. He tried so many but in vain. One day he thought of calling his daughter, and trying the ring on her to see whether it fitted her. The daughter said, 'It is useless, dear father; you cannot marry me, because you are my father.' He did not heed her, put the ring on her finger, and saw that it fitted her well, and wanted to marry his daughter nolens volens. She did not oppose him, but consented. The day of the wedding, he asked her what she wanted. She said that she wished four silk dresses, the most beautiful that could be seen. He, who was a gentleman, gratified her wish and took her the four dresses, one handsomer than the other, and all the handsomest that had ever been seen. 'Now, what else do you want?' said he. 'I want another dress, made of wood, so that I can conceal myself in it.' And at once he had this wooden dress made. She was well pleased. She waited until one day her husband was out of sight, put on the wooden dress, and under it the four silk dresses, and went away to a certain river not far off, and threw herself in it. Instead of sinking and drowning, she floated, for the wooden dress kept her up. The water carried her a long way, when she saw on the bank a gentleman, and began to cry, 'Who wants the fair Maria Wood?' That gentleman who saw her on the water, and whom she addressed, called her and she came to the bank and saluted him. 'How is it that you are thus dressed in wood, and come floating on the water without drowning?' She told him that she was a poor girl who had only that dress of wood, and that she wanted to go out to service. 'What can you do?' 'I can do all that is needed in a house, and if you would only take me for a servant you would be satisfied.' He took her to his house, where his mother was, and told her all that had happened, saying, 'If you, dear mother, will take her as a servant, we can try her.' In short, she took her and was pleased with this woman dressed in wood. It happened that there were balls at that place which the best ladies and gentlemen attended. The gentleman who had the servant dressed in wood prepared to go to the ball, and after he had departed, the servant said to his mother, 'Do me this kindness, mistress: let me go to the ball too, for I have never seen any dancing.' 'What, you wish to go to the ball so badly dressed that they would drive you away as soon as they saw you!' The servant was silent and when the mistress was in bed, dressed herself in one of her silk dresses and became the most beautiful woman that was ever seen. She went to the ball, and it seemed as if the sun had entered the room; all were dazzled. She sat down near her master, who asked her to dance, and would dance with no one but her. She pleased him so much that he fell in love with her. He asked her who she was and where she came from. She replied that she came from a distance, but told him nothing more. At a certain hour, without anyone perceiving it, she went out and disappeared. She returned home and put on her wooden dress again. In the morning the master returned from the ball, and said to his mother, 'Oh! if you had only seen what a beautiful lady there was at the ball! She appeared like the sun, she was so beautiful and well dressed. She sat down near me, and would not dance with anyone but me.' His mother then said, 'Did you not ask her who she was and where she came from?' 'She would only tell me that she came from a distance; but I thought I should die; I wish to go again this evening.' The servant heard all this dialogue, but kept silent, pretending that the matter did not concern her. In the evening he prepared himself again for the ball, and the servant said to him, 'Master, yesterday evening I asked your mamma to let me, too, go to the ball, for I have never seen dancing, but she would not; will you have the kindness to let me go this evening?' 'Be still, you ugly creature, the ball is no place for you!' 'Do me this favor,' she said, weeping, 'I will stand out of doors, or under a bench, or in a corner so no one shall see me; but let me go!' He grew angry then, and took a stick and began to beat the poor servant. She wept and remained silent. After he had gone, she waited until his mother was in bed, and put on a dress finer than the first, and so rich as to astonish, and away to the ball! When she arrived all began to gaze at her, for they had never seen anything more beautiful. All the handsomest young men surrounded her and asked her to dance; but she would have nothing to do with anyone but her master. He again asked her who she was, and she said she would tell him later. They danced and danced, and all at once she disappeared. Her master ran here and there, asked one and another, but no one could tell him where she had gone. He returned home and told his mother all that had passed. She said to him, 'Do you know what you must do? Take this diamond ring, and when she dances with you give it to her; and if she takes it, it is a sign that she loves you.' She gave him the ring. The servant listened, saw everything, and was silent. In the evening the master prepared for the ball and the servant again asked him to take her, and again he beat her. He went to the ball, and after midnight, as before, the beautiful lady returned more beautiful than before, and as usual would dance only with her master. At the right moment he took out the diamond ring, and asked her if she would accept it. She took it and thanked him, and he was happy and satisfied. Afterward he asked her again who she was and where from. She said that she was of that country, and said no more. At the usual hour she stopped dancing and departed. He ran after her, but she went like the wind, and reached home without his finding out where she went. But he ran so in all directions, and was in such suffering, that when he reached home he was obliged to go to bed more dead than alive. Then he fell ill and grew worse every day, so that all said he would die. He did nothing but ask his mother and everyone if they knew anything of that lady, and that he would die if he did not see her. The servant heard everything; and one day, when he was very ill, what did she think of? She waited until her mistress's eye was turned, and dropped the diamond ring in the broth her master was to eat. No one saw her, and his mother took him the broth. He began to eat it, when he felt something hard, saw something shine, and took it out. You can imagine how he looked at it and recognized the diamond ring! They thought he would go mad. He asked his mother if that was the ring and she swore that it was, and all happy, she said that now he would see her again. Meanwhile the servant went to her room, took off her wooden dress, and put on one all of silk, so that she appeared a beauty, and went to the room of the sick man. His mother saw her and began to cry, 'Here she is; here she is!' She went in and saluted him, smiling, and he was so beside himself that he became well at once. He asked her to tell him her story: who she was, where she came from, how she came, and how she knew that he was ill. She replied, 'I am the woman dressed in wood who was your servant. It is not true that I was a poor girl, but I had that dress to conceal myself in, for underneath it I was the same that I am now. I am a lady; and although you treated me so badly when I asked to go to the ball, I saw that you loved me, and now I have come to save you from death.' You can believe that they stayed to hear her story. They were married and have always been happy and still are.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Kniaz Danila Govorila (Ralston2),Russia,Ralston's source: Alexander Afanasyev.,"W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-Tales (London: Smith, Elder, and Company, 1873), pp. 159-60.","Sometimes it is a brother, instead of a father, from whom the heroine is forced to flee. Thus in the story of Kniaz Danila Govorila, Prince Daniel the Talker is bent upon marrying his sister, pleading the excuse so often given in stories on this theme, namely, that she is the only maiden whose finger will fit the magic ring which is to indicate to him his destined wife. While she is weeping 'like a river,' some old women of the mendicant-pilgrim class come to her rescue, telling her to make four Kukolki, or small puppets, and to place one of them in each corner of her room. She does as they tell her. The wedding day arrives, the marriage service is performed in the church, and then the bride hastens back to the room. When she is called for -- says the story -- the puppets in the four corners begin to coo: Kuku! Prince Danila! Kuku! Govorila! Kuku! He wants to marry, Kuku! His own sister. Kuku! Split open, O Earth! Kuku! Sister, disappear! The earth opens, and the girl slowly sinks into it. Twice again the puppets sing their song, and at the end of its third performance, the earth closes over the head of the rescued bride. Presently in rushes the irritated bridegroom. 'No bride is to be seen; only in the corners sit the puppets, singing away to themselves.' He flies into a passion, seizes a hatchet, chops off their heads, and flings them into the fire.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Maria Wood (Busk),Italy,NA,"Rachel Harriette Busk Roman Legends: A Collection of the Fables and Folk-Lore of Rome (Boston: Estes and Lauriat, 1877), pp. 84-90.","But this she said because the shoe was under a spell, and would fit no one whom he could marry. The king, however, caused the shoe to be tried on all manner of women; and when the answer always was that it would fit none of them, he grew quite bewildered and strange in his mind. After some years had passed, his young daughter, having grown up to girl's estate, came to him one day, saying, 'Oh, papa; only think! Mamma's shoe just fits me!' 'Does it!' replied the simple king; 'then I must marry you.' 'Oh, that cannot be, papa,' said the girl, and ran away. But the simple king was so possessed with the idea that he must marry the woman whom his wife's shoe fitted, that he sent for her every day and said the same thing. But the queen had not said that he should marry the woman whom her shoe fitted, but that he should not marry any whom it did not fit. When the princess found that he persevered in his silly caprice, she said at last, 'Papa, if I am to do what you say, you must do some thing for me first.' 'Agreed, my child,' replied the king; 'you have only to speak.' 'Then, before I marry,' said the girl, 'I want a lot of things, but I will begin with one at a time. First, I want a dress of the color of a beautiful noontide sky, but all covered with stars like the sky at midnight, and furnished with a parure to suit it.' Such a dress the king had made and brought to her. 'Next,' said the princess, 'I want a dress of the color of the sea, all covered with golden fishes, with a fitting parure.' Such a dress the king had made, and brought to her. 'Next,' said the princess, 'I want a dress of a dark blue, all covered with gold embroidery and spangled with silver bells, and with a parure to match.' Such a dress the king had made and brought to her. 'These are all very good,' said the princess; 'but now you must send for the most cunning artificer in your whole kingdom, and let him make me a figure of an old woman just like life, fitted with all sorts of springs to make it move and walk when one gets inside it, just like a real woman.' Such a figure the king had made, and brought it to the princess. 'That is just the sort of figure I wanted,' said she;' and now I don't want anything more.' And the simple king went away quite happy. As soon as she was alone, however, the princess packed all the three dresses and many of her other dresses, and all her jewelry and a large sum of money, inside the figure of the old woman, and then she got into it and walked away. No one seeing an old woman walking out of the palace thought she had anything to do with the princess, and thus she got far away without anyone thinking of stopping her. On, on, on, she wandered till she came to the palace of a great king, and just at the time that the king's son was coming in from hunting. 'Have you a place in all this fine palace to take in a poor old body?' whined the princess inside the figure of the old woman. 'No, no! get out of the way! How dare you come in the way of the prince!' said the servants, and drove her away. But the prince took compassion on her, and called her to him. 'What's your name, good woman?' said the prince. 'Maria Wood is my name, your Highness,' replied the princess. 'And what can you do, since you ask for a place?' 'Oh, I can do many things. First, I understand all about poultry, and then --' 'That'll do,' replied the prince; 'take her, and let her be the hen-wife, and let her have food and lodging, and all she wants.' So they gave her a little hut on the borders of the forest, and set her to tend the poultry. But the prince as he went out hunting often passed by her hut, and when she saw him pass she never failed to come out and salute him, and now and then he would stop his horse and spend a few moments in gossip with her. Before long it was Carnival time; and as the prince came by Maria Wood came out and wished him a 'good Carnival.' The prince stopped his horse and said, his young head full of the pleasure he expected, 'Tomorrow, you know, we have the first day of the feast.' 'To be sure I know it; and how I should like to be there; won't you take me?' answered Maria Wood. 'You shameless old woman,' replied the prince, 'to think of your wanting to go to a festino at your time of life!' and he gave her a cut with his whip. The next day Maria put on her dress of the color of the noontide sky, covered with stars like the sky at midnight, with the parure made to wear with it, and came to the feast. Every lady made place before her dazzling appearance, and the prince alone dared to ask her to dance. With her he danced all the evening, and fairly fell in love with her, nor could he leave her side; and as they sat together, he took the ring off his own finger and put it on to her hand. She appeared equally satisfied with his attentions, and seemed to desire no other partner. Only when he tried to gather from her whence she was, she would only say she came from the country of Whipblow, which set the prince wondering very much, as he had never heard of such a country. At the end of the ball, the prince sent his attendants to watch her that he might learn where she lived, but she disappeared so swiftly it was impossible for them to tell what had become of her. When the prince came by Maria Wood's hut next day, she did not fail to wish him again a 'good Carnival.' 'Tomorrow we have the second festino, you know,' said the prince. 'Well I know it,' replied Maria Wood; 'shouldn't I like to go! Won't you take me?' 'You contemptible old woman to talk in that way!' exclaimed the prince. 'You ought to know better!' and he struck her with his boot. Next night Maria put on her dress of the color of the sea, covered all over with gold fishes, and the parure made to wear with it, and went to the feast. The prince recognized her at once, and claimed her for his partner all the evening, nor did she seem to wish for any other, only when he tried to learn from her whence she was, she would only say she came from the country of Bootkick. The prince could not remember ever to have heard of the Bootkick country, and thought she meant to laugh at him; however, he ordered his attendants to make more haste this night in following her; but what diligence so ever they used she was too swift for them. The next time the prince came by Maria Wood's hut, she did not fail to wish him again a 'good Carnival.' 'Tomorrow we have the last festino!' exclaimed he, with a touch of sadness, for he remembered it was the last of the happy evenings that he could feel sure of seeing his fair unknown. 'Ah! you must take me. But, what'll you say if I come to it in spite of you?' answered Maria Wood. 'You incorrigible old woman!' exclaimed the prince; 'you provoke me so with your nonsense, I really cannot keep my hand off you;' and he gave her a slap. The next night Maria Wood put on her dress of a dark blue, all covered with gold embroidery and spangled with silver bells, and the parure made to wear with it. The prince constituted her his partner for the evening as before, nor did she seem to wish for any other, only when he wanted to learn from her whence she was, all she would say was that she came from Slapland. This night the prince told his servants to make more haste in following her, or he would discharge them all. But they answered, 'It is useless to attempt the thing, as no mortal can equal her in swiftness.' After this, the prince fell ill of his disappointment, because he saw no hope of hearing any more of the fair domino with whom he had spent three happy evenings, nor could any doctor find any remedy for his sickness. Then Maria Wood sent him word, saying, 'Though the prince's physicians cannot help him, yet let him but take a cup of broth of my making, and he will immediately be healed.' 'Nonsense! how can a cup of broth, or how can any medicament, help me!' exclaimed the prince. 'There is no cure for my ailment.' Again Maria Wood sent the same message; but the prince said angrily, 'Tell the silly old thing to hold her tongue; she doesn't know what she's talking about.' But again, the third time, Maria Wood sent to him, saying, 'Let the prince but take a cup of broth of my making, and he will immediately be healed.' By this time the prince was so weary that he did not take the trouble to refuse. The servants finding him so depressed began to fear that he was sinking, and they called to Maria Wood to make her broth, because, though they had little faith in her promise, they knew not what else to try. So Maria Wood made ready the cup of broth she had promised, and they put it down beside the prince. Presently the whole palace was roused; the prince had started up in bed, and was shouting, 'Bring hither Maria Wood! Quick! Bring hither Maria Wood!' So they ran and fetched Maria Wood, wondering what could have happened to bring about so great a change in the prince. But the truth was, that Maria had put into the cup of broth the ring the prince had put on her finger the first night of the feast, and when he began to take the broth he found the ring with the spoon. When he saw the ring, he knew at once that Maria Wood could tell where to find his fair partner. 'Wait a bit! There's plenty of time!' said Maria, when the servant came to fetch her in all haste; and she waited to put on her dress of the color of the noontide sky. The prince was beside himself for joy when he saw her, and would have the betrothal celebrated that very day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Morag a Chota Bhain -- Margery White Coats (Campbell2),Scotland,NA,"J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands: Orally Collected, vol. 1 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1860), pp. 225-26.","The king saw them from a window, and wished to marry her, and she went for advice to her mother's brother. He advised her to promise to marry the king if he would bring her a gown of birds' down, and a gown of the colors of the sky, woven with silver; and when he got that, a gown of the colors of the stars, woven with gold, and glass shoes. When he had got them, she escaped with all her clothes, by the help of her uncle, on a filly, with a magic bridle, she on one side, and her chest of clothes on the other. She rode to a king's palace, hid the chest in a hill under a bush of rushes, turned the filly loose, and went to the palace with nothing on but a white petticoat and a shift. She took service with the cook, and grew dirty and ugly, and slept on a bench by the kitchen fire, and her work was to blow under the great caldron all day long. One day the king's son came home, and was to hold a feast; she went to the queen and asked leave to go, and was refused because she was so dirty. The queen had a basin of water in her hand, and threw it at her, and it broke. She went to the hill, took out the dress of down and silver, and shook her magic bridle; the filly came, and she mounted, and rode to the feast. The king's son took her by the hand, and took her up as high as any there, and set her on his own lap; and when the feast was over, there was no reel that he danced but he gave it to her. He asked her whence she came, and she said, 'From the kingdom of Broken Basins,' and the prince said that he had never heard of that land, though he had travelled far. She escaped and returned to the cook, and all were talking about the beautiful lady. She asked about her, and was told not to talk about what she did not understand, 'a dirty little wretch like her.' Then the prince had another feast; and she asked leave again, and the queen refused, and threw a candlestick at her, and it broke, and she did as before. She put on another dress and went; the king's son had eight men on each side of the door to catch her. The same scene went on, and she said she came from the country of Candlesticks, and escaped, leaving a glass shoe. Then the king's son fell sick (of course), and would only marry the woman whom the shoe would fit; and all the ladies came and cut off their toes and heels, but in vain. Then he asked if there was none other. Then a small creature put his head in at the door and said, 'If thou didst but know, she whom thou seekest is under the cook.' Then he got the history of the basin and candlestick from his mother. The shoe was tried and fitted, and he was to marry Morag. All were in despair, and abused her; but she went out to her chest, shook the magic bridle, and arrayed herself, and came back on the filly, with a 'powney' behind with the chest. Then all there that had despised her fell on their knees, and she was married to the prince. 'And I did not get a bit there at the wedding,' said the girl. The girl and her chest on the same horse may be seen in the Highlands. The girl, in her white coats and short gown, may be seen blowing the fire in highland inns, the queen's likeness might be found; and the feast is a highland ball; the filly and the magic bridle are common in other stories; the incidents of the basin and candlestick have an equivalent in Norse; and I got them from a woman at the Sound of Barra afterwards, in another story. This shows what may be lost by dignified traveling. While the man was enjoying himself in the kitchen, the employer was smoking in solitary dignity, upstairs in his bedroom, writing a journal, and utterly unconscious that the game he pursued was so near. I have other versions of this tale from other sources, and may find room for them hereafter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Pigskin (Ralston1),Ukraine,Ralston's source: Alexander Afanasyev.,"W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-Tales (London: Smith, Elder, and Company, 1873), p. 159.","In a Little-Russian [Ukrainian] variant of one of those numerous stories, current in all lands, which commence with the escape of the heroine from an incestuous union, a priest insists on marrying his daughter. She goes to her mother's grave and weeps there. Her dead mother 'comes out from her grave,' and tells her what to do. The girl obtains from her father a rough dress of pig's skin, and two sets of gorgeous apparel; the former she herself assumes, in the latter she dresses up three Kuklui, which in this instance were probably mere blocks of wood. Then she takes her place in the midst of the dressed-up forms, which cry, one after the other, 'Open, O moist earth, that the fair maiden may enter within thee!' The earth opens, and all four sink into it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Rashen Coatie (Buchan),Scotland,Link to a version of this tale that omits the father's attempt to marry the heroine: Rashin-Coatie.,"Ancient Scottish Tales: An Unpublished Collection Made by Peter Buchan, with an introduction by John A. Fairley (Peterhead, Scotland, 1908), pp. 29-32. Reprinted from the transactions of the Buchan Field Club. Buchan assembled this collection between 1827 and 1829.","At an early period, when a plurality of kings reigned in Scotland, it chanced that one of them had lost his queen; and one of the queens had lost her husband. These two, the widow and widower were married, each of them having had a daughter in their first marriage, it caused a good deal of dissention and strife, particularly as the king's daughter was a perfect model of beauty, and the queen's daughter as much so of deformity; but the king willing to indulge his queen as much as possible, and for the sake of keeping peace in his own house, he often winked at the bad treatment his daughter received from her stepmother, all because she was more handsome and fair than her beloved but ugly daughter. Her treatment was however so very bad, that she was put to herd her father's cattle; while the queen's daughter wallowed in all the luxuries of a court endowed with peace and plenty. Rashen Coatie, (for so shall the king's daughter be called), having her meat, which was of the coarsest fare, brought her by the queen's favourite daughter daily, she had learned from some kind fairy how to charm her asleep when partaking of her food, which she did on her immediate arrival, by repeating the following words: Lay down your head upon my knee, And well looked after it there shall be, Then sleep ye one eye or sleep ye two, Ye soon shall see what power can do. These words had the desired effect of lulling her sound asleep, which no sooner took place than a genii in the shape and form of a calf, brought her meats and dainties of every description, of which she partook heartily, unknown to all but her favourite calf. The queen being now wearied with trying all the arts that mischief could devise, to bring Rashen Coatie's beauty to a level with her daughter's; or to raise her daughter's beauty to that of Rashen Coatie's; thought she must have some hidden means of subsistence, as all the stratagems she tried were always attended with want of success. On consulting her henwife, who was a witch, how she should behave in this critical juncture; the witch said she would give her an eye in her neck, by which sight she would be able to discover many things, particularly how Rashen Coatie was fed and maintained without her perceiving it. Accordingly the queen went next day to the castle to discover Rashen Coatie's friends, and discovered how she was fed, owing to an omission of Rashen Coatie's. She found that it was the calf that fed her, which made her long to get it destroyed. The king though loath to deprive his daughter of her only companion, her favourite calf, he was obliged to comply with the queen's imperious demands, in order to suppress the wrangling and strife which were daily taking place among his domestics, particularly by his queen. Rashen Coatie having discovered the queen's intention, mourned over her ravenous appetite, with streaming eyes and bleached cheeks. The calf having the power of speech, requested her not to be alarmed at what was to take place, but to gather together all the bones into one mass, and place them beneath a particular stone, and in a short time they would revive and come to life again. This having been done as commanded, everything came to pass as predicted by the calf; and the malicious queen having partook of the entrails of the calf, lingered and died of a disease hitherto unknown in that part of the country. Her daughter now became of contempt, despised and hooted by everyone. Rashen Coatie's sun now began to shine in meridian splendour; she was gentle and mild, humble to everyone, which gained her the esteem and good will of both great and small. Her beauty having kept pace with her virtue, her father took such a liking to her, as to wish to marry her; but this being quite contrary to her principles of sound morality, she grew melancholy, every day more and more, and lingered out a weary existence, till having met with her calf, she asked it what was best to be done under such pressing difficulties. The calf advised her to ask from her father a gown and petticoat made of the rashes that grew on the bonny burn side, in which she was to be drest. This having been accomplished; she then requested of him to give her a dress composed of all the colours of the birds of the air. This also having been given her; she demanded a new suit of variegated colours, composed of all those appearances that float in the air, and in the earth beneath. Having obtained all these varieties; she had now no excuse but to comply with her father's wishes, which were to accompany him to the altar, where all things were ready for the marriage ceremony. Having thus far complied with his wishes, she went, but on arriving at the place appointed, she started back, exclaiming, that she had forgotten her marriage ring. Her father, to prevent her returning home, said he had one which would answer the purpose perfectly well; but she insisted on having her mother's ring, and must needs return for it, but promised to be back in a few minutes. Again, she had recourse to the advice of her calf, which was to dress herself in her rashen weed, and to leave her father's kingdom with all speed. This was accordingly done, and she wandered far till she came to a hunting lodge, kept by the prince of that country. Here she made free to enter, and go to the prince's bed to rest her wearied limbs, which had undergone much toil and fatigue in the course of a long and laborious travel. When the prince came to his lodge, he was surprised to find a sleeping beauty in his bed, as it was in a sequestered part of his kingdom, where few inhabitants were to be found. She soon made her escape from him, and went to his father's palace, where she asked a place as a menial servant, which was granted, and thereby put into the kitchen to assist the cook in turning the spits which groaned with the weight of the meat that was roasting for their majesties' dinner. Here she continued for some time, doing all the drudgery of the meanest servant. Christmas, however, came on, when great preparations were made for church. Rashen Coatie also wished to appear among the rest, but was denied permission by the master cook. But it so happened that, on the first yule day, when all were gone, and she left alone in the kitchen to attend the meat, she said to the spits, peats, and pots, to do their duty till she returned; which was accordingly done. The words of the charm which she made use of on this occasion were as follows: Every spit gar another turn, Every peat gar another burn, Every pot gar another play Till I return on good yule day. These did as desired; when she went and dressed herself in rich attire. On arriving at the church, she placed herself in a conspicuous part of the seat, nearly opposite to where the young prince was sitting. He caught more of the flame of love than of the minister's spiritual exhortations, and could scarcely contain himself from making enquiries during the sermon. She went in the same manner all the holy days of yule, but every day more and more superbly drest. The prince at length determined on discovering her rank and place of abode, if possible, little thinking that it was his own menial, Rashen Coatie, as her history seemed to be a mystery to everyone. The term of her secrecy seemed to be now at end; for hurrying home on the last day, she dropped one of her shoes, which were so completely fitted to her feet, that it was supposed it would suit no one else. The prince, on having found the shoe, which was of pure gold, caused to be proclaimed throughout all the regions of his father's kingdom round about, that everyone should have free liberty to try on the shoe, and whomsoever the shoe fitted best, was to be his bride. Many trials were made, but all to no purpose, till the henwife's daughter caused her heels and toes to be pared; by which process she got it forced on her foot. Agreeably to the proclamation, it therefore became the prince to marry her, with which he was to comply, but with a heavy heart. On their way to the marriage seat, a small bird fluttered over their heads, crying as they went: Clipped heels and pared toes. They're in the kitchen the shoe on goes. The prince hearing the voice of the bird, requested to know its meaning, when it was explained. With joy he returned to his father's castle, much against the henwife's inclination, when it was found that Rashen Coatie, who hurkled in the kitchen, had not got an opportunity of trying on the shoe. On presenting her with the shoe, it went easily on, but what was more to their surprise and astonishment, she pulled out its fellow, and put it on before them. They, of course, we need not add, were immediately married, and lived long and happy. Shortly after the marriage, they paid a visit to her father's court in great pomp and grandeur, by whom they were most cordially received, and his kingdom, at his death, bestowed on them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Seggu-Jataka: How a Pious Greengrocer Tested His Daughter's Virtue (Jataka217),"India, The Jataka","Link to a different version of this tale, mentioned in the above text: 'Pannika-Jataka: To Test His Daughter's Virtue, a Man Makes Love to Her,'The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, translated from the Pali by various hands, under the editorship of E. B. Cowell; vol. 1, translated by Robert Chalmers (Cambridge: University Press, 1895), book 1, no. 102, p. 244.","The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, translated from the Pali by various hands, under the editorship of E. B. Cowell; vol. 2, translated by W. H. D. Rouse (Cambridge: University Press, 1895), book, 2, no. 217, p. 126.","This story the Master told, while dwelling at Jetavana, about a greengrocer who was a lay-brother. The circumstances have been already given in the First Book [Jataka 102]. Here again the Master asked him where he had been so long; and he replied, 'My daughter, Sir, is always smiling. After testing her, I gave her in marriage to a young gentleman. As this had to be done, I had no opportunity of paying you a visit. To this the Master answered, 'Not now only is your daughter virtuous, but virtuous she was in days of yore; and as you have tested her now, so you tested her in those days. And at the man's request he told an old-world tale: Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was a tree spirit. This same pious greengrocer took it into his head to test his daughter. He led her into the woods, and seized her by the hand, making as though he had conceived a passion for her. And as she cried out in woe, he addressed her in the words of the first stanza: All the world's on pleasure bent; Ah, my baby innocent! Now I've caught you, pray don't cry; As the town does, so do I. When she heard it, she answered, 'Dear Father, I am a maid, and I know not the ways of sin'; and weeping she uttered the second stanza: He that should keep me safe from all distress, The same betrays me in my loneliness; My father, who should be my sure defense, Here in the forest offers violence. And the greengrocer, after testing his daughter thus, took her home, and gave her in marriage to a young man. Afterwards he passed away according to his deeds.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The Beautiful Princess (Schleicher),Lithuania,NA,"August Schleicher, Litauische Märchen, Sprichworte, Rätsel und Lieder (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1857), pp. 10-12.","Once upon a time there was a king who had a beautiful wife. She had stars on her forehead, the sun on top of her head, and the moon on the back of her head, but she soon died. The king had a daughter who was just as beautiful as his wife. He traveled far and wide to seek another wife, but found no one as beautiful as his first wife had been. Therefore he decided to marry his own daughter, but she did not want to marry him. She was not able to change his mind, so she told him to buy for her a louse-coat (a coat lined with louse pelts), a silver dress, a diamond ring, and golden shoes. The king had an old kinswoman. The evening before the wedding the princess asked her what she should do. The old woman advised her to pack her things and run away, so that night she left. The next morning the king looked for his girl, but could not find her. He asked everyone, 'Haven't you seen her? Haven't you seen my bride?' But no one could give him any information. When the princess ran away she came to a river. She boarded a boat, but the ferryman did not want to transport her. He said, 'If you will not promise to give yourself to me, I will drown you here and now.' She refused him, and he threw her overboard, but she jumped to the water's edge. She continued onward, without knowing where she was going. Then she came to some cliffs, and said, 'Oh, dear God, if only there were a room here!' Then the cliffs did indeed open into a room, and she went inside. Everything there was just what she had wished for. She soon went out, leaving her beautiful clothes in the room, and it turned back into a cliff, just as before. She went to an estate where she found a position as a Cinderella. Her brother was there as well. He too had left their father, and was employed in the estate as a secretary. He had a servant, and whenever he told his servant to bring him water or his boots, Cinderella ran and brought them to him. And every time she did this, he would throw them at her. She asked her mistress for permission to return home now and then. But instead of going home she went back to the cliffs, and whenever she approached them, they again opened up into a room, and then she would put on her beautiful clothes. Then every time a coach would drive up and take her to church. The secretary was also at church, and he saw the beautiful girl. Therefore he went to church the next Sunday, and the girl was there as well. Her mistress had told her that she had to return before the secretary did. However, one day she was late, and she did not have time to take off her beautiful clothes. Instead she put on her everyday clothes over the beautiful ones. The secretary told his servant to have her come and delouse him. She did not want to do this, and said, 'You have never needed me to do that before, and you don't need me to do it now.' But after the servant had called her a second and a third time, she had to go. While she was looking through his hair, he was examining her clothing, coming finally to the coat. Then he raised his head from her knees, ripped the scarf from her head, and immediately recognized her as his sister. Then they left the estate, and no one knows where they went.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The Emperor's Daughter in the Pig Stall (Schott),Romania,NA,"Arthur and Albert Schott, 'Die Kaiserstochter im Schweinstall,' Walachische Maehrchen (Stuttgart: J. G. Cotta, 1845), pp. 96-100.","The emperor was astonished at this monstrous requirement, but in order to achieve his goal he depleted his treasury, and what was still needed he forcefully took from his subjects. Thus he collected enough wealth to have a diamond dress made than cost ten thousand times what the golden one had cost. The princess was startled when he brought it to her, and asked for one day to think things through. The emperor granted her this, and she discussed the situation with her nurse, who advised her to demand a dress that he certainly would not be able to have made: one made entirely of louse pelts, and trimmed with flea pelts. When the emperor heard the princess's latest wish he became angry, but said nothing. Instead he issued the order to have such a dress made. It took an entire year to collect all the pelts and hides for this dress, and yet another year before they were all sewn together. Then emperor brought the dress to his daughter, and this time the princess -- following the old woman's advice -- let the marriage between herself and her father take place. That evening, after entering the bridal chamber with him, she asked for permission to step outside for a moment. He refused, for he did not trust her and thought that she wanted to escape from him. She gave him a piece of string, tying one end around her own left hand, and told him that if she did not come back in time, he would only have to pull her in. So the hateful father finally agreed, and the princess slipped out the door, where her nurse was standing ready with an old bill goat, and they quickly tied the string around its horns. Then the princess put on all her dresses -- first the one of diamonds, over that the one of gold, then the silver one, and over them all the disgusting one that the emperor had just had made. Then she fled. Meanwhile the emperor waited impatiently, finally pulling gently on the string. Outside the billy goat pulled back. The emperor finally pulled hard, but the billy goat would not be outdone in such a tug-of-war. Finally the emperor, filled with rage, jumped up and went to the door. To his astonishment, instead of his charming daughter he found there a shaggy black billy goat, which rudely attacked him with its horns. The emperor retreated into the bridal chamber, and called for his people, who -- led by the nurse -- came to him. The emperor vented his anger with a storm of curse words. He told of his adventure and ordered that the billy goat be taken away. The nurse began to shriek, 'See here, you tyrannical father, see what you have caused? God has punished you because of your wicked marriage. He has transformed your daughter into this terrible horned monster!' With these and many other words, the cunning nurse convinced the deceived ruler that the just anger of God had caused this miracle. Filled with shame, he said nothing more about the matter. Meanwhile the princess fled into a great forest, where -- since the season was right -- she lived from berries and nuts that she found in the bushes. Now it happened that the prince of the kingdom to which these woods belonged was hunting there. Evening was approaching when the prince, accompanied by just one servant, pursued a wild boar into a deep thicket. To his great astonishment he saw there an unusual forest creature. Not knowing what to make of it, he aimed an arrow at it. When he saw that it was not moving, he climbed the tree and captured the unknown animal alive. With great clamor the forest creature was led through the city to the palace. There, because of its disgusting fur, it was turned over to the swineherd, who locked it in his worst pig stall, above which was a chicken coop. Thus the unknown forest creature's fur became even filthier. From the scraps that they brought it to eat, it would take only berries and nuts from the forest. Soon afterward there was a glorious festival in the city. The son of a well-known gentleman was getting married. All the beautiful and important people were gathered there: maidens, ladies, and gentlemen, whatever their names. When evening came the princess, pulled off her disgusting garb, revealing the silver dress beneath it, left the pig stall, and went to the wedding. The prince, who was also there, saw her and danced with her; and because he found her so extraordinarily beautiful he gave her a valuable ring, after having spoken with her, and in the end having danced only with her. Morning approached, and the unknown beauty disappeared from the hall without anyone observing where she went. The princess had put her stall garb back on and was peacefully asleep in the pig stall. On the second evening she again appeared at the wedding, this time in her golden dress. The prince, who had been looking for her, was very happy to see her, and did not leave her side, for he wanted to know who this exceptionally wealthy gleaming beauty was. However, although he watched her carefully, trying to prevent her from escaping again, she took advantage of an opportune moment and slipped away. Before anyone noticed her absence she was again hidden beneath her filthy garb in the pig stall. On the third evening the mysterious maiden once again appeared at the wedding. Her glorious diamond dress astonished everyone. The prince thought that a maiden wearing such an incalculably costly dress must be of high nobility, but he was a thousand times more impressed by her personal beauty. He happily conversed with her alone, but to his dismay she would not tell him who she was or where she came from. As morning approached she again slipped away from the hall so cunningly that neither the prince nor anyone else noticed her leave. The wedding was now over, and the prince had no hope of seeing his mysterious beloved again. This made him seriously ill. The princess sat in her pig stall, but not as calmly as earlier, for she too had fallen in love. A few days passed, and the prince, almost dying of longing, did not leave his bed. Then one of his friends came to visit him, and he ordered breakfast for the prince. The strange forest creature appeared to be quiet and well-behaved, so they let it run about freely. On this morning it had gone to the kitchen to warm itself by the fire, for it was cold in the stall. Reluctantly the kitchen maid had allowed this, and the forest creature was cowering next to the stove. When milk was placed on the fire, the forest creature asked who it was for. Learning that it was for the prince, she secretly pulled from her finger the ring that the prince had given her at the wedding, and dropped it into the pot. After warming herself, she crept back to the pig stall, put on her diamond dress, and was once again the most beautiful princess. Meanwhile the prince was eating breakfast with his friend, and he was shocked almost to death to discover at the bottom of the milk pot the ring that he had given to his beloved mysterious stranger. He immediately summoned the kitchen maid who had prepared his breakfast, but she swore that she did not know how the ring came to be in the pot. The prince investigated further: Who else had been in the kitchen. Finally the girl admitted, after resisting for a long time, that the ugly forest creature had been there warming itself by the fire. The prince and his friend immediately went to the stall where the disgusting forest creature was kept. He opened the door and looked inside, then took three steps back in joyful surprise. There sat his beautiful and beloved mysterious stranger, dressed in her glorious gown. She stepped out and said, 'I am the one, my prince!' Answering his questions as to how she had come to this horrible place, she told him her story, which astonished everyone. Then the prince tenderly took his beloved princess into his arms. Soon thereafter, to the pleasure of the entire court, a magnificent wedding brought this story to a happing end.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The Horse's Skin (Coelho),Portugal,"Although in this tale the incest motif has been suppressed, most elements of the plot coincide with those of traditional type 510B folktales.","Francisco Adolpho Coelho, Tales of Old Lusitania from the Folk-Lore of Portugal, translated by Henriqueta Monteiro (London: Swan, Sonnenschein, and Company, 1888), pp. 51-60.","Many years had elapsed since his queen died, and he began to feel lonely without a partner in life, and one who could occupy the vacant seat beside him on the throne, so he resolved to visit a certain court where a princess lived, whom he admired, and to make an offer of marriage to her. The princess, who was selfish and only cared for her own comfort, asked the king before accepting his offer, what he intended to do with his daughters, as she did not want them about her in the palace. 'If my daughters,' replied the king, 'are a hindrance to our union, I can soon dispose of them, and send them where you will never see them or hear of them.' On his return to the palace he said to his daughters, 'Get ready at once to go with me to the Tower of Moncorvo, where I will show you what you have never seen before in your life.' The daughters, full of confidence in their father, and not suspecting any treachery, readily prepared to accompany him, and after travelling many leagues arrived at the celebrated tower. When the king had them safe in the castle, he said to his daughters, 'Remain here, whilst I pay a short visit to a friend and worthy subject, who lives in this neighbourhood. On my return I will take you back to the palace.' The wicked king, who only made up this excuse to blind his daughters to his real intentions, fastened the great gates of the tower as he went out, so that his daughters could not possibly escape. He supplied them with food every day until his marriage day, but after that he never concerned himself about them any more, but left them to their fate. Hours passed, and days came and went, and still no succour arrived, and they began to be in a dreadful state, without a morsel of food or water to refresh them. And so it happened that one day, when they had given up all hopes of being relieved, and were nearly dead from starvation, the eldest of the princesses said to her sisters, 'Why should we all starve? The best thing you two can do is to kill me and feed upon me as long as I afford you sustenance.' She had hardly said these words when she dropped down dead from want. A few days after this sad event the surviving princesses were again short of food, and nothing was left them but to die. Then the second sister, remembering what the first one had so generously done, followed her example, and suggested that her younger sister should kill her for food; and when she had finished uttering the last words of her advice she also dropped down and died. The poor young girl, now left alone in the large dreary castle, felt very disconsolate, and rent the air with her lamentations. But after a while, being of a courageous mind, she thought to herself that weeping was no remedy for her woes, and that she must devise some means of escape from her prison before she became faint again with want. She now set about examining the various rooms of which the castle was composed, and when she reached the top of the watchtower she looked out and saw a ship sailing on the ocean. Overjoyed at the sight, she at once began to make signals, waving her handkerchief in hopes of attracting the notice of someone in the vessel. The sailors were not slow to perceive the signal, and calling up their captain, drew his attention to it. The captain, who was a humane and chivalrous man, directed the ship towards the spot, and effected an entrance by scaling the wall of the fortress. On reaching the watchtower, the captain and the sailors that accompanied him were shocked to see a maiden of such rank and beauty treated worse than a common criminal. They took her up tenderly and lowered her into the vessel, and sailing to a port of safety they landed her, together with a chest in which she had packed some of her own and her sisters' dresses. As she stood on the seashore she glanced around her, and felt the wretchedness of her situation, without a home or friends to whom to apply for shelter. She had not been long immersed in these melancholy thoughts when she perceived an old woman coming towards her, whom she felt sure was a good benevolent person. She approached her and addressed her thus: 'My good woman, do you know of anyone that would give me shelter and a meal for today? I am willing to work for it.' 'If you want employment come and draw water from the well, and help me to carry it to the house I work for; there you will get a meal, and in the evening you can take up your quarters in my little cottage.' 'Tell me first,' replied the princess, 'what house it is you work for?' 'Oh! I draw water for our king's palace.' The young maiden consented to help the old woman, but as she could not work in her fine clothes, she had a garment made for her of the skin of a horse, and thus disguised she did not think that anyone would take her for a princess. Every day she went to the well and helped the old woman to draw water and carry the pitchers to the palace; and from the odd garments she wore everyone in the palace called her 'Horse-Skin.' One day as she entered the palace yard, carrying a pitcher of water poised on her head in a light and graceful manner, which showed off her elegant figure, a page, who had often noticed her beauty, and secretly suspected that the girl was not born to do this drudgery, and that there was some mystery about her, accosted her very respectfully, and said: 'Do you know that our good king is going to give balls for three nights running, so that he may choose himself a wife from among the dancers? The prettiest girl is to carry off the prize, and the king, as a mark of his choice, is to give her a ring -- and what a ring that will be! I wish you could manage to go.' 'What have I to do with balls, a poor girl like me? It is all very well for princesses and fine people. I shall turn in at my old woman's tonight, as usual.' When the princess had done her work she went home, and that evening being the first night of the balls at the palace, she dressed herself in her eldest sister's clothes, and went to the ball. When she entered the ballrooms, which were brilliantly lighted up, all eyes were turned upon her, and before the end of the dance she was pronounced by all present as most beautiful. The king was not long in discovering her charms, and caused great jealousy among the ladies by asking her again and again to dance with him, and loading her with delicate and polite attentions. But she slipped out of the palace early, before the king had time to notice her absence. The next day Horse-Skin was again toiling and carrying water to the palace as if nothing had happened. As she entered the palace yard the page again accosted her, and repeated what he had said the day before. 'Have I not told you, man, that all this does not concern me? What is it to me whether the king gives a ball or not? I shall go home to my old lady and spend the evening resting after my hard work.' The princess went to the second ball in her second sister's dress, which set off her beauty even more than the first had done. A number of partners were anxious to dance with her, but they had little chance, for the king mostly danced with her. He treated the princess with the profoundest respect as he gazed on her loveliness, and dared not ask her who she was. But she with her usual discretion left the ballroom at a moment when the king's attention was engaged by other guests; and next morning, as usual, Horse-Skin was at her duties in the palace. The page once again came up to her and said in a beseeching tone: 'Do, Horse-Skin, go to the last ball, which is to take place in the palace tonight, for the king is to give the ring tonight to the fairest lady and the one he admires most! You should have seen what jealousy there was among the ladies that attended the ball last night; they say it is useless for them to go to the ball again, as the king would not so much as look at them, or speak a word to them. All his interest was centred on a lovely and mysterious maiden who attended the last two dances, and who, I assure you, has nearly turned the king's brain with love; you should see her smile, her coral lips, her star-like eyes -- the very image of yours, I declare! -- and the fascinating manner in which she danced -- there -- I only wish I was a prince to marry her!' The princess's only reply to all this, was: 'Leave me alone; what matters it to me whom the king admires? Tonight I shall be at my old woman's, as usual.' At the last ball the princess wore her own robes, the colour, stuff, and make of which harmonised with her beauty still more than did her sister's garments; and as she mingled among the invited in the state apartments that night, she outshone all the other ladies -- princesses, marchionesses, duchesses, and squires' daughters -- like a brilliant gem of the first water. The king, fairly captivated, danced with her alone, and towards the end of the evening gave her the ring, as the sign of his having chosen her to be his spouse and queen. And though he had set several of his court courtiers to watch and see which way she took when she left the palace, the princess eluded their vigilance, and departed without being noticed even by the sentinels at the palace gate. Next day the king was sorely puzzled and grieved when, on making enquiries, he found that no one in the palace could give him the slightest information about the lady to whom he had given the ring, in token of his admiration and choice. He ordered a search through all the country round, to find out, if possible, who the maiden was; but all was of no avail, for the damsel could not be discovered high or low. At this the king, from grief and disappointment, sickened, and lay in a stupor for days together, until the physicians began to fear he would not live much longer. One day Horse-Skin met his majesty's nurse, and asked her how the king was. The nurse said the king was so ill that he was not expected to live through the day, all through the violent passion his majesty had conceived for the damsel to whom he had given the ring, and of whom no traces could be found. 'And,' said she, 'unless the cruel girl makes herself known to his majesty soon, we shall lose our beloved king.' The nurse was at the time carrying some broth to give to the king; and Horse-Skin took this opportunity to drop the ring into the basin, without the nurse perceiving her. Great was the king's surprise when he discovered the ring; and the nurse being asked who had put that ring in his broth, replied that she did not know, and that the only person that had come near her, when carrying the basin, was poor Horse-Skin. The king then sent for Horse-Skin, and bade her tell him who had given her the ring which she had dropped into the basin. 'If your majesty will allow me to leave your presence for a few minutes, I will tell you, on my return, who gave the ring to me.' She had not been absent long when she returned to the king dressed in her own rich garments, and adorned as she had appeared at the last ball in the palace. She stood before the king, and said, 'Does your majesty know me now?' 'Of course I do, you are the same sweet damsel to whom I gave the ring.' 'Very well,' said the princess, 'I am she who dropped it in the broth, and I am your humble servant, Horse-Skin.' 'Explain yourself, you are still a mystery to me.' Thereupon the princess related the history of her life, which she did amid tears and sobs, as it brought back to her mind all she had suffered since her cruel father had deserted her and her sisters. The king from being sad, was now delighted to have found his lost love, and soon recovered from his illness, and was once more full of health. The king then led her to a magnificently furnished chamber where she was to remain until his marriage with her, as he would not let her return to the old woman's cottage. The happy pair were married amid great rejoicings, and the king and his beautiful bride were heartily welcomed by his subjects, who had mourned his absence from state affairs. They reigned happily for many long years.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The King Who Wished to Marry His Daughter (Campbell),Scotland,"Campbell's source: Ann Darroch, Islay.","J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands: Orally Collected, vol. 1 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1860), pp. 219-22.","She went crying where her muime was; and her foster mother said to her, 'What was the matter with her?' She said, 'that her father was insisting that he would marry her.' Her muime told her to say to him, 'that she would not marry him till he should get her a gown of the swan's down.' He went, and at the end of a day and a year he came, and the gown with him. She went again to take the counsel of her muime. 'Say to him,' said her muime, 'that thou wilt not marry him till he gets thee a gown of the moorland canach.' She said this to him. He went, and at the end of a day and year he returned, and a gown of the moorland canach with him. 'Say now to him,' said her muime, 'that thou wilt not marry him till he brings thee a gown of silk that will stand on the ground with gold and silver.' At the end of a day and year he returned with the gown. 'Say to him now,' said her muime, 'that thou wilt not marry him till he brings thee a golden shoe, and a silver shoe.' He got her a golden shoe and a silver shoe. 'Say to him now,' said her muime, 'that thou wilt not marry him unless he brings thee a kist that will lock without and within, and for which it is all the same to be on sea or on land.' When she got the kist, she folded the best of her mother's clothes, and of her own clothes in it. Then she went herself into the kist, and she asked her father to put it out on the sea to try how it would swim. Her father put it out; when it was put out, it was going, and going, till it went out of sight. It went on shore on the other side; and a herd came where it was, intending to break it, in hopes that there were findings in the chest. When he was going to break it she called out, 'Do not so, but say to thy father to come here, and he will get that which will better him for life.' His father came, and he took her with him to his own house. It was with a king that he was herd, and the king's house was near him. 'If I could get,' said she, 'leave to go to service to this great house yonder.' 'They want none,' said the herd, 'unless they want one under the hand of the cook.' The herd went to speak for her, and she went as a servant maid under the hand of the cook. When the rest were going to the sermon; and when they asked her if she was going to it, she said, 'that she was not; that she had a little bread to bake, and that she could not go to it.' When they went away, she took herself to the herd's house, and she put on a gown of the down of the swan. She went to the sermon, and she sat opposite the king's son. The king's son took love for her. She went a while before the sermon skailed, she reached the herd's house, she changed her clothes, and she was in before them. When the rest came home, it was talking about the gentlewoman that was at the sermon they were. The next Sunday they said to her, 'Was she going to the sermon?' and she said, 'that she was not, that she had a little bread to bake.' When they went away, she reached the herd's house, and she put on a gown of the moorland canach; and she went to the sermon. The king's son was seated where she was the Sunday before, and she sat opposite to him. She came out before them, and she changed, and she was at the house before them; and when the rest came home, it was talking about the great gentlewoman that was at the sermon they were. The third Sunday, they said to her, 'Was she going to the sermon?' and she said, 'that she was not, that she had a little bread to bake.' When they went away, she reached the herd's house. She put on the gown that would stand on the ground with gold and silver, and the golden shoe and the silver shoe, and she went to the sermon. The king's son was seated where she was the Sunday before, and she sat where he was. A watch was set on the doors this Sunday. She arose, she saw a cranny, and she jumped out at the cranny; but they kept hold of one of the shoes. The king's son said, 'Whomsoever that shoe would fit, she it was that he would marry.' Many were trying the shoe on, and taking off their toes and heels to try if it would fit them; but there were none whom the shoe would fit. There was a little bird in the top of a tree, always saying as everyone was trying on the shoe, 'Beeg beeg ha nan doot a heeg ach don tjay veeg a ha fo laiv a hawchkare.' -- Wee wee, it comes not on thee; but on the wee one under the hand of the cook. When he could get none whom the shoe would fit, the king's son lay down, and his mother went to the kitchen to talk over the matter. 'Won't you let me see the shoe?' said she. 'I will not do it any harm at all events.' 'Thou! thou ugly dirty thing, that it should fit thee.' She went down, and she told this to her son. 'Is it not known,' said he, 'that it won't fit her at all events? And can't you give it her to please her?' As soon as the shoe went on the floor, the shoe jumped on her foot. 'What will you give me,' said she, ' to let you see the other one?' She reached the herd's house, and she put on the shoes, and the dress that would stand on the floor with gold and silver. When she returned, there was but to send word for a minister, and she herself and the king's son married.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The Princess and the Golden Cow (Barclay),England,Barclay's source: 'The following variant ... was told to myself and sisters when wer were children by a servant from the Lizard district of Cornwall.',"Isabella Barclay, 'The Princess and the Golden Cow,' Folklore, vol. 1, no. 4 (December 1890), Supplement, p. 149.","One there was a king who had a daughter, being very beautiful, and he loved her so much he wanted to marry her. Here I forget details, but the princess was in great trouble, especially as she loved a prince who lived a long way off, and he loved her. She had made (or got her father to give her) a beautiful golden cow as large as a real one. She made arrangements in some manner (details forgotten) to have the golden cow conveyed under pretence of its being a parting gift or token of remembrance to the prince. She got inside it, and went in the cow a long journey by sea. There was a signal prearranged (details forgotten) of three knocks on the cow to show when she could come out safely. But when she had gone a long way the cow was landed (I think the captain of the ship was in the secret, and was to see to her reaching the prince), but people came to see the cow, for it was very curious, amongst them three gentlemen who wanted to be able to say they had touched it, and one poked it with his umbrella (sic), and said, 'I've touched the golden cow,' and the next poked it with his umbrella, and said, 'I've touched the golden cow,' and the third poked it with his umbrella, and said, 'I've touched the golden cow.' With that the princess opened the door and came out, for she thought those three knocks were the signal. Then the prince turned up, after some adventures that I have forgotten, and all ended happily. Folklore, vol. 1, no. 4 (December 1890), Supplement, p. 149. sisters when wer were children by a servant from the Lizard district of Cornwall.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The Princess in the Cat-Skins (Kennedy),Ireland,NA,"Patrick Kennedy, The Fireside Stories of Ireland (Dublin: M'Glashan and Gill, 1870), pp. 81-87).","'I took you too sudden,' said he. 'Sleep on it, and you can give me an answer tomorrow.' She was in great trouble all the rest of the day, and when the evening came she went out into the paddock, where a beautiful filly she used to ride was grazing. 'Oh my poor beast! ' said she, 'I'm sure if you knew my trouble you'd pity me.' 'I do know your trouble, and I pity you, and I'll help you too,' says the filly. 'I'm the fairy that watched over you from the time you were born, and I am here near you since your mother married the second time. Your stepfather is an enchanter, but he'll find me too strong for him. Don't seem shocked when he'll ask your consent tomorrow, but say you must have first a dress of silk and silver thread that will fit into a walnut shell. He'll promise, and will be able to get it made too, but I'll bother his spinner and his weaver long enough before he'll get it wove, and his seamstress after that, before it's sewed.' The princess done as she was bid, and the enchanter was in great joy; but he was kept in great trouble and anger for a full half year before the dress was ready to go on the princess. At last it was fitted, and he asked her was she ready to be his wife. 'I'll tell you tomorrow,' said she. So she went to consult her filly in the paddock. Well, the next day he put the question to her again, and she said that she couldn't think of marrying anyone till she had another dress of silk and gold thread that would fit in a walnut shell. 'I wish you had mentioned itself and the silver dress together. Both could have been done at the same time. No matter. I'll get it done.' Whatever trouble the spinner and the weaver and the seamstress had with the other dress, they had twice it with this; but at last it was tried on, and fitted like a glove. 'Well now,' says Fear Dhorrach, 'I hope you're satisfied, and won't put off the wedding again.' 'Oh, you must forgive me,' said she, 'for my vanity.' She was talking to the filly the evening before. 'I can't do without a dress of silk thread as thick as it can be with diamonds and pearls no larger than the head of a minnikin pin. Three is a lucky number, you know.' 'Well, I wish you had mentioned this at first, and the three could be making together. Now this is the very last thing you'll ask, I expect.' 'Oh, I'll never ask another, you may depend, till I'm married.' She didn't say till we're married. The dress came home at last. Well, the same evening she found on her bed another made from bottom to top of cat-skins, and this she put on. She put her three walnut shells in her pocket, and then stole out to the stable, where she found her filly with a bridle in her mouth, and the nicest side-saddle ever you saw on her back. Away they went, and when the light first appeared in the sky they were a hundred miles away. They stopped at the edge of a wood, and the princess was very glad to rest herself on a bunch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. She wasn't a minute there when she fell asleep; and soundly she did sleep, till she was woke up by the blowing of bugles and the yelping of beagles. She jumped up in a fright. There was no filly near her, but half a hundred spotted hounds were within forty perches of her, yelling out of them like vengeance. I needn't tell you she was frightened. She had hardly power to put one foot past the other, and she'd be soon tore into giblets by the dogs on account of her dress, but a fine young hunter leaped over their heads, and they all fell back when he shook his whip and shouted at them. So he came to the princess, and there she was as wild looking as you please, with her cat-skins hanging round her, and her face and hands and arms as brown as a berry, from a wash she put on herself before she left home. Well that didn't hinder her features from being handsome, and the prince was astonished at her beauty and her color and her dress, when he found she was a stranger, and alone in the world. He got off his horse, and walked side by side with her to his palace, for he was the young king of that country. He sent for his housekeeper when he came to the hall door, and bid her employ the young girl about whatever she was fit for, and then set off to follow the hounds again. Well, there was great tittering in the servants' hall among the maids at her color and her dress, and the ganders of footmen would like to be joking with her, but she made no freedom with one or the other, and when the butler thought to give her a kiss, she gave him a light slap on the jaw that wouldn't kill a fly, but he felt as if a toothache was at him for eight and forty hours. By my word, the other buckeens did not give her an excuse to raise her hand to them. Well, she was so silent and kept herself to herself so much, that she was no favorite, and they gave her nothing better to do than help the scullery maid, and at night she had to put up with a little box of a place under the stairs for a bedroom. The next day, when the prince returned from hunting, he sent word to the housekeeper by the whipper-in to let the new servant bring him up a basin and towel till he'd wash before dinner. 'Oh, ho!' says the cook, 'there's an honor for Cat-Skin. I'm here for forty years and never was asked to do such a thing; how grand we are! purshuin to all impedent people!' The princess didn't mind their jibes and their jeers. She took up the things, and the prince delayed her ever so long with remarks and questions, striving to get out of her what rank of life she was born in. As little as she said he guessed her to be a lady. I suppose it is as hard for a lady or gentleman to pass for a vulgarian, as for one of us to act like one of the quality. Well to be sure! all the cold and scornful noses that were in the big kitchen before her; and it was, 'Cat-Skin, will you hand me this? Cat-Skin, will you grease my shoes? Cat-Skin, will you draw a jug of beer for me?' And she done everything she was asked without a word or a sour look. Next night the prince was at a ball about three miles away, and the princess got leave from the housekeeper to go early to bed. Well, she couldn't get herself to lie down. She was in a fever like; she threw off her outside dress, and she stepped out into the lawn to get a little fresh air. There what did she behold but her dear filly under a tree. She ran over, and threw her arms round her neck, and kissed her face, and began to cry. 'No time for crying!' says the filly. 'Take out the first walnut shell you got.' She did so, and opened it. 'Hold what's inside over your head,' said the other, and in a moment the silk and silver dress wrapped her round as if a dozen manty-makers were after spending an hour about it. 'Get on that stump,' says the filly, 'and jump into the side-saddle.' She did so, and in a few minutes they were at the hall door of the castle where the ball was. There she sprung from her saddle, and walked into the hall. Lights were in the hall and everywhere, and nothing could equal the glitter of the princess's robes and the accoutrements of her steed. It was like the curling of a stream in the sun. You may believe that the quality were taken by surprise, when the princess walked in among them as if they were the lords and ladies in her father's court. The young king came forward as he saw the rest were a little cowed, and bade her good evening and welcome; and they talked whatever way kings and queens and princesses do, and he made her sit on his own seat of honor, and took a stool or a chair near her, and if he wasn't delighted and surprised, her features were so like the scullery maid's, leave it till again. They had a fine supper and a dance, and the prince and she danced, and every minute his love for her was increasing, but at last she said she should go. Every one was sorry, and the prince more than anyone, and he came with her to the hall, and asked might he see her safe home. But she showed him her filly and excused herself. Said he, 'I'll have my brown horse brought, and myself and my servants will attend you.' 'Hand me up on my filly,' says she, ' first of all,' and, be the laws, I don't know how princes put princesses on horseback. Maybe one of the servants stoops his back, and the prince goes on one knee, and she steps first on his knee and then on the servant's back, and then sits in the saddle. Anyhow she was safe up, and she took the prince's hand, and bid him good night, and the filly and herself were away like a flash of lightning in the dark night. Well, everything appeared dismal enough when he went back to where a hundred tongues were going hard and fast about the lady in the dazzling dress. Next morning he bid his footman ask the girl in the cat-skin to bring him hot water and a towel for him, to shave. She came in as modest and backward as you please; but whenever the prince got a peep at her face, there were the beautiful eyes and nose and mouth of the lady in the glittering dress, but all as brown as a bit of bogwood. He thought to get a little talk out of her, but dickens a word would come out of her mouth but yes or no. And when he asked her was she of high birth, she turned off the discourse and wouldn't say one thing or the other; and when he asked would she like to put on nice clothes and be about his mother, she refused just as if he asked her to drown herself. So he found he could make nothing of her, and let her go down stairs. There was another great ball in a week's time, and the very same thing took place again. There was the princess, and the dress she had on was of silk and gold thread, and the darlintest little gold crown in the world over her purty curling hair. If the prince was in love before, he was up to his eyes in it this time; but while they were going on with the nicest sweet talk, says she, 'I'm afraid, prince, that you are in the habit of talking lovingly to every girl you meet.' Well, he was very eager to prove he was not. 'Then,' said she, 'a little bird belied you as I was coming through the wood. He said that you weren't above talking soft even to a young servant girl with her skin as brown as a berry, and her dress no better than cat-skin.'' 'I declare to you, princess,' said he, 'there is such a girl at home, and if her skin was as white as yours, and her dress the same, no eye could see a bit of differ between you.' 'Oh, thankee, prince!' says she, 'for the compliment; it's time for me to be going.' Well, he thought to mollify her, but she curled her upper lip and cocked her nose, and wasn't long till she left, the way she did before. While she was getting on her filly, he almost went down on his knees to her to make it up. So at last she smiled, and said, 'If I can make up my mind to forgive you, I'll come to the next ball without invitation.' So she was away, and when they came under the tree in the lawn she took the upper hem of her dress in her fingers and it came off like a glove, and she made her way in at the hack door, and into her crib at the stair-foot. The prince slept little that night, and in the morning he sent his footman to ask the girl in the cat-skins to bring up a needle and thread to sew a button on his shirt sleeve. He watched her fingers, and saw they were small and of a lovely shape; and when one of them touched his wrist, it felt as soft and delicate as silk. All he could say got nothing out of her only, 'It wasn't a nice thing for a prince to speak in that way to a girl of low degree, and he boasting of it after to princesses and great ladies.' Well, how he did begin to deny anything so ungenteel, but the button was sewed, and she skipped away downstairs. The third night came, and she shook the dress of silk and pearls and diamonds over her, and the nicest crown of the same on her head. As grand and beautiful as she was before, she was twice as grand now; and the lords and ladies hardly dared to speak above their breaths, and the prince thought he was in heaven. He asked her at last would she be his queen, and not keep him in misery any longer, and she said she would, if she was sure he wouldn't ask Miss Cat-Skin the same question next day. Oh, how he spoke, and how he promised! He asked leave to see her safe home, but she wouldn't agree. 'But don't be downcast,' said she. 'You will see me again sooner than you think; and if you know me when you meet me next, we'll part no more.' Just as she was sitting in her saddle, and the prince was holding her hand, he slipped a dawny limber ring of gold on one finger. It was so small and so nice to the touch he thought she wouldn't feel it. 'And now, my princess,' says he to himself, 'I think I'll know you when I meet you.' Next morning he sent again for the scullery girl, and she came and made a curtchy. 'What does your majesty want me to do?' said she. 'Only to advise me which of these two suits of clothes would look best on me; I'm going to be married.' 'Ah, how could the likes of me be able to advise you? Is the rich dressed lady, that I heard the footmen talking about, to be your queen?' 'Yourself is as likely to be my wife as that young lady.' 'Then who is it?' 'Yourself, I tell you.' ' Myself! How can your majesty joke that way on a poor girl? They say you're promised to the lady of the three rich dresses.' 'I'm promised to no one but yourself. I asked you twice already to be my queen; I ask you now the third time.' 'Yes, and maybe after all, you'll marry the lady of the dresses.' 'You promised you'd have me if I knew you the next time we'd meet. This is the next time. If I don't know you, I know my ring on your fourth finger.' She looked, and there it was sure enough. Maybe she didn't blush. 'Will your majesty step into the next room for a minute,' said she, 'and leave me by myself?' He did so, and when she opened the door for him again, there she was with the brown stain off her face and hands, and her dazzling dress of silk and jewels on her. Wasn't he the happy prince, and she the happy princess? And weren't the noisy servants lewd of themselves when they saw poor Cat-Skin in her royal dress saying the words before the priest? They didn't put off their marriage, and there was the fairy now in the appearance of a beautiful woman; and if I was to tell you about the happy life they led, I'd only be tiring you.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The Princess Who Would Not Marry Her Father (Pedroso),Portugal,"Consiglieri Pedroso, Portuguese Folk-Tales, translated from the original manuscript by Henriqueta Monteiro (London: Folk Lore Society, 1882), no. 16, pp. 66-72.",NA,"She then ran to the king her father, and said, 'Sire, do you know that a ring which I found on the table fits me as though it had been made expressly for me! . . .' The king, on hearing this, replied, 'Oh! my daughter, you will have to marry me, because your mother, before she died, expressed a wish that I should marry whoever this ring would fit.' The princess, greatly distressed, shut herself up in a room which had the window looking into the garden, and gave vent to her grief. Soon, however, a little old woman appeared to her, and asked her, 'Why do you weep, royal lady?' To which the princess replied, 'Well, what else can I do? My father says that I must marry him.' The little old woman then said to her, ' Listen to me, royal lady, go and tell your father that you will only marry him on condition that he buys you a dress of the color of the stars in the heavens.' And after saying this she departed. The princess then went up to the king, who asked her, 'Well, my daughter, are we to be married?' To which she replied, 'Well, father, I shall marry you when you bring me a dress of the color of the stars in the heavens.' The father, on hearing this, went out and bought her the dress, and gave it to her readymade. The princess again went to her room to cry. The little old woman again appeared to her, and asked her, 'What ails you, royal lady?' She replied, 'What can ail me! My father has bought me the dress I asked him for, and he wishes to marry me.' The old lady rejoined, 'Never mind, you must now ask him to bring you a dress of the color of the flowers that grow in the fields.' The princess again went to her father and told him that she could only marry him on condition of his bringing her a robe of the color of wild flowers. The king bought the dress and gave it to her made up, and quite ready to be put on. The princess, again in trouble, retired to her chamber to weep. The old lady again appeared and demanded, 'What ails you, royal lady? ' To which the princess replied, 'What can ail me, indeed! My father has bought me the second robe, and is determined to marry me.' The good old lady rejoined, 'Ask your father now for a robe of various colors.' The princess did so, and asked for a robe of various colors, and the king bought her the dress and brought it to her ready to be put on. The princess returned to her chamber to weep over her new trouble, but the little old woman came to her and asked her what troubled her. The princess replied that the king had bought her the third robe she required of him, and was now determined that the marriage should take place. 'And now what shall I do to prevent it? ' inquired the princess. The little old woman replied, 'Royal lady, you must now send for a carpenter and order him to make you a dress of wood; get inside it and go to the palace of the king who lives yonder, who requires a servant to tend the ducks.' The princess did as she was told, had a dress made of wood, put all her jewels, and everything else she would require, inside, and getting inside it herself; and one fine day she ran away. She walked on and on until she arrived at the said palace. She knocked at the door, and told the servants to ask his majesty the king if he required a maid to mind the ducks. He replied that he did ; and he asked her what her name was, and she rejoined that her name was Maria do Pau; and after this the king sent her to tend the ducks, which were in a field next to the palace gardens. The moment the princess reached it she took off everything she had on, and the wooden dress also; she washed herself, as she was travel-stained, and then put on the richest robe she had, which was the one the color of the stars. The king was taking a walk in the garden, and noticed a lovely maiden who was in the field driving the ducks, and heard her repeat When she had finished saying this she killed one of the ducks; then took off her robes, and again got into her wooden dress. At night she went indoors, saying, 'Oh! king, I have killed one of the ducks.' The king asked her, 'Maria do Pau, who was that beautiful maiden so splendidly robed that minded the ducks?' To this she said, 'Indeed there was no one else there but myself in disguise.' Next day the king again sent Maria do Pau to tend the ducks. And when she was in the field she did the same thing as the day before. She took off her wooden dress, washed and combed herself carefully, put on the robe the color of wild flowers, and went about driving the ducks, saying as before Ducks here, ducks there, The daughter of a king tends the ducks, A thing never seen before! After which she killed another duck. Next day she did as the day before, put on the robe of many colors, and killed another duck. In the evening when she went indoors, the king said to her, 'I do not wish you to take care of the ducks any longer, for every day we find a duck has been killed! Now you shall remain locked up in the house. We are to have a feast which will last three days, but I promise you that you shall not enjoy it, for I shall not allow you to go to it.' To this she said to the king, 'Oh! my liege, do let me go.' But the king replied, 'No, indeed, you shall not go.' On the first day of the feast she again begged of the king to allow her to repair to it, and his majesty replied, 'God, preserve me! What would be the consequences of taking Maria do Pau to the feast!' The king put on his gala robes and then sent for her to his chamber, asked her what dress she would like to put on, and the princess replied by asking him to give her a pair of boots, which the king threw at her and took his departure for the feast. She then repaired to her chamber and removed from inside the dress made of wool a wand she had, which the little old woman, who was a fairy, had given her, and holding it up she said, 'Oh! divining rod, by the virtue that God gave you, send me here the best royal carriage, which is the very one that took the king to the feast.' The carriage was instantly in sight, and entering it she made her appearance at the feast, in the robe of the color of the stars. The king, who had his eyes continually fixed upon her, went out to the guards and told them not to allow the maiden to pass. But when she wished to get out she threw them a bag of money, and the guards allowed her to pass, but they asked her to what country she belonged, to which she replied that she came from the land of the boot. The king went home, and on arriving found the princess was already in the palace. The king, who wished to find out whether the lovely maiden which he had seen at the feast could possibly be Maria do Pau, went to see if she was safe in her chamber, and afterwards sent for her and said to her, 'Oh! Maria do Pau, do you happen to know where the land of the boot is situated?' 'Oh! my liege, do not come troubling me with your questions. Is it possible that your majesty does not know where the land of the boot is situated?' The king replied, 'I do not. A maiden was at the feast. I asked her where she came from, and she said that she came from the land of the boot, but I do not know where that is.' Next day the king again attended the feast, but before leaving he said to Maria do Pau, ''You shall not be allowed to go there.' 'Do allow me for once,' replied she. The king then asked her to give him the towel, and as she presented him with it he threw it at her, and departed for the feast. The princess repaired to her room, struck the divining rod, and put on the robe, which was the color of the wild flowers. The king who had been charmed with her on the first day of the feast, now admired her all the more, because she appeared more beautiful than ever. He went out to the guards and told them to ask the beautiful maiden when she passed to what country she belonged; and when she went out she informed them that she was from the land of the towel. As soon as the king was told of this he returned to the palace to think over, and try to guess, if possible, where the land of the towel could be situated. And when he arrived at the palace the first thing he did was to ask his maid if she knew where the land of the towel could be found. To his inquiries she replied, 'Well, well! here comes a king who does not know, and cannot tell, where the land of the towel is situated! Neither do I know.' The king now said, 'Oh! Maria do Pau, every time that I have been at the feast I have seen such a pretty maiden. If the one I saw yesterday was beautiful, the one of today is perfectly lovely, and much more charming than the first.' Next day as the king was on the point of going out the princess said to his majesty, 'Oh! my liege, let me go to the feast, that I may see the maiden that is so beautiful!' The king replied, 'God, preserve me! What would be the result if I were to present you before that maiden?' After which he asked her to give him his walking stick, and as he was going out he struck her with it. He went to the feast, and when there the princess presented herself before him in the robe of many colors. If on the previous days she appeared most beautiful, on this day of the feast she looked perfectly ravishing, and more interesting than ever. The king fixed his eyes upon her so as not to lose sight of her, as he wished to see her go out, and follow her to where she lived, as it was the last day of the feast. But the king missed seeing her depart after all, and he could find her nowhere. He went to the guards and asked them what she had said, but the guards replied that she had come from the land of the walking stick. The king returned to the palace and inquired of his maid where the land of the walking stick could be found; but she replied, 'Oh! my liege, that I should know where the land of the walking stick is situated. Does not my liege know? Neither do I.' The king again asked her, 'Do you really not know? Today I again saw the same girl who is so beautiful; but I begin to think it cannot be the same one every time, because at one time she says that she comes from the land of the boot, next time that she is from the land of the towel, and lastly she says she is from the land of the walking stick. The princess repaired to her room, washed and combed herself, and dressed herself in the robe she had on on the first day of the feast. The king went to look through the keyhole to find out why she was so long away and remained in her chamber so quiet, and also to see what she was at. He saw a lovely maiden, the same one who had appeared at the feast dressed in the robe the color of the stars in the heavens, sitting down busy with some embroidery. When the princess left her chamber to repair to the dinner table again disguised the king said to her, 'Oh! Maria do Pau, you must embroider a pair of shoes for me.' She replied, 'Do I know how to embroider shoes?' and she left the parlor to go back to her chamber. Every day she put on one of the dresses she had worn at the feast, and on the last day she robed herself with the one of many colors. The king begged her every day to embroider him a pair of shoes, and she always returned the same answer. He had a key made to open the princess's room, and one day when he saw through the keyhole that she was robed in her best, he suddenly opened the door without her perceiving it and entered the chamber. The princess startled, and very much frightened, tried to run away, but the king said to her, 'Do not be troubled for you shall marry me! But I wish you first to tell me your history, and why it is that you wear a wooden dress.' The princess recounted all the events of her life, and the king married her. The king next sent for the little old woman who had given her the wand, to come and live in the palace, but she refused to live there because she was a fairy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The She-Bear (Basile),"Italy, Giambattista Basile",Basile's Il Pentamerone was first published in five installments between 1634 and 1636.,"Il Pentamorone; or, The Tale of Tales, translated by Richard F. Burton, vol. 1 (London: Henry and Company, 1893), pp. 181-90 (day 2, tale 6). Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman.","Now it is said that once upon a time there lived a king of Roccaspra, who had a wife who for beauty, grace, and comeliness exceeded all other women. Truly she was the mother of beauty, but this beautiful being, at the full time of her life, fell from the steed of health, and broke the threads of life. But before the candle of life was finally put out, she called her husband, and said, 'I know well, that you have loved me with excessive love, therefore show me a proof of your love and give me a promise that you will never marry, unless you meet one beautiful as I have been; and if you will not so promise, I will leave you a curse, and I will hate you even in the other world.' The king, who loved her above all things, hearing this her last will, began to weep and lament, and for a while could not find a word to say; but after his grief subsided, he replied, 'If I ever think of taking a wife, may the gout seize me, and may I become as gaunt as an asparagus; oh my love, forget it. Do not believe in dreams, nor that I can ever put my affection upon another woman. You will take with you all my joy and desire.' And while he was thus speaking, the poor lady, who was at her last, turned up her eyes and stretched her feet. When the king saw that her soul had taken flight, his eyes became fountains of tears, and he cried with loud cries, buffeted his face, and wept, and wailed, so that all the courtiers ran to his side. He continually called upon the name of that good soul and cursed his fate, which had deprived him of her, and tore his hair, and pulled out his beard, and accused the stars of having sent to him this great misfortune. But he did as others do. A bump on the elbow and the loss of a wife cause much pain, but it does not last. The one pain disappears at one's side, and the other into the grave. Night had not yet come forth to look about the heavens for the bats, when he began to make count on his fingers, saying 'My wife is dead, and I am a widower, and sad hearted without hope of any kind but my only daughter, since she left me. Therefore it will be necessary to find another wife that will bear me a son. But where can I find one? Where can I meet a woman endowed with my wife's beauty, when all other females seem witches in my sight? There is the rub! Where shall I find another like unto her? Where am I to seek her with a bell, if nature formed Nardella (may her soul rest in glory), and then broke the mould? Alas! in what labyrinth am I! What a mistake was the promise I made her! But what? I have not seen the wolf yet, but I am running away already. Let us seek, let us see, and let us understand. Is it possible, that there is no other donkey in the stable except for Nardella? Is it possible that the world will be lost for me? Will there be such a plague that all women will be destroyed and their seed lost?' And thus saying, he commanded the public crier to proclaim that all the beautiful women in the world should come and undergo the comparison of beauty, that he would take to wife the best looking of all, and make her the queen of his realm. This news spread in all parts of the world, and not one of the women in the whole universe failed to come and try this venture. Not even flayed hags stayed behind, they came by the dozen, because, when the point of beauty is touched, there is none who will yield, there is no sea monster who will give herself up as hideous; each and everyone boasts of uncommon beauty. If a donkey speaks the truth, the mirror is blamed for not reflecting the form as it is naturally; it is the fault of the quicksilver at the back. And now the land was full of women, and the king ordered that they should all stand in file, and he began to walk up and down, like a sultan when he enters his harem, to choose the best Genoa stone to sharpen his damascene blade. He came and went, up and down, like a monkey who is never still, looking and staring at this one and that one. One had a crooked brow, another a long nose, one a large mouth, and another thick lips. This one was too tall and gaunt, that other was short and badly formed, this one was too much dressed, another was too slightly robed. He disliked the Spanish woman because of the hue of her skin; the Neapolitan was not to his taste because of the way in which she walked; the German seemed to him too cold and frozen; the French woman too light of brains; the Venetian a spinning wheel full of flax. At last, for one reason or another, he sent them all about their business with one hand in front and another behind. Seeing so many beautiful heads of celery turned to hard roots and having resolved to marry nevertheless, he turned to his own daughter, saying, 'What am I seeking about these Marys of Ravenna, if my daughter Preziosa is made from the same mould as her mother? I have this beautiful face at home, and yet I should go to the end of the world seeking it?' Thus he explained to his daughter his desire, and was severely reproved and censured by her, as Heaven knows. The king was angry at her rejection, and said to her, 'Be quiet and hold your tongue. Make up your mind to tie the matrimonial knot with me this very evening; otherwise when I finish with you there will be nothing left but your ears.' Preziosa, hearing this threat, retired to her room, and wept and lamented her evil fate. And while she lay there in this plight, an old woman, who used to bring her cosmetics, came to her, and finding her in such a plight, looking like one more ready for the other world than for this one, enquired the cause of her distress. When the old woman learned what had happened, she said, 'Be of good cheer, my daughter, and despair not, for every evil has a remedy. Death alone has no cure. Now listen to me: When your father comes to you this evening -- donkey that he is, wanting to act the stallion -- put this piece of wood into your mouth, and you will at once become a she-bear. Then you can make your escape, for he will be afraid of you and let you go. Go straight to the forest, for it was written in the book of fate, the day that you were born, that there you should meet your fortune. When you want to turn back into a woman as you are and will ever be, take the bit of wood out of your mouth, and you will return to your pristine form.' Preziosa embraced and thanked the old woman, told the servants to give her an apron full of flour and some slices of ham, and sent her away. When the sun began to change her quarters like a bankrupt strumpet, the king sent for his minister, and had him issue invitations to all the lords and grandees to come to the marriage feast. They all crowded in. After spending five or six hours in high revelry and unrestrained eating, the king made his way to the bed chamber, and called to the bride to come and fulfil his desire. But she put the bit of wood into her mouth, and instantly took the shape of a fierce she-bear, and stood thus before him. He, frightened at the sudden change, rolled himself up in the bedding, and did not put forth a finger or an eye until morning. Meanwhile Preziosa made her way toward the forest, where the shadows met concocting together how they could annoy the sun. There she lay in good fellowship and at one with the other animals. When the day dawned, it happened by chance that the son of the King of Acquacorrente should come to that forest. He sighted the she-bear and was greatly frightened, but the beast came forward, and wagging her tail, walked around him, and put her head under his hand for him to caress her. He took heart at this strange sight, smoothed its head as he would have done to a dog, and said to it, 'Lie down, down, quiet, quiet, there there, good beast.' Seeing that the beast was very tame, he took her home with him, commanding his servants to put her in the garden by the side of the royal palace, and there to attend to and feed her well, and treat her as they would his own person, and to take her to a particular spot so that he might see her from the windows of his palace whenever he had a mind to. Now it so happened that one day all his people were away on some errand, and the prince being left alone, thought about the bear, and looked out of the window to see her. However, at that very moment Preziosa, believing she was utterly alone, had taken the bit of wood from her mouth, and stood combing her golden hair. The prince was amazed at this woman of great beauty, and he descended the stairs and ran to the garden. But Preziosa, perceiving the ambush, at once put the bit of wood into her mouth, and became a she-bear once more. The prince looked about, but could not see what he had sighted from above, and not finding what he came to seek, remained very disappointed, and was melancholy and sad hearted, and in a few days became grievously ill. He kept repeating, 'Oh my bear, oh my bear.' His mother, hearing this continual cry, imagined that perhaps the bear had bit him or done him some evil, and therefore ordered the servants to kill her. But all the servants loved the beast because it was so very tame, even the stones in the roadway could not help liking her, so they had compassion and could not think of killing her. Therefore they led her to the forest, and returning to the queen, told her that she was dead. When this deed came to the prince's ears, he acted as a madman, and leaving his bed, ill as he was, was about to make mincemeat of the servants. They told him the truth of the affair. He mounted his steed and searched backward and forward until at length he came to a cave and found the bear. He carried her home with him and put her in a chamber, saying, 'Oh you beautiful morsel fit for kings, why do you hide your passing beauty in a bear's hide? Oh light of love, why are you closed in such an hairy lantern? Why have you acted this way toward me, is it so that you may see me die a slow death? I am dying of despair, charmed by your beautiful form, and you can see the witness of my words in my failing health and sickening form. I am become skin and bone, and the fever burns my very marrow, and consumes me with heart-sore pain. Therefore lift the veil from that stinking hide, and let me behold once more your grace and beauty; lift up the leaves from this basket's mouth, and let me take a view of the splendid fruit within; lift the tapestry, and allow my eyes to feast upon the luxury of your charms. Who has enclosed in a dreary prison such a glorious work? Who has enclosed in a leather casket such a priceless treasure? Let me behold your passing grace, and take in payment all my desires. Oh my love, only this bear's grease can cure the nervous disease of which I suffer.' But perceiving that his words had no effect, and that all was time lost, he took to his bed, and his illness increased daily, until the doctors feared for his life. The queen, his mother, who had no other love in the world, sat at his bedside, and said to him, 'Oh my son, where does your heartsickness come from? What is the cause of all this sadness? You are young, you are rich, you are beloved, you are great. What do you want, my son? Speak, for only a shameful beggar carries an empty pocket. If you desire to take a wife, choose, and I will command; take, and I will pay. Can you not see that your sickness is my sickness and that your pulse beats in unison with my heart? If you burn with fever in your blood, I burn with fever on the brain. I have no other support for my old age but you. Therefore, my son, be cheerful, and cheer my heart, and do not darken this realm, and raze to the ground this house, and bereave your mother.' The prince, hearing these words, said, 'Nothing can cheer me, if I may not see the bear; therefore, if you desire to see me in good health again, let her stay in this room, and I do not wish that any other serve me, and make my bed, and cook my meals, if it be not herself, and if what I desire be done, I am sure that I shall be well in a few days.' To the queen it seemed folly for her son to ask that a bear should act as cook and housemaid. She believed that the prince must be delirious; nevertheless, to please his fancy, she went for the bear, and when the beast came to the prince's bedside she lifted her paw and felt the invalid's pulse. The queen smiled at the sight, thinking that by and by the bear would scratch the prince's nose. But the prince spoke to the bear, and said, 'Oh mischievous mine, will you not cook for me, and feed me, and serve me?' And the bear nodded yes with her head, showing that she would accept the charge. Then the queen sent for some chickens, and had a fire lit in the fireplace in the same chamber, and had a kettle with boiling water put on the fire. The bear took hold of a chicken, scalded it, dexterously plucked off its feathers, cleaned it, put half of it on the spit, and stewed the other half. When it was ready, the prince, who could not before eat even sugar, ate it all and licked his fingers. When he had ended his meal, the bear brought him some drink, and handed it so gracefully that the queen kissed her on the head. After this the prince arose, and went to the salon to receive the doctors, and to be directed by their judgment. The bear at once made the bed, ran to the garden and gathered a handful of roses and orange blossoms, which she scattered upon the bed. She fulfilled her various duties so well that the queen said to herself, 'This bear is worth a treasure, and my son is quite right in being fond of the beast.' When the prince returned to his chambers, and saw how well the bear had fulfilled her duties, it was like adding fuel to the fire. If he had been consumed himself in a slow fire before, he was now burning with intense heat. He said to the queen 'Oh my lady mother, if I cannot give a kiss to this bear, I shall give up the ghost.' The queen, seeing her son nearly fainting, said to the bear, 'Kiss him, kiss him, oh my beautiful bear, do not leave my poor son to die in despair.' Then the bear obediently neared the prince, who took her cheeks between his fingers, could not stop kissing her on the lips. While thus engaged, I do not know how it happened, the bit of wood fell from Preziosa's mouth, and she remained in the prince's embrace, the most beautiful and ravishing being in the world. He strained her to his bosom with tightly clasped arms, and said, 'You are caught at last, and you shall not escape so easily without a reason.' Preziosa, reddening with the lovely tint of modesty and of shame, the most beautiful of natural beauties, answered, 'I am in your hands. I surrender my honor to your loyalty. Do with me what you will.' The queen asked who this charming woman was, and what had caused her to live such a wild life. She related to them all her misfortunes, and the queen praised her as a good and honored child, and said to her son that she was well satisfied that he should marry the princess. The prince, who wanted nothing else, at once announced his betrothal to her. Kneeling before the queen, they both received her blessing, and with great feasting the marriage took place. Thus Preziosa demonstrated the truth of the proverb: 'Those who do good may expect good in return.' Richard F. Burton, vol. 1 (London: Henry and Company, 1893), pp. 181-90 (day 2, tale 6). Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman. installments between 1634 and 1636.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,The Story of Catskin (Halliwell),"England, James Orchard Halliwell",NA,"James Orchard Halliwell, The Nursery Rhymes of England (London: F. Warne and Company, 1886), no. 45, pp. 22-31. First published 1853.","Note by D. L. Ashliman: The conflict between father and daughter in most folktales of type 510B derives from the mother's death and the father's subsequent attempts to marry his own daughter, as evidenced in the previous tales at this site. In some versions, however, the incest motif is suppressed, and the conflict between father and daughter is given a different motivation. The following tale, told here in verse, illustrates this minority group. The heroine here is not at risk because of her father's incestuous desires, but for an inclination much less governed by taboo: his displeasure over the birth of a female child. Note also that the abusive relationship between the heroine and the man she will ulitmately marry has also been altered in this version. She receives the same blows, but from the hands of her female employer, not her future husband. And now, an English version of Catskin: His lady's again in the way, So she said to her husband with joy, 'I hope some or other fine day, To present you, my dear, with a boy.' The gentleman answered gruff, 'If't should turn out a maid or a mouse, For of both we have more than enough, She shan't stay to live in my house.' The lady, at this declaration, Almost fainted away with pain; But what was her sad consternation, When a sweet little girl came again. She sent her away to be nurs'd, Without seeing her gruff papa; And when she was old enough, To a school she was packed away. Fifteen summers are fled, Now she left good Mrs. Jervis; To see home she was forbid, She determined to go and seek service. Her dresses so grand and so gay, She carefully rolled in a knob; Which she hid in a forest away, And put on a catskin robe. She knock'd at a castle gate, And pray'd for charity; They sent her some meat on a plate, And kept her a scullion to be. My lady look'd long in her face, And prais'd her great beauty; I'm sorry I've no better place, And you must our scullion be. So Catskin was under the cook, A very sad life she led, For often a ladle she took, And broke poor Catskin's head. There is now a grand ball to be, When ladies their beauties show; 'Mrs. Cook,' said Catskin, 'dear me, How much I should like to go!' 'You go with your catskin robe, You dirty impudent slut! Among the fine ladies and lords, A very fine figure you'd cut.' A basin of water she took, And dash'd in poor Catskin's face; But briskly her ears she shook, And went in her hiding place. She washed every stain from her skin, In some crystal waterfall; Then put on a beautiful dress, And hasted away to the ball. When she entered, the ladies were mute, Overcome by her figure and face; But the lord, her young master, at once Fell in love with her beauty and grace; He pray'd her his partner to be, She said, 'Yes!' with a sweet smiling glance; All night with no other lady But Catskin, our young lord would dance. 'Pray tell me, fair maid, where you live?' For now was the sad parting time; But she no other answer would give, Than this distich of mystical rhyme, -- Kind sir, if the truth I must tell, At the sign of the Basin of Water I dwell. Then she flew from the ballroom, and put On her catskin robe again; And slipt in unseen by the cook, Who little thought where she had been. The young lord, the very next day, To his mother his passion betrayed; He declared he never would rest, Till he'd found out this beautiful maid. There's another grand ball to be, Where ladies their beauties show; 'Mrs. Cook,' said Catskin, 'dear me, How much I should like to go!' 'You go with your catskin robe, You dirty impudent slut! Among the fine ladies and lords, A very fine figure you'd cut.' In a rage the ladle she took, And broke poor Catkin's head; But off she went shaking her ears, And swift to her forest she fled. She washed every blood stain off In some crystal waterfall; Put on a more beautiful dress, And hasted away to the ball. My lord, at the ballroom door, Was waiting with pleasure and pain; He longed to see nothing so much As the beautiful Catskin again. When he asked her to dance, she again Said 'Yes!' with her first smiling glance; And again, all the night, my young Lord With none but fair Catskin did dance. 'Pray tell me,' said he, 'where you live?' For now 'twas the parting time; But she no other answer would give, Than this distich of mystical rhyme, -- Kind sir, if the truth I must tell, At the sign of the Broken Ladle I dwell. Then she flew from the ball, and put on Her catskin robe again; And slipt in unseen by the cook, Who little thought where she had been. My lord did again, the next day, Declare to his mother his mind, That he never more happy should be, Unless he his charmer should find. Now another grand ball is to be, Where ladies their beauties show; 'Mrs. Cook', said Catskin, 'dear me, How much I should like to go!' 'You go with your catskin robe, You impudent, dirty slut! Among the find ladies and lords, A very fine figure you'd cut.' In a fury she took the skimmer, And broke poor Catskin's head; But heart-whole and lively as ever, Away to her forest she fled. She washed the stains of blood In some crystal waterfall; Then put on her most beautiful dress, And hasted away to the ball. My lord, at the ballroom door, Was waiting with pleasure and pain; He longed to see nothing so much As the beautiful Catskin again. When he asked her to dance, she again Said 'Yes!' with her first smiling glance; And all the night long, my young Lord With none but fair Catskin would dance. 'Pray tell me, fair maid, where you live?' For now was the parting time; But she no other answer would give, Than this distich of mystical rhyme, -- Kind sir, if the truth I must tell, At the sign of the Broken Skimmer I dwell. Then she flew from the hall, and threw on Her catskin cloak again; And slipt in unseen by the cook, Who little thought where she had been. But not by my lord unseen, For this time he followed too fast; And, hid in the forest green, Saw the strange things that past. Next day he took to his bed, And sent for the doctor to come; And begg'd him no other than Catskin, Might come into his room. He told him how dearly he lov'd her, Not to have her his heart would break; Then the doctor kindly promised To the proud old lady to speak. There's a struggle of pride and love, For she fear'd her son would die; But pride at the last did yield, And love had the mastery. Then my lord got quickly well, When he was his charmer to wed; And Catskin, before a twelvemonth, Of a young lord was brought to bed. To a wayfaring woman and child, Lady Catskin one day sent an alms; The nurse did the errand, and carried The sweet little lord in her arms. The child gave the alms to the child, This was seen by the old lady mother; 'Only see,' said that wicked old woman, 'How the beggars' brats take to each other!' This throw went to Catskin's heart, She flung herself down on her knees, And pray'd her young master and lord To seek out her parents would please. They sent out in my lord's own coach; They traveled, but naught befell Till they reach'd the town hard by Where Catskin's father did dwell. They put up at the head inn, Where Catskin was left alone; But my lord went to try if her father His natural child would own. When folks are away, in short time What great alterations appear; For the cold touch of death had all chill'd The hearts of her sisters dear. Her father repented too late, And the loss of his youngest bemoan'd; In his old and childless state, He his pride and cruelty own'd. The old gentleman sat by the fire, And hardly looked up at my lord; He had no hope of comfort A stranger could afford. But my lord drew a chair close by, And said, in a feeling tone, 'Have you not, sir, a daughter, I pray, You never would see or own?' The old man alarm'd, cried aloud, 'A hardened sinner am I! I would give all my worldly goods, To see her before I die.' Then my lord brought his wife and child To their home and parent's face, Who fell down and thanks returned To God, for his mercy and grace. The bells, ringing up in the tower, Are sending a sound to the heart; There's a charm in the old church bells, Which nothing in life can impart!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Type 510B tales in the English Language (English),Type 510B tales in the German Language,NA,NA,"Title Collection All-Kinds-of-Fur (Grimm, 1st edition.). Ashliman, Voices from the Past, p. 135. All-Kinds-of-Fur (Grimm, final edition) Grimm, Children's and Household Tales, no. 65. Allerleirauh (Grimm, altered). Lang, Green Fairy Book, p. 276. Ashey Pelt. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 140. Barbarina and the Black Snake. Mathias and Raspa, Italian Folktales in America, no. 1. Bear, The. Lang, Grey Fairy Book, p. 269. Black Yow, The. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 164. Cap o' Rushes. Jacobs, English Fairy Tales, p. 51. Cap o' Rushes. Philip, Penguin Book of English Folktales, p. 122. Cap o' Rushes. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 2, p. 387. Catskin. Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales, p. 204. Catskin: The Princess and the Golden Cow. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 179. Catskins. Chase, Grandfather Tales, no. 11. Cinderella. Examples and commentary. (All examples given in this chapter contain motifs representative of type 510B, although in some instances the incest motif has been supressed. Taggart, Enchanted Maidens, ch. 6. Deerskin. McKinly, Robin. Delgadina. Robb, Hispanic Folk Music of New Mexico and the Southwest, A2a-j, 31-43. Delgadina. Paredes, A Texas-Mexican Cancionero, p. 5, 14-16. Delgadina. Campa, Spanish Folk Poetry in New Mexico, p. 30-33. Donkey Skin (France, Le Cabinet des Fées). Lang, Grey Fairy Book, p. 1. Donkey Skin. Falassi, Folklore by the Fireside, p. 42. Donkey-Skin. Perrault, Fairy Tales (trans. Carter), p. 139. Fair Maria Wood (Italy). Ashliman, Voices from the Past, p. 139. Fair Maria Wood. Crane, Italian Popular Tales, no. 10. Florinda. Pino-Saavedra, Folktales of Chile, no. 21. Flying Princess, The. Dawkins, Modern Greek Folktales, no. 40. Gold Teeth. Folk-Lore: A Quarterly Review, London, 1928, v. 39, pp. 236-238. Golden Box, The. Villa, 100 Armenian Tales, no. 24. Golden Filly Chest, The. Campbell, Cloudwalking Country, p. 196. Grey Castle, The. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 298. Hanchi. Ramanujan, Folktales from India, p. 285. Katie Woodencloak (Norway). Thompson, 100 Folktales, no. 41. King Who Wished to Marry His Daughter. Campbell, West Highlands, v. 1, p. 226. Like Meat Loves Salt. Chase, Grandfather Tales, no. 13. Little Blue Bonnet, The. Gmelch and Kroup, To Shorten the Road, p. 177. Little Cat Skin. Campbell, Cloudwalking Country, p. 82. Little Donkey Mother, The. Taggart, Enchanted Maidens, p. 204. Little Stick Figure, The. Pino-Saavedra, Folktales of Chile, no. 20. Margery White Coats. Campbell, West Highlands, v. 1, p. 232. Mossycoat. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 416. Mossycoat. Briggs and Tongue, Folktales of England, no. 4. Princess in the Donkey Skin, The. Roberts, South from Hell, no. 18. Princess in the Suit of Leather, The. Bushnaq, Arab Folktales, p. 193. Princess That Wore a Rabbit-Skin Dress. Campbell, Cloudwalking Country, p. 161. Princess Whose Father Wanted to Marry Her, The. Ramanujan, Folktales from India, p. 186. Queen with the Golden Hair, The. Campbell, Cloudwalking Country, p. 30. Rashie Coat. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 455. Rashiecoat. Aitken, A Forgotten Heritage, p. 73. Rashin Coatie. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 456. Red Calf, The. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 460. She Donkey's Skin, The. Massignon, Folktales of France, no. 44. She-Bear, The (Basile). Ashliman, Voices from the Past, p. 129. She-Bear, The. Basile, Pentamerone, Day 2, Tale 6. Silver Dress, the Gold Dress, and the Diamond Dress, The. Blecher, Swedish Folktales and Legends, p. 168. Story of Catskin, The (England). Ashliman, Voices from the Past, p. 143. Tattercoats. Briggs, A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, pt. A, v. 1, p. 502. Tattercoats. Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales, p. 67. Tebaldo Wishes to Have His Only Daughter Doralice to Wife. Straparola, Facetious Nights, Night 1, Tale 4. Wooden Maria. Calvino, Italian Folktales, no. 103.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
510B,Type 510B tales in the German Language (German),NA,"D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",NA,"Titel Sammlung Allerlei Rauch. Grimm, Älteste Märchensammlung, Nr. 7. Allerlei Rauh. Grimm, Märchen aus dem Nachlaß, Nr. 18. Allerleirauh. Grimm, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, Nr. 65. Allerleirauh [3 Erzählungen]. Ranke, Schleswig-Holsteinische Volksmärchen, Bd. 2, S. 125. Aschenbrödel - Aschentrödel. Boskovic-Stulli, Kroatische Volksmärchen, Nr. 4. Aschengrübel. Wildhaber, Schweizer Volksmärchen, Nr. 11. Aschenpüster mit der Wünschelgerte. Bechstein, Sämtliche Märchen, Nr. N01. Aschenpuster. Bartsch, Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Bd. 1, S. 479. Curia, schöne Curia. Uffer, Rätoromanische Märchen, Nr. 33. Das Fellmädchen. Spies, Türkische Volksmärchen, Nr. 24. Das Mädchen im Tierfell. Karlinger, Baskische Märchen, Nr. 8. Das Rindenmädchen. Camaj, Albanische Märchen, Nr. 27. Das Wasser-Handtuch-Peitschen-Schloß. Range, Litauische Volksmärchen, Nr. 39. Der Drächengrudel. Wildhaber, Schweizer Volksmärchen, Nr. 12. Der gehende Wagen. Haiding, Österreichs Märchenschatz, Nr. 52. Der goldene Ballon. Bukowska-Grosse, Polnische Volksmärchen, Nr. 16. Der goldene Stier. Soupault, Französische Märchen, Nr. 27. Der Vater und die Tochter. Afanasjew, Russische Volksmärchen, S. 799. Der Vater, der seine Tochter heiraten wollte. Uffer, Rätoromanische Märchen, Nr. 29. Die Bärin. Basile, Das Pentameron, Tag 2, Novelle 6. Die drei Kleider. Meier, Spanische Märchen, Nr. 39. Die hölzerne Maria. Karlinger, Italienische Volksmärchen, Nr. 17. Die kleine goldene Kuh. Meier, Portugiesische Märchen, Nr. 86. Die Zarentochter im unterirdischen Reich. Olesch, Russische Volksmärchen, Nr. 9. Helga und der Zwerg. Schier, Märchen aus Island, Nr. 17. Ruuchklaas. Wisser, Plattdeutsche Märchen, Nr. 40. Schweinehaut. Afanasjew, Russische Volksmärchen, S. 669. Stoppelpelz. Schier, Schwedische Volksmärchen, Nr. 33. Return to",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1558,"Eat, My Clothes!",Italy,"The trickster Giufà, who is described elsewhere as 'stupid, lazy, and cunning' (can one be both stupid and cunning?), is featured in many Italian folktales. His exploits compare to those of Germany's Till Eulenspiegel and Turkey's Nasreddin Hodja, to mention but two of his many counterparts in other nations.","Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 102. p. 296.","As Giufà was half a simpleton no one showed him any kindness, such as to invite him to his house or give him anything to eat. Once Giufà went to a farmhouse for something, and the farmers, when they saw him looking so ragged and poor, came near setting the dogs on him, and made him leave in a hurry. When his mother heard it she procured for him a fine coat, a pair of breeches, and a velvet vest. Giufà dressed up like an overseer, went to the same farmhouse, and then you should see what great ceremonies they made! They invited him to dine with them. While at the table all were very attentive to him. Giufà, on the one hand, filled his stomach, and on the other, put into the pockets, coat, and hat whatever was left over, saying: 'Eat, my clothes, for you were invited!' The trickster Giufà, who is described elsewhere as 'stupid, lazy, and cunning' (can one be both stupid and cunning?), is featured in many Italian folktales. His exploits compare to those of Germany's Till Eulenspiegel and Turkey's Nasreddin Hodja, to mention but two of his many counterparts in other nations.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1558,Heroes They Seemed When Once They Were Clothed,Iceland,Link to the entire text of the above work.,"The Hávámal: The Words of Odin the High One, verse 49.","For a literary treatment (in the German language) of the folklore motif featured above, see the novella Kleider machen Leute by the Swiss novelist and poet Gottfried Keller (1819-90). Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1558,Nasreddin Hodja at a Bridal Festival,Turkey,"There are numerous variants of the name of Turkish jester featured in this story. Borrow uses the full name Cogia Nasr Eddin Effendi, which I have changed to the more usual Nasreddin Hodja. Link to additional tales about Nasreddin Hodja.","George Borrow, The Turkish Jester; or, The Pleasantries of Cogia Nasr Eddin Effendi (Ipswich: W. Webber, 1884), p. 20.","One day Nasreddin Hodja went to a bridal festival. The master of the feast observing his old and wretched garments, paid him no consideration whatever. The Hodja saw that he had no chance of notice; so going out he hurried to his house, and putting on a splendid pelisse, returned to the place of festival. No sooner did he enter the door than the master advanced to meet him, and saying, 'Welcome, Nasreddin Hodja,' with all imaginable honor and reverence placed him at the head of the table, and said, 'Please to eat, Lord Hodja.' Forthwith the Hodja taking hold of one of the furs of his pelisse, said, 'Welcome, my pelisse, please to eat, my lord.' The master, looking at the Hodja with great suprise, said, 'What are you about?' Whereupon the Hodja replied, 'It is quite evident that all the honor paid is paid to my pelisse, so let it have some food too.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1558,The Brahman's Clothes,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas, (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 146, pp. 372-73.","There was once a Brahman who had two wives. Like many Brahmans he lived by begging and was very clever at wheedling money out of people. One day the fancy took him to go to the marketplace dressed only in a small loincloth such as the poorest laborers wear and see how people treated him. So he set out, but on the road and in the marketplace and in the village no one salaamed to him or made way for him, and when he begged no one gave him alms. He soon got tired of this and hastened home and, putting on his best pagri [turban] and coat and dhoti [waistcloth], went back to the marketplace. This time everyone who met him on the road salaamed low to him and made way for him, and every shopkeeper to whom he went gave him alms; and the people in the village who had refused before gladly made offerings to him. The Brahman went home smiling to himself and took off his clothes and put them in a heap and prostrated himself before them three or four times, saying each time, 'O source of wealth! O source of wealth! It is clothes that are honored in this world and nothing else.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,A Ghost Story,Joel Chandler Harris,2000.,"Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1883), no. 29, pp. 161-66.","The next time the little boy visited Uncle Remus he persuaded Tildy to go with him. Daddy Jack was in his usual place, dozing and talking to himself, while Uncle Remus oiled the carriage harness. After a while Aunt Tempy came in. The conversation turned on Daddy Jack's story about 'haunts' and spirits [the previous story in the collection, 'Spirits, Seen and Unseen']. Finally Tildy said, 'When it comes to tales about haunts, I hear tell of one that will just naturally make the kinks on your head uncurl themselves.' 'What tale is that, child?' asked Aunt Tempy. 'Uncle Remus, must I tell it?' 'Let it come,' said Uncle Remus. 'Well then,' said Tildy, rolling her eyes back and displaying her white teeth: One time there was a woman and a man. It seems like they lived close to one another, and the man, he set his eyes on the woman, and the woman, she just went along and tended to her business. The man, he kept his eyes set on her. By and by, the woman, she tended to her business so much that she took sick and died. The man, he up and told her folks she was dead, and the folks came and fixed her. They laid her out, and they lit some candles, and they sat up with her, just like folks do now, and they put two big round shiny silver dollars on her eyes to hold her eyelids down. In describing the silver dollars Tildy joined the ends of her thumbs and forefingers together, and made a figure as large as a saucer. 'They were lots bigger that dollars are these days.' She continued: And they looked mighty pretty. It seems like they were all the money the woman had, and the folks put them on her eyelids to hold them down. Then when the folks did that, they called on the man and told him he would have to dig a grave and bury the woman, and then they all went off about their business. Well, then the man, he took and dug the grave and made ready to bury the woman. He looked at that money on her eyelids, and it shined mighty pretty. Then he took it off and felt it. It felt might good, but just about that time, the man looked at the woman, and he saw her eyelids open. It looked like she was looking at him, and he took and put the money where he got it from. Well, then the man, he took and got a wagon and hauled the woman out to the burying ground, and when he got there he fixed everything, and then he grabbed the money and covered up the grave right quick. Then he went home and put the money in a tin box and rattled it around. It rattled loud and it rattled nice, but the man, he didn't feel so good. It seems like he knew the woman's eyelids were stretched wide open looking for him. Yet he rattled the money around, and it rattled loud and it rattled nice. Well, then the man, he took and put the tin box with the money on the mantel shelf. The day went by, and night came, and when night came, the wind began to rise up and blow. It rose high and it blew strong. It blew on top of the house. It blew under the house. It blew around the house. The man, he felt queer. He sat by the fire and listened. The wind said 'Buzz-zoo-o-o-o-o!' The man listened. The wind hollered and cried. It blew on top of the house. It blew under the house. It blew around the house. It blew into the house. The man got close to the chimney jamb. The wind found the cracks and blew in them. 'Bizzy, bizzy, buzz-zoo-o-o-o-o!' Well, then the man, he listened and listened, but by and by he got tired of this, and he allowed to himself that he was going to bed. He took and flung a freshly lighted knot into the fire, and then he jumped into bed, and curled himself up, and put his head under the covers. The wind hunted for the cracks, 'Bizzy-buzz, bizzy-buzz, buzz-zoo-o-o-o-o!' The man kept his head under the covers. The lighted knot flared up and flickered. The man didn't dare to move. The wind blew and whistled, 'Phew-fee-e-e-e!' The lighted knot flickered and flared. The man, he kept his head covered. Well, then the man lay there, and got scareder and scareder. He scarcely dared to wink his eyes, and it seemed like he was going to have swamp fever. While he was lying there shaking, and the wind was a-blowing, and the fire flickering, he heard some other kind of noise. It was a mighty curious kind of noise, 'Clinkity, clinkalinkle!' The man said, 'Hey! Who is stealing my money?' But he kept his head covered while he lay and listened. He heard the wind blow, and then he heard that other kind of noise, 'Clinkity, clink, clinkity, clinkalinkle!' Well, then he flung off the covers and sat right up in bed. He looked, but he didn't see anything. The fire flickered and flared, and the wind blew. The man went and put a chain and a bar across the door. Then he went back to bed, and he had no more than touched his head on the pillow when he heard this other noise, 'Clink, clink, clinkity, clinkalinkle!' The man got up, but he didn't see anything at all. Mighty queer! Just about the time was going to lie down again, here came the noise, 'Clinkity, clinkalinkle.' It sounded like it was on the mantle shelf. Not only that, it sounded like it was in the tin box on the mantle shelf. Not only that, it sounded like it was the money in the tin box on the mantle shelf. The man said, 'Hey! A rat done got in the box!' The man looked. No rat was there. He shut up the box and set it down on the shelf. As he did that, here came the noise, 'Clinkity, clinkity, clinkalinkle!' The man opened the box and looked at the money. Those two silver dollars were lying there just like he put them. While the man was doing this, it seemed liked he could hear something saying, away off yonder, 'Where's my money? Oh, give me my money! I want my money!' Well, then the man got scared sure enough, and he got a flatiron and put it on the tin box, and then he took and piled all the chairs against the door, and ran and jumped into bed. He just knew there was a boogie coming. By the time he got into bed and covered his head, the money rattled louder, and something cried away off yonder, 'I want my money! Oh, give me my money!' The man, he shook and he shivered. The money, it clinked and rattled. And the boogie, it hollered and cried. The boogie came closer. The money clinked louder. The man shook worse and worse. The money said, 'Clinkity, clinkalinkle!' The boogie cried, 'Oh, give me my money!' The man hollered, 'Oh, Lordy, Lordy!' Well, then it kept on this way until the man heard the door open. He peeped from under the covers, and in walked the woman that he had buried in the burying ground. The man shivered and shivered. The wind blew and blew. The money rattled and rattled. The woman cried and cried. 'Buzz-zoo-o-o-o-o!' said the wind. 'Clinkalink!' said the box. 'Oh, give me my money!' said the woman. 'Oh, Lordy!' said the man. The woman heard the money, but it looked like she couldn't see it, and she groped around, and groped around, and groped around with her hands in the air like this. Here Tildy stood up, pushed her chair back with her foot, raised her arms over her head, and leaned forward in the direction of Daddy Jack. The wind was blowing. The fire was flickering. The money was rattling. The man was shaking and shivering. The woman was groping around and saying, 'Give me my money! Oh, who's got my money?' Tildy advanced a few steps. The money looked like it was going to tear the tin box all to flinders. The woman groped and cried, until by and by she jumped on the man and hollered, 'You've got my money!' As she reached this climax, Tildy sprang at Daddy Jack and seized him, and for a few moments there was considerable confusion in the corner. The little boy was frightened, but the collapsed appearance of Daddy Jack convulsed him with laughter. The old African was very angry. His little eyes glistened with momentary malice, and he shook his cane threateningly at Tildy. The latter coolly adjusted her earrings, as she exclaimed, 'There now! I knew I'd get even with the old villain. Come a-calling me pigeon-toed!' 'Better keep your eye on him, child,' said Aunt Tempy. 'He'll bewitch you for sure.' 'Bewitch who? If he comes bewitching around me, I'll break his back, I'm telling you that right point-blank.' (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1883), no.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,Ahlemann,Germany,"Kuhn's and Schwartz's source: 'From the vicinity of Cottbus, through Professor Jungk.'","A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, 'Ahlemann,' Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), pp. 357-58.","There was once a man named Ahlemann, and he had a wife and four children. One day he wanted to eat some liver, so he said, 'Have it ready when I arrive home from work.' His wife went to town and bought a nice large liver. After it was fried, and the husband still hadn't come home, it smelled so good that wanted some ever so much. Finally she sat down and tasted it herself. First she ate just a very little piece, thinking, 'He will never notice it.' But then she cut off another little piece, and soon the entire liver was gone. Then she became terribly frightened that her husband would scold her, so she ran to the gallows where someone was hanging whom they had hanged a short time ago. She cut out his liver and fried it. When Ahlemann came home he sat down, and it tasted marvelous. Afterward he went for beer with his children. Evening came, and it was already dark. The woman was lying in her bed when she heard something approaching her room. A voice called out, 'Where is Ah-lemann? Where is Ah-lemann?' She said, 'Ahlemann has gone for beer with all four!' But she heard it coming closer and closer, and she called out in fear, 'Come Ah-lemann; come Ah-lemann. I am terribly afraid.' But it was to no avail. Suddenly it was standing before her bed, and it broke her neck. Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), pp. 357-58. Professor Jungk.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,Give Me My Teeth,England,Hunt entitles this tale 'Cornish Teeny-Tiny.',"Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall, second series (London: John Camden Hotten, 1865), pp. 268-69.","Mr. Halliwell gives us, in his Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales, the story of Teeny-Tiny. In this a little old woman takes a bone from the churchyard to make soup. She goes to bed, and puts the bone in the cupboard. During the night someone comes demanding the bone, and at length the terrified old woman gives it up. A similar story is told in Cornwall. An old lady had been to the church in the sands of Perranzabuloe. She found, amidst the numerous remains of mortality, some very good teeth. She pocketed these, and at night placed them on her dressing table before getting into bed. She slept, but was at length disturbed by someone calling out, 'Give me my teeth. Give me my teeth.' At first, the lady took no notice of this, but the cry, 'Give me my teeth,' was so constantly repeated, that she, at last, in terror, jumped out of bed, took the teeth from the dressing table, and, opening the window, flung them out, exclaiming, 'Drat the teeth, take 'em!' They no sooner fell into the darkness on the road than hasty retreating footsteps were heard, and there were no more demands for the teeth.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,How to Tell a Story: The Golden Arm,Mark Twain The Golden Arm,NA,"Mark Twain, How to Tell a Story and Other Essays (New York and London: Harper and Brothers, 1898), pp. 9-12.","On the platform I used to tell a negro ghost story that had a pause in front of the snapper on the end, and that pause was the most im portant thing in the whole story. If I got it the right length precisely, I could spring the finishing ejaculation with effect enough to make some impressible girl deliver a startled little yelp and jump out of her seat -- and that was what I was after. This story was called ' The Golden Arm,' and was told in this fash ion. You can practise with it yourself -- and mind you look out for the pause and get it right. When it come midnight he couldn't stan' it no mo'; so he git up, he did, en tuck his lantern en shoved out thoo de storm en dug her up en got de golden arm; en he bent his head down 'gin de win', en plowed en plowed en plowed thoo de snow. Den all on a sudden he stop (make a considerable pause here, and look startled, and take a listening attitude) en say: 'My lan', what's dat!' En he listen -- en listen -- en de win' say (set your teeth together and imitate the wailing and wheezing singsong of the wind), 'Bzzz-z-zzz' -- en den, way back yonder whah de grave is, he hear a voice! -- he hear a voice all mix' up in de win' -- can't hardly tell 'em 'part -- 'Bzzz-zzz -- W-h-o -- g-o-t -- m-y -- g-o-l-d-e-n arm? -- zzz -- zzz -- W-h-o g-o-t m-y g-o-l-d-e-n arm? (You must begin to shiver violently now.) En he begin to shiver en shake, en say, 'Oh, my! Oh, my lan'!' en de win' blow de lantern out, en de snow en sleet blow in his face en mos' choke him, en he start a-plowin' knee-deep towards home mos' dead, he so sk'yerd -- en pooty soon he hear de voice agin, en (pause) it 'us comin' after him! 'Bzzz -- zzz -- zzz -- W-h-o -- g-o-t -- m-y -- g-o-l-d-e-n -- arm?' When he git to de pasture he hear it agin -- closter now, en a-comin! -- a-comin' back dah in de dark en de storm -- (repeat the wind and the voice). When he git to de house he rush up-stairs en jump in de bed en kiver up, head and years, en lay dah shiverin' en shakin' -- en den way out dah he hear it agin! -- en a- comin! En bimeby he hear (pause -- awed, listening attitude) -- pat -- pat -- pat -- hit's a- comin' up-stairs! Den he hear de latch, en he know it's in de room! Den pooty soon he know it's a-stannin' by de bed! (Pause.) Den -- he know it's a-bendin down over him -- en he cain't skasely git his breath! Den -- den -- he seem to feel someth'n c-o-l-d, right down 'most agin his head ! (Pause.) Den de voice say, right at his year -- ' W-h-o -- g-o-t -- m-y -- g-o-l-d-e-n arm?' '(You must wail it out very plaintively and accusingly; then you stare steadily and impressively into the face of the farthest-gone auditor -- a girl, preferably -- and let that awe-inspiring pause begin to build itself in the deep hush. When it has reached exactly the right length, jump suddenly at that girl and yell, 'You've got it!' If you've got the pause right, she'll fetch a dear little yelp and spring right out of her shoes. But you must get the pause right; and you will find it the most troublesome and aggravating and uncertain thing you ever undertook.)",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,Saddaedda,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company; London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 73, p. 238.","Once upon a time there was a girl called Saddaedda, who was crazy. One day, when her mother had gone into the country and she was left alone in the house, she went into a church where the funeral service was being read over the body of a rich lady. The girl hid herself in the confessional. No one knew she was there. So, when the other people had gone, she was left alone with the corpse. It was dressed out in a rose-colored robe and everything else becoming, and it had earrings in its ears and rings on its fingers. These the girl took off, and then she began to undress the body. When she came to the stockings she drew off one easily, but at the other she had to pull so hard that at last the leg came off with it. Saddaedda took the leg, carried it to her lonely home, and locked it up in a box. At night came the dead lady and knocked at the door. 'Who's there?' said the girl. 'It is I,' answered the corpse. 'Give me back my leg and stocking!' But Saddaedda paid no heed to the request. Next day she prepared a feast and invited some of her playfellows to spend the night with her. They came, feasted, and went to sleep. At midnight the dead woman began to knock at the door and to repeat last night's request. Saddaedda took no notice of the noise, but her companions, whom it awoke, were horrified, and as soon as they could, they ran away. On the third night just the same happened. On the fourth she could persuade only one girl to keep her company. On the fifth she was left entirely alone. The corpse came, forced open the door, strode up to Saddaedda's bed, and strangled her. Then the dead woman opened the box, took out her leg and stocking, and carried them off with her to her grave.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,Teeny-Tiny,England,"Jacobs' source: James Orchard Halliwell, Nursery Rhymes and Nursery Tales (London, 1843), p. 148. Another edition is Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to the Nursery Rhymes of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1849), pp. 25-26.","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), no. 12, pp. 57-58.","Once upon a time there was a teeny-tiny woman lived in a teeny-tiny house in a teeny-tiny village. Now, one day this teeny-tiny woman put on her teeny-tiny bonnet, and went out of her teeny-tiny house to take a teeny-tiny walk. And when this teeny-tiny woman had gone a teeny-tiny way she came to a teeny-tiny gate. So the teeny-tiny woman opened the teeny-tiny gate, and went into a teeny-tiny churchyard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had got into the teeny-tiny churchyard, she saw a teeny-tiny bone on a teeny-tiny grave, and the teeny-tiny woman said to her teeny-tiny self, 'This teeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-tiny soup for my teeny-tiny supper.' So the teeny-tiny woman put the teeny-tiny bone into her teeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her teeny-tiny house. Now when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house she was a teeny-tiny bit tired. So she went up her teeny-tiny stairs to her teeny-tiny bed, and put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny cupboard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep a teeny-tiny time, she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard, which said, 'Give me my bone!' And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head under the teeny-tiny clothes and went to sleep again. And when she had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice again cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny louder, 'Give me my bone!' This made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, so he hid her teeny-tiny head a teeny-tiny further under the teeny-tiny clothes. And when the teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard said again a teeny-tiny louder, 'Give me my bone!' And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened, but she put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in her loudest teeny-tiny voice, 'TAKE IT!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Audacious Girl,Germany,"Gander lists his source for the first legend as 'oral' and for the second as 'oral, from Gubinchen.'","Karl Gander, 'Das dreiste Mädchen,' Niederlausitzer Volkssagen, vornehmlich aus dem Stadt- und Landkreise Guben (Berlin: Deutsche Schriftsteller-Genossenschaft, 1894), no. 198, pp. 77-78.","In Pinno some people lived directly next to the churchyard, and when their daughter went to the spinning room in the evening she always had to walk through the churchyard. The young fellows teased her about this and told her that something would happen to her if she continued to walk by herself through the churchyard. One evening when she was once again walking through the churchyard on her way to the spinning room, she saw a figure sitting on a grave. She thought it was one of the young fellows trying to frighten her, so she went up to the figure and ripped something off its body. She ran with it to the spinning room and said, 'You tried to play a trick on me, but you failed! I took this away from the fellow who was trying to trick me!' The other spinning girls said to her, 'That is a burial shroud that you have in your hands.' She was frightened as she made her way home. The young fellows and girls went with her, and nothing happened to her. In the night something knocked on her window, and a voice called out, 'Give me my things. I'm freezing.!' She was afraid to give the things back, and there came another knock. Then she opened the window a little and reached the things out with a stick. But outside no one took them. Every night the knocking and the calling came again. Then the girl went with her mother to the pastor and told him about it. The pastor said that he and the teacher would go with her to take the things back to the same place where she had taken them. When all three were standing at the grave they heard the girl cry, 'My Jesus! My Jesus!' Suddenly the girl disappeared from their midst. They found only a few tattered pieces of her clothing lying there next to them. The Evil One had torn the girl apart and taken her with him. In a village there was once a very audacious girl who wanted to have something from the churchyard, for such things were considered to be of value. The girl went to the churchyard at twelve o'clock in the night. There she saw a white figure sitting on a grave. It had a white cloth wrapped around its head. The girl unwrapped the cloth and took it with her. The next night the white figure came to the girl's bed and wanted the have the cloth back. This happened every night. Then the frightened girl ran to the pastor and told him about it. He said that she would have to take the cloth back to the place she had taken it from. The following night the girl went to the churchyard. The white figure was sitting on the grave again, and she wrapped the cloth around its head. When the girl had done this she received a slap that knocked to the ground, and she was dead.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Burial Dress,Germany,"Bartsch's source: F. Haase, a teacher from Rostock.","Karl Bartsch, 'Das Todtenhemd,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg] (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), vol. 1, no. 294, pp. 227-28.","As was previously the custom, a woman made her own burial dress while she was still living. After she died, her daughter-in-law thought that a lesser dress would do just as well. Therefore she kept the burial dress for herself and dressed the dead woman in an old worn-out one. However, the old woman had scarcely been buried when in the evening a voice was heard in the parlor saying, 'I want to have my dress.' This happened every evening, and did not stop until the right dress was laid on the grave. und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg] (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), vol.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Golden Arm,England,"Baring-Gould's note on the telling of this story: 'The dialog progresses in horror, till at the close, the ghost's exclamation is shrieked out at the top of the narrator's voice, the candle extinguished, and the young auditors duly panic stricken. No one desires to know what became of the avaricious husband.' Language cautiously modernized by D. L. Ashliman.","S. Baring-Gould, Appendix to William Henderson, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866), no. 14, pp. 338-39.","There was once a man who traveled the land all over in search of a wife. He saw young and old, rich and poor, pretty and plain, and could not meet with one to his mind. At last he found a woman young, fair, and rich, who possessed the supreme, the crowning glory of having a right arm of solid gold. He married her at once, and thought no man so fortunate as he was. They lived happily together, but, though he wished people to think otherwise, he was fonder of the golden arm than of all his wife's gifts besides. At last she died. The husband appeared inconsolable. He put on the blackest black, and pulled the longest face at the funeral. But for all that he got up in the middle of the night, dug up the body, and cut off the golden arm. He hurried home to secrete his recovered treasure, and thought no one would know. The following night he put the golden arm under his pillow, and was just falling asleep, when the ghost of his dead wife glided into the room. Stalking up to the bedside it drew the curtain, and looked at him reproachfully. Pretending not to be afraid, he spoke to the ghost, and said, 'What have you done with your cheeks so red.' 'All withered and wasted away,' replied the ghost, in a hollow tone. 'What have you done with your red rosy lips?' 'All withered and wasted away.' 'What have you done with your golden hair?' 'All withered and wasted away.' 'What have you done with your golden arm?' 'You have it!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Golden Cup,England,This tale is from Eckington in Derbyshire.,"Sidney Oldall Addy, Household Tales with Other Traditional Remains, Collected in the Counties of York, Lincoln, Derby, and Nottingham (London: David Nutt, 1895), no. 43, pp. 42-43.","There was once a lady who had one little daughter, and this daughter had a beautiful golden cup. Now one day the lady was going out to visit her friends, and her little daughter asked if she might go too. Her mother said, 'No, dear, I cannot take you now, but you can have your golden cup to play with until I come back.' When the mother had gone the little girl said to the maid, 'Fetch me my golden cup out of the cupboard.' The maid said, 'I can't fetch it now, I am too busy.' But the little girl, kept asking for the cup again and again, until at last the maid grew angry, and said, 'If you ask for it again I'll cut your head off.' But the little girl asked for the cup once more, and thereupon the maid took her into the cellar, got the hatchet, and cut her head off. Then she got a pickaxe and a spade, and dug a hole, and buried the little girl under one of the stone flags in the cellar. When the mother came back in the evening she said, 'Where's baby?' The maid said, 'I have let her go out for a walk.' 'Then go and seek her,' said the mother. The maid went out, and when she came back she said, 'I have looked for her everywhere and cannot find her.' Then the mother was deeply grieved, and she sat up all that night, and all the next night. On the third night as she sat alone and wide awake she heard the voice of her daughter outside the door saying, 'Can I have my golden cup?' The mother opened the door, and when her daughter had repeated the question three times she saw her spirit, but the spirit vanished at once, and she never saw it more. Tales with Other Traditional Remains, Collected in the Counties of York, Lincoln, Derby, and Nottingham (London: David Nutt, 1895), no. 43, pp. 42-43.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Little Golden Leg,Germany,"The Colshorns' source: 'Oral, in Celle.'","Carl and Theodor Colshorn, 'Vom gollenen Beineken,' Märchen und Sagen (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Rümpler, 1854), no. 6, pp. 31-32.","A distinguished lady once had a little girl. It cannot even be said how very, very much she loved her. Now the little girl went to school, and she walked on some ice, slipped and fell, and broke off one of her little legs. They picked her up and carried her back to her mother and told her that she had fallen on some ice and broken off one of her little legs. The mother cried many tears and then had the surgeon come and said to him, 'If only you could bring the little girl so far that she could walk on her legs again.' The surgeon looked at the little leg from this side and that side and then said, 'The girl must have a little golden leg.' So the mother had a little golden leg made and placed on the girl, but it did not help. A little while later the door opened and Death entered. 'Oh!' said the lady. 'Are you going to take my dear, dear child away from me?' 'Yes,' said Death, 'her time and her hour have come. She must go with me.' 'Oh!' said the mother to her child. 'Are you going to leave me?' 'Mother, dear,' said the child, 'I must! I would like to stay here, but Death will not allow it.' Then Death took the little girl by the hand and went out the door with her. When the child was buried the gravedigger broke open the casket and took the little golden leg off the little girl and went home with it. At the hour of midnight, the child came to the gravedigger's bed and said, 'Give my little leg! Give me my little leg!' But the gravedigger pretended that he did not hear her. So the child came the first night, and she came the second night, and she also came the third night, and said, 'Give me my little leg! Give me my little leg!' The third night the gravedigger said, 'I do not have your little leg.' But the child did not allow herself to be made a fool of, and she said two times and three times, 'Give me my little leg! Give me my little leg! There -- you -- have -- my -- little leg!' From that hour on, the girl rested peacefully in her grave.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Man from the Gallows,Germany,"The Grimms call this short piece a 'fragment.' It is contained in volume three of their famous collection, a volume comprising scholarly comments on their tales.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Mann vom Galgen,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 3 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterich'schen Buchhandlung, 1856), p. 276).",At midnight someone knocked on the door of her hut. She woke up. There stood the dead man. His head was naked; he had no eyes; and there was a wound in his body. 'The wind blew it off.' 'Where are your eyes?' 'The ravens picked them out.' 'Where is your liver?' 'You ate it.',Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Old Man at the White House,England,"Addy's source: 'From Wakefield. Told to me by C. R. Hirst, of Sheffield, aged 18. Note by Addy: 'It is hoped that this tale will not be reprinted in any book intended for children.'","S. O. Addy, 'Four Yorkshire Folktales,' Folklore, vol. 8, no. 4 (December 1897), pp. 393-94.","In the same village there lived a woman who had a daughter called Sally, and one day she gave Sally a pair of yellow kid gloves and threatened to kill her if she lost them. Now Sally was very proud of her gloves, but she was careless enough to lose one of them. After she had lost it she went to a row of houses in the village and inquired at every door if they had seen her glove. But everybody said 'No;' and she was told to go and ask the old man that lived in the white house. So Sally went to the white house and asked the old man if he had seen her glove. The old man said, 'I have thy glove, and I will give it thee if thou wilt promise me to tell nobody where thou hast found it. And remember if thou tells anybody I shall fetch thee out of bed when the clock strikes twelve at night.' So he gave the glove back to Sally. But Sally's mother got to know about her losing the glove, and said, 'Where did thou find it?' Sally said, 'I daren't tell, for if I do an old man will fetch me out of bed at twelve o'clock at night.' Her mother said, 'I will bar all the doors and fasten all the windows, and then he can't get in and fetch thee;' and then she made Sally tell her where she had found her glove. So Sally's mother barred all the doors and fastened all the windows, and Sally went to bed at ten o'clock that night and began to cry. At eleven she began to cry louder, and at twelve o'clock she heard a voice saying in a whisper, but gradually getting louder and louder: 'Sally, I'm up two steps.' 'Sally, I'm up three steps.' 'Sally, I'm up four steps.' 'Sally, I'm up five steps.' 'Sally, I'm up six steps.' 'Sally, I'm up seven steps.' 'Sally, I'm up eight steps.' 'Sally, I'm up nine steps.' 'Sally, I'm up ten steps.' 'Sally, I'm up eleven steps.' 'Sally, I'm up twelve steps!' 'Sally, I'm at thy bedroom door!!' 'Sally, I have hold of thee!!!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Shroud,Russia,Ralston's source: Aleksandr Afanasyev. Ralston's footnote concerning 'her back hair': 'The kosa or single braid in which Russian girls wear their hair.',"W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-Tales (London: Smith, Elder, and Company, 1873), pp. 307-309.","In a certain village there was a girl who was lazy and slothful, hated working, but would gossip and chatter away like anything! Well, she took it into her head to invite the other girls to a spinning party. For in the villages, as every one knows, it is the lazybones who gives the spinning feast, and the sweet-toothed are those who go to it. Well, on the appointed night she got her spinners together. They span for her, and she fed them and feasted them. Among other things they chatted about was this -- which of them all was the boldest? Says the lazybones, 'I'm not afraid of anything!' 'Well then,' say the spinners, 'if you're not afraid, go past the graveyard to the church, take down the holy picture from the door, and bring it here.' 'Good, I'll bring it; only each of you must spin me a distaff-full.' That was just her sort of notion: to do nothing herself, but to get others to do it for her. Well, she went, took down the picture, and brought it home with her. Her friends all saw that sure enough it was the picture from the church. But the picture had to be taken back again, and it was now the midnight hour. Who was to take it? At length the lazybones said, 'You girls go on spinning. I'll take it back myself. I'm not afraid of anything!' So she went and put the picture back in its place. As she was passing the graveyard on her return, she saw a corpse in a white shroud, seated on a tomb. It was a moonlight night; everything was visible. She went up to the corpse, and drew away its shroud from it. The corpse held its peace, not uttering a word; no doubt the time for it to speak had not come yet. Well, she took the shroud and went home. 'There!' says she, 'I've taken back the picture and put it in its place; and, what's more, here's a shroud I took away from a corpse.' Some of the girls were horrified; others didn't believe what she said, and laughed at her. But after they had supped and lain down to sleep, all of a sudden the corpse tapped at the window and said, 'Give me my shroud! Give me my shroud!' The girls were so frightened they didn't know whether they were alive or dead. But the lazybones took the shroud, went to the window, opened it, and said, 'There, take it.' 'No,' replied the corpse, 'restore it to the place you took it from.' Just then the cocks suddenly began to crow. The corpse disappeared. Next night, when the spinners had all gone home to their own houses, at the very same hour as before, the corpse came, tapped at the window, and cried, 'Give me my shroud!' Well, the girl's father and mother opened the window and offered him his shroud. 'No,' says he, 'let her take it back to the place she took it from.' 'Really now, how could one go to a graveyard with a corpse? What a horrible idea!' she replied. Just then the cocks crew. The corpse disappeared. Next day the girl's father and mother sent for the priest, told him the whole story, and entreated him to help them in their trouble. 'Couldn't a service be performed?' they said. The priest reflected awhile; then he replied, 'Please tell her to come to church tomorrow.' Next day the lazybones went to church. The service began, numbers of people came to it. But just as they were going to sing the cherubim song, there suddenly arose, goodness knows whence, so terrible a whirlwind that all the congregation fell flat on their faces. And it caught up that girl, and then flung her down on the ground. The girl disappeared from sight; nothing was left of her but her back hair.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,The Stolen Liver,Poland,NA,"Otto Knoop, 'Die kleine Geschichte,' Ostmärkische Sagen, Märchen und Erzählungen (Lissa in Posen: Oskar Eulitz' Verlag, 1909), no. 85, p. 181-182.","In the village of Hammer near Czernikowo many years ago there lived a young married couple. The wife loved to eat liver and could not live if she didn't eat a liver every day. One day she sent her husband once again to town to fetch a liver. However, in Czernikowo the husband met a group of young merrymakers and went with them to a tavern, where he drank away all his money. Sad, and without the liver, he made his way homeward. It was late. On his way he had to go through a great forest. Here he met a hunter, who asked him why he was so sad. The man told him everything, upon which the hunter said, 'In the middle of the forest there is a clearing with a gallows, upon which a number of dead bodies are hanging. Take one of them down, cut out his liver, and give it to your wife. Tell her it is beef liver.' The man did just that. When he arrived home his wife was at first angry because he had been away so long, but she calmed down as soon as she saw the liver, and began frying it. The man lay down and went to sleep. Suddenly a white figure appeared at the window, and it cried into the room, 'Everyone is asleep. The dogs are keeping watch in the yard. And you are standing there frying my liver.' The man was terrified, and in his fear he cried out to his wife that she should come to bed. But the wife wanted first to dip a little piece of bread into the gravy and taste it. Meanwhile, the phantom, a white skeleton, had already entered the house, always calling out the same words again and again. The woman was not afraid, but asked the ghost, 'Now, my little fellow, what happened to your flesh?' The ghost replied, 'The ravens ate it, and the wind blew it away.' Then the woman asked, 'Now, my little fellow, what happened to your eyes and ears?' And the ghost answered, 'The ravens ate them, and the wind blew them away.' The woman asked, 'Now, my little fellow, what happened to your liver?' Then the ghost cried out, 'You have it!' And with that he seized the woman and strangled her to death. Sagen, Märchen und Erzählungen (Lissa in Posen: Oskar Eulitz' Verlag, 1909), no. 85, p. 181-182.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
366,White Cap,Iceland,NA,"Jón Arnason, Icelandic Legends, translated by George E. J. Powell and Eiríkur Magnússon (London: Richard Bentley, 1864), pp. 157-58.","A certain boy and girl, whose names this tale telleth not, once lived near a church. The boy being mischievously inclined, was in the habit of trying to frighten the girl in a variety of ways, till she became at last so accustomed to his tricks, that she ceased to care for anything whatever, putting down everything strange that she saw and heard to the boy's mischief. One washing-day, the girl was sent by her mother to fetch home the linen, which had been spread to dry in the churchyard. When she had nearly filled her basket, she happened to look up, and saw sitting on a tomb near her a figure dressed in white from head to foot, but was not the least alarmed, believing it to be the boy playing her, as usual, a trick. So she ran up to it, and pulling its cap off said, 'You shall not frighten me, this time.' Then when she had finished collecting the linen she went home. But, to her astonishment -- for he could not have reached home before her without her seeing him -- the boy was the first person who greeted her on her arrival at the cottage. Among the linen, too, when it was sorted, was found a moldy white cap, which appeared to be nobody's property, and which was half full of earth. The next morning the ghost (for it was a ghost that the girl had seen) was found sitting with no cap upon its head, upon the same tombstone as the evening before. And as nobody had the courage to address it, or knew in the least how to get rid of it, they sent into the neighboring village for advice. An old man declared that the only way to avoid some general calamity, was for the little girl to replace on the ghost's head the cap she had seized from it, in the presence of many people, all of whom were to be perfectly silent. So a crowd collected in the churchyard, and the little girl, going forward, half afraid, with the cap, placed it upon the ghost's head, saying, 'Are you satisfied now?' But the ghost, raising its hand, gave her a fearful blow, and said, 'Yes, but are you now satisfied?' The little girl fell down dead, and at the same instant the ghost sank into the grave upon which it had been sitting, and was no more seen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Booby and the Crab,"India, The Hitopadesa",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Fables and Proverbs from the Sanskrit; Being the Hitopadesa, translated by Charles Wilkins (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1885), fable 7, pp. 237-39. Source (Internet Archive): Fables and Proverbs from the Sanskrit; Being the Hitopadesa, translated by Charles Wilkins (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1885), fable 7, pp. 237-39.","A certain booby after having devoured fish of every size and quality, at length is killed from his attempting a crab out of mere gluttony. 'How was that?' demanded Chitra-Varna; and his minister related the following story: In the country of Malava there is a lake distinguished by the name of Padma-Garbha, where lived an old booby, who, being deprived of his former abilities, stood and feigned to appear like one who was troubled in mind; in which situation being observed by a crab at a distance, the latter asked him why he stood there, and did not look for food. 'You know,' replied the booby, 'that fish is what I live upon; and I know for certain that fishermen are coming to catch them all; for, as I was looking about the skirts of the next village, I overheard the conversation of some water-men upon that subject; so this being the case, I have lost my appetite with reflecting that, when our food is gone, death will soon follow.' This being overheard by all the fish, they observed to one another that it was proper to look out for assistance whilst they had time; and, said they, 'Let us ask the booby himself what is best to be done; for: One may better form a connection with an enemy who will render one assistance, than with a friend who would do one an injury. These two should rather be distinguished according to the good or injury they do to one.' Accordingly, the fish accosted the booby, and said, 'Pray, master booby, tell us what means can be devised for our safety upon this occasion?' 'There is one way to be safe,' replied the artful booby, and that is, going to another pond, whither I am willing to transport you.' The fish, in the greatness of their fears, consented to this proposal, and their treacherous deliverer devoured them all one by one as he took them out of the water. At length, the crab asked him to take him also; and the booby, although he had never before had any inclination to taste one of his species, took him up with great marks of respect, and carried him ashore. When the crab seeing the ground covered with the bones of the fish which the booby had destroyed, cried to herself, 'Alas, how unfortunate! I shall certainly be killed too, unless I can contrive some means of escaping. Let me try immediately what the occasion requires. They say: In times of danger it is proper to be alarmed until danger be near at hand; but when we perceive that danger is near, one should oppose it as if one were not afraid. When one attacked beholdeth no safety for himself, if he be a wise man, he will die fighting with his foe. It is also said, that: As out of battle death is certain, etc. The crab having come to this resolution, he seized the opportunity, when the booby stretched out his neck to devour him, to tear open his throat with the pincers of his claws. Wherefore I repeat: 'A certain booby after having devoured fish of every size and quality, at length is killed from his attempting a crab out of mere gluttony.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Crane and the Fish,India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): G. R. Subramiah Pantulu, 'Some Notes on the Folklore of the Telugus,' The Indian Antiquary: A Journal of Oriental Researchvol. 26 (Bombay, 1897), no. 35, p. 168. Source (Internet Archive): G. R. Subramiah Pantulu, 'Some Notes on the Folklore of the Telugus,' The Indian Antiquary: A Journal of Oriental Research, vol. 26 (Bombay, 1897), no. 35, p. 168.","Lake Vimalavati has been occupied from time immemorial by large numbers of fish. Once upon a time, a crane, which happened to pass by, conceived the idea of preying on them, and stood on the brink of the lake. But it saw the fish going away from it shaking with fear, and so it said: 'I very much regret your going away from me in the belief that birds of my order make you their prey, and that I would do the same. But I have not come here with such an object in view. I, following others of my kind, have killed a good many fish, and become a sinner, but I am now grown very old, and have renounced the world. I am come here to perform penance. Fear not any harm from me. You may roam anywhere you please.' The poor fish believed the wily words of the crane, especially as the crane did not interfere with them at all, though they approached it. After some time had thus elapsed, the crane appeared to be very much dejected and melan choly. The fish approached it, and asked it what the matter was. To which the crane replied: 'What shall I say? A twelve years' famine will very shortly visit the land. Not a drop of water will then remain in this lake. I am able to know this by second sight, and, as you are my close friends, I cannot resist the temptation of informing you, lest you die when the famine comes.' The fish were exceedingly joyed at the humane nature of the crane, and requested it to save them from the impending peril. The crane thereupon informed them, that there was a lake a few yards further off, which would never dry, and that it would be a very happy refuge for the fish. The latter requested the former to take them up and leave them there. The crane thereupon took them up one by one and left them in the sun on a mountain-top, and slowly devoured them. Moral: We should never, therefore, believe the words of our natural enemies. A crane that had long coveted the fish in a pond, one day stood on the bank in a melancholy mood. 'Sir Crane,' said the fish in a shoal, 'why are you sad today?' 'My dear fish,' said Sir Crane, 'I am so sorry that the fisherman is to come tomorrow with his net and take you all away.' 'Oh, what shall we do?' cried the fish. 'Why,' said the crane, if you would only listen to my advice, you will all be saved.' 'Do help us, by all means, Sir Crane; we will be so thankful to you,' said the fish. 'Well, it may be a source of some trouble to me, but that is immaterial; when one can do a kind turn, he ought to do it. I shall take up as many of you as I can at a time, and carry you to a pond at some distance in a forest, where no fisherman can molest you.' So saying, he carried each time a number of fish, and dropped them on a great piece of stone. There he made a hearty meal on as many as he could eat at a time, and left the remainder to dry in the sun. It came to the turn of the crab to be carried. While the crane was flying in the air, the crab saw fish all the way, dried and drying. He cut asunder the neck of the crane with his sharp feet, and, falling into a pond, saved himself and the remaining fish in the pond he had left. The wicked and the oppressor will find their doom in the end.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Crane and the Makara,"India, The Kathá Sarit Ságara",The Kathá Sarit Ságara (also spelled Kathasaritsagara) is an eleventh-century collection of Indian tales compiled by a Brahman named Somadeva Bhatta. The makara is a sea creature in Hindu mythology. Link to the Wikipedia article Makara (Hindu mythology).,"Source (books.google.com): The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story, translated from the original Sanskrit by C. H. Tawney, vol. 2 (Calcutta: Printed by J. W. Thomas at the Baptist Mission Press, 1884), book 10, ch. 60, pp. 31-32. Source (Internet Archive): The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story, translated from the original Sanskrit by C. H. Tawney, vol. 2 (Calcutta: Printed by J. W. Thomas at the Baptist Mission Press, 1884), book 10, ch. 60, pp. 31-32.","Of old time there dwelt a crane in a certain tank rich in fish; and the fish in terror used to flee out of his sight. Then the crane, not being able to catch the fish, told them a lying tale: 'There has come here a man with a net who kills fish. He will soon catch you with a net and kill you. So act on my advice, if you repose any confidence in me. There is in a lonely place a translucent lake, it is unknown to the fishermen of these parts; I will take you there one by one, and drop you into it, that you may live there.' When those foolish fish heard that, they said in their fear: 'Do so, we all repose confidence in you.' Then the treacherous crane took the fish away one by one, and, putting them down on a rock, devoured in this way many of them. Then a certain makara dwelling in that lake, seeing him carrying off fish, said: 'Whither are you taking the fish?' Then that crane said to him exactly what he had said to the fish. The makara, being terrified, said: 'Take me there too.' The crane's intellect was blinded with the smell of his flesh, so he took him up, and soaring aloft carried him towards the slab of rock. But when the makara got near the rock, he saw the fragments of the bones of the fish that the crane had eaten, and he perceived that the crane was in the habit of devouring those who reposed confidence in him. So no sooner was the sagacious makara put down on the rock, than with complete presence of mind he cut off the head of the crane. And he returned and told the occurrence, exactly as it happened, to the other fish, and they were delighted, and hailed him as their deliverer from death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,"The Crane, the Crab, and the Fish",India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): P. V. Ramaswami Raju, Indian Fables (London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, and Company, 1887), pp. 88-89. Source (Internet Archive): P. V. Ramaswami Raju, Indian Fables (London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, and Company, 1887), pp. 88-89.","'Sir Crane,' said the fish in a shoal, 'why are you sad today?' 'My dear fish,' said Sir Crane, 'I am so sorry that the fisherman is to come tomorrow with his net and take you all away.' 'Oh, what shall we do?' cried the fish. 'Why,' said the crane, if you would only listen to my advice, you will all be saved.' 'Do help us, by all means, Sir Crane; we will be so thankful to you,' said the fish. 'Well, it may be a source of some trouble to me, but that is immaterial; when one can do a kind turn, he ought to do it. I shall take up as many of you as I can at a time, and carry you to a pond at some distance in a forest, where no fisherman can molest you.' So saying, he carried each time a number of fish, and dropped them on a great piece of stone. There he made a hearty meal on as many as he could eat at a time, and left the remainder to dry in the sun. It came to the turn of the crab to be carried. While the crane was flying in the air, the crab saw fish all the way, dried and drying. He cut asunder the neck of the crane with his sharp feet, and, falling into a pond, saved himself and the remaining fish in the pond he had left. The wicked and the oppressor will find their doom in the end.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Cruel Crane Outwitted,"India, The Jataka",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Buddhist Birth Stories; or, Jataka Tales, translated by T. W. Rhys Davids, vol. 1 (London: Trübner and Company, 1880), , no. 38, pp. 317-20. Source (Internet Archive): Buddhist Birth Stories; or, Jataka Tales, translated by T. W. Rhys Davids, vol. 1 (London: Trübner and Company, 1880), , no. 38, pp. 317-20.","Long ago the Bodisat was born to a forest life as the Genius of a tree standing near a certain lotus pond. Now at that time the water used to run short at the dry season in a certain pond, not over large, in which there were a good many fish. And a crane thought, on seeing the fish, 'I must outwit these fish somehow or other and make a prey of them.' And he went and sat down at the edge of the water, thinking how he should do it. When the fish saw him, they asked him, 'What are you sitting there for, lost in thought?' 'I am sitting thinking about you,' said he. 'Oh, sir! what are you thinking about us?' said they. 'Why,' he replied; 'there is very little water in this pond, and but little for you to eat; and the heat is so great! So I was thinking, 'What in the world will these fish do now?'' 'Yes, indeed, sir! what are we to do?' said they. 'If you will only do as I bid you, I will take you in my beak to a fine large pond, covered with all the kinds of lotuses, and put you into it,' answered the crane. 'That a crane should take thought for the fishes is a thing unheard of, sir, since the world began. It's eating us, one after the other, that you're aiming at!' 'Not I! So long as you trust me, I won't eat you. But if you don't believe me that there is such a pond, send one of you with me to go and see it.' Then they trusted him, and handed over to him one of their number -- a big fellow, blind of one eye, whom they thought sharp enough in any emergency, afloat or ashore. Him the crane took with him, let him go in the pond, showed him the whole of it, brought him back, and let him go again close to the other fish. And he told them all the glories of the pond. And when they heard what he said, they exclaimed, 'All right, sir! You may take us with you.' Then the crane took the old purblind fish first to the bank of the other pond, and alighted in a Varana-tree growing on the bank there. But he threw it into a fork of the tree, struck it with his beak, and killed it; and then ate its flesh, and threw its bones away at the foot of the tree. Then he went back and called out, 'I've thrown that fish in; let another come!' And in that manner he took all the fish, one by one, and ate them, till he came back and found no more! But there was still a crab left behind there; and the crane thought he would eat him too, and called out, 'I say, good crab, I've taken all the fish away, and put them into a fine large pond. Come along. I'll take you too!' 'But how will you take hold of me to carry me along?' 'I'll bite hold of you with my beak.' 'You'll let me fall if you carry me like that. I won't go with you!' 'Don't be afraid! I'll hold you quite tight all the way.' Then said the crab to himself, 'If this fellow once got hold of fish, he would never let them go in a pond! Now if he should really put me into the pond, it would be capital; but if he doesn't -- then I'll cut his throat, and kill him!' So he said to him, 'Look here, friend, you won't be able to hold me tight enough; but we crabs have a famous grip. If you let me catch hold of you round the neck with my claws, I shall be glad to go with you.' And the other did not see that he was trying to outwit him, and agreed. So the crab caught hold of his neck with his claws as securely as with a pair of blacksmith's pincers, and called out, 'Off with you, now!' And the crane took him and showed him the pond, and then turned off towards the Varana-tree. 'Uncle!' cried the crab, 'the pond lies that way, but you are taking me this way!' 'Oh, that's it, is it!' answered the crane. 'Your dear little uncle, your very sweet nephew, you call me! You mean me to understand, I suppose, that I am your slave, who has to lift you up and carry you about with him! Now cast your eye upon the heap of fish-bones lying at the root of yonder Varana-tree. Just as I have eaten those fish, every one of them, just so I will devour you as well!' 'Ah! those fishes got eaten through their own stupidity,' answered the crab; 'but I'm not going to let you eat me. On the contrary, it is you that I am going to destroy. For you in your folly have not seen that I was outwitting you. If we die, we die both together; for I will cut off this head of yours, and cast it to the ground!' And so saying, he gave the crane's neck a grip with his claws, as with a vice. Then gasping, and with tears trickling from his eyes, and trembling with the fear of death, the crane beseeched him, saying, 'O my Lord! Indeed I did not intend to eat you. Grant me my life!' 'Well, well! step down into the pond, and put me in there.' And he turned round and stepped down into the pond, and placed the crab on the mud at its edge. But the crab cut through its neck as clean as one would cut a lotus-stalk with a hunting-knife, and then only entered the water! When the Genius who lived in the Varana-tree saw this strange affair, he made the wood resound with his plaudits, uttering in a pleasant voice the verse: The villain, though exceeding clever, Shall prosper not by his villany. He may win indeed, sharp-witted in deceit, But only as the crane here from the crab!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Fishes and the Cormorant,Jean de La Fontaine,Link to this fable in the original French: Les poissons et le cormoran.,"Source (books.google.com): The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 10, fable 4, pp. 261-62. Source (Internet Archive): The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright (London: Ingram, Cooke, and Company, 1853), book 10, fable 4, pp. 72.","No pond nor pool within his haunt But paid a certain cormorant Its contribution from its fishes, And stock'd his kitchen with good dishes. Yet, when old age the bird had chill'd, His kitchen was less amply fill'd. All cormorants, however grey, Must die, or for themselves purvey. But ours had now become so blind, His finny prey he could not find; And, having neither hook nor net, His appetite was poorly met. What hope, with famine thus infested? Necessity, whom history mentions, A famous mother of inventions, The following stratagem suggested: He found upon the water's brink A crab, to which said he, 'My friend, A weighty errand let me send: Go quicker than a wink -- Down to the fishes sink, And tell them they are doom'd to die; For, ere eight days have hasten'd by, Its lord will fish this water dry.' The crab, as fast as she could scrabble, Went down, and told the scaly rabble. What bustling, gathering, agitation! Straight up they send a deputation To wait upon the ancient bird. 'Sir Cormorant, whence hast thou heard This dreadful news? And what Assurance of it hast thou got? How such a danger can we shun? Pray tell us, what is to be done?' 'Why, change your dwelling-place,' said he, 'What, change our dwelling! How can we?' 'O, by your leave, I'll take that care, And, one by one, in safety bear You all to my retreat: The path's unknown To any feet, Except my own. A pool, scoop'd out by Nature's hands, Amidst the desert rocks and sands, Where human traitors never come, Shall save your people from their doom.' The fish republic swallow'd all, And, coming at the fellow's call, Were singly borne away to stock A pond beneath a lonely rock; And there good prophet cormorant, Proprietor and bailiff sole, From narrow water, clear and shoal, With ease supplied his daily want, And taught them, at their own expense, That heads well stored with common sense Give no devourers confidence. -- Still did the change not hurt their case, Since, had they staid, the human race, Successful by pernicious art, Would have consumed as large a part. What matters who your flesh devours. Of human or of bestial powers? In this respect, or wild or tame, All stomachs seem to me the same: The odds is small, in point of sorrow, Of death today, or death tomorrow.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Heron and the Crab (Bidpai),"India, The Book of Kalilah and Dimnah",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Kalilah and Dimnah; or, The Fables of Bidpai, translated from the Syriac version by I. G. N. Keith-Falconer (Cambridge: University Press, 1885), pp. 24-25. Source (Internet Archive): Kalilah and Dimnah; or, The Fables of Bidpai, translated from the Syriac version by I. G. N. Keith-Falconer (Cambridge: University Press, 1885), pp. 24-25.","The Jackal: It is said that in a certain marshy lake was a heron. And there were many fishes in the lake. [But in time the heron got too old to catch any,] and became very hungry, and his soul languished. A certain crab seeing him from afar, approached him, saying: 'Why is your soul distressed, and why are you sad?' The Heron: And how should I not be sad who until today have lived on these fishes, but this day have seen two fishermen, one of whom said to the other: 'Let us not catch (all) these fishes at one time,' his companion replying: 'I have seen another lake in which there are plenty of fishes. Let us go and catch them (first), and then we will come and catch all these in a twinkling.'' I know that when they return from their journey, they will not leave anything in this lake, and I shall utterly perish from life! Then the crab spoke to the fishes. And all the fishes gathered to the heron, and said to him: 'Although you are an enemy to us, because we are your food and you feed on us, still he who has the fear of God, in time of trouble does not refuse what is right, or profane the emblem of the faith. Lo! we are all knocking at your door, that you may hearken to us and ease the distress of our soul, and counsel us what to do in this distressful time.' The Heron:To do battle with the fishermen I am not able, and expel them from this region I cannot. But I know of a certain pool in which there is water abundant, fresh and clear. And there are green reeds in it. If you could remove thither from here, you would gain advantage to yourselves. The Fishes:But how is it possible for us to do so without your help? The Heron:I will do what you wish and consent to you. But I am sore afraid of those fishermen, lest they come hastily. But I will begin to carry some of you every day, as many as I can, until I have exhausted (you and taken) you all away from here. And he began to carry off one or two every day, and to convey them to a certain region, and to eat them there; the others being ignorant of it. It came to pass one day (that) the crab said to the heron: 'I too find this place unpleasant. Pray carry me off too and convey me with my companions.' So the heron carried off the crab. When he reached the place where he had eaten the fishes, the crab beheld and saw the bones of his companions. And he perceived that the heron had done this wickedness, and was about to devour him too. And the crab said within himself: 'He that goes forth to battle and encounters his enemy wherever it may be, if he knows that his enemy will not hesitate to destroy him if he can, whether he make war with him (the enemy) or remain at peace with him, he ought to fight for himself strenuously, and not destroy himself for want of exertion. For if he is vanquished and perishes, still his honour goes with him, and his glory (remains) on his head.' Then the crab grasped the heron's throat with his pincers, and kept gripping him with his claws, until he throttled him and took away his life. So the crab escaped from slaughter. And he went little by little until he got (back) to the fishes, whom he acquainted with the story about the heron. The jackal said to the raven: 'This parable I have related to you, [that you may know] that when a man engages in fraudulent plans and transactions and schemes, his wickedness returns on his own head, and he himself perishes by his own artifices.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Heron and the Crab (Parker),Sri Lanka,"Parker's source: A durayā [baggage carrier], Northwestern Province.","Source (Internet Archive): H. Parker, Village Folk-Tales of Ceylon, vol. 1 (London: Luzac and Company, 1910), no. 64, p. 342.","On account of it, the heron puts on a false appearance. 'I am indeed an ascetic,' he said. 'I do not kill living creatures,' he said. Thereupon the small fishes came for a talk. After they came he said, 'Being in this hole ye cannot go up and down,' he said. 'Because it is so, I will take you and put you in a river possessing length and breadth,' he said. After that, having taken them one by one he ate them. At the time when he was taking the crab which remained over from them, the crab took hold of the neck of the heron. While on the way, when the heron was preparing to kill the crab, the crab getting to know of it, cut the neck of the heron with his claws and killed it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Heron That Liked Crab-Meat,"India, The Panchatantra",NA,"Source (Wikisource): The Panchatantra, translated from the Sanskrit by Arthur W. Ryder (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), book 1, pp. 76-80. Source (Internet Archive): The Panchatantra (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), book 1, pp. 76-80. Source (Columbia University): The Panchatantra (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), book 1, pp. 76-80.","There was once a heron in a certain place on the edge of a pond. Being old, he sought an easy way of catching fish on which to live. He began by lingering at the edge of his pond, pretending to be quite irresolute, not eating even the fish within his reach. Now among the fish lived a crab. He drew near and said: 'Uncle, why do you neglect today your usual meals and amusements?' And the heron replied: 'So long as I kept fat and flourishing by eating fish, I spent my time pleasantly, enjoying the taste of you. But a great disaster will soon befall you. And as I am old, this will cut short the pleasant course of my life. For this reason I feel depressed.' 'Uncle,' said the crab, 'of what nature is the disaster?' And the heron continued: 'Today I overheard the talk of a number of fishermen as they passed near the pond. 'This is a big pond,' they were saying, 'full of fish. We will try a cast of the net tomorrow or the day after. But today we will go to the lake near the city.' This being so, you are lost, my food supply is cut off, I too am lost, and in grief at the thought, I am indifferent to food today.' Now when the water-dwellers heard the trickster's report, they all feared for their lives and implored the heron, saying: 'Uncle! Father! Brother! Friend! Thinker! Since you are informed of the calamity, you also know the remedy. Pray save us from the jaws of this death.' Then the heron said: 'I am a bird, not competent to contend with men. This, however, I can do. I can transfer you from this pond to another, a bottomless one.' By this artful speech they were so led astray that they said: 'Uncle! Friend! Unselfish kinsman! Take me first! Me first! Did you never hear this? Stout hearts delight to pay the price Of merciful self-sacrifice, Count life as nothing, if it end In gentle service to a friend.' Then the old rascal laughed in his heart, and took counsel with his mind, thus: 'My shrewdness has brought these fishes into my power. They ought to be eaten very comfortably.' Having thus thought it through, he promised what the thronging fish implored, lifted some in his bill, carried them a certain distance to a slab of stone, and ate them there. Day after day he made the trip with supreme delight and satisfaction, and meeting the fish, kept their confidence by ever new inventions. One day the crab, disturbed by the fear of death, importuned him with the words: 'Uncle, pray save me, too, from the jaws of death.' And the heron reflected: 'I am quite tired of this unvarying fish diet. I should like to taste him. He is different, and choice.' So he picked up the crab and flew through the air. But since he avoided all bodies of water and seemed planning to alight on the sun-scorched rock, the crab asked him: 'Uncle, where is that pond without any bottom?' And the heron laughed and said: 'Do you see that broad, sun-scorched rock? All the water-dwellers have found repose there. Your turn has now come to find repose.' Then the crab looked down and saw a great rock of sacrifice, made horrible by heaps of fish-skeletons. And he thought: 'Ah me! Friends are foes and foes are friends As they mar or serve your ends; Few discern where profit tends. Again: If you will, with serpents play; Dwell with foemen who betray: Shun your false and foolish friends, Fickle, seeking vicious ends. Why, he has already eaten these fish whose skeletons are scattered in heaps. So what might be an opportune course of action for me? Yet why do I need to consider? Man is bidden to chastise Even elders who devise Devious courses, arrogant, Of their duty ignorant. Again: Fear fearful things, while yet No fearful thing appears; When danger must be met, Strike, and forget your fears. So, before he drops me there, I will catch his neck with all four claws.' When he did so, the heron tried to escape, but being a fool, he found no parry to the grip of the crab's nippers, and had his head cut off. Then the crab painfully made his way back to the pond, dragging the heron's neck as if it had been a lotus-stalk. And when he came among the fish, they said: 'Brother, why come back?' Thereupon he showed the head as his credentials and said: 'He enticed the water-dwellers from every quarter, deceived them with his prevarications, dropped them on a slab of rock not far away, and ate them. But I -- further life being predestined -- perceived that he destroyed the trustful, and I have brought back his neck. Forget your worries. All the water-dwellers shall live in peace.' And that is why I say: 'A heron ate what fish he could, . . . . and the rest of it.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,"The Heron, the Fishes, and the Crab",Leo Tolstoy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Leo Tolstoy, Fables for Children; Stories for Children; Natural Science Stories; Natural Science Stories; Popular Education; Decembrists; Moral Tales; The Complete Works of Count Tolstoy, vol. 12 (London: J. M. Dent and Company, 1904), p. 24. Source (Internet Archive): Leo Tolstoy, Fables for Children; Stories for Children; Natural Science Stories; Natural Science Stories; Popular Education; Decembrists; Moral Tales; The Complete Works of Count Tolstoy, vol. 12 (Boston: Dana Estes and Company, 1904), p. 24.","A heron was living near a pond. She grew old, and had no strength left with which to catch the fish. She began to contrive how to live by cunning. So she said to the fishes: 'You fishes do not know that a calamity is in store for you: I have heard the people say that they are going to let off the pond, and catch every one of you. I know of a nice little pond back of the mountain. I should like to help you, but I am old, and it is hard for me to fly.' The fishes begged the heron to help them. So the heron said: 'All right, I will do what I can for you, and will carry you over. Only I cannot do it at once, -- I will take you there one after another.' And the fishes were happy; they kept begging her: 'Carry me over! Carry me over!' And the heron started carrying them. She would take one up, would carry her into the field, and would eat her up. And thus she ate a large number of fishes. In the pond there lived an old crab. When the heron began to take out the fishes, he saw what was up, and said: 'Now, heron, take me to the new abode!' The heron took the crab and carried him off. When she flew out on the field, she wanted to throw the crab down. But the crab saw the fish-bones on the ground, and so squeezed the heron's neck with his claws, and choked her to death. Then he crawled back to the pond, and told the fishes.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Pelican's Punishment,Malaya,This story was collected on the Tembeling River in Ulu Pahang.,"Source (books.google.com): Walter Skeat, Fables and Folk-Tales from an Eastern Forest (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1901), no. 7, pp. 18-19. Source (Internet Archive): Walter Skeat, Fables and Folk-Tales from an Eastern Forest (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1901), no. 7, pp. 18-19.","Undan the pelican, being hungry, told Ruan the fish that his pool would shortly dry up, and offered to carry himself or any members of his family to another pool to see how they liked it. To this Ruan agreed, and Undan carried him over to the pool and back again as stipulated, and the fish, liking it, informed all his relatives. Then Undan carried the fish back again to the new pool and returned to fetch the rest of his family. But instead of putting them into the pool, Undan sat in a tree and ate the fish till his droppings reached to the lower branches. By this time there were no more fish to be eaten, and Undan commenced in like manner to cheat the family of Ketam the crab. But as soon as ever Ketam caught sight of the droppings, he saw through the trick and pinched Undan's neck so that he died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
231,The Story of a Fish in the Pond,The 1001 Nights,NA,"Source (books.google.com): 'Geschichte eines Fisches im Wasserteich,' Tausend und eine Nacht: Arabische Erzählungen, translated by Gustav Weil, vol. 3 (Stuttgart: Rieger'sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1889), pp. 914-15. Source (Internet Archive): 'Geschichte eines Fisches im Wasserteich,' Tausend und eine Nacht: Arabische Erzählungen, translated by Gustav Weil, vol. 3 (Pforzheim: Dennig, Finch, & Co., 1841), pp. 914-15.","Once a great number of fish lived in a pond that was filled only by rainwater. It happened that one summer very little rain fell. The pond grew ever smaller, and the declining water level greatly concerned the fish. They said to one another: 'What will become of us? What can we do? Who can give us advice?' Then the oldest of them came forth and said: 'We can only turn to God and to the crab, the wisest of all water-dwellers.' The other fish all agreed, and they presented themselves before the crab, who was lying peacefully at the door of his nest. He knew nothing of the fishes' problem. The oldest of them approached him, and after greeting him, said: 'You need not concern yourself with our sad situation, o wise and learned crab.' The crab asked: 'Just what is your problem then?' They told him about the lack of water and of their approaching downfall, then asked him for advice and support. The crab was silent for a while, thinking: 'These simple fish have but little trust in God. But I shall set them at ease. God's will shall then transpire.' Then he said to the fish: 'Don't you fish know that the year has just begun. There is still plenty of water. It will rain again. Trust in God. Pray to him often, for he hears the prayers of his creatures. Let us wait until winter when it will rain as usual. If not we shall flee from this pond to wherever God leads us.' The fish expressed approval of the crab's opinion, thanked him, and went on their way. A few days later a great rain fell from heaven and filled the pond even higher than normal.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,Above the Ground and under the Ground,USA (North Carolina),NA,NA,"Devil said, 'We'll try it again. I'll take what grows out de groun', you take what grows in de groun'.' 'All right.' Planted a crop of potatoes. Prospec' he got dat crop. Devil said, 'You can't whip me.' Prospec' said, 'All right, try dat. What you want me to fight with?' Devil say, 'I'm going to take de foot ad [adze?], you take de peg-an'-awl.' 'All right, we'll have to fight dis battle in a hogshead.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,Jack o' Kent and the Devil: The Tops and the Butts,England,NA,NA,"There was not much top to be seen, so the devil said he's have the butts. At harvest time Jack accordingly had the wheat, the devil the straw. Naturally he grumbled a good deal over such a bad bargain. Next year the field was sown with turnip seed, and Jack said, 'You shall have tops this time.' The devil agreed to this, and in due time Jack had the turnips, leaving his partner the green tops. After that they went to mow a field of grass, each one to have all the hay he could cut. They were to begin together in the morning. Jack got up in the night and put harrow tines in the grass on the side of the meadow where the devil was to mow. In the morning these notched and blunted the scythe, which was continually catching in them; but the 'Old 'Un,' thinking they were only burdocks, kept muttering, 'Burdock, Jack! Burdock Jack!' Jack took no notice, and, mowing away diligently, secured nearly all the crop for himself once more. Then they went to threshing. Jack was to have bottoms this time, so he got the barn floor, and the devil went on top. He put up a hurdle [gate] for the devil to thresh on, and as he battered away Jack collected the corn [grain] on the floor.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,Mercury and the Traveller,Aesop,NA,NA,"Somebody had lost a bag of dates and almonds, it seems, and it was his fortune to find it. He fell to work upon 'em immediately, and when he had eaten up the kernels, and all that was good of them himself, he laid the stones and the shells upon an altar; and desir'd Mercury to to take notice that he had permorm'd his vow. 'For,' says he, 'here are the outsides of the one ande the insides of the other, and there's the moiety [division] I promis'd ye.' Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,Saint John and the Devil,Italy/Austria,NA,NA,"On the other hand, the devil clumsily took hold of a very long string and worked feverishly away. Because his string was always getting tangled up, the devil had to keep running back and forth in order to untangle it, and he was only half finished when Saint John had completed his work. The devil was very angry at having lost this first wager. He then pointed to a field and said, 'Let us take what is growing there and share it, each of us to receive half. Do you want the top or the bottom?' Saint John looked and saw that it was a field of turnips. He chose the bottom half. The devil was happy to get the top half, thinking that it was the best part, the bottom part being only thin, bitter roots. The two returned when the turnips had grown and were ready to harvest. Then the devil received only a little pile of half-withered, wormy leaves, whereas Saint John received a large pile of the most beautiful and juiciest turnips. When the devil became angry again, Saint John pointed to another field and asked, 'Do you want to wager once again?' 'Yes indeed,' replied the devil, 'but this time I'll take the bottom half.' 'Then I'll take the top part,' said John. However, this field was planted with wheat, and when harvest time came, Saint John received the beautiful heads, heavy with grain, while the devil was left with the naked stubble. The devil did not enter into any new wagers, but instead, filled with anger and rage, returned to hell.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,The Bear and the Fox Go into Partnership,Norway,NA,NA,"'Now we must share and share alike,' said Reynard. 'If you will have the roots I will have the tops,' he said. Yes, Bruin was quite willing. But when they had threshed the crop, the fox got all the grain, while the bear got nothing but the roots and tares. Bruin didn't like this, but the fox said it was only as they had agreed. 'This year I am the gainer,' said the fox. 'Another year it will be your turn. You can then have the tops, and I will be satisfied with the roots.' Next spring the fox asked the bear if he didn't think turnips would be the right thing for that year. 'Yes, that better food than grain,' said the bear, and the fox thought the same. When the autumn came the fox took the turnips, but the bear only got the tops. The bear then became so angry that he parted company then and there with Reynard.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,The Bogie and the Farmer,England,NA,NA,"One of these spirits [a Bogie] once asserted a claim to a field hitherto possessed by a farmer, and, after much disputing, they came to an arrangement by agreeing to divide its produce between them. At seed-time the farmer asks the Bogie what part of the crop he will have, 'tops or bottoms.' 'Bottoms,' said the spirit. Upon hearing which his crafty antagonist sows the field with wheat, so that when harvest arrived the corn [grain] falls to his share, while the poor Bogie is obliged to content himself with the stubble. Next year the Bogie, finding he had made such an unfortunate selection in the bottoms, chose the 'tops,' whereupon the crafty farmer sets the field with turnips -- thus, again, outwitting the simple claimant. Tired of this unprofitable farming, the Bogie agrees to hazard his claims on a mowing match, the land in question to be the stake for which they played. Before the day of meeting the canny earth-tiller procures a number of iron bars, which he strews among the grass to be mown by his opponent; and when the trial commences, the unsuspecting goblin finds his progress retarded by his scythe continually coming into contact with these obstacles, which he takes to be some hard species of dock. 'Mortal hard docks these!' said he. 'Nation hard docks!' His blunted blade soon brings him to a standstill; and as, in such cases, it is not allowable for one to sharpen without the other, he turns to his antagonist, now far ahead, and in a tone of despair inquires, 'When dye wiffle waffle (whet), mate?' 'Waffle!' said the farmer, with a well-feigned stare of amazement, 'oh, about noon, mebby.' 'Then,' said the despairing Bogie, 'I've lost my land!' So saying, he disappeared, and the farmer reaped the reward of his artifice by ever afterwards continuing the undisputed possessor of the soil.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,The Farmer and the Boggart,England,NA,NA,"'Very well,' says the farmer, 'wilt thou tek what grows above ground, or what grows beneath ground? Only, moind, thou mun stick to what thou sattles; oi doant want no back-reckunnings after.' He arranges to take what grows above ground, and the farmer promptly sets potatoes. Of course, when the boggart comes at harvest time to claim his share he gets nothing but the haulms and twitch, and is in a sore taking. At last, however, he agrees to take all that grows beneath ground for next season, whereupon the farmer sows wheat, and when boggart comes round at t' backend, the man gets corn and straw, and naught is left for boggart but the stubble. Boggart then insists that next year wheat should be sown again, and that they should mow together, each taking what he mows. The farmer consults the local wise man, and studs boggart's 'falls' with thin iron rods, which wear down boggart's strength in cutting and take all the edge of his scythe. So boggart stops to whet, and boggart stops to rest, but the farmer mows steadily on till at last the boggart throws down his scythe in despair and says, 'Ye may tek t' mucky owd land an' all 'ats on it; I wean't hev no more to do wi' it.' And off he goes and nivver comes back no more, leastways not after no land, but awms aboot t' delves, an' skears loane foaks o' noights; an' if thou leaves thy dinner or thy tools about, ofttimes he meks off wi' 'em.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,The Farmer and the Devil on Island of the Popefigs,"France, François Rabelais",NA,NA,"Pantagruel ... was told that for the last three years there had raged in the island a pestilence so horrible, that the half or more of the country had remained desolate, and the lands without occupiers. When the pestilence had gone by, this man ... was plowing a large and fertile piece of ground and sowing it with wheat at the very day and hour that a small devil (one who did not know how to thunder or hail except only on parsley and cabbages, and moreover could not yet read or write) had obtained leave from Lucifer to go for a holiday and recreation in this Island of the Popefigs, wherein the devils were very familiar with the men and women, and often went there to pass their time. This devil, having got to the place, addressed himself to the laborer, and asked him what he was doing. The poor man answered him that he was sowing this field with wheat, to help him to live the following year. 'Nay, but this field is none of thine,' said the devil. 'It is mine, and belongs to me; for ... all this country was adjudged, proscribed and given up to us. To sow corn, however, is not my province; wherefore I leave thee the field, but on condition that we share the profit.' 'I am willing,' answered the laborer. 'I mean,' said the devil, 'that we are to make two lots of the profit that results. One shall be that which grows above the earth, the other that which shall be covered by the earth. The right of choosing belongs to me, for I am a devil, born of a noble and ancient race; thou art but a clown. I make choice of that which shall be in the earth. Thou shall have that which is above. At what time shall be the in-gathering?' 'About the middle of July,' answered the laborer. 'Very well,' said the devil, 'I will not fail to be here. Meantime do as is thy duty to do. Work, villain, work. I am off to tempt to the gallant sin of luxury, the noble nuns of Pette-sec, also the cowled hypocrites and gluttons. Of their desires I am more than assured. They have but to meet, and the combat takes place.' When mid July had come, the devil presented himself at the place, accompanied by a troop of little devilkins of the choir. There, finding the laborer, he said, 'Now, villain, how hast thou done since my departure? It is fitting now that we should make out our shares.' 'It is but reason,' answered the laborer. Then the laborer and his men began to reap the corn. The devilkins likewise pulled up the stubble from the earth. The laborer threshed his corn on the threshing floor, winnowed it, put it in sacks and carried it to market to sell. The imps did the same, and set themselves down at the marketplace, near the laborer, to sell their stubble. The laborer sold his corn very well, and with the money filled an old half-buskin, which he carried at his girdle. The devils sold nothing. Nay, on the contrary, the peasants jeered at them in open market. When the market was over, the devil said to the laborer, 'Villain, thou hast cheated me this time. Next time thou shall not do so.' 'Master Devil,' said the laborer, 'how could I have cheated you, when you had the first choice? The truth is, that in this choice you thought to cheat me, expecting that nothing would come out of the earth for my share, and that you would find below the whole of the grain which I had sown, intending therewith to tempt the poor and needy, the hypocrites, or the misers, and by temptation to make them fall into your snares. But you are mighty young at your trade. The grain which you see in the earth is dead and rotten. The corruption of that has caused the generation of the other, which you saw me sell. So you do choose the worse. That is why you are cursed in the Gospel.' 'Let us leave this subject,' said the devil. 'What canst thou sow our field with next year? ' 'To make a profit like a good husbandman,' said the laborer, 'the proper thing would be to sow turnips.' 'Well,' said the devil, 'thou art an honest clown. Sow turnips in abundance. I will guard them from the storm, and will not hail upon them. But understand thoroughly: I retain for my share that which shall be above ground. Thou shall have all that is below. Work, villain, work. I am off to tempt the heretics. Their souls are dainty morsels when broiled on the coals. My lord Lucifer has the colic; they will make a tid-bit for him.' When the time of gathering was come, the devil appeared on the ground with a squadron of waiting devilkins. There, finding the laborer and his men, he began to cut and gather the leaves of the turnips. After him the laborer dug and pulled up the big turnips, and put them into sacks. So they all go off together to market. The laborer sold his turnips very well. The devil sold nothing, and, what was worse, they jeered at him publicly. 'I see very well, villain,' said the devil, 'that I have been cheated by thee. I will make an end of the business between thee and me.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,The Fox and the Wolf Plant Oats and Potatoes,Scotland,NA,NA,"'Well, then,' said the fox, 'wouldst thou rather have the root or the tip? Thou shalt have thy choice.' 'I'd rather the root,' said the wolf. Then the fox had fine oaten bread all the year, and the other one had fodder. On the next year they set a crop; and it was potatoes that they set, and they grew well. 'Which wouldst thou like best, the root or the crop this year?' said the fox. 'Indeed, thou shalt not take the twist out of me anymore. I will have the top this year,' quoth the wolf. 'Good enough, my hero,' said the fox. Thus the wolf had the potato tops, and the fox the potatoes. But the wolf used to keep stealing the potatoes from the fox.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,The Peasant and the Bear,Russia,NA,NA,"So he went to Bruin and said, 'Look here, Bruin, let's keep house and plant our garden and sow our corn together.' And Bruin asked, 'But how shall we divide it afterwards?' 'How shall we divide it?' said the peasant, 'Well, you take all the tops and let me have all the roots.' 'All right,' answered Bruin. So they sowed some turnips, and they grew beautifully. And Bruin worked hard, and gathered in all the turnips, and then they began to divide them. And the peasant said, 'The tops are yours, aren't they, Bruin?' 'Yes,' he answered. So the peasant cut off all the turnip tops and gave them to Bruin, and then sat down to count the roots. And Bruin saw that the peasant had done him down. And he got huffy, lay down in his den, and started sucking his paws. The next spring the peasant again came to see him, and said, 'Look here, Bruin, let's work together again, shall we?' And Bruin answered, 'Right-ho! Only this time mind! you can have the tops, but I'm going to have the roots!' 'Very, well,' said the peasant. And they sowed some wheat, and when the ears grew up and ripened, you never saw such a sight. Then they began to divide it, and the peasant took all the tops with the grain, and gave Bruin the straw and the roots. So he didn't get anything that time either. And Bruin said to the peasant, 'Well, good-bye! I'm not going to work with you any more, you're too crafty!' And with that he went off into the forest.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1030,The Peasant and the Devil,Germany,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a clever, wily peasant, whose tricks could be much talked about. The best story, however, is how he once got the best of the devil and made a fool of him. One day the peasant had been working in his field, and just as it was getting dark he was getting ready to go home when in the middle of his field he saw a pile of burning coals. Filled with amazement he walked toward it, and sitting on the top of the glowing coals there was a little black devil. 'You must be sitting on a treasure,' said the peasant. 'Yes indeed,' replied the devil, 'on a treasure that contains more gold and silver than you have ever seen in your life.' 'The treasure is in my field and belongs to me,' said the peasant. 'It is yours,' answered the devil, 'if for two years you will give me one half of everything your field produces. I have enough money, but I have a desire for the fruits of the earth.' The peasant entered into the bargain, saying, 'To prevent any dispute from arising about the division, everything above the ground shall belong to you, and everything beneath the ground to me.' The devil was quite satisfied with that, but the cunning peasant had planted turnips. Now when harvest time came the devil appeared and wanted to take away his crop, but he found nothing except the yellow withered leaves, and the happy peasant dug up his turnips. 'You got the best of me this time,' said the devil, 'but it won't happen again. Next time what grows above ground shall be yours, and what is under it shall be mine.' 'That is all right with me,' answered the peasant. When planting time came the peasant did not plant turnips again, but wheat. The crop ripened, and the peasant went into the field and cut the full stalks off at ground level. When the devil came he found nothing but the stubble, and he angrily disappeared into a chasm in a cliff. 'That's the way one has to deal with foxes,' said the peasant, then carried away the treasure.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,"Cecilio, the Servant of Emilio",Philippines,"Fansler's Source: 'Narrated by Sancho B. de Leon, a Tagalog from Santa Cruz, Laguna. He heard the story from his grandfather.'","Source (books.google.com): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 28, pp. 237-40. Source (Internet Archive): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 28, pp. 237-40.","Once upon a time there lived a witty orphan whose name was Cecilio. His parents had died when he was six years old. After that time he became a servant of Emilio, a man of wealth living in a very lonely and desolate barrio. The boy was faithful and kind-hearted, but his master was cruel. Cecilio had no wages at all. In short, he served Emilio for four years, and at the end of that time he was given five hundred centavos as a payment for his services. Cecilio thought that he had been given too much: he was so simple-minded, that he did not know he had been cheated by his master, who should have given him ten times five hundred centavos. Cecilio put his money in a new purse, and rushed out into the main road of the barrio to find his companions and tell them of the reward he had received. He was so very happy, that before he knew it, and without feeling at all tired, he had reached another barrio. Suddenly on his way he met two men with drawn bolos. They stopped him, and said, 'Boy, your money, or your life!' Cecilio was much amazed at these words, but was also so frightened that he gave up the money at once. He only said to himself, 'Well, since I am not strong enough to defend myself, I either have to surrender my money or die.' He sat under a tree lamenting his fortune. But the two robbers were in trouble, because one of them wanted a greater share than the other. The second robber said that their shares should be the same, for they had stolen the money together; but the former answered, 'I am in all respects better than you are.' 'Oh, no! for we have not yet had a trial,' said the second. At this they began to fight; and soon both fell so severely wounded, that they died before Cecilio, who had heard the noise of the struggle, could reach the place where they were disputing. Now the boy was very happy again, for he had gotten his money back. As he had already travelled very far, he did not know where he was: he was lost. But he proceeded along the road until he met another man, who said roughly to him, 'Give me your money, or else you will die!' Cecilio, thinking that he would rather live than try to defend his wealth, which he would lose in any case, gave his purse to the man. Then the boy went away and wept. While he was crying over his bad luck, a very old woman came near him, and said, 'Why are you weeping, my boy?' The boy replied, 'I am weeping because somebody took my money.' 'Well, why did you give it up?' said the old woman. 'I gave it up because he said that he would kill me if I didn't.' Then the old woman said, 'Take this cane with you, and whenever you see him, let it loose and pronounce these words: 'Sigue garrole, sigue garrote, Strike that fellow over there!' When you want the cane to stop, all you need to say is: 'Stop, stop, for that is enough!'' The boy then said, 'Is that all?' 'After you have recovered your money,' said the old woman, 'you must turn back here; but you had better hurry up now.' Cecilio then bade the old woman good-by, and at once ran away to overtake the man who had robbed him. When he saw the man, he said, 'Give me back my money, or else you now shall die, and not I!' The man laughed at him, and said, 'Of course I shall not give you back your money.' When he heard these words, the boy said, 'Is that so?' and, letting go of his cane, he uttered the formula that the old woman had told him to pronounce. The cane at once began to rain blows on the stranger's head and body. When he could no longer endure the blows, and saw that he could not catch the stick, the man said, 'If you will call off your cane, I will return your purse.' 'Very well, I will pardon you,' said Cecilio; 'but if you had treated me as you should have treated me and others, you would not have been harmed.' Then he said to the cane, 'Stop, stop, for that is enough!' At once the magic stick stopped, and returned to its owner. The money was given back, and the man promised Cecilio that he would not rob any poor boy again. On his way back toward the old woman, Cecilio met another man who wanted to rob him; but the boy said, 'Don't you dare attempt to take my purse, or you will get yourself into trouble!' The man became angry, and rushed at Cecilio to knock him down; but the boy pronounced the words which the old woman had taught him, and let the cane loose. The cane at once began to rain blows on the man's head and body. When he could no longer endure the pain, the man asked Cecilio's pardon. As the youth was kind-hearted, he forgave the man. When he reached the old woman's house, Cecilio told her that the cane had been very useful to him, for it had saved both his life and his money. Then he returned the stick to the old woman, and thanked her very much. She now offered to sell him a guitar which she had, the price of which was five hundred centavos. Since she had been so good to him, Cecilio at once agreed to the exchange; and after he had once more bade her good-by, he set out for his master's house. When he came near his old home, Cecilio saw his master Emilio shooting at a very handsome bird on the top of a bamboo-tree. The bird fell down, and the man ran to pick it up. As Emilio was making his way up to the bird through the thorny bamboo undergrowth, Cecilio sat down to wait for him, and, having nothing else to do, began to play his guitar. The master at once began to dance among the bamboo-trees, and he received many wounds because of the sharp spines. Now, in reality, the boy was playing his guitar unintentionally, and did not know of its magic power; but Emilio thought that Cecilio had discovered the deceit that had been practised on him, and was playing for revenge. Now, it happened that Emilio had a purse of money with him to give to the laborers working in his hacienda, so he promised to give all this money to Cecilio if he would only stop playing. The boy, who had by this time learned of the magic power of his guitar, stopped his music and received the money. The crafty Emilio, however, at once hastened to the town, and asked the magistrate to apprehend Cecilio, a young robber. Cecilio set out for the old woman's house again; but the policemen soon overtook him, arrested him, and took him before the magistrate. There the boy was sentenced to death the next morning. Emilio's money was given back to him. The following day, when he was about to be shot, Cecilio asked permission to play his guitar once more, and he was not refused it. As soon as he began to play, all began to dance, even his master, who was still sore from the previous day's exercise. Finally Emilio could endure no more. He begged Cecilio to stop playing, and promised to give him all his wealth. He then told the soldiers to set the boy free, for it was all his own fault. Cecilio stopped playing, and was liberated by the magistrate. Emilio kept his word, and bestowed on the boy all his wealth. When the old man died, Cecilio was the richest man in the town. He be came a capitan, and was greatly honored by the inhabitants of his barrio.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,Cochinango,Philippines,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 35, pp. 276-79. Source (Internet Archive): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 35, pp. 276-79. Fansler's source: 'Narrated by Felix Y. Velasco, who heard the story from his grandmother, a native of Laong, Ilocoa Norte.'","Cochinango wondered how he could ever marry the princess and himself be king, for he was very poor. One day he heard that the king had summoned all those who would like to at tempt to answer the questions of the princess. It was announced that the person who could answer them all without fail should marry her. Cochinango thought that the time had now come for him to try his fortune, so he mounted his ass and rode towards the king's palace. On his way Cochinango had to pass through a wide forest. Just at the edge of the wood he met a weary traveller. Cochinango had forgotten to bring buyo with him, so he asked the traveller for some. The traveller said, 'I have with me a magic buyo that will answer any question you put to it. If you give me some food, I will give you my buyo.' Cochinango willingly exchanged a part of his provisions for it. Then he rode on. He came to a stream, where he met an old man leaning on his cane. Seeing that the old man wanted to get on the other side, but was too weak to swim, Cochinango offered to carry him across. In return for his kindness, the old man gave him his cane. 'You are very kind, young man,' said he. 'Take this cane, which will furnish you with food at any time.' Cochinango thanked the old man, took the cane, and rode on. It is to be known that this old man was the same one who had given him the magic buyo. It was God himself, who had come down on earth to test Cochinango and to reward him for his kindness. Cochinango had not ridden far when he met a wretched old woman. Out of pity he gave her a centavo, and in return she gave him an empty purse from which he could ask any sum of money he wanted. Cochinango rode on, delighted with his good fortune, when he met God again, this time in the form of a jolly young fellow with a small guitar. He asked Cochinango to exchange his ass for the guitar. At first Cochinango hesitated; but, when he was told that he could make anybody dance by plucking its strings, he readily agreed to exchange. Cochinango now had to proceed on foot, and it took him two days to reach the gates of the palace. Luckily he arrived on the very day of the guessing-contest. In spite of his mean dress, he was admitted. The princess was much astonished at Cochinango's appearance, and disgusted by his boldness; but she was even more chagrined when he rightly answered her first question. Yet she denied that his answer was correct. She asked him two more questions, the most difficult that she could think of; but Cochinango, with the help of his magic buyo, answered both. The princess, however, could not admit that his answers were right. She shrunk from the idea of being married to a poor, foolish, lowly-born man. So she asked her father the king to imprison the insolent peasant, which was instantly done. In the prison Cochinango found many nobles who, like himself, were victims of the guessing-match. Night came, and they were not given any food. The princess wanted to starve them to death. Cochinango told them not to worry; he struck a table with his cane, and instantly choice food appeared. When this was reported to the princess by the guards, she went to the prison and begged Cochinango to give her the cane; but he would not give it up unless she allowed him to kiss her. At last she consented, and went away with the cane, thinking that this was the only way by which she could starve her prisoners. The next day Cochinango asked for a large sum of money from his magic purse. He distributed it among his companions and among the guards, and they had no difficulty in getting food. Again the princess went to the prison, and asked Cochinango for the purse; but he would give it up only on condition that he be allowed to dine with the king. Accordingly he was taken to the king's table, where he ate with the king and the princess; but he was put in prison again as soon as the dinner was over. At last Cochinango began to be tired of prison life, so he took up his wonderful guitar and began to play it. No sooner had he touched the strings than his fellow prisoners and the guards began to dance. As he played his guitar louder and louder, the inmates of the palace heard it, and they too began to dance. He kept on playing throughout the night; and the king, princess, and all got no rest whatsoever. By morning most of them were tired to death. At last the king ordered the guards to open the prison doors and let the prisoners go free; but Cochinango would not stop playing until the king consented to give him the princess in marriage. The princess also at last had to agree to accept Cochinango as her husband, so he stopped playing. The next day they were married with great pomp and ceremony. Thus the poor, foolish boy was married to a princess. More than once he saved the kingdom from the raiding Moros by playing his guitar; for all his enemies were obliged to dance when they heard the music, and thus they were easily captured or killed. When the king died, Cochinango became his successor, and he and the princess ruled happily for many years. Fansler's source: 'Narrated by Felix Y. Velasco, who heard the story from his grandmother, a native of Laong, Ilocoa Norte.' Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,Jack Horner's Magic Pipes,England,Jack Horner's adventures continue as a type 571B folktale: Jack Horner and the Innkeeper's Wife.,"Source (books.google.com): The Pleasant History of Jack Horner: containing the witty Tricks and pleasant Pranks he play'd from his Youth to his riper Years; pleasant and delightful both for Winter and Summer Recreation (London: J. Drewry, [ca. 1790]), chs. 4-5, pp. 9-13. Source (Internet Archive): The Pleasant History of Jack Horner: containing the witty Tricks and pleasant Pranks he play'd from his Youth to his riper Years; pleasant and delightful both for Winter and Summer Recreation (London: J. Drewry, [ca. 1790]), chs. 4-5, pp. 9-13.","CHAP. IV How he met with an old Hermit, who for a Bottle of nappy Ale, gave him an invincible Coat and a Pair of inchanted Pipes, with which he shewed many merry Tricks. Upon a pleasant holyday. Jack going to a fair, And as he passed along the way, He saw a wonder there. An aged man sat in a Cave, Who could not stand nor go, His head bore blossoms of the grave, And locks as white as snow, Strange hollow eyes and wrinkled brow His nose and chin did meet, To him Jack Homer made a bow, With words both soft and sweet. He call'd to John and thus did say, Come hither lad to me, And if thou dost my will obey, Thou shalt rewarded be: Bring me a fairing from the town, At thy own proper cost, A jug of nappy liquor brown, Thy labour shan't be lost. Jack made the Hermit this reply, Who then sat in his cell, What's your request I'll not deny, And so old dad farewel. At night he being stout and strong, This Hermit he'd not fail, But at his back he lug'd along, A lusty jug of ale: Which when the Hermit he beheld, It pleas'd him to the heart; Out of the same cup he fill'd, And said, Before we part, I have a pipe which I'll bestow Upon you never doubt, Whoever hears you when you blow, Shall dance and trump about: They shan't be able to stand still While you the Music play, But after you o'er dale and hill, They all shall dance the hay. I have thee a coat likewise, Invincible I mean, The which shall so bedim their eyes, That thou shalt not be seen: If you with a hundred meet, When thus you pass along, Though in the very open street, Not one of all the throng, Shall ever see you in the least, Yet hear the music sound, And wonder that both man and beast, Are forced to dance around. Jack took the Coat and Bagpipes too, And thankfully did say, Old Father I will call on you Whene'er I come this way. CHAP. V How he serv'd six Fidlers, and as many Pedlers, whom he caused to dance thro' Hedge and Ditch after his Pipes, till they broke all their Glasses and Crowds. This Pipe and coat he having got, He homeward trudg'd with speed, At length it was his happy Lot to cross a pleasant Mead: Where he six Fidlers soon espy'd a coming from a Fair, Under their Coats, crowds by their sides, and many others there: Amongst the rest six jolly blades, after those crowders came, Who on their shoulders carried Crades with Glasses in the same. Jack presently his Coat put on, Which screen'd him from their sight, And said I'll do the best I can To plague them all this night. For Crowders they are Rogues I know And Crades-men they are worse, They cousin all where'er they go, And pick each Lass's purse. His pipe he then began to play, The Crowders they did dance, The Crades-men too as fast as they Did caper, skip, and prance. Still Jack play'd up a merry strain, Both pleasant, loud, and shrill, So that they danc'd and jump'd amain Tho' much against their Will: They cried, this is enchanted Ground, For why no soul we see, And yet a pleasant Music sound, Makes, us dance vehemently. Jack Homer laugh'd, and piping went Strait down into a hollow, These hair brain'd Dancers, by consent Did after him soon follow, He led them through Bogs and Sloughs Nay, likewise Ponds and Ditches, And in the thorny briar boughs Poor rogues they tore their Breeches, Each Fidler lost, or tore his Cloak, But yet they followed after, Their crow'ds were, crack'd their glasses broke, This was a woeful slaughter. At length it being something late, Jack did his piping leave, They ceased and saw their wretched state, Which made them sigh and grieve. This is, said some, Old Nick I know The author of this evil, The others cry'd out, if it be so, He is a merry Devil. Jack Horner laugh'd and went his Way And left them in despair, So that e'er since that very day, The Fidlers came not there.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,Little Freddy and His Fiddle,Norway,Link to the original Norwegian text: Veslefrikk med fela.,"Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Tales from the Fjeld: A Second Series of Popular Tales from the Norse of P. Chr. Asbjørnsen, translated by G. W. Dasent (London: Chapman and Hall, 1874), pp. 293-301. Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Tales from the Fjeld: A Second Series of Popular Tales from the Norse of P. Chr. Asbjørnsen, translated by G. W. Dasent (London: Chapman and Hall, 1874), pp. 293-301.","Once on a time there was a cottager who had an only son, and this lad was weakly, and hadn't much health to speak of; so he couldn't go out to work in the field. His name was Freddy, and undersized he was, too; and so they called him Little Freddy. At home there was little either to bite or sup, and so his father went about the country trying to bind him over as a cowherd or an errand-boy; but there was no one who would take his son till he came to the sheriff, and he was ready to take him, for he had just packed off his errand-boy, and there was no one who would fill his place, for the story went that he was a skinflint. But the cottager thought it was better there than nowhere: he would get his food, for all the pay he was to get was his board -- there was nothing said about wages or clothes. So when the lad had served three years he wanted to leave, and then the sheriff gave him all his wages at one time. He was to have a penny a year. 'It couldn't well be less,' said the sheriff. And so he got threepence in all. As for Little Freddy, he thought it was a great sum, for he had never owned so much; but for all that he asked if he wasn't to have something more. 'You have already had more than you ought to have,' said the sheriff. 'Sha'n't I have anything, then, for clothes?' asked Little Freddy; 'for those I had on when I came here are worn to rags, and I have had no new ones.' And, to tell the truth, he was so ragged that the tatters hung and flapped about him. 'When you have got what we agreed on,' said the sheriff, 'and three whole pennies beside, I have nothing more to do with you. Be off!' But for all that be got leave just to go into the kitchen and get a little food to put in his scrip; and after that he set off on the road to buy himself more clothes. He was both merry and glad, for he had never seen a penny before; and every now and then he felt in his pockets as he went along to see if he had them all three. So when he had gone far, and farther than far, he got into a narrow dale, with high fells on all sides, so that he couldn't tell if there were any way to pass out; and he began to wonder what there could be on the other side of those fells, and how he ever should get over them. But up and up he had to go, and on he strode; he was not strong on his legs, and had to rest every now and then -- and then he counted and counted how many pennies he had got. So when he had got quite up to the very top, there was nothing but a great plain overgrown with moss. There he sat him down, and began to see if his money were all right; and before he was aware of him a beggar-man came up to him -- and he was so tall and big that the lad began to scream and screech when he got a good look of him, and saw his height and length. 'Don't you be afraid,' said the beggar-man, ''I'll do you no harm; I only beg for a penny, in God's name.' 'Heaven help me!' said the lad. 'I have only three pennies, and with them I was going to the town to buy clothes.' 'It is worse for me than for you,' said the beggar-man. 'I have got no penny, and I am still more ragged than you.' 'Well! then you shall have it,' said the lad. So when he had walked on awhile he got weary, and sat down to rest again. But when he looked up there he saw another beggar-man, and he was still taller and uglier than the first; and so when the lad saw how very tall and ugly and long he was he fell a-screeching. 'Now, don't you be afraid of me,' said the beggar; 'I'll not do you any harm. I only beg for a penny, in God's name.' 'Now, may heaven help me!' said the lad. 'I've only got two pence, and with them I was going to the town to buy clothes. If I had only met you sooner, then --' 'It's worse for mo than for you,' said the beggar-man. I have no penny, and a bigger body and less clothing.' 'Well, you may have it,' said the lad. So he went awhile farther, till he got weary, and then he sat down to rest; but he had scarce sat down than a third beggar-man came to him. He was so tall and ugly and long, that the lad had to look up and up, right up to the sky. And when he took him all in with his eyes, and saw how very, very tall and ugly and ragged he was he fell a-screeching and screaming again. 'Now, don't you be afraid of me, my lad,' said the beggar-man. 'I'll do you no harm; for I am only a beggar-man, who begs for a penny in God's name.' 'May heaven help me!' said the lad. 'I have only one penny left, and with it I was going to the town to buy clothes. If I had only met you sooner, then --' 'As for that,' said the beggar-man, 'I have no penny at all -- that I haven't, and a bigger body and less clothes, so it is worse for me than for you.' 'Yes!' said Little Freddy, he must have the penny then -- there was no help for it; for so each would have what belonged to him, and he would have nothing. 'Well!' said the beggarman, 'since you have such a good heart that you gave away all that you had in the world, I will give you a wish for each penny.' For you must know it was the same beggar-man who had got them all three; he had only changed his shape each time, that the lad might not know him again. 'I have always had such a longing to hear a fiddle go, and see folk so glad and merry that they couldn't help dancing,' said the lad; 'and so, if I may wish what I choose, I will wish myself such a fiddle, that everything that has life must dance to its tune.' 'That he might have,' said the beggarman; but it was a sorry wish. 'You must wish something better for the other two pennies.' 'I have always had such a love for hunting and shooting,' said Little Freddy; 'so if I may wish what I choose, I will wish myself such a gun that I shall hit everything I aim at, were it ever so far off.' 'That he might have,' said the beggarman; 'but it was a sorry wish. You must wish better for the last penny.' 'I have always had a longing to be in company with folk who were kind and good,' said Little Freddy; and so, if I could get what I wish, I would wish it to be so that no one can say 'Nay' to the first thing I ask.' 'That wish was not so sorry,' said the beggarman; and off he strode between the hills, and he saw him no more. And so the lad laid down to sleep, and the next day he came down from the fell with his fiddle and his gun. First he went to the storekeeper and asked for clothes, and at one farm he asked for a horse, and at another for a sledge; and at this place he asked for a fur coat, and no one said him 'Nay,' -- even the stingiest folk, they were all forced to give him what he asked for. At last he went through the country as a fine gentleman, and had his horse and his sledge; and so when he had gone a bit he met the sheriff with whom he had served. 'Good-day, master,' said Little Freddy, as he pulled up and took off his hat. 'Good-day,' said the sheriff. And then he went on, 'When was I ever your master?' 'Oh, yes!' said Little Freddy. 'Don't you remember how I served you three years for three pence?' 'Heaven help us!' said the sheriff. 'How you have got on all of a hurry! And pray how was it that you got to be such a fine gentleman?' 'Oh, that's tellings!' said Little Freddy. 'And are you full of fun, that you carry a fiddle about with you?' asked the sheriff.' 'Yes! Yes!' said Freddy. 'I have always had such a longing to get folk to dance; but the funniest thing of all is this gun, for it brings down almost anything that I aim at, however far it may be off. Do you see that magpie yonder, sitting in the spruce fir? What'll you bet I don't bag it, as we stand here?' On that the sheriff was ready to stake horse and groom, and a hundred dollars beside, that he couldn't do it; but, as it was, he would bet all the money he had about him; and he would go to fetch it when it fell -- for he never thought it possible for any gun to carry so far. But as the gun went off down fell the magpie, and into a great bramble thicket; and away went the sheriff up into the brambles after it, and he picked it up and showed it to the lad. But in a trice Little Freddy began to scrape his fiddle, and the sheriff began to dance, and the thorns to tear him; but still the lad played on, and the sheriff danced, and cried, and begged till his clothes flew to tatters, and he scarce had a thread to his back. 'Yes!' said Little Freddy; 'now I think you're about as ragged as I was when I left your service. So now you may get off with what you have got.' But, first of all, the sheriff had to pay him what he had wagered that he could not hit the magpie. So when the lad came to the town he turned aside into an inn, and he began to play, and all who came danced, and he lived merrily and well. He had no care, for no one could say him 'Nay' to anything he asked. But just as they were all in the midst of their fun up came the watchmen to drag the lad off to the town-hall: for the sheriff had laid a charge against him, and said he had waylaid him and robbed him, and nearly taken his life. And now he was to be hanged -- they would not hear of anything else. But Little Freddy had a cure for all trouble, and that was his fiddle. He began to play on it, and the watchmen fell a-dancing, till they lay down and gasped for breath. So they sent soldiers and the guard on their way; but it was no better with them than with the watchmen. As soon as ever Little Freddy scraped his fiddle, they were all bound to dance, so long as he could lift a finger to play a tune; but they were half dead long before he was tired. At last they stole a march on him, and took him while he lay asleep by night; and when they had caught him he was doomed to be hanged on the spot, and away they hurried him to the gallows-tree. There a great crowd of people flocked together to see this wonder, and the sheriff, he, too, was there; and he was so glad at last at getting amends for the money and the skin he had lost, and that he might see him hanged with his own eyes. But they did not get him to the gallows very fast, for Little Freddy was always weak on his legs, and now he made himself weaker still. His fiddle and his gun he had with him also -- it was hard to part him from them; and so, when he came to the gallows, and had to mount the steps, he halted on each step; and when he got to the top he sat down, and asked if they could deny him a wish, and if he might have leave to do one thing? He had such a longing, he said to scrape a tune and play a bar on his fiddle before they hanged him. 'No! No!' they said. 'It were sin and shame to deny him that.' For, you know, no one could gainsay what he asked. But the sheriff he begged them, for God's sake, not to let him have leave to touch a string, else it was all over with them altogether; and if the lad got leave, he begged them to bind him to the birch that stood there. So Little Freddy was not slow in getting his fiddle to speak, and all that were there fell a-dancing at once -- those who went on two legs, and those who went on four; both the dean and the parson, and the lawyer, and the bailiff, and the sheriff; masters and men, dogs and swine, they all danced and laughed and screeched at one another. Some danced till they lay for dead; some danced till they fell into a swoon. It went badly with all of them, but worst of all with the sheriff, for there he stood bound to the birch, and he danced and scraped great bits off his back against the trunk. There was not one of them who thought of doing anything to Little Freddy, and away he went with his fiddle and his gun, just as he chose; and he lived merrily and happily all his days, for there was no one who could say him 'Nay' to the first thing he asked for.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,The Friar and the Boy,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): W. Carew Hazlitt, Tales and Legends of National Origin or Widely Current in England from Early Times (London: Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1899), pp. 17-25. Source (Internet Archive): W. Carew Hazlitt, Tales and Legends of National Origin or Widely Current in England from Early Times (London: Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1899), pp. 17-25.","At length she said unto the goodman: 'I heartily pray you, sir, that you would put away this boy, who is a cursed plague to me, and let him serve someone else who will give him his desert.' Her husband answered her, saying: 'Woman, he is but a child. Let him abide with us another year, till he is better able to shift. We have a man, a stout carl, who keeps our beasts afield; look, the boy shall take his place, and we will have the fellow in the stead of him at home.' To which the goodwife agreed. So on the morrow the little lad was sent to tend the sheep, and all the way he sang out of the gaiety of his heart; and his dinner he carried with him in a clout. But when he came to see what his step-dame had given him to eat, he had small lust thereto, and he took but little, thinking that he would get more when he returned homeward at sundown. The boy sat on a hillside, watching his sheep and singing, when there came along an aged man, and stood still, when he espied the child, saying unto him: 'Son, God bless thee!' 'Welcome, father,' the boy replied. The old man said: 'I hunger sore; hast thou any food of which thou mightest give me even some?' The child returned: 'To such victual as I have thou art welcome, father.' So he gave the old man the rest of his dinner, and thereof he was full fain. He ate, and grudged not. To please him was not hard. Then, when he had finished, he said: 'Gramercy, child; and for the meat which thou hast spared me I will give thee three things. Tell me now what they shall be.' The boy thought in his mind, and anon: 'I would,' quoth he, 'have a bow, wherewith I could shoot birds.' 'I will find thee incontinently,' said the stranger, 'one that shall last thee through thy whole life, and shall never need renewing. Thou hast but to draw it, and it will hit the mark.' Then he handed him the bow and the arrows; and when the child saw them, aloud he laughed, and was mightily content. 'Now,' said he, 'if I had a pipe, if it were ever so small, then I should be glad.' 'A pipe I here give thee,' the old man said, 'which hath in it strange properties; for all whosoever, save thyself, shall hear it, when thou playest, must dance to the music perforce. I promised thee three things. Say, what is to be the last?' 'I seek nothing more,' replied the boy. 'Nothing?' quoth the stranger. 'Speak, and thou hast thy will.' 'Well,' said he, musing, 'I have at home a step-dame -- a shrewd wife she -- and she oftentimes looks ill-favouredly at me, as though she meant me no love. Now, prythee, when so she looketh in that wise, let her laugh till she fall to the earth, and laugh still, unless I bid her to desist.' 'It is granted,' said the stranger. 'Farewell!' 'God keep thee, sir,' said the boy. The evening drew on, and Jack wended homeward in great glee. He took his pipe and played it, and all his beasts and his dog danced to it in a row. He played as he went along, and the sheep and kine followed at his heels and the dog, dancing all the way, till they came to his father's abode; and he put by the pipe, and saw that all was fast, and then walked he into the house. His father sat at his supper, and Jack said unto him: 'I am a-hungered, sir; my dinner I might not eat, and I have had charge of the beasts the whole day.' The husbandman threw a capon's wing toward him and told him to eat it. The goodwife sorely grudged that he should have so fair a morsel, and eyed him sourly. But she straightway fell to laughing, and she laughed, and she laughed, till she could no longer stand or sit, and fell on the floor, laughing still, and she ceased not till she was half-dead; and then the boy said: 'Dame, enough!' and she laughed not a whit more, which made them both amazed. Now this goodwife loved a friar, who oftentimes came to the house; and when he next shewed himself she made complaint to him of the boy, and told him how Jack had caused her to laugh, and had mocked her, and she prayed this friar to meet him on the morrow and beat him for his pains. 'I will do thy pleasure as thou desirest,' quoth the friar. 'Do not forget,' quoth the goodwife. 'I trow he is some witch.' So the morning following the boy went forth to drive his father's beasts to the field, and he took with him his bow and his pipe. And the friar rose betimes likewise, lest he might be too late, and he approached the boy, and thus he accosted him: 'What, forsooth, hast thou done by thy step-mother, Jack, that she is angered at thee? Tell me what it is; and if thou canst not satisfy me, surely I will beat thee.' 'What aileth thee?' asked Jack. 'My dame fares as well as thou. Have done with thy chiding. Come, wilt thou see how I can bring down a bird with my bow, and what other things I can do? Though I be a little fellow, I will shoot yonder bird, and yours it shall be.' 'Shoot on,' said the friar. The bird was hit surely enough, and dropped into a thorn-bush. 'Go and fetch it,' said Jack. The friar stepped into the middle of the brambles and picked up the bird. Jack put the pipe to his lips and began to play. The friar let the bird fall and set to dancing, and the louder the pipe sounded the higher he leapt, and the more the briars tore his clothes and pierced his flesh. His dress was now in shreds, and the blood streamed from his legs and arms. Jack played all the faster, and laughed withal. 'Gentle Jack,' gasped out the friar, 'hold thy hand. I have danced so long that I am like to die. Let me go, and I promise thee I will never again offer thee harm.' 'Jump out on the other side,' quoth the boy, pausing, 'and get thee gone.' And the holy man made all the haste he could for shame's sake; for the thorns had almost stripped him to the skin, and covered him with blood. When he reached the house they wondered where he had been, and how he had fallen into such a sorry plight. The goodwife said: 'I see well, father, by thine array that thou hast come to some mischief. What has befallen thee?' 'I have been with thy son,' he replied. 'The devil overcome him, for no one else may!' Then entered the goodman, and his wife said unto him: 'Here is a pretty matter! Thy dear son hath well-nigh slain this holy friar. Alack! Alack!' The goodman said: 'Benedicite! what hath the boy been doing to thee, friar?' 'He made me dance willy-willy among the briars, and, by Our Lady, the pipe went so merrily that I might have danced till I burst myself.' 'Hadst thou met with thy death so, father,' said the goodman,' it had been a great sin.' At night, at the usual hour, the boy came back, and his father called him unto him, and questioned him about the friar. 'Father,' said Jack, ' I did nought, I tell thee, but play him a tune.' 'Well,' answered the goodman, 'let me hear this pipe myself.' 'Heaven forbid!' cried the friar, wringing his hands. 'Yea,' quoth the goodman, 'give us some music, Jack.' 'If,' entreated the friar piteously, 'thou wilt indeed have him play, first bind me to some post. If I hear that pipe I must fain dance, and then my life is nought worth. I am a dead man.' They fastened him to a post in the centre of the hall, and they all laughed at his distress, and one said, 'The friar is out of danger of falling now.' 'Now, boy,' said the goodman, 'play on.' 'That will I do, father,' he replied, 'till you bid me hold, and I warrant ye shall have music enough.' As soon as the boy took up the pipe and laid his mouth to it, all began to dance and jump, faster and faster, and higher and higher, as though they were out of their wits. Even the friar struck his head against the post and screamed with pain. Some leapt over the table; some tumbled against the chairs; some fell in the fire. Jack passed out into the street, and they all followed him, capering wildly as they went. The neighbours started at the sound, and came out of their houses, springing over the fences; and many that had gone to rest jumped out of bed and hurried into the village, naked as they were, and joined the throng at Jack's heels. A phrenzy was upon them all, and they bounded into the air, and looked not whither they plunged; and some that could no longer keep their feet for lameness danced on all fours. The goodman said to his son: 'Jack, I trow it is best to give over.' 'Let it be so,' said the boy, and he desisted from his playing accordingly. 'This is the merriest sport,' said the goodman, 'that I have known this seven year.' 'Thou cursed boy!' exclaimed the friar, when they returned to the house, 'I summon thee before the judge. Look thou be there on Friday.' 'Good,' answered the boy; 'I will. I would with all my heart it were already come.' Friday arrived, and friar Topas and the step-dame, and the whole party, appeared, and the judge was in his place, and there was a goodly gathering of people, for there were many other cases to be heard. The friar was fain to wait till his turn came, and then he addressed the judge, saying to him: 'See, my lord, I have brought a boy to thee who hath wrought me and others many grievous trouble and sorrow. He is a necromancer such as in all this country hath not his like.' 'I hold him for a witch,' put in the goodwife, and scowled at Jack; and forthwith she set to laughing till she fell down, and none could tell what she ailed, or whence her great mirth arose. 'Woman,' said the judge, 'tell thy tale.' But she could not utter another word, though Jack stayed her laughter as he had power given to him to do so by the stranger on the hillside. Then spake Friar Topas, and said: 'My lord, this boy will worst us all unless you soundly chastise him. He hath, sir, a pipe that will make you dance and hop till you are well-nigh spent.' The judge said, 'This pipe I fain would see, and know what sort of mirth it maketh.' 'Marry! God forbid!' quoth the friar, 'till I am out of the hearing of it.' 'Play on, Jack,' said the judge,' and let me see what thou canst do.' Jack set the pipe to his lips and blew, and the whole room was quickly in motion. The judge sprang over the desk and bruised both his shins; and he shouted out to the boy to cease for God's sake and the love of the Virgin. 'Well,' said Jack, 'I will if they will promise me that they will never again do me trespass so long as I live.' Then as many as were there, the friar, the step-dame, and the rest, sware before the judge that they would keep the peace toward the boy, and help him to their power at all seasons against his enemies; and when they had done so Jack bad the judge farewell, and all proceeded merrily home. And thus it may be seen how the boy, because he was courteous and kind to the old man whom he met on the hillside while he tended his father's beasts, prospered, and kept every one in his country in his fear for evermore. For the old man was in truth a magician.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,The Gifts of the Magician,Finland,"Lang's source: Emmy Schreck, 'Die Gaben des Unholds,' Finnische Märchen (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1887), pp. 151-58 (books.google.com). Emmy Schreck, 'Die Gaben des Unholds,' Finnische Märchen (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1887), pp. 151-58 (Internet Archive). Emmy Schreck, 'Die Gaben des Unholds,' Finnische Märchen (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1887), pp. 151-58 (books.google.com). Emmy Schreck, 'Die Gaben des Unholds,' Finnische Märchen (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1887), pp. 151-58 (Internet Archive).","Source (books.google.com): Andrew Lang, The Crimson Fairy Book (London, New York, and Bombay: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1903), pp. 134-44. Source (Internet Archive): Andrew Lang, The Crimson Fairy Book (London, New York, and Bombay: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1903), pp. 134-44.","Once upon a time there was an old man who lived in a little hut in the middle of a forest. His wife was dead, and he had only one son, whom he loved dearly. Near their hut was a group of birch trees, in which some black-game had made their nests, and the youth had often begged his father's permission to shoot the birds, but the old man always strictly forbade him to do anything of the kind. One day, however, when the father had gone to a little distance to collect some sticks for the fire, the boy fetched his bow, and shot at a bird that was just flying towards its nest. But he had not taken proper aim, and the bird was only wounded, and fluttered along the ground. The boy ran to catch it, but though he ran very fast, and the bird seemed to flutter along very slowly, he never could quite come up with it; it was always just a little in advance. But so absorbed was he in the chase that he did not notice for some time that he was now deep in the forest, in a place where he had never been before. Then he felt it would be foolish to go any further, and he turned to find his way home. He thought it would be easy enough to follow the path along which he had come, but somehow it was always branching off in unexpected directions. He looked about for a house where he might stop and ask his way, but there was not a sign of one anywhere, and he was afraid to stand still, for it was cold, and there were many stories of wolves being seen in that part of the forest. Night fell, and he was beginning to start at every sound, when suddenly a magician came running towards him, with a pack of wolves snapping at his heels. Then all the boy's courage returned to him. He took his bow, and aiming an arrow at the largest wolf, shot him through the heart, and a few more arrows soon put the rest to flight. The magician was full of gratitude to his deliverer, and promised him a reward for his help if the youth would go back with him to his house. 'Indeed there is nothing that would be more welcome to me than a night's lodging,' answered the boy; 'I have been wandering all day in the forest, and did not know how to get home again.' 'Come with me, you must be hungry as well as tired,' said the magician, and led the way to his house, where the guest flung himself on a bed, and went fast asleep. But his host returned to the forest to get some food, for the larder was empty. While he was absent the housekeeper went to the boy's room and tried to wake him. She stamped on the floor, and shook him and called to him, telling him that he was in great danger, and must take flight at once. But nothing would rouse him, and if he did ever open his eyes he shut them again directly. Soon after, the magician came back from the forest, and told the housekeeper to bring them something to eat. The meal was quickly ready, and the magician called to the boy to come down and eat it, but he could not be wakened, and they had to sit down to supper without him. By and by the magician went out into the wood again for some more hunting, and on his return he tried afresh to waken the youth. But finding it quite impossible, he went back for the third time to the forest. While he was absent the boy woke up and dressed himself. Then he came downstairs and began to talk to the housekeeper. The girl had heard how he had saved her master's life, so she said nothing more about his running away, but instead told him that if the magician offered him the choice of a reward, he was to ask for the horse which stood in the third stall of the stable. By and by the old man came back and they all sat down to dinner. When they had finished the magician said: 'Now, my son, tell me what you will have as the reward of your courage?' 'Give me the horse that stands in the third stall of your stable,' answered the youth. 'For I have a long way to go before I get home, and my feet will not carry me so far.' 'Ah! my son,' replied the magician, 'it is the best horse in my stable that you want! Will not anything else please you as well?' But the youth declared that it was the horse, and the horse only, that he desired, and in the end the old man gave way. And besides the horse, the magician gave him a zither, a fiddle, and a flute, saying: 'If you are in danger, touch the zither; and if no one comes to your aid, then play on the fiddle; but if that brings no help, blow on the flute.' The youth thanked the magician, and fastening his treasures about him mounted the horse and rode off. He had already gone some miles when, to his great surprise, the horse spoke, and said: 'It is no use your returning home just now, your father will only beat you. Let us visit a few towns first, and something lucky will be sure to happen to us.' This advice pleased the boy, for he felt himself almost a man by this time, and thought it was high time he saw the world. When they entered the capital of the country everyone stopped to admire the beauty of the horse. Even the king heard of it, and came to see the splendid creature with his own eyes. Indeed, he wanted directly to buy it, and told the youth he would give any price he liked. The young man hesitated for a moment, but before he could speak, the horse contrived to whisper to him: 'Do not sell me, but ask the king to take me to his stable, and feed me there; then his other horses will become just as beautiful as I.' The king was delighted when he was told what the horse had said, and took the animal at once to the stables, and placed it in his own particular stall. Sure enough, the horse had scarcely eaten a mouthful of corn out of the manger, when the rest of the horses seemed to have undergone a transformation. Some of them were old favourites which the king had ridden in many wars, and they bore the signs of age and of service. But now they arched their heads, and pawed the ground with their slender legs as they had been wont to do in days long gone by. The king's heart beat with delight, but the old groom who had had the care of them stood crossly by, and eyed the owner of this wonderful creature with hate and envy. Not a day passed without his bringing some story against the youth to his master, but the king understood all about the matter and paid no attention. At last the groom declared that the young man had boasted that he could find the king's war horse which had strayed into the forest several years ago, and had not been heard of since. Now the king had never ceased to mourn for his horse, so this time he listened to the tale which the groom had invented, and sent for the youth. 'Find me my horse in three days,' said he, 'or it will be the worse for you.' The youth was thunderstruck at this command, but he only bowed, and went off at once to the stable. 'Do not worry yourself,' answered his own horse. 'Ask the king to give you a hundred oxen, and to let them be killed and cut into small pieces. Then we will start on our journey, and ride till we reach a certain river. There a horse will come up to you, but take no notice of him. Soon another will appear, and this also you must leave alone, but when the third horse shows itself, throw my bridle over it.' Everything happened just as the horse had said, and the third horse was safely bridled. Then the other horse spoke again: 'The magician's raven will try to eat us as we ride away, but throw it some of the oxen's flesh, and then I will gallop like the wind, and carry you safe out of the dragon's clutches.' So the young man did as he was told, and brought the horse back to the king. The old stableman was very jealous, when he heard of it, and wondered what he could do to injure the youth in the eyes of his royal master. At last he hit upon a plan, and told the king that the young man had boasted that he could bring home the king's wife, who had vanished many months before, without leaving a trace behind her. Then the king bade the young man come into his presence, and desired him to fetch the queen home again, as he had boasted he could do. And if he failed, his head would pay the penalty. The poor youth's heart stood still as he listened. Find the queen? But how was he to do that, when nobody in the palace had been able to do so! Slowly he walked to the stable, and laying his head on his horse's shoulder, he said: 'The king has ordered me to bring his wife home again, and how can I do that when she disappeared so long ago, and no one can tell me anything about her?' 'Cheer up!' answered the horse, 'we will manage to find her. You have only got to ride me back to the same river that we went to yesterday, and I will plunge into it and take my proper shape again. For I am the king's wife, who was turned into a horse by the magician from whom you saved me.' Joyfully the young man sprang into the saddle and rode away to the banks of the river. Then he threw himself off, and waited while the horse plunged in. The moment it dipped its head into t he water its black skin vanished, and the most beautiful woman in the world was floating on the water. She came smiling towards the youth, and held out her hand, and he took it and led her back to the palace. Great was the king's surprise and happiness when he beheld his lost wife stand before him, and in gratitude to her rescuer, he loaded him with gifts. You would have thought that after this the poor youth would have been left in peace; but no, his enemy the stableman hated him as much as ever, and laid a new plot for his undoing. This time he presented himself before the king and told him that the youth was so puffed up with what he had done that he had declared he would seize the king's throne for himself. At this news the king waxed so furious that he ordered a gallows to be erected at once, and the young man to be hanged without a trial. He was not even allowed to speak in his own defense, but on the very steps of the gallows he sent a message to the king and begged, as a last favour, that he might play a tune on his zither. Leave was given him, and taking the instrument from under his cloak he touched the strings. Scarcely had the first notes sounded than the hangman and his helper began to dance, and the louder grew the music, the higher they capered, till at last they cried for mercy. But the youth paid no heed, and the tunes rang out more merrily than before, and by the time the sun set they both sank on the ground exhausted, and declared that the hanging must be put off till tomorrow. The story of the zither soon spread through the town, and on the following morning the king and his whole court and a large crowd of people were gathered at the foot of the gallows to see the youth hanged. Once more he asked a favour -- permission to play on his fiddle, and this the king was graciously pleased to grant. But with the first notes, the leg of every man in the crowd was lifted high, and they danced to the sound of the music the whole day till darkness fell, and there was no light to hang the musician by. The third day came, and the youth asked leave to play on his flute. 'No, no,' said the king, 'you made me dance all day yesterday, and if I do it again it will certainly be my death. You shall play no more tunes. Quick! the rope round his neck.' At these words the young man looked so sorrowful that the courtiers said to the king: 'He is very young to die. Let him play a tune if it will make him happy.' So, very unwillingly, the king gave him leave; but first he had himself bound to a big fir tree, for fear that he should be made to dance. When he was made fast, the young man began to blow softly on his flute, and bound though he was, the king's body moved to the sound, up and down the fir tree till his clothes were in tatters, and the skin nearly rubbed off his back. But the youth had no pity, and went on blowing, till suddenly the old magician appeared and asked: 'What danger are you in, my son, that you have sent for me?' 'They want to hang me,' answered the young man; 'the gallows are all ready and the hangman is only waiting for me to stop playing.' 'Oh, I will put that right,' said the magician; and taking the gallows, he tore it up and flung it into the air, and no one knows where it came down. 'Who has ordered you to be hanged?' asked he. The young man pointed to the king, who was still bound to the fir; and without wasting words the magician took hold of the tree also, and with a mighty heave both fir and man went spinning through the air, and vanished in the clouds after the gallows. Then the youth was declared to be free, and the people elected him for their king; and the stable helper drowned himself from envy, for, after all, if it had not been for him the young man would have remained poor all the days of his life. Lang's source:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,The Golden Harp,Wales,NA,"Source (books.google.com): William Elliot Griffis, Welsh Fairy Tales (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1921), no. 6, pp. 39-46. Source (Internet Archive): William Elliot Griffis, Welsh Fairy Tales (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1921), no. 6, pp. 39-46.","Morgan is one of the oldest names in Cymric land. It means one who lives near the sea. Every day, for centuries past, tens of thousands of Welsh folks have looked out on the great blue plain of salt water. It is just as true, also, that there are all sorts of Morgans. One of these named Taffy, was like nearly all Welshmen, in that he was very fond of singing. The trouble in his case, however, was that no one but himself loved to hear his voice, which was very disagreeable. Yet of the sounds which he himself made with voice or instrument, he was an intense admirer. Nobody could persuade him that his music was poor and his voice rough. He always refused to improve. Now in Wales, the bard, or poet, who makes up his poetry or song as he goes along, is a very important person, and it is not well to offend one of these gentlemen. In French, they call such a person by a very long name -- the improvisator. These poets have sharp tongues and often say hard things about people whom they do not like. If they used whetstones, or stropped their tongues on leather, as men do their razors, to give them a keener edge, their words could not cut more terribly. Now, on one occasion, Morgan had offended one of these bards. It was while the poetic gentleman was passing by Taffy's house. He heard the jolly fellow inside singing, first at the top and then at the bottom of the scale. He would drop his voice down on the low notes and then again rise to the highest until it ended in a screech. Someone on the street asked the poet how he liked the music which he had heard inside. 'Music?' replied the bard with a sneer. 'Is that what Morgan is trying? Why! I thought it was first the lowing of an aged cow, and then the yelping of a blind dog, unable to find its way. Do you call that music?' The truth was that when the soloist had so filled himself with strong ale that his brain was fuddled, then it was hard to tell just what kind of a noise he was making. It took a wise man to discover the tune, if there was any. One evening, when Morgan thought his singing unusually fine, and felt sorry that no one heard him, he heard a knock. Instead of going to the door to inquire, or welcome the visitor, he yelled out 'Come in!' The door opened and there stood three tired looking strangers. They appeared to be travelers. One of them said: 'Kind sir, we are weary and worn, and would be glad of a morsel of bread. If you can give us a little food, we shall not trouble you further.' 'Is that all?' said Morgan. 'See there the loaf and the cheese, with a knife beside them. Take what you want, and fill your bags. No man shall ever say that Taffy Morgan denied anyone food, when he had any himself.' Whereupon the three travelers sat down and began to eat. Meanwhile, without being invited to do so, their host began to sing for them. Now the three travelers were fairies in disguise. They were journeying over the country, from cottage to cottage, visiting the people. They came to reward all who gave them a welcome and were kind to them, but to vex and play tricks upon those who were stingy, bad tempered, or of sour disposition. Turning to Taffy before taking leave, one of them said: 'You have been good to us and we are grateful. Now what can we do for you? We have power to grant anything you may desire. Please tell us what you would like most.' At this, Taffy looked hard in the faces of the three strangers, to see if one of them was the bard who had likened his voice in its ups and downs to a cow and a blind dog. Not seeing any familiar face, he plucked up his courage, and said: 'If you are not making fun of me, I'll take from you a harp. And, if I can have my wish in full, I want one that will play only lively tunes. No sad music for me!' Here Morgan stopped. Again he searched their faces, to see if they were laughing at him and then proceeded. 'And something else, if I can have it; but it's really the same thing I am asking for.' 'Speak on, we are ready to do what you wish,' answered the leader. 'I want a harp, which, no matter how badly I may play, will sound out sweet and jolly music.' 'Say no more,' said the leader, who waved his hand. There was a flood of light, and, to Morgan's amazement, there stood on the floor a golden harp. But where were the three travelers? They had disappeared in a flash. Hardly able to believe his own eyes, it now dawned upon him that his visitors were fairies. He sat down, back of the harp, and made ready to sweep the strings. He hardly knew whether or not he touched the instrument, but there rolled out volumes of lively music, as if the harp itself were mad. The tune was wild and such as would set the feet of young folks a-going, even in church. As Taffy's fingers seemed every moment to become more skillful, the livelier the music increased, until the very dishes rattled on the cupboard, as if they wanted to join in. Even the chair looked as if about to dance. Just then, Morgan's wife and some neighbors entered the house. Immediately, the whole party, one and all, began dancing in the jolliest way. For hours, they kept up the mad whirl. Yet all the while, Taffy seemed happier and the women the merrier. No telegraph ever carried the news faster, all over the region, that Morgan had a wonderful harp. All the grass in front of the house, was soon worn away by the crowds that came to hear and dance. As soon as Taffy touched the harp strings, the feet of everyone, young and old, began shuffling, nor could anyone stop, so long as Morgan played. Even very old, lame and one-legged people joined in. Several old women, whom nobody had ever prevailed upon to get out of their chairs, were cured of their rheumatism. Such unusual exercise was severe for them, but it seemed to be healthful. A shrewd monk, the business manager of the monastery near by, wanted to buy Morgan's house, set up a sanatorium and advertise it as a holy place. He hoped thus to draw pilgrims to it and get for it a great reputation as a healing place for the lame and the halt, the palsied and the rheumatic. Thus the monastery would be enriched and all the monks get fat. But Taffy was a happy-go-lucky fellow, who cared little about money and would not sell; for, with his harp, he enjoyed both fun and fame. One day, in the crowd that stood around his door waiting to begin to hop and whirl, Morgan espied the bard who had compared his voice to a cow and a cur. The bard had come to see whether the stories about the harp were true or not. He found to his own discomfort what was the fact and the reality, which were not very convenient for him. As soon as the harp music began, his feet began to go up, and his legs to kick and whirl. The more Morgan played, the madder the dance and the wilder the antics of the crowd, and in these the bard had to join, for he could not help himself. Soon they all began to spin round and round on the flagstones fronting the door, as if crazy. They broke the paling of the garden fence. They came into the house and knocked over the chairs and sofa, even when they cracked their shins against the wood. They bumped their heads against the walls and ceiling, and some even scrambled over the roof and down again. The bard could no more stop his weary legs than could the other lunatics. To Morgan his revenge was so sweet, that he kept on until the bard's legs snapped, and he fell down on top of people that had tumbled from shear weariness, because no more strength was left in them. Meanwhile, Morgan laughed until his jaws were tired and his stomach muscles ached. But no sooner did he take his fingers off the strings, to rest them, than he opened his eyes in wonder; for in a flash the harp had disappeared. He had made a bad use of the fairies' gift, and they were displeased. So both the monk and Morgan felt sorry. Yet the grass grew again when the quondam harper and singer ceased desolating the air with his quavers. The air seemed sweeter to breathe, because of the silence. However, the fairies kept on doing good to the people of good will, and today some of the sweetest singers in Wales come from the poorest homes.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,The Jew in the Thorns,Germany,"Translator's note: A heller is a small copper coin. The word can be translated with farthing or penny. The Grimms' knew at least four versions of this tale: Albrecht Dietrich, Historia von einem Bawrenknecht (1618, originally written as a rhymed theater piece in 1599). Jakob Ayrer, Fritz Dölla mit seiner gewünschten Geigen (1620). An oral version from Hessen. An oral version from the von Haxthausen family. Albrecht Dietrich, Historia von einem Bawrenknecht (1618, originally written as a rhymed theater piece in 1599). Jakob Ayrer, Fritz Dölla mit seiner gewünschten Geigen (1620). An oral version from Hessen. An oral version from the von Haxthausen family. Link to additional Anti-Semitic Legends.","Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Jude im Dorn,'Kinder und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 110, pp. 121-25. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Jude im Dorn,'Kinder und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 110, pp. 121-25.","Once upon a time there was a rich man who had a servant who served him diligently and honestly. Every morning he was the first one out of bed, and at night the last one to go to bed. Whenever there was a difficult job that nobody wanted to do, he was always the first to volunteer. He never complained at any of this, but was contented with everything and always happy. When his year was over, his master gave him no wages, thinking, 'That is the smartest thing to do, for it will save me something. He won't leave me, but will gladly stay here working for me.' The servant said nothing, but did his work the second year as he had done before, and when at the end of this year he again received no wages, he still stayed on without complaining. When the third year had passed, the master thought it over, then put his hand into his pocket, but pulled out nothing. However, this time the servant said, 'Master, I have served you honestly for three years. Be so good as to give me what by rights I have coming to me. I would like to be on my way and see something else of the world.' 'Yes, my good servant,' answered the old miser, 'you have served me without complaint, and you shall be kindly rewarded.' With this he put his hand into his pocket, then counted out three hellers one at a time, saying, 'There, you have a heller for each year. That is a large and generous reward. Only a few masters would pay you this much.' The good servant, who understood little about money, put his wealth into his pocket, and thought, 'Ah, now that I have a full purse, why should I worry and continue to plague myself with hard work?' So he set forth, uphill and down, singing and jumping for joy. Now it came to pass that as he was passing by a thicket a little dwarf stepped out, and called to him, 'Where are you headed, Brother Merry? You don't seem to be burdened down with cares.' 'Why should I be sad?' answered the servant. 'I have everything I need. Three years' wages are jingling in my pocket. 'How much is your treasure?' the dwarf asked him. 'How much? Three hellers in real money, precisely counted.' 'Listen,' said the dwarf, 'I am a poor and needy man. Give me your three hellers. I can no longer work, but you are young and can easily earn your bread.' Now because the servant had a good heart and felt pity for the dwarf, he gave him his three hellers, saying, 'In God's name, I won't miss them.' Then the dwarf said, 'Because I see that you have a good heart I will grant you three wishes, one for each heller. They shall all be fulfilled.' 'Aha,' said the servant. 'You are a miracle worker. Well, then, if it is to be so, first of all I wish for a gun that will hit everything I aim at; second, for a fiddle, that when I play it, anyone who hears it will have to dance; and third, that whenever I ask a favor of anyone, it will be granted.' 'You shall have all that,' said the dwarf. He reached into the bush, and what do you think, there lay a fiddle and a gun, all ready, just as if they had been ordered. He gave them to the servant, saying, 'No one will ever be able to deny any request that you might make.' 'What more could my heart desire?' said the servant to himself, and went merrily on his way. Soon afterward he met a Jew with a long goatee, who was standing listening to a bird singing high up in the top of a tree. 'One of God's own miracles,' he shouted, 'that such a small creature should have such a fearfully loud voice. If only it were mine! If only someone would sprinkle some salt on its tail!' 'If that is all you want,' said the servant, 'then the bird shall soon be down here.' He took aim, hit it precisely, and the bird fell down into a thorn hedge. 'Rogue,' he said to the Jew, 'Go and fetch the bird out for yourself.' 'My goodness,' said the Jew, 'don't call me a rogue, sir, but I will be the dog and get the bird out for myself. After all, you're the one who shot it.' Then he lay down on the ground and began crawling into the thicket. When he was in the middle of the thorns, the good servant could not resist the temptation to pick up his fiddle and begin to play. The Jew's legs immediately began to move, and he jumped up. The more the servant fiddled the better went the dance. However, the thorns ripped apart the Jew's shabby coat, combed his beard, and pricked and pinched him all over his body. 'My goodness,' cried the Jew, 'what do I want with your fiddling? Stop playing, sir. I don't want to dance.' But the servant did not listen to him, and thought, 'You have fleeced people often enough, and now the thorn hedge shall do the same to you.' He began to play all over again, so that the Jew had to jump even higher, leaving scraps from his coat hanging on the thorns. 'Oh, woe is me!' cried the Jew. 'I will give the gentleman anything he asks, if only he quits fiddling, even a purse filled with gold.' 'If you are so generous,' said the servant, 'then I will stop my music. But I must praise the singular way that you dance to it.' Then he took his purse he went on his way. The Jew stood there quietly watching the servant until he was far off and out of sight, and then he screamed out with all his might, 'You miserable musician, you beer-house fiddler! Wait until I catch you alone. I will chase you until you wear the soles off your shoes. You ragamuffin, just put a groschen in your mouth, so that you will be worth six hellers.' He continued to curse as fast as he could speak. As soon as he had thus refreshed himself a little, and caught his breath again, he ran into the town to the judge. 'Judge, sir,' he said, 'Oh, woe is me! See how a godless man has robbed me and abused me on the open road. A stone on the ground would feel sorry for me. My clothes are ripped into shreds. My body is pricked and scratched to pieces. And what little I owned has been taken away with my purse -- genuine ducats, each piece more beautiful than the others. For God's sake, let the man be thrown into prison.' The judge asked, 'Was it a soldier who cut you up like that with his saber?' 'God forbid,' said the Jew. 'He didn't have a naked dagger, but rather a gun hanging from his back, and a fiddle from his neck. The scoundrel can easily be recognized.' The judge sent his people out after him. They found the good servant, who had been walking along quite slowly. And they found the purse with the money on him as well. When he was brought before the judge he said, 'I did not touch the Jew, nor take his money. He offered it to me freely, so that I would stop fiddling, because he could not stand my music.' 'God forbid!' cried the Jew. 'He is reaching for lies like flies on the wall.' The judge did not believe his story, and said, 'That is a poor excuse. No Jew would do that.' And because he had committed robbery on the open road, the good servant was sentenced to the gallows. As he was being led away, the Jew screamed after him, 'You good-for-nothing. You dog of a musician. Now you will receive your well earned reward.' The servant walked quietly up the ladder with the hangman, but on the last rung he turned around and said to the judge, 'Grant me just one request before I die.' 'Yes,' said the judge, 'if you do not ask for your life.' 'I do not ask for life,' answered the servant, 'but let me play my fiddle one last time.' The Jew cried out miserably, 'For God's sake, do not allow it! Do not allow it!' But the judge said, 'Why should I not grant him this short pleasure? It has been promised to him, and he shall have it.' In any event, he could not have refused because of the gift that had been bestowed on the servant. The Jew cried, 'Oh, woe is me! Tie me up. Tie me up tightly.' The good servant took his fiddle from his neck, and made ready. As he played the first stroke, they all began to quiver and shake: the judge, the clerks, and the court officials. The rope fell out of the hand of the one who was going to tie up the Jew. At the second stroke they all lifted their legs. The hangman released the good servant and made ready to dance. At the third stroke everyone jumped up and began to dance. The judge and the Jew were out in front and were the best at jumping. Soon everyone who had gathered in the marketplace out of curiosity was dancing with them, old and young, fat and thin, all together with each other. Even the dogs that had run along with the crowd stood up on their hind legs and hopped along as well. The longer he played, the higher the dancers jumped, until they were knocking their heads together and crying out terribly. Finally the judge, quite out of breath, shouted, 'I will give you your life, but just stop fiddling.' The good servant listened to this, then took his fiddle, hung it around his neck again, and climbed down the ladder. He went up to the Jew, who was lying upon the ground gasping for air, and said, 'You rogue, now confess where you got the money, or I will take my fiddle off my neck and begin to play again.' 'I stole it. I stole it,' he cried. 'But you have honestly earned it.' With that the judge had the Jew led to the gallows and hanged as a thief. The Grimms' knew at least four versions of this tale:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
592,They Dance to the Pipe,Austria,"Links to the original German: books.google.com: Theodor Vernaleken, 'Sie tanzen nach der Pfeife,' Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen. Treu nach mündlicher Überlieferung (Wien: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), >no. 58, pp. 327-30. Internet Archive: Theodor Vernaleken, 'Sie tanzen nach der Pfeife,' Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen. Treu nach mündlicher Überlieferung (Wien: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), >no. 58, pp. 327-30. books.google.com: Theodor Vernaleken, 'Sie tanzen nach der Pfeife,' Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen. Treu nach mündlicher Überlieferung (Wien: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), >no. 58, pp. 327-30. Internet Archive: Theodor Vernaleken, 'Sie tanzen nach der Pfeife,' Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen. Treu nach mündlicher Überlieferung (Wien: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), >no. 58, pp. 327-30. Vernaleken's source: 'From Haugsdorf in Lower Austria.'","Source (books.google.com): Theodor Vernaleken, In the Land of Marvels: Folk-Tales from Austria and Bohemia (London: Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1889), pp. 331-34. Source (Internet Archive): Theodor Vernaleken, In the Land of Marvels: Folk-Tales from Austria and Bohemia (London: Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1889), pp. 331-34.","Once there lived a couple who had three sons. Two of them passed for the handsomest fellows of the place; but they played every kind of trick on their brother, who was a hunchback. At first the latter took no notice, but the brothers carried their tormenting so far that at last he was compelled to go away from home. The hunchback went sorrowfully on, and wandered the whole day through the mountains. Towards evening he was so weary that he swooned away, and lay on the roadside. On awakening he saw a little man two feet high standing by him, and on the point of pouring a yellow liquid into, his mouth from a bottle. The hunchback looked about him, and saw to his surprise that he was in a cavern, lighted by a faint light. The dwarf spoke to him, and asked whether he was hungry. 'O yes,' he said, and the dwarf led him into another room, where stood a covered table. 'Of these dishes, said the dwarf, 'partake as much as thou wilt; and when thou hast eaten enough, lie down in yonder bed and sleep till I wake thee.' The hunchback did as the dwarf bade him, and soon forgot all his troubles in a sound sleep. Next morning the dwarf awoke him, and after breakfasting they went out of the cave through a long passage lighted here and there by a feeble oil lamp. For two hours they wandered, when suddenly through a door they came into the open. Here the dwarf held out his hand to the hunchback, and said, 'Thou seest here a place quite strange to thee, but fear not, and travel on this road. As a keepsake from me take this little pipe. It has the property of making every one who hears it dance, and that as long as thou pipest.' The dwarf vanished, and the hunchback went on his way. Presently a shepherd met him, and he thought he would try the power of the pipe upon him. He took it in his hand and piped, whereupon the shepherd instantly began to dance. Even the sheep leaped joyously around in a circle. Then be came into a forest, where night surprised him. He got under an elder-bush, and was going to lie down and sleep, when he heard a noise hard by, growing louder every moment. At first he was alarmed, but soon he glided nearer to the spot. Concealed by a drooping branch he observed a number of robbers, who were dividing their booty, consisting of many gold pieces. The glittering gold attracted him, and he bethought him how he could get hold of it. His pipe occurred to him. Quickly he took it in his hand, and blew hard into it. Instantly the robbers got up and danced until they fell down. Then the hunchback came out, took the money and ran away. In the course of a few hours it became brighter, and he arrived at a place where the people seemed to be very sad. He asked the cause, and learned that the landlord, who had been so good to the people, was going to sell his property, and move to another place. The hunchback went to the proprietor, purchased his property, and be came lord of the land. He treated the tenants very kindly, only he was very fond of teasing them with his pipe. One day there came two beggars, who begged an alms from him. He looked more closely at them, and recognized his two brothers. He disclosed himself, and asked how it had come about that they were going round as beggars. They told him that soon after his departure a fire had broken out in the place, which consumed all their property. Their parents could not save themselves in time, and perished. And as the brothers had nothing left, they had set out, and so come to that place. Then they begged the hunchback's pardon for their behaviour to him in the past. He readily granted it, and retained them on his property. But one morning he said to his brothers, 'Dear brothers, I told you how I came into the property. I will now do you a pleasure; look upon the property as your own, and I will go forth to seek another.' At first the brothers refused, but as he would not listen to them, they let him go, and wished him much good luck on the journey. He went on, and had wandered for some months, when one day a gentleman in splendid attire joined him. They spoke of different things, and presently the gentleman showed him a box, saying that it would never be empty. 'I could use that,' said the hunchback. The gentleman promised it to him if he would bind his soul to him. But the hunchback refused, because he knew of an easier way of getting the box. He took his pipe, and piped so long that at last the devil, for such the fine gentleman really was, fell all of a heap. Then he took the box, went into a great city, and lived long, rich and respected. Links to the original German:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,"Dildrum, King of the Cats",England,NA,"John Harland and T. T. Wilkinson, Lancashire Legends, Traditions, Pageants, Sports, etc. (Manchester and London: John Heywood, 1882), pp. 12-13.","A gentleman was one evening sitting cosily in his parlor, reading or meditating, when he was interrupted by the appearance of a cat, which came down the chimney, and called out, 'Tell Dildrum, Doldrum's dead!' He was naturally startled by the occurrence; and when, shortly afterwards, his wife entered, he related to her what had happened, and their own cat, which had accompanied her, exclaimed, 'Is Doldrum dead?' and immediately rushed up the chimney, and was heard of no more. Of course there were numberless conjectures upon such a remarkable event, but the general opinion appears to be that Doldrum had been king of cat-land, and that Dildrum was the next heir.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,Hübel and Habel,Germany,"Haupt's source: Johann Georg Theodor Grässe, Sagenschatz des Königreichs Sachsen (Dresden: Verlag von G. Schönfeld's Buchhandlung, 1855), pp. 552-53.","Karl Haupt, Sagenbuch der Lausitz, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1862), p. 36.","A dwarf appeared to the owner of the Halbhufe farm near Mount Dittersberg, while he was working in his field. He asked him to tell Hübel (a female dwarf) that Habel (a male dwarf) had died. The farmer related this unusual incident at the dinner table, and even as he spoke, a small woman, previously unseen, came into view in a corner of the room. She ran crying from the room, and was never seen again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,Johnny Reed's Cat,England,NA,"[Charles John Tibbits], Folk-Lore and Legends: English (London: W. W. Gibbings, 1890), pp. 150-55.","And who was Johnny Reed? And what was there remarkable about his cat? Have you never heard tell of Johnny Reed's cat? It's an old tale they have in the north country, and it's true enough, though folk may not believe it in these days when the Bible's not gospel enough for some of them. I've heard my father often tell the story, and he came from Newcastle way, which is the very part where Johnny Reed used to live, being a parish sexton in a village not far away. Well, Johnny Reed was the sexton, as I've already said, and he and his wife kept a cat, a well enough behaved creature, sure enough, and a beast as he had no fault to set on, saving a few of the tricks which all cats play at times, and which seem born in the blood of the creatures. It was all black except one white paw, and seemed as honest and decent a beast as could be, and Tom would as soon have suspected it of being any more than it really seemed to be as he would one of his own children themselves, like many other folk, perhaps, who, may be, have cats of the same kind, little thinking it. Well, the cat had been with him some years when a strange thing occurred. One night Johnny was going home late from the churchyard, where he had been digging a grave for a person who had died on a sudden, throwing the grave on Johnny's hands unexpectedly, so that he had to stop working at it by the light of a lantern to have it ready for the next day's burying. Well, having finished his work, and having put his tools in the shed in a corner of the yard, and having locked them up safe, he began to walk home pretty brisk, thinking would his wife be up and have a bit of fire for him, for the night was cold, a keen wind blowing over the fields. He hadn't gone far before he comes to a gate at the roadside, and there seemed to be a strange shadow about it, in which Johnny saw, as it might be, a lot of little gleaming fires dancing about, while some stood steady, just like flashes of light from little windows in buildings all on fire inside. Says Johnny to himself, for he was not a man to be easily frightened, being accustomed by his calling to face things which might upset other folk, ''Hullo! What's here? Here's a thing I never saw before.' And with that he walks straight up to the gate, while the shadow got deeper and the fires brighter the nearer he came to it. Well, when he came right up to the gate he finds that the shadow was just none at all, but nine black cats, some sitting and some dancing about, and the lights were the flashes from their eyes. When he came nearer he thought to scare them off, and he calls out, 'Sh -- sh -- sh,' but never a cat stirs for all of it. 'I'll soon scatter you, you ugly varmin,' says Johnny, looking about him for a stone, which was not to be found, the night being dark and preventing him seeing one. Just then he hears a voice calling, ''Johnny Reed!' 'Hullo!' says he, 'Who's that wants me?' 'Johnny Reed,' says the voice again. 'Well,' says Johnny, 'I'm here,' and looking round and seeing no one, for no one was about 'tis true. 'Was it one of you,' says he, joking like, to the cats, 'as was calling me?' 'Yes, of course,' answers one of them, as plain as ever Christian spoke. 'It's me as has called you these three times.' Well, with that, you may be sure, Johnny begins to feel curious, for 'twas the first time he had ever been spoken to by a cat, and he didn't know what it might lead to exactly. So he takes off his hat to the cat, thinking that it was, perhaps, best to show it respect, and, seeing that he was unable to guess with whom he was dealing, hoping to come off all the better for a little civility. 'Well, sir,' says he, 'what can I do for you?' 'It's not much as I want with you,' says the cat, 'but it's better it'll be with you if you do what I tell you. Tell Dan Ratcliffe that Peggy Poyson's dead.' 'I will, sir,' says Johnny, wondering at the same time how he was to do it, for who Dan Ratcliffe was he knew no more than the dead. Well, with that all the cats vanished, and Johnny, running the rest of the way home, rushes into his house, smoking hot from the fright and the distance he had to go over. 'Nan,' says he to his wife, the first words he spoke, 'who's Dan Ratcliffe?' 'Dan Ratcliffe,' says she. 'I never heard of him, and don't know there's any one such living about here.' 'No more do I,' says he, ''but I must find him wherever he is.' Then he tells his wife all about how he had met the cats, and how they had stopped him and given him the message. Well, his cat sits there in front of the fire looking as snug and comfortable as a cat could be, and nearly half asleep, but when Johnny comes to telling his wife the message the cats had given him, then it jumped up on its feet, and looks at Johnny, and says, 'What! Is Peggy Poyson dead? Then it's no time for me to be here.' And with that it springs through the door and vanishes, nor was ever seen again from that day to this. 'And did the sexton ever find Dan Ratcliffe,' I asked. Never. He searched high and low for him about, but no one could tell him of such a person, though Johnny looked long enough, thinking it might be the worse for him if he didn't do his best to please the cats. At last, however, he gave the matter up. Then, what was the meaning of the cat's message? It's hard to tell; but many folk thought, and I'm inclined to agree with them, that Dan Ratcliffe was Johnny's own cat, and no one else, looking at the way he acted, and no other of the name being known. Who Peggy Poyson was no one could tell, but likely enough it was some relative of the cat, or may be someone it was interested in, for it's little we know concerning the creatures and their ways, and with whom and what they're mixed up.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,King Pippe Is Dead!,Denmark,Link to additional stories about drinking vessels abandoned by or stolen from the underground people: Fairy Cup Legends.,"Benjamin Thorpe, Northern Mythology, Comprising the Principal Popular Traditions and Superstitions of Scandinavia, North Germany, and the Netherlands, vol. 2 (London: Edward Lumley, 1851), pp. 132-33.","Between Nordborg and Sønderborg, on the isle of Als, there is a mount called Stakkelhøi, which in former days was inhabited by a multitude of the subterranean folk, who were noted for their diligent researches in the neighboring pantries. One evening late, as a man was passing over Stakkelhoi to Hagenbierg, he heard some one in the mount exclaim, 'Now King Pippe is dead!' These words he retained in his memory. At the same time, one of the mount-people of Stakkelhøi was paying a visit at a peasant's in Hagenbierg, for the purpose of letting some of his beer flow into a silver jug that he had brought with him. The troll was just sitting cheek by jowl with the cask, when the aforesaid man entered the house and told the peasant how, as he was passing over Stakkelhøi, he heard a voice in the mount saying, 'Now King Pippe is dead!' At this the troll in a fright exclaimed, 'Is King Pippe dead?' and rushed out of the house with such haste that he forgot to take his silver jug with him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,Le Petit Colin,Guernsey,"MacCulloch's source: 'From Miss Lane and John de Garis, Esq.'","Edgar MacCulloch, Guernsey Folk Lore: A Collection of Popular Superstitions, Legendary Tales, Peculiar Customs, Proverbs, Weather Sayings, etc., of the People of that Island, edited by Edith F. Carey (London: Elliot Stock, 1903), pp. 213-14.","Fairies have sometimes been known to enter into the service of mankind, but by what motives they were actuated in so doing is not clear. A certain 'Mess' [Monsieur] Dumaresq, of 'Les Grands Moulins,' once engaged as a farm servant a boy who offered himself. No one knew whence he came, nor did he appear to have any relations. He was extremely lively, active, and attentive to his duties, but so small that he acquired and was known by no other name than that of 'P'tit Colin.' One morning as Dumaresq was returning from St. Saviour's, he was astonished, on passing the haunted hill known as 'La Roque où le Coq Chante,' to hear himself called by name. He stopped his horse and looked round, but could see no one. Thinking that his imagination must have deceived him, he began to move on, but was again arrested by the voice. A second time he stopped and looked round, but with no more success than the first. Beginning to feel alarmed, he pushed his horse forward, but was a third time stopped by the voice. He now summoned up all his courage and asked who it was that called, and what was required of him. The voice immediately answered, 'Go home directly and tell P'tit Colin that Grand Colin is dead.' Wondering what could be the meaning of this, he made the best of his way home, and, on his arrival, sent for Le Petit Colin, to whom he communicated what had befallen him. The boy replied, 'What! Is Le Grand Colin dead? Then I must leave you,' and immediately turned round to depart. 'Stop,' said Mess Dumaresq, 'I must pay you your wages.' 'Wages!' said Colin, with a laugh, 'I am far richer now than you. Goodbye.' Saying this he left the room and was never afterwards seen or heard of. This story is still related by Dumaresq's descendants.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,Mally Dixon,England,This legend is sometimes titled 'Johnny Reed! Johnny Reed!',"James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to the Nursery Rhymes of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1849), p. 51.","Stories of fairies appearing in the shape of cats are common in the North of England. Mr. Longstaffe relates that a farmer of Staindrop, in Durham, was one night crossing a bridge, when a cat jumped out, stood before him, and looking him full in the face, said: The farmer returned home, and in mickle wonder recited this awfu' stanza to his wife, when up started their black cat, saying, 'Is she?' and disappeared for ever. It was supposed she was a fairy in disguise, who thus went to attend a sister's funeral, for in the North fairies do die, and green shady spots are pointed out by the country folks as the cemeteries of the tiny people.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,Pingel Is Dead!,Germany,NA,"Benjamin Thorpe, Northern Mythology: Comprising the Principal Popular Traditions and Superstitions of Scandinavia, North Germany, and the Netherlands, vol. 3 (London: Edward Lumley, 1852), p. 37.","On his return home he related what he had heard to his wife, and had scarcely uttered the words when a little underground man came rushing out of the cellar, and crying:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,Prilling and Pralling Is Dead,Germany,Link to additional stories about drinking vessels abandoned by or stolen from the underground people: Fairy Cup Legends.,"Karl Bartsch, Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], vol. 1 (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), pp. 42-43.","The servant of Landholder Gireck (whose residence in Plau was on Elden Street where Master Mason Büttner's house now stands) was once hauling a load of manure to a field abutting Gall Mountain. He had just unloaded the manure and was about to put the sideboards back onto the wagon when he heard his name being called from the mountain, together with the words, 'When you get home say that Prilling and Pralling is dead.' Back at home, he had scarcely related this experience and repeated the words, when they heard groaning and crying coming from the house's cellar. They investigated, but found nothing but a pewter mug, of a kind that had never before been seen in Plau. The master of the house kept the mug, and when he later moved to Hamburg he took it with him. About seventy years ago someone from Plau saw it there.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,The Cat of the Carman's Stage,Ireland,NA,"Patrick Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts (London: Macmillan and Co., 1866), pp. 157-58.","A carman was leaving Bunclody one morning for Dublin, when what should he see but a neighbor's cat galloping along the side of the road, and crying out every moment, 'Tell Moll Browne, Tom Dunne is dead. Tell Moll Browne, Tom Dunne is dead.' At last he got tired of this ditty, and took up a stone and flung it at the cat, bidding himself, and Tom Browne, and Moll Dunne, to go to Halifax, and not be botherin' him. When he got to Luke Byrne's in Francis Street, where all the Wicklow and Wexford carmen used to stop, he was taking a pot of beer in the taproom, and began to tell the quare thing that happened on the road. There was a comfortable-looking gray cat sitting by the fire, and the moment he mentioned what the Bunclody cat was saying, she cried out, 'That's my husband!' That's my husband!' She made only one leap out through the door, and no one ever saw her at Luke Byrne's again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,The King o' the Cats,England,Jacobs reconstructed this version using various English sources.,"Joseph Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 156-58.","One winter's evening the sexton's wife was sitting by the fireside with her big black cat, Old Tom, on the other side, both half asleep and waiting for the master to come home. They waited and they waited, but still he didn't come, till at last he came rushing in, calling out, 'Who's Tommy Tildrum?' in such a wild way that both his wife and his cat stared at him to know what was the matter. 'Why, what's the matter?' said his wife. 'And why do you want to know who Tommy Tildrum is?' 'Oh, I've had such an adventure. I was digging away at old Mr. Fordyce's grave when I suppose I must have dropped asleep, and only woke up by hearing a cat's meow.' 'Meow!' said Old Tom in answer. 'Yes, just like that! So I looked over the edge of the grave, and what do you think I saw?' 'Now, how can I tell?' said the sexton's wife. 'Why, nine black cats all like our friend Tom here, all with a white spot on their chestesses. And what do you think they were carrying? Why, a small coffin covered with a black velvet pall, and on the pall was a small coronet all of gold, and at every third step they took they cried all together, 'Meow --'' 'Meow!' said Old Tom again. 'Yes, just like that!' said the sexton. 'And as they came nearer and nearer to me I could see them more distinctly, because their eyes shone out with a sort of green light. Well, they all came towards me, eight of them carrying the coffin and the biggest cat of all walking in front for all the world like -- but look at our Tom, how he's looking at me. You'd think he knew all I was saying.' 'Go on, go on,' said his wife. 'Never mind Old Tom.' 'Well, as I was a-saying, they came towards me slowly and solemnly, and at every third step crying all together, 'Meow --'' 'Meow!' said Old Tom again. 'Yes, just like that, till they came and stood right opposite Mr. Fordyce's grave, where I was, when they all stood still and looked straight at me. I did feel queer, that I did! But look at Old Tom. He's looking at me just like they did.' 'Go on, go on,' said his wife. 'Never mind Old Tom.' 'Where was I? Oh, they all stood still looking at me, when the one that wasn't carrying the coffin came forward and, staring straight at me, said to me -- yes, I tell 'ee, said to me -- with a squeaky voice, 'Tell Tom Tildrum that Tim Toldrum's dead,' and that's why I asked you if you knew who Tom Tildrum was, for how can I tell Tom Tildrum Tim Toldrum's dead if I don't know who Tom Tildrum is?' 'Look at Old Tom! Look at Old Tom!' screamed his wife. And well he might look, for Tom was swelling, and Tom was staring, and at last Tom shrieked out, 'What -- old Tim dead! Then I'm the King o' the Cats!' and rushed up the chimney and was never more seen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,The King of the Cats (Kingcat),Scotland,"Note in original: References to parallel stories in Shropshire Folk-Lore, p. 52, note.","Charlotte S. Burne, 'Two Folk-Tales from Herefordshire,' Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 2, part 1 (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1884), pp. 22-23.","A most important personage in feline history is the King of the Cats. He may be in your house a common looking fellow enough, with no distinguishing mark of exalted rank about him, so that it is very difficult to verify his genuine claims to royalty. Therefore the best way is to cut off a tiny little bit of his ear. If he is really the royal personage, he will immediately speak out and declare who he is ; and perhaps, at the same time, tell you some very disagreeable truths about yourself, not at all pleasant to have discussed by the house cat. A man once, in a fit of passion, cut off the head of the domestic pussy, and threw it on the fire. On which the head exclaimed, in a fierce voice, 'Go tell your wife that you have cut off the head of the King of the Cats; but wait! I shall come back and be avenged for this insult,' and the eyes of the cat glared at him horribly from the fire. And so it happened; for that day year, while the master of the house was playing with a pet kitten, it suddenly flew at his throat and bit him so severely that he died soon after. A story is current also, that one night an old woman was sitting up very late spinning, when a knocking came to the door. 'Who is there?' she asked. No answer; but still the knocking went on. 'Who is there?' she asked a second time. No answer; and the knocking continued. 'Who is there?' she asked the third time, in a very angry passion. Then there came a small voice, 'Ah, Judy, agrah, let me in, for I am cold and hungry; open the door, Judy, agrah, and let me sit by the fire, for the night is cold out here. Judy, agrah, let me in, let me in!' The heart of Judy was touched, for she thought it was some small child that had lost its way, and she rose up from her spinning, and went and opened the door -- when in walked a large black cat with a white breast, and two white kittens after her. They all made over to the fire and began to warm and dry themselves, purring all the time very loudly; but Judy said never a word, only went on spinning. Then the black cat spoke at last, 'Judy, agrah, don't stay up so late again, for the fairies wanted to hold a council here tonight, and to have some supper, but you have prevented them; so they were very angry and determined to kill you, and only for myself and my two daughters here you would be dead by this time. So take my advice, don't interfere with the fairy hours again, for the night is theirs, and they hate to look on the face of a mortal when they are out for pleasure or business. So I ran on to tell you, and now give me a drink of milk, for I must be off.' And after the milk was finished the cat stood up, and called her daughters to come away. 'Good-night, Judy, agrah,' she said. 'You have been very civil to me, and I'll not forget it to you. Good-night, goodnight.' With that the black cat and the two kittens whisked up the chimney; but Judy looking down saw something glittering on the hearth, and taking it up she found it was a piece of silver, more than she ever could make in a month by her spinning, and she was glad in her heart, and never again sat up so late to interfere with the fairy hours, but the black cat and her daughters came no more again to the house. Many years ago, long before shooting in Scotland was a fashion as it is now, two young men spent the autumn in the very far north, living in a lodge far from other houses, with an old woman to cook for them. Her cat and their own dogs formed all the rest of the household. One afternoon the elder of the two young men said he would not go out, and the younger one went alone, to follow the path of the previous day's sport looking for missing birds, and intending to return home before the early sunset. However, he did not do so, and the elder man became very uneasy as he watched and waited in vain till long after their usual supper-time. At last the young man returned, wet and exhausted, nor did he explain his unusual lateness until, after supper, they were seated by the fire with their pipes, the dogs lying at their feet, and the old woman's black cat sitting gravely with half-shut eyes on the hearth between them. Then the young man began as follows:-- 'You must be wondering what made me so late. I have had a curious adventure to-day. I hardly know what to say about it. I went, as I told you I should, along our yesterday's route. A mountain fog came on just as I was about to turn homewards, and I completely lost my way. I wandered about for a long time, not knowing where I was, till at last I saw a light, and made for it, hoping to get help. As I came near it, it disappeared, and I found myself close to a large old oak-tree. I climbed into the branches the better to look for the light, and, behold! it was beneath me, inside the hollow trunk of the tree. I seemed to be looking down into a church, where a funeral was in the act of taking place. I heard singing, and saw a coffin, surrounded by torches, all carried by ---- But I know you won't believe me if I tell you!' His friend eagerly begged him to go on, and laid down his pipe to listen. The dogs were sleeping quietly, but the cat was sitting up apparently listening as attentively as the man, and both young men involuntarily turned their eyes towards him. 'Yes,' proceeded the absentee,' it is perfectly true. The coffin and the torches were both borne by cats, and upon the coffin were marked a crown and scepter!' He got no further; the cat started up shrieking, 'By Jove! old Peter's dead! and I'm the King o' the Cats!' rushed up the chimney and was seen no more. 1884), pp. 22-23. Folk-Lore, p. 52, note.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,The King of the Cats (Wildecat),Ireland,NA,"Lady [Jane Francesca Elgee] Wilde, Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of Ireland (Boston: Ticknor and Company, 1888), pp. 153-54.","A man once, in a fit of passion, cut off the head of the domestic pussy, and threw it on the fire. On which the head exclaimed, in a fierce voice, 'Go tell your wife that you have cut off the head of the King of the Cats; but wait! I shall come back and be avenged for this insult,' and the eyes of the cat glared at him horribly from the fire. And so it happened; for that day year, while the master of the house was playing with a pet kitten, it suddenly flew at his throat and bit him so severely that he died soon after. A story is current also, that one night an old woman was sitting up very late spinning, when a knocking came to the door. 'Who is there?' she asked. No answer; but still the knocking went on. 'Who is there?' she asked a second time. No answer; and the knocking continued. 'Who is there?' she asked the third time, in a very angry passion. Then there came a small voice, 'Ah, Judy, agrah, let me in, for I am cold and hungry; open the door, Judy, agrah, and let me sit by the fire, for the night is cold out here. Judy, agrah, let me in, let me in!' The heart of Judy was touched, for she thought it was some small child that had lost its way, and she rose up from her spinning, and went and opened the door -- when in walked a large black cat with a white breast, and two white kittens after her. They all made over to the fire and began to warm and dry themselves, purring all the time very loudly; but Judy said never a word, only went on spinning. Then the black cat spoke at last, 'Judy, agrah, don't stay up so late again, for the fairies wanted to hold a council here tonight, and to have some supper, but you have prevented them; so they were very angry and determined to kill you, and only for myself and my two daughters here you would be dead by this time. So take my advice, don't interfere with the fairy hours again, for the night is theirs, and they hate to look on the face of a mortal when they are out for pleasure or business. So I ran on to tell you, and now give me a drink of milk, for I must be off.' And after the milk was finished the cat stood up, and called her daughters to come away. 'Good-night, Judy, agrah,' she said. 'You have been very civil to me, and I'll not forget it to you. Good-night, goodnight.' With that the black cat and the two kittens whisked up the chimney; but Judy looking down saw something glittering on the hearth, and taking it up she found it was a piece of silver, more than she ever could make in a month by her spinning, and she was glad in her heart, and never again sat up so late to interfere with the fairy hours, but the black cat and her daughters came no more again to the house.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,The Troll Turned Cat,Denmark,"Keightley's source: J. M. Thiele, 'Brøndøi [Knurremurre er død!],' Danmarks Folkesagn, vol. 2 (Copenhagen: C. A. Reitzels Forlag, 1843), pp. 187-88.","Thomas Keightley, The Fairy Mythology: Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of various Countries (London: H. G. Bohn, 1850), pp. 120-21","About a quarter of a mile from Soröe lies Pedersborg, and a little farther on is the town of Lyng. Just between these towns is a hill called Bröndhöi (Spring-hill), said to be inhabited by the troll-people. There goes a story that there was once among these troll-people of Bröndhöi an old cross-grained curmudgeon of a troll, whom the rest nick-named Knurremurre (Rumble-grumble), because he was evermore the cause of noise and uproar within the hill. The Knurremurre having discovered what he thought to be too great a degree of intimacy between his young wife and a young troll of the society, took this in such ill part, that he vowed vengeance, swearing he would have the life of the young one. The latter, accordingly, thought it would be his best course to be off out of the hill till better times; so, turning himself into a noble tortoise-shell tom-cat, he one fine morning quitted his old residence, and journeyed down to the neighboring town of Lyng, where he established himself in the house of an honest poor man named Plat. Here he lived for a long time comfortable and easy, with nothing to annoy him, and was as happy as any tom-cat or troll crossed in love well could be. He got every day plenty of milk and good grout to eat, and lay the whole day long at his ease in a warm arm-chair behind the stove. Plat happened one evening to come home rather late, and as he entered the room the cat was sitting in his usual place, scraping meal-grout out of a pot, and licking the pot itself carefully. 'Harkye, dame,' said Plat, as he came in at the door, 'till I tell you what happened to me on the road. Just as I was coming past Bröndhöi, there came out a troll, and he called out to me, and said, Harkye Plat Tell your cat, That Knurremurre is dead. The moment the cat heard these words, he tumbled the pot down on the floor, sprang out of the chair, and stood up on his hind-legs. Then, as he hurried out of the door, he cried out with exultation, 'What! is Knurremurre dead? Then I may go home as fast as I please.' And so saying he scampered off to the hill, to the amazement of honest Plat; and it is likely lost no time in making his advances to the young widow.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,The Unknown Girl,Germany,NA,"Bernard Baader, Volkssagen aus dem Lande Baden und den angrenzenden Gegenden (Karlsruhe: Verlag der Herder'schen Buchhandlung, 1852), no. 26, p. 20.","A peasant in Holl had a servant girl whom no one knew. She was very industrious and well behaved, but she would not say what her name was. One day the man was carrying a yoke home from the field when the voice of an unseen person called out to him several times, 'You, the man carrying the yoke, tell Gloria that the chancellor has died.' The man did not think about this occurance until suppertime, and then he related it to the girl, adding that he now knew that her name was Gloria. The girl immediately jumped head over heels and fled. And no one has seen her since then.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
113A,Torke's Child Is Dead / Kilian's Child Is Dead,Germany,NA,"A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), pp. 162-64.","1. Near Westerhausen there are dwarf caves. Ages ago dwarfs lived there, and they were very active in the region. Once a peasant was driving from Halberstadt to Börneke, which lies about a half hour from Westerhausen. As he was approaching Mount Tekenberg, someone shouted to him, 'Wedgehead, tell Torke to come home. His child is dead!' He looked around, but peering far and wide he could not see anyone who could have called out. So he drove home, and after his arrival there, while seated at his table, it kept going around in his head that someone had shouted to him and that he had seen no one. So he said to his wife, 'Just think, as I was approaching Mount Tekenberg, someone shouted to me, Wedgehead, tell Torke to come home. His child is dead!'' He had scarcely said this when someone called out from the best room, 'Is that so? Then I must go there at once!' Then they heard something fall. They went into the room and found there a bag. It was filled with dough from their baking trough. 2. There were also many dwarfs in Mount Kuckuksberg near Westerhausen and in Mount Steinberg near Börneke. They were thick-headed people with black faces. They wore three-cornered hats. They sometimes helped humans and sometimes harmed them. When Old Fritz [Frederick the Great of Prussia] came to power, he did not want them in his country any more, and he exiled them to the other side of the Black Sea. Thus they all emigrated, and nothing more has been heard about them since then. Formerly, however, there were many stories about them. For example, once a peasant was driving past Mount Kuckuksberg when someone shouted to him, 'Leave your wagon and your horses here, and run home quickly, and tell Kilian he should come here. His child is dead!' The peasant did that. Arriving at home, he gave the message, and suddenly the bread dough fell down from above, and someone said that in the future they should make three crosses on the bread when they leave the dough overnight, and then the dwarfs would not be able to take it away. For this reason, to this very day three crosses are made on bread. und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), pp. 162-64.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
335,An Old Man That Was Willing to Put off Death,Laurentius Abstemius,Laurentius Abstemius (ca. 1440 - 1508) was an Italian writer.,"Source (Internet Archive): Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists, with Morals and Reflexions (London, 1692), no. 350, pp. 305-306.","There goes a Story that Death call'd upon an Old Man, and bad him come along with him. The Man Excus'd himself, that T'other world was a Great Journy to take upon so short a Warning, and begg'd a Little time only to make his Will before he Dy'd. Why (says Death) You have had Warning enough One would think, to have made Ready before This. In truth, says the Old Man. This is the First Time that ever I saw ye in my whole Life. That's False, says Death, for you have had Daily Examples of Mortality before Your Eyes, in People of All Sorts, Ages, and Degrees; And is not the Frequent Spectacle of Other Peoples Deaths, a Memento sufficient to make You think of Your Own? Your Dim and Hollow Eyes methinks, the Los of your Hearing, and the Faltering of the rest or your Senses, should Mind ye, without more ado, that Death has bid hold of ye already: And is This a time of day d'ye think to stand Shuffling it off still? Your Peremptory Hour, I tell ye, is now come, and there's No Thought of a Reprieve in the Case of Fate. The MORAL Want of Warning is No Excuse in the Case of Death: For Every Moment of our Lives; either Is, or Ought to he a Time of Preparation for't. REFLEXION 'Tis the Great Bus'ness of Life to fit our selves for our End; and no Man can Live Well that has not Death always in his Eye. 'Tis a Strange Mixture of Madness and Folly in One Solecism, for People to Say or Imagine that ever any Man was Taken out of This World without time to Prepare himself for Death: But the Delay of Fitting our selves is our Own Fault, and we turn the very Sin into an Excuse. Every Breath we draw is not only a Step towards Death, but a Part of it. It was Born with us, It goes along with us: It is the Only Constant Companion that we have in This World, and yet we never think of it any more then if we knew Nothing on't. The Text is True to the very Letter, that we Die Daily, and yet we Feel it not. Every thing under the Sun reads a Lecture of Mortality to us. Our Neighbours, our Friends, our Relations, that fall Every where round about us, Admonish us of our Last Hour; and yet here's an Old Man on the Wrong-side of Fourscore perhaps, Complaining that he is surpriz'd.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
335,Death's Messengers (Ashliman),Retold by D. L. Ashliman,NA,Retold from various European sources.,"'But you did not send your messengers in advance,' said the man. 'You can't take me yet.' 'Has your sight not dimmed?' asked Death. 'Is not your hair thin and gray? Your back hunched? Your arms weak? And your once long stride now a feeble shuffle?' 'That is true,' admitted the man, then started to protest anew. 'Those were my messengers,' said Death, interrupting him abruptly. 'Your failure to recognize them changes nothing. Your time has come.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
335,Death's Messengers (Grimm),Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"The Grimms' source: Hans Wilhelm Kirchhoff, Wendunmuth, (1563, edition of 1581), no. 124. The Grimms first published this tale in the fourth edition (1840) of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen.","Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die Boten des Todes,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 2, 7th edition (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 177, pp. 356-57. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die Boten des Todes,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 2, 7th edition (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 177, pp. 356-57.","'What?' said the giant. 'You, a creature that I could crush between my fingers, you want to block my way? Who are you that you dare to speak so boldly?' 'I am Death,' answered the other one. 'No one resists me, and you too must obey my orders.' But the giant refused, and began to wrestle with Death. It was a long, violent battle, and finally the giant got the upper hand, and knocked Death down with his fist, causing him to collapse by a stone. The giant went on his way, and Death lay there conquered, so weak that he could not get up again. 'What is to come of this?' he said. 'If I stay lying here in a corner, no one will die in the world, and it will become so filled with people that they won't have room to stand beside one another.' Meanwhile a young man came down the road. Vigorous and healthy, he was singing a song and looking this way and that. Seeing the half-conscious individual, he approached him with compassion, raised him up, gave him a refreshing drink from his flask, and waited until he regained his strength. 'Do you know,' asked the stranger, as he stood up, 'who I am, and whom you have helped onto his legs again?' 'No,' answered the youth, 'I do not know you.' 'I am Death,' he said. 'I spare no one, nor can I make an exception with you. However, so you may see that I am grateful, I promise you that I will not attack you without warning, but instead will send my messengers to you before I come and take you away.' 'Good,' said the youth. 'It is to my benefit that I shall know when you are coming, and that I will be safe from you until then.' Then he went on his way, and was cheerful and carefree, and lived one day at a time. However, youth and good health did not last long. Soon came sickness and pain, which tormented him by day and deprived him of his rest by night. 'I shall not die,' he said to himself, 'for Death will first send his messengers, but I do wish that these wicked days of sickness were over.' Regaining his health, he began once more to live cheerfully. Then one day someone tapped on his shoulder. He looked around, and death was standing behind him, who said, 'Follow me. The hour of your departure from this world has come.' 'What?' replied the man. 'Are you breaking your word? Did you not promise me that you would send your messengers to me before you yourself would come? I have not seen a one of them.' 'Be still!' answered Death. 'Have I not sent you one messenger after another? Did not fever come and strike you, and shake you, and throw you down? Has not dizziness numbed your head? Has not gout pinched your limbs? Did your ears not buzz? Did toothache not bite into your cheeks? Did your eyes not darken? And furthermore, has not my own brother Sleep reminded you every night of me? During the night did you not lie there as if you were already dead?' The man did not know how to answer, so he surrendered to his fate and went away with Death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
335,Death's Messengers (Wendunmuth),"Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof, Wendunmuth",The German writer Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof lived between 1525 and 1602.,"Source (books.google.com): Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof, 'Von deß Todts Botten,' Wendunmuth, edited by Herman Österley, book 1 (Tübingen: Für den Litterarischen Verein in Stuttgart, gedruckt von H. Laupp, 1869), no. 124, pp. 591-92. Source (Internet Archive): Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof, 'Von deß Todts Botten,' Wendunmuth, edited by Herman Österley, book 1 (Tübingen: Für den Litterarischen Verein in Stuttgart, gedruckt von H. Laupp, 1869), no. 124, pp. 591-92.","Death thanked the young man by promising that although God and nature dictated that all men must die, Death would not take him without giving him advanced notice. The young man, because of this promise, felt secure and proud. He ate and drank in excess and led a sinful life. With time he was plagued with any number of ailments. Then Death approached him, telling him that his hour of departure had arrived. The man did not accept this fate and accused Death of failing to keep his promise, as he had sent no messengers to forewarn him. 'Hey! Be still!' answered Death. 'Have you not received any number of messengers? Some years ago you were plagued with severe fever and soon afterward an even worse one. Now your head is dizzy; your chest suffers from coughing and wheezing; your belly aches with great pain; your arms and legs have lost their strength; your skin has become withered and wrinkly. You should have been reminded of all those things by my dear brother sleep, in whose bands you have so often lain as if you were dead. Therefore your excuses are nothing. I shall take you with me.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
335,Our Lord and the Church Father,Transylvania,Transylvania is in present-day Romania.,"Source (books.google.com): Joseph Haltrich, 'Unser Herrgott und der Kirchenvater,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen (Berlin: Verlag von Julius Springer, 1856), no. 12, pp. 62-63. Source (Internet Archive): Joseph Haltrich, 'Unser Herrgott und der Kirchenvater,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen (Berlin: Verlag von Julius Springer, 1856), no. 12, pp. 62-63.","A church father, as it happens now and again, made a gift to his church. It was a magnificent candelabra with a large wax candle. Our Lord appeared to him in the form of an old man and promised him that as thanks for this gift he would forewarn the church father three times about death before calling him from this earth. Happy about this, the church father led a merry and lavish life, eating and drinking to his heart's content. He took every advantage of the church's winecellar. Living such a life, he never thought about death. However, after a few years his body began to give in. His knees failed him. His back bent downward. He could walk only with the aid of a crutch. Not long afterward he lost his sight, and then his hearing as well. Crippled, blind, and deaf as he was, he nonetheless continued the same frivolous life as before. Finally our Lord came to take him away. The church father was surprised and angry. He complained as to why he had not been forewarned three times as promised. To this our Lord spoke with justified anger: 'What? Did I not forewarn you? Did I not at first knock on your armpits and knees causing you to walk crookedly? Did I not touch your eyes with my finger causing you to lose your sight? Did I not pull your ears causing you to lose your hearing? My promise to you has been fulfilled. Follow after me!' The church father humbly begged for forgiveness, saying that he truthfully had not understood the messages and thus had not prepared himself for death. Our Lord looked gently at the penitent church father and said: 'Just come with me. I will treat you more with mercy than with justice!' You all must take note of this: Our Lord is forewarning you as well. Be sure that when he calls for you, you are not as unprepared as was this church father.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
335,Spanish Moss,"Georgia, USA",NA,"Source (jstor): E. M. Backus, 'The Negro's Superstition of the Spanish Moss,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 25, no. 96 (April - June 1912), pp. 135-36.","Long time ago there was a powerful wicked man. He was that sinful, that Death he don't have the heart to cut him off in his sins, 'cepten' he give him a warning. So one day Death he appear to the wicked man, and he tell him how that day week he gwine come for him. The wicked man he that frightened, he get on his knees and beg Death to let him live a little longer. The wicked man he take on, and he beg, 'twell Death he promise he won't come for him 'twell he give him one more warning. Well, the years go by, but the wicked man he grow more wicked; and one day Death he appear to him again, and Death he tell the wicked man how that day week he gwine come for him; but the wicked man he more frightened than what he was before; and he get on his knees, the wicked man do, and beg Death to let him live a little longer; and Death he promise the wicked man how before he come for him he gwine send him a token what he can see or what he can hear. Well, the years go by; and the wicked man he get a powerful old man, -- he deaf and blind, and he jest drag hisself about. One day Death he done come for the wicked man once more, but the wicked man he say how Death done promise him he won't come for him twell he send him a token what he can see or hear; and Death he say he done send a token what he can see. Then the wicked man he say how he can't see no token, 'cause he say how he done blind. Then Death he say how he done send a token what he can hear. But the wicked man he say how he plum deaf, and he say how he can't hear no token; and he beg Death that hard to let him live, that Death he get plum outdone with the wicked man, and Death he jest go off and leave him to hisself. And the wicked man he jest wander about the woods, and his chillen all die, and his friends all die. Still he jest wander about the woods. He blind, and he can't see; and he deaf, and he can't hear. He that blind he can't see to find no food; and he that deaf he never know when anybody try to speak to him. And the wicked man he done perish away twell he jest a shaddow with long hair. His hair it grow longer and longer, and it blow in the wind; and still he can't die, 'cause Death he done pass him by. So he here to wander and blow about in the woods, and he perish away twell all yo can see is his powerful long hair blowing all 'bout the trees; and his hair it done blow about the trees twell it done grow fast, and now yo all folks done calls it Spanish Moss.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
335,The Old Man and the Physician,"Rumi, The Masnavi","Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, popularly known simply as Rumi, was a 13th century Persian poet and theologian.","Source (Internet Archive): Rumi, Masnavi i Ma'Navi, translated and abridged by E. H. Whinfield (London: Trübner and Company, 1887), book 2, story 13, p. 100.","An old man complained to his physician that he suffered from headache. The physician replied, 'That is caused by old age.' The old man next complained of a defect in his sight, and the physician again told him that his malady was due to old age. The old man went on to say that he suffered from pain in the back, from dyspepsia, from shortness of breath, from nervous debility, from inability to walk, and so on; and the physician replied that each of these ailments was likewise caused by old age. The old man, losing patience, said, 'Fool, know you not that God has ordained a remedy for every malady?' The physician answered, 'This passion and choler are also symptoms of old age. Since all your members are weak, you have lost the power of self-control, and fly into a passion at every word.''",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,Fitcher's Bird,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,The Grimm brothers modified this tale stylistically in succeeding editions. Link to the German text of the first edition: Fitchers Vogel (1812). Link to the German text of the final (1857) edition: Fitchers Vogel. Link to a translation of the final (1857) version of Fitcher's Bird.,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Fitchers Vogel,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed., vol. 1 (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 46, pp. 200-203.","Once upon a time there was a sorcerer who was a thief. He disguised himself as a poor man and went begging from house to house. A girl came to the door and brought him a piece of bread. He touched her, and she was forced to jump into his pack basket. Then he carried her to his house where everything was splendid, and he gave her everything that she wanted. One day he said, 'I have to take care of something away from home. I will be away for a while. Here is an egg. Take good care of it. Carry it with you at all times. And here is a key, but at the risk of your life, do not go into the room that it opens. But as soon as he had gone, she unlocked the door and went into the room. In the middle there was a large basin. In it there were dead and dismembered people. She was so terrified that she dropped the egg, which she was holding in her hand, into the basin. She quickly took it out again and wiped off the blood, but it reappeared in an instant. She could not get the egg clean, no matter how much she wiped and scrubbed. When the man returned, he asked for the egg and the key. He looked at them and knew that she had been in the blood chamber. 'You did not heed my words,' he said angrily, 'and now you are going into the chamber against your will.' With that he seized her, led her into the room, cut her up in pieces, and threw her into the basin with the others. Sometime later the man went begging again. He captured the second daughter from the house, and the same thing happened to her as to the first one. She too opened the forbidden door, dropped the egg into the blood, and was cut to pieces and thrown into the basin. Then the sorcerer wanted to have the third daughter. He captured her in his pack basket, carried her home, and at his departure gave her the egg and the key. However, the third sister was clever and sly. First of all, she put the egg in a safe place, and then she went into the secret chamber. When she saw her sisters in the basin, she found all of their parts and put each one back in its right place: head, body, arm, and leg. The parts started to move, and then they joined together, and the two sister came back to life. She took them both out of the room and hid them. When the man returned and found that the egg was free of blood, he asked her to become his bride. She said yes, but told him that first he would have to carry a basket filled with gold on his back to her parents, and that meanwhile she would be getting ready for the wedding. Then she told her sisters to get help from home. She put them into the basket and covered them over with gold. Then she said to the man, 'Carry this away. And don't you dare stop to rest. If you do, I'll be able to see through my window.' He lifted the basket onto his back and started off, but it was so heavy that the weight nearly killed him. He wanted to rest a little, but one of the girls inside the basket called out, 'I can see through my window that you are resting. Walk on at once!' He thought it was his bride calling out, so he got up and walked on. Every time he wanted to rest, he heard the call, and had to continue on. Meanwhile, back at his house, his bride dressed up a skull and placed it in the attic window. Then she invited all the sorcerer's friends to the wedding. Then she dipped herself in a barrel of honey, cut open the bed, and rolled in the feathers so that no one would be able to recognize her. In this strange disguise, she left the house and started down the path. Soon she met some of the guests, who said, 'You, Fitcher's bird, where are you coming from?' 'I'm coming from Fitcher's house.' 'And what is his young bride doing?' 'She's cleaning the house from bottom to top. Right now she is looking out of the attic window.' Then she also met the bridegroom, who was returning home. 'You, Fitcher's bird, where are you coming from?' 'And what is my young bride doing?' The bridegroom looked up, and saw the disguised skull. Thinking it was his bride, he waved to it. But after he arrived home, and all his friends were there as well, the help came that the sisters had sent. They closed up the house and set it afire, and because no one could get out, they all perished in the flames. Vogel,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed., vol. 1 (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 46, pp. 200-203. editions. Vogel (1812). Vogel.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,How the Devil Married Three Sisters,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company 1885), no. 16, pp. 78-81.","Once upon a time the devil was seized with a desire to marry. He therefore left hell, took the form of a handsome young man, and built a fine large house. When it was completed and furnished in the most fashionable style he introduced himself to a family where there were three pretty daughters, and paid his addresses to the eldest of them. The handsome man pleased the maiden, her parents were glad to see a daughter so well provided for, and it was not long before the wedding was celebrated. When he had taken his bride home, he presented her with a very tastefully arranged bouquet, led her through all the rooms of the house, and finally to a closed door. 'The whole house is at your disposal,' said he, 'only I must request one thing of you; that is, that you do not on any account open this door.' Of course the young wife promised faithfully; but equally, of course, she could scarcely wait for the moment to come when she might break her promise. When the devil had left the house the next morning, under pretence of going hunting, she ran hastily to the forbidden door, opened it, and saw a terrible abyss full of fire that shot up towards her, and singed the flowers on her bosom. When her husband came home and asked her whether she had kept her promise, she unhesitatingly said 'Yes.' But he saw by the flowers that she was telling a lie, and said, 'Now I will not put your curiosity to the test any longer. Come with me. I will show you myself what is behind the door.' Thereupon he led her to the door, opened it, gave her such a push that she fell down into hell, and shut the door again. A few months after he wooed the next sister for his wife, and won her; but with her everything that had happened with the first wife was exactly repeated. Finally he courted the third sister. She was a prudent maiden, and said to herself, 'He has certainly murdered my two sisters; but then it is a splendid match for me, so I will try and see whether I cannot be more fortunate than they.' And accordingly she consented. After the wedding the bridegroom gave her a beautiful bouquet, but forbade her, also, to open the door which he pointed out. Not a whit less curious than her sisters, she, too, opened the forbidden door when the devil had gone hunting, but she had previously put her flowers in water. Then she saw behind the door the fatal abyss and her sisters therein. 'Ah!' she exclaimed, 'poor creature that I am; I thought I had married an ordinary man, and instead of that he is the devil! How can I get away from him?' She carefully pulled her two sisters out of hell and hid them. When the devil came home he immediately looked at the bouquet, which she again wore on her bosom, and when he found the flowers so fresh he asked no questions; but reassured as to his secret, he now, for the first time, really loved her. After a few days she asked him if he would carry three chests for her to her parents' house, without putting them down or resting on the way. 'But,' she added, 'you must keep your word, for I shall be watching you.' The devil promised to do exactly as she wished. So the next morning she put one of her sisters in a chest, and laid it on her husband's shoulders. The devil, who is very strong, but also very lazy and unaccustomed to work, soon got tired of carrying the heavy chest, and wanted to rest before he was out of the street on which he lived; but his wife called out to him, 'Don't put it down; I see you!' The devil went reluctantly on with the chest until he had turned the corner, and then said to himself, 'She cannot see me here; I will rest a little.' But scarcely had he begun to put the chest down when the sister inside cried out, 'Don't put it down; I see you still!' Cursing, he dragged the chest on into another street, and was going to lay it down on a doorstep, but he again heard the voice, 'Don't lay it down, you rascal; I see you still!' 'What kind of eyes must my wife have,' he thought, 'to see around corners as well as straight ahead, and through walls as if they were made of glass!' and thus thinking he arrived, all in a perspiration and quite tired out, at the house of his mother-in-law, to whom he hastily delivered the chest, and then hurried home to strengthen himself with a good breakfast. The same thing was repeated the next day with the second chest. On the third day she herself was to be taken home in the chest. She therefore prepared a figure which she dressed in her own clothes, and placed on the balcony, under the pretext of being able to watch him better; slipped quickly into the chest, and had the maid put it on the devil's back. 'The deuce!' said he; 'this chest is a great deal heavier than the others; and today, when she is sitting on the balcony, I shall have so much the less chance to rest.' So by dint of the greatest exertions he carried it, without stopping, to his mother-in-law, and then hastened home to breakfast, scolding, and with his back almost broken. But quite contrary to custom, his wife did not come out to meet him, and there was no breakfast ready. 'Margerita, where are you?' he cried, but received no answer. As he was running through the corridors, he at length looked out of a window and saw the figure on the balcony. 'Margerita, have you gone to sleep? Come down. I am as tired as a dog, and as hungry as a wolf.' But there was no reply. 'If you do not come down instantly I will go up and bring you down,' he cried, angrily; but Margerita did not stir. Enraged, he hastened up to the balcony, and gave her such a box on the ear that her head flew off, and he saw that the head was nothing but a milliner's form, and the body, a bundle of rags. Raging, he rushed down and rummaged through the whole house, but in vain; he found only his wife's empty jewel box. 'Ha!' he cried; 'she has been stolen from me and her jewels, too!' and he immediately ran to inform her parents of the misfortune. But when he came near the house, to his great surprise he saw on the balcony above the door all three sisters, his wives, who were looking down on him with scornful laughter. Three wives at once terrified the devil so much that he took his flight with all possible speed. Since that time he has lost his taste for marrying.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,Peerifool,Scotland,"Black's and Thomas's source: 'Taken down from the recitation of an Orkney woman by Mr. D. J. Robertson. Printed in Longman's Magazine, vol. xiv. pp. 331-34.' The episode concerning Peerifool's name is a type 500 folktale, best known in the Grimm brothers' version Rumpelstiltskin. Rousay is a small island north of the mainland island of Orkney.","G. F. Black and Northcote W. Thomas, County Folk-Lore, vol. 3: Examples of Printed Folk-Lore concerning the Orkney and Shetland Islands (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by David Nutt, 1903), pp. 222-26.","There was once a king and queen in Rousay who had three daughters. The king died and the queen was living in a small house with her daughters. They kept a cow and a kale yard; they found their cabbage was all being taken away. The eldest daughter said to the queen, she would take a blanket about her and would sit and watch what was going away with the kale. So when the night came she went out to watch. In a short time a very big giant came into the yard; he began to cut the kale and throw it in a big cubby [straw basket]. So he cut till he had it well filled. The princess was always asking him why he was taking her mother's kale. He was saying to her, if she was not quiet he would take her too. As soon as he had filled his cubby he took her by a leg and an arm and threw her on the top of his cubby of kale and away home he went with her. When he got home he told her what work she had to do; she had to milk the cow and put her up to the hills called Bloodfield, and then she had to take wool, and wash and tease it and comb and card, and spin and make claith [cloth]. When the giant went out she milked the cow and put her to the hills. Then she put on the pot and made porridge to herself. As she was supping it, a great many peerie [little] yellow-headed folk came running, calling out to give them some. She said: Little for one, and less for two, And never a grain have I for you. When she came to work the wool, none of that work could she do at all. The giant came home at night and found she had not done her work. He took her and began at her head, and peeled the skin off all the way down her back and over her feet. Then he threw her on the couples [rafters] among the hens. The same adventure befell the second girl. If her sister could do little with the wool she could do less. When the giant came home he found her work not done. He began at the crown of her head and peeled a strip of skin all down her back and over her feet, and threw her on the couples beside her sister. They lay there and could not speak nor come down. The next night the youngest princess said she would take a blanket about her and go to watch what had gone away with her sisters. Ere long, in came a giant with a big cubby, and began to cut the kale. She was asking why he was taking her mother's kale. He was saying if she was not quiet he would take her too. He took her by a leg and an arm and threw her on the top of his cubby and carried her away. Next morning he gave her the same work as he had given her sisters. When he was gone out she milked the cow and put her to the high hills. Then she put on the pot and made porridge to herself. When the peerie yellow-headed folk came asking for some she told them to get something to sup with. Some got heather cows and some got broken dishes; some got one thing, and some another, and they all got some of her porridge. After they were all gone a peerie yellow-headed boy came in and asked her if she had any work to do; he could do any work with wool. She said she had plenty, but would never be able to pay him for it. He said all he was asking for it was to tell him his name. She thought that would be easy to do, and gave him the wool. When it was getting dark an old woman came in and asked her for lodging. The princess said she could not give her that, but asked her if she had any news. But the old woman had none, and went away to lie out. There is a high knowe [knoll] near the place, and the old woman sat under it for shelter. She found it very warm. She was always climbing up, and when she came to the top she heard someone inside saying, ' Tease, teasers, tease; card, carders, card; spin, spinners, spin, for Peerie Fool, Peerie Fool is my name.' There was a crack in the knowe, and light coming out. She looked in and saw a great many peerie folk working, and a peerie yellow-headed boy running round them calling out that. The old woman thought she would get lodging if she went to give this news, so she came back and told the princess the whole of it. The princess went on saying 'Peerie Fool, Peerie Fool,' till the yellow-headed boy came with all the wool made into claith. He asked what was his name, and she guessed names; and he jumped about and said, 'No.' At last she said, 'Peerie Fool is your name.' He threw down the wool and ran off very angry. As the giant was coming home he met a great many peerie yellow-headed folk, some with their eyes hanging on their cheeks, and some with their tongues hanging on their breasts. He asked them what was the matter. They told him it was working so hard pulling wool so fine. He said he had a good wife at home, and if she was safe, never would he allow her to do any work again. When he came home she was all safe, and had a great many webs lying all ready, and he was very kind to her. Next day when he went out she found her sisters, and took them down from the couples. She put the skin on their backs again, and she put her eldest sister in a cazy [basket], and put all the fine things she could find with her, and grass on the top. When the giant came home she asked him to take the cazy to her mother with some food for her cow. He was so pleased with her he would do anything for her, and took it away. Next day she did the same with her other sister. She told him she would have the last of the food she had to send her mother for the cow ready next night. She told him she was going a bit from home, and would leave it ready for him. She got into the cazy with all the fine things she could find, and covered herself with grass. He took the cazy and carried it to the queen's house. She and her daughters had a big boiler of boiling water ready. They couped [overturned] it about him when he was under the window, and that was the end of the giant. Folk-Lore, vol. 3: Examples of Printed Folk-Lore concerning the Orkney and Shetland Islands (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by David Nutt, 1903), pp. 222-26. Orkney woman by Mr. D. J. Robertson. Printed in Longman's Magazine, vol. xiv. pp. 331-34.' brothers' version Rumpelstiltskin.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,The Cobbler and His Three Daughters (Blue Beard),Basque,NA,"Wentworth Webster, Basque Legends, 2nd edition (London: Griffith and Farran, 1879), pp. 173-75.","Like many others in the world, there was a cobbler who had three daughters. They were very poor. He only earned enough just to feed his children. He did not know what would become of him. He went about in his grief, walking, walking sadly on, and he meets a gentleman, who asks him where he is going, melancholy like that. He answers him, 'Even if I shall tell you, I shall get no relief.' 'Yes, yes; who knows? Tell it.' 'I have three daughters, and I have not work enough to maintain them. I have famine in the house.' 'If it is only that, we will manage it. You will give me one of your daughters, and I will give you so much money.' The father was, very grieved to make any such bargain; but at last he comes down to that. He gives him his eldest daughter. This gentleman takes her to his palace, and, after having passed some time there, he said to her that he has a short journey to make -- that he will leave her all the keys, that she might see everything, but that there is one key that she must not make use of -- that it would bring misfortune on her. He locks the door on the young lady. This young girl goes into all the rooms, and finds them very beautiful, and she was curious to see what there was in that which was forbidden. She goes in, and sees heaps of dead bodies. Judge of her fright! With her trembling she lets the key fall upon the ground. She trembles for the coming of her husband. He arrives, and asks her if she has entered the forbidden chamber. She tells him 'Yes.' He takes her and puts her into an underground dungeon; hardly, hardly did he give her enough to eat (to live on), and that was human flesh. This cobbler had finished his money, and he was again melancholy. The gentleman meets him again, and says to him, 'Your other daughter is not happy alone; you must give me another daughter. When she is happy, I will send her back; and I will give you so much money.' The father did not like it; but he was so poor that, in order to have a little money, he gives him his daughter. The gentleman takes her home with him, like the other. After some days he said to her too, 'I must take a short journey. I will give you all the keys of the house, but do not touch such a key of such a room.' He locks the house door, and goes off, after having left her the food she needed. This young girl goes into all the rooms, and, as she was curious, she went to look into the forbidden chamber. She was so terribly frightened at the sight of so many dead bodies in this room, that she lets the key fall, and it gets stained. Our young girl was trembling as to what should become of her when the master should come back. He arrives, and the first thing he asks, 'Have you been in that room?' She told him 'Yes.' He takes her underground, like her other sister. This cobbler had finished his money, and he was in misery; when the gentleman comes to him again, and says to him, 'I will give you a great deal of money if you will let your daughter come to my house for a few days; the three will be happier together, and I will send you the two back again together.' The father believes it, and gives him his third daughter. The gentleman gives him the money, and he takes this young girl, like the others. At the end of some days he leaves her, saying that he is going to make a short journey. He gives her all the keys of the house, saying to her, 'You will go into all the rooms except this one,' pointing out the key to her. He locks the outside door, and goes off. This young girl goes straight, straight to the forbidden chamber; she opens it, and think of her horror at seeing so many dead people. She thought that he would kill her too, and, as there were all kinds of arms in this chamber, she takes a sabre with her, and hides it under her dress. She goes a little further on, and sees her two sisters almost dying with hunger, and a young man in the same condition. She takes care of them as well as she can till the gentleman comes home. On his arrival, he asks her, 'Have you been in that room?' She says, 'Yes;' and, in giving him back the keys, she lets them fall on the ground, on purpose, and at the instant that this gentleman stoops to pick them up, the young lady cuts off his head (with her sword). Oh, how glad she was! Quickly she runs to deliver her sisters and that young man, who was the son of a king. She sends for her father, the cobbler, and leaves him there with his two daughters, and the youngest daughter goes away with her young gentleman, after being married to him. If they lived well, they died well too.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,The Secret Room,"New York, USA","Gardner's source: Mrs. William Buell. Mrs. Buell heard the story from her mother, believed to be from Germany. This story is unusual in that the heroine marries her erstwhile captor. This turn illustrates a 'contamination' of a traditional animal bridegroom tale with a type 311 (How the Devil Married Three Sisters) or type 312 (Bluebeard) tale.","Emelyn E. Gardner, 'Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York,' Journal of American Folklore, vol. 27, no. 105 (July-September, 1914), pp. 310-11.","Once upon a time there lived a mother with three daughters, whose duty it was to guard the cabbage patch in front of the cottage in which they lived. One day they were all sitting in the sun, spinning, when they saw a bull in the cabbage-patch. 'Take your distaff and run, child, run!' said the mother to the eldest daughter. So the girl took her distaff and ran. The bull ran and she ran, and she ran and the bull ran, until they came to a great house standing on the edge of a wood. There the bull gave her a large bunch of keys, and told her that she could go anywhere in the house she liked except one room. He showed her the key to this room, and told her that she must not unlock the door to which it belonged. Then the bull went away and left her. The girl took the keys and roamed from one beautiful room to another, until she had seen all except the forbidden room. This she wanted to see more than she had any of the others. At last her curiosity became so great that she opened the door and went inside. What was her horror to discover that the room was full of headless bodies hung on all sides. Quickly she locked the door and ran downstairs. But she had some blood on the key, on her hand, and on her shoes. As she was trying the best she knew how to get the blood off, along came a big black cat, which said to her, 'Mew, mew, mew! Give me a dish of bread and milk, and I will tell you how to get the blood off your shoes.' 'Go away, you old black thing! I am not going to bother with you.' So the cat went away, and pretty soon the bull came. 'Let me see your keys!' said he. 'How came the blood on this one?' Then he asked to see her hands and her shoes. When he saw blood on them too, he knew that she had disobeyed him; so, as he had done with all the others who had disobeyed him, he cut her head off and hung her body up with the others in the forbidden room. The next day, when the mother and her two remaining daughters again sat spinning in the sun, they again saw the bull in the cabbage-patch. The mother sent the second daughter just as she had sent the first, and exactly the same things happened to her. The third day the mother and the youngest daughter sat spinning in the sun, when the mother looked up and saw the bull a third time in the cabbage patch. 'Take your distaff and run, child, run!' cried the mother. So the youngest daughter ran, and the bull ran. The bull ran and she ran until they came to the great house on the edge of the wood. There the bull gave her a bunch of keys, and told her that she might open every door in the house except the one whose key he showed her. Then the bull went away. The youngest daughter did just as her sisters had done, and went into all the rooms except the forbidden one. She kept wondering what could be in there, until her curiosity became so great that she unlocked the door and went in. She, too, was so horrified that she quickly shut the door and ran downstairs, but with the tell-tale blood on the key, on her hand, and on her shoes. To her came the big black cat, who said, 'Mew, mew, mew! Give me a dish of bread and milk, and I will tell you how to get the blood off your shoes.' Instead of telling the cat to go away, as her sisters had done, she went and got some bread and milk for him. When the cat had finished eating, he said, 'If you will go into the attic, you will find there a sickle. Take it, rub it on the key, on your hand, and on your shoes, while you say, 'Blood, be gone! Blood, be gone!'' The girl went to the attic, found the sickle, and did with it as the cat had told her to do, saying, 'Blood, be gone! blood, be gone!' Even as she spoke the last word, the blood-stains disappeared. Then the girl went downstairs, where she found the bull waiting for her. 'Let me see your keys,' he said, 'and your hands and your shoes!' When he saw that she had no blood-stains upon her, he suddenly changed from a bull into a beautiful prince. 'I was bewitched,' he said, 'by a girl who loved me, but whom I wouldn't marry because I didn't love her. I killed many a girl when I was a bull; but now we will have the bodies taken care of, and then we will be married.' So they buried the bodies, and then were married and lived happily ever after. New York,' Journal of American Folklore, vol. 27, no. 105 (July-September, 1914), pp. 310-11. her mother, believed to be from Germany. This story is unusual in that the heroine marries her erstwhile captor. This turn illustrates a 'contamination' of a traditional animal bridegroom tale with a type 311 (How the Devil Married Three Sisters) or type 312 (Bluebeard) tale.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,The Three Chests: The Story of the Wicked Old Man of the Sea,Finland,NA,"Parker Fillmore, Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy Tales and Folk Tales (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1922), pp. 47-65.","'Ouch! Ouch!' the farmer cried. 'Let me go!' Wetehinen only held on more tightly. 'Yes, I'll let you go,' he said, 'but only on this condition: that you give me one of your daughters for wife!' 'Give you one of my daughters? Never!' 'Very well, then I'll never let go!' wicked old Wetehinen declared and with that he began jerking at the beard as if it were a bell rope. 'Wait! Wait!' the fanner spluttered. Now he didn't want to give one of his daughters to wicked old Wetehinen -- of course not! But at the same time he was in Wetehinen's power and he realized that if he didn't do what the old reprobate demanded he might lose his life and so leave all three of his daughters orphans. Perhaps for the good of all he had better sacrifice one of them. 'All right,' he said, 'let me go and I'll send you my oldest daughter. I promise.' So Wetehinen let go his beard and the farmer scrambled to his feet and hurried home. 'My dear,' he said to his oldest daughter, 'I left a bit of the harness down at the lake. Like a good girl will you run down and get it for me.' The eldest daughter went at once and when she reached the water's edge, old Wetehinen reached up and caught her about the waist and carried her down to the bottom of the lake where he lived in a big house. At first he was kind to her. He made her mistress of the house and gave her the keys to all the rooms and closets. He went very carefully over the keys and pointing to one he said, 'That key you must never use for it opens the door to a room which I forbid you to enter.' The eldest daughter began keeping house for old Wetehinen and spent her time cooking and cleaning and spinning much as she used to at home with her father. The days went by and she grew familiar with the house and began to know what was in every room and every closet. At first she felt no temptation to open the forbidden door. If old Wetehinen wanted to have a secret room, well and good. But why in the world had he given her the key if he really didn't want her to open the door? The more she thought about it the more she wondered. Every time she passed the room she stopped a moment and stared at the door. It looked just exactly like the doors that led into all the other rooms. 'I wonder why he doesn't want me to open just that door?' she kept asking herself. Finally one day when old Wetehinen was away she thought, 'I don't believe it would matter if I opened that door just a little crack and peeped in once! No one would know the difference!' For a few moments she hesitated, then mustered up courage enough to turn the key in the forbidden lock and throw open the door. The room was a storeroom with boxes and chests and old jars piled up around the wall. That was unexciting enough, but in the middle of the floor was something that made her start when she saw what it was. It was blood -- that's what it was, a pool of dark red blood! She was about to slam the door shut when she saw something else that made her pause. This was a lovely shining ring that lay in the midst of the pool. 'Oh!' she thought to herself, 'what a beautiful ring! If I had it I'd wear it on my finger!' The longer she looked at it, the more she wanted it. 'If I'm very careful,' she said, 'I know I could reach over and pick it up without touching the blood.' She tiptoed cautiously into the room, wrapped her skirts tightly about her legs, knelt down on the floor, and stretched her arm over the pool. She picked up the ring very carefully but even so she got a few drops of blood on her fingers. 'No matter!' she thought. 'I can wash that off! And see the lovely ring!' But later, after she had the door again locked, when she tried to wash the blood off, she found she couldn't. She tried soap, she tried sand, she tried everything she could think of, but without success. 'I don't care!' she thought to herself. 'If Wetehinen sees the blood, I'll just tell him I cut my finger by accident.' So when Wetehinen came home, she hid the ring and pretended nothing was the matter. After supper Wetehinen put his head in her lap and said, 'Now, my dear, scratch my head and make me drowsy for bed.' She began scratching his head as she had many nights before but, at the first touch of her fingers, he cried out, 'Stop! You're burning my ear! There must be some blood on your fingers! Let me see!' He reached up and caught her hand and, when he saw the blood stains, he flew into a towering rage. 'I thought so! You've been in the forbidden room!' He jumped up and without allowing her time to say a word he just cut off her head then and there with no more concern than if she had been a mosquito! After that he took the body and the severed head and threw them into the forbidden room and locked the door. 'Now then,' he growled, 'she won't disobey me again!' This was all very well but now he had no one to keep house for him and cook and scratch his head in the evening and soon he decided he'd have to get another wife. He remembered that the farmer had two more daughters, so he thought to himself that now he'd marry the second sister. He waited his chance and one day when the farmer was out in his boat fishing, old Wetehinen came up from the bottom of the lake and clutched the boat. When the poor old farmer tried to row back to shore he couldn't make the boat move an inch. He worked and worked at the oars and wicked old Wetehinen let him struggle until he was exhausted. Then he put his head up out of the water and over the side of the boat and as though nothing were the matter he said, 'Hullo!' 'Oh!' the farmer cried, wishing he were safe on shore, 'it's you, is it? I wondered what was holding my boat.' 'Yes,' wicked old Wetehinen said, 'it's me and I'm going to hold your boat right here on this spot until you promise to give me another of your daughters.' What could the farmer do? He pleaded with Wetehinen but Wetehinen was firm and the upshot was that before the farmer again walked dry land he had promised Wetehinen his second daughter. Well, when he got home, he pretended he had forgotten his ax in the boat and sent his second daughter down to the lake to get it. Wicked old Wetehinen caught her as he had caught her sister and carried her home with him to his house at the bottom of the lake. Wetehinen treated the second sister just exactly as he had the first, making her mistress of the house and telling her she might use every key but one. Like her sister she, too, after a time gave way to the temptation of looking into the forbidden room and when she saw the shining ring lying in the pool of blood of course she wanted it and of course when she reached to get it she dabbled her fingers in the blood. So that was the end of her, too, for wicked old Wetehinen when he saw the blood stains just cut her head right off and threw her body and the severed head into the forbidden room beside the body and head of her sister and locked the door. Time went by and the farmer was living happily with his youngest daughter when one day while he was out chopping wood he found a pair of fine birch bark brogues. He put them on and instantly found himself, walking away from the woods and down to the lake. He tried to stop but he couldn't. He tried to walk in another direction but the brogues carried him straight down to the water's edge and out into the lake until he was in waist deep. Then he heard a gruff voice saying, 'Hullo, there! What are you doing with my brogues?' Of course it was wicked old Wetehinen who had played that trick to get the farmer into his power again. 'What do you want this time?' the poor farmer cried. 'I want your youngest daughter,' Wetehinen said. 'What! My youngest daughter!' 'Yes.' 'I won't give her up!' the farmer declared. 'I don't care what you do to me. I won't give her up!' 'Oh, very well!' Wetehinen said, and immediately the brogues which had been standing still while they talked started walking again. They carried the farmer out into the lake farther and farther until the water was up to his chin. 'Wait -- wait a minute!' he cried. The brogues stopped walking and Wetehinen said, 'Well, do you promise to give her to me?' 'No!' the farmer began. 'She's my last daughter and -- ' Before he could say more, the brogues walked on and the water rose to his nose. In desperation he threw up his hands and shouted, 'I promise! I promise!' So when he got home that day he said to his youngest daughter whose name was Lisa, 'Lisa, my dear, I forgot my brogues at the lake. Like a good girl won't you run and get them for me?' So Lisa went to the lake and Wetehinen of course caught her and carried her down to his house as he had her two sisters. Then the same old story was repeated. Wetehinen made Lisa mistress of the house and gave her keys to all the doors and closets with the same prohibition against opening the door of the forbidden room. 'If I am mistress of the house,' Lisa said to herself, 'why should I not unlock every door?' She waited until one day when Wetehinen was away from home, then went boldly to the forbidden room, fitted the key in the lock, and flung open the door. There lay her two poor sisters with their heads cut off. There in the pool of blood sparkled the lovely ring, but Lisa paid no heed to it. 'Wicked old Wetehinen!' Lisa cried. 'I suppose he thinks that ring will tempt me, but nothing will tempt me to touch that awful blood!' Then she rummaged about, opening boxes and chests, and turning things over. In a dark corner she found two pitchers, one marked Water of Life, the other Water of Death. 'Ha! This is what I want!' she cried, taking the pitcher of the Water of Life. She set the severed heads of her sisters in place and then with the magic water brought them back to life. She used up all the Water of Life, so she filled the pitcher marked Water of Life with the water from the other pitcher, the Water of Death. She hid her sisters each in a big wooden chest, she shut and locked the door of the forbidden room, and Wetehinen when he came home found her working at her spinning wheel as though nothing unusual had happened. After supper Wetehinen said, 'Now scratch my head and make me drowsy for bed.' So Lisa scratched his wicked old head and she did it so well that he grunted with satisfaction. 'Uh! Uh!' he said. 'That's good! Now just behind my right ear! That's it! That's it! You're a good girl, you are! You're not like some of them who do what they're told not to do! Now behind the other ear! Oh, that's fine! Yes, you're a good girl, and if there's anything you want me to do just tell me what it is.' 'I want to send a chest of things to my poor old father,' Lisa said. 'Just a lot of little nothings -- odds and ends that I've picked up about the house. I'd be ashamed to have you open the chest and see them. I do wish you'd carry the chest ashore tomorrow and leave it where my father will find it.' 'All right, I will,' Wetehinen promised. He was true to his word. The next morning he hoisted one of the chests on his shoulder, the one that had in it the eldest sister. He trudged off with it, and tossed it up on shore at a place where he was sure the farmer would find it. Lisa then wheedled him into carrying up the second chest that had in it the second sister. This time Wetehinen wasn't so good-natured. 'I don't know what she can always be sending her father!' he grumbled. 'If she sends another chest I'll have to look inside and see.' Now Lisa, when the second sister was safely delivered, began to plan her own escape. She pulled out another empty chest and then one evening after she had succeeded in making old Wetehinen comfortable and drowsy she begged him to carry this also to her father. He grumbled and protested but finally promised. 'And you won't look inside, will you? Promise me you won't!' Lisa begged. Wetehinen said he wouldn't, but he intended to just the same. Well, the next morning as soon as Wetehinen went out, Lisa took the churn and dressed it up in some of her own clothes. She carried it to the top of the house and perched it on the ridge of the roof before a spinning wheel. Then she herself crept inside the third chest and waited. When Wetehinen came home he looked up and saw what he thought was Lisa spinning on the roof. 'Hullo!' he shouted. 'What are you doing up there?' Lisa, in the chest, answered in a voice that sounded as if it came from the roof: 'I'm spinning. And you, Wetehinen, my dear, don't forget the chest that you promised to carry to my poor old father. It's standing in the kitchen.' Wetehinen grumbled but because of his promise he hoisted the chest on his shoulder and started off. When he had gone a little way he thought to put it down and take a peep inside. Instantly Lisa's voice, sounding as if it came from the roof, cried out, 'No! No! You promised not to look inside!' 'I'm not looking inside!' Wetehinen called back. 'I'm only resting a minute!' Then he thought to himself, 'I suppose she's sitting up there so she can watch me!' When he had gone some distance farther, he thought again to set down the chest and open the lid but instantly Lisa's voice, as from a long way off, called out: 'No! No! You promised not to look inside!' 'Who's looking inside?' he called back, pretending again he was only resting. Every time he thought it would be safe to put down the chest and open the lid, Lisa's voice cried out: 'No! No! You promised not to !' 'Mercy on us!' old Wetehinen fumed to himself, 'who would have thought she could see so far!' On the shore of the lake when he threw down the chest in disgust he tried one last time to raise the lid. Instantly Lisa's voice cried out: 'No! No! You promised not to!' 'I'm not looking inside!' Wetehinen roared, and in a fury he left the chest and started back into the water. All the way home He grumbled and growled, 'A nice way to treat a man, always making him carry chests! I won't carry another one no matter how much she begs me!' When he came neat home he saw the spinning wheel still on the roof and the figure still seated before it. 'Why haven't you got my dinner ready?' he called out angrily. The figure at the spinning wheel made no answer. 'What's the matter with you?' Wetehinen cried. 'Why are you sitting there like a wooden image instead of cooking my dinner?' Still the figure made no answer and in a rage Wetehinen began climbing up the roof. He reached out blindly and clutched at Lisa's skirt and jerked it so hard that the churn came clattering down on his head. It knocked him off the roof and he fell all the way to the ground and cracked his wicked old head wide open. 'Ouch! Ouch!' he roared in pain. 'Just wait till I get hold of that Lisa!' He crawled to the forbidden room and poured over himself the water that was in the pitcher marked Water of Life. But it wasn't the Water of Life at all, it was the Water of Death, and so it didn't help his wicked old cracked head at all. In fact it just made it worse and worse and worse. Lisa and her sisters were never again troubled by him nor was any one else that lived on the shores of that lake. 'Wonder what's become of wicked old Wetehinen?' people began saying. Lisa thought she knew but she didn't tell.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,The Three Sisters Who Were Taken into the Mountain,Norway,"Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman. Link to the text in the original Norwegian: Høna tripper i berget, Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo], 1842-1852). Note that the Norwegian title of this tale is varies between 'De tre søstre som bleve indtagne berget' and 'Høna tripper i berget.'","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), pp. 16-24.","Once upon a time there was an old widow who lived, with her three daughters, far away from the rest of the world, next to a mountain. She was so poor that her only animal was a single hen, which she prized as the apple of her eye. It was always cackling at her heels, and she was always running to look after it. One day, all at once, the hen was gone. The old woman went out, and walked around and around the cottage, looking and calling for her hen, but it was gone, and could not be found. So the woman said to her oldest daughter, 'You must just go out and see if you can find our hen, for we must have it back, even if we have to fetch it out of the mountain.' The daughter was ready enough to go, so she set off and walked up and down, and looked and called, but she could not find the hen. Suddenly, just as she was about to give up the hunt, she heard someone calling out from a cleft in the rock: Your hen is in the mountain! So she went into the cleft to see what it was, but she had barely set foot inside, when she fell through a trapdoor, deep, deep down, into an underground cavern. When she got to the bottom she went through many rooms, each finer than the one before it; but in the innermost room of all, a large ugly troll came to her and asked, 'Will you be my sweetheart?' 'No! I will not,' she said. She wouldn't have him for any price! All she wanted was to get above ground again as fast as ever she could, and to find her lost hen. Then the troll got so angry that he picked her up, twisted her head off, and then threw both the head and body into the cellar. While this was going on, her mother sat at home waiting and waiting, but no daughter came. After she had waited a bit longer, and neither heard nor saw anything of her daughter, she told her middle daughter to go out and look for her sister, and, she added, 'Give our hen a call at the same time.' So the second sister had to set off, and the very same thing happened to her. She was looking and calling, and suddenly she too heard a voice calling from from the cleft in the rock: She thought that this was strange, and went to see what it was. She too fell through the trapdoor, deep, deep down, into the cavern. She too went from room to room, and in the innermost one the troll came to her and asked if she would be his sweetheart? No, she would not. All she wanted was to get above ground again, and hunt for her lost hen. The troll got angry, and picked her up, twisted her head off, and threw both head and body into the cellar. Now, when the old woman had sat and waited seven lengths and seven breadths for her second daughter, and could neither see nor hear anything of her, she said to the youngest, 'Now, you must go out and look for your sisters. It was silly to lose the hen, but it would be sillier still to lose both your sisters. Of course, you can give the hen a call at the same time.' You see, the old woman's heart was still set on her hen. Yes, the youngest was ready to go, and she walked up and down, hunting for her sisters and calling the hen, but she could neither see nor hear anything of them. She too came to the cleft in the rock, and heard something say: She thought that this was strange, so she too went to see what it was, and she too fell through the trapdoor, deep, deep down, into a cavern. When she reached the bottom she went from one room to another, each grander than the one before it; but she wasn't at all afraid, and took time to look carefully about her. As she was peeping into this and that, she saw the trapdoor into the cellar, and looked down it, and what should she see there but her dead sisters. She barely had time to slam to the trapdoor before the troll came to her and asked, 'Will you be my 'With all my heart,' answered the girl, for she saw very well how it had gone with her sisters. When the troll heard that, he brought her the finest clothes in the world. Indeed, she had only to ask, and she got whatever she wanted, because the troll was so glad that someone would be his sweetheart. One day, after she had been there a little while, she was looking very gloomy and downcast, so the troll asked her what was the matter, and why she was so sad. 'Ah!' said the girl, 'it's because I can't get home to my mother. I know that she has very little to eat and drink, and she has no one with her.' 'Well!' said the troll, 'I can't let you go to see her; but just stuff some meat and drink into a sack, and I'll carry it to her.' With many thanks, she said that she would do that. However, she put a lot of gold and silver into the bottom of the sack, then laid a little food on top. She told the ogre the sack was ready, but that he must be sure not to look into it. He gave his word not to look inside, and set off. As the troll walked off, she peeped out at him through a chink in the trapdoor. When he had gone a little way, he said, 'This sack is very heavy. I'll just see what is inside.' He was about to untie the the sack, when the girl called out to him, 'I can still see you! I can still see you!' 'The devil you can!' said the troll; 'you must have mighty sharp eyes!' And the troll did not try to look into it again. When he reached the widow's cottage, he threw the sack in through the cottage door, saying, 'Here you have meat and drink from your daughter; she doesn't want for anything.' After the girl had been in the mountain a good bit longer, one day a billy goat fell down the trapdoor. 'Who sent for you, you long bearded beast!' said the troll, in an awful rage, and he picked up the goat, twisted his head off, and threw him into the cellar. 'Oh!' said the girl, 'why did you do that? I might have had the goat to play with down here.' 'Well!' said the troll, 'you don't need to be so down in the mouth about it. I can bring the billy goat back to life again.' So saying, he took down a flask that was hanging on the wall, put the billy goat's head on his body again, and smeared it with some ointment from flask, and he was as well and as lively as before. 'Aha!' said the girl to herself; 'that flask is worth something -- that it is.' When she had been in the mountain some time longer, on a day when the troll was away, she took her oldest sister, put her head on her shoulders, smeared her with some of the ointment from the flask, just as she had seen the troll do with the billy goat, and in an instant her sister came to life again. The girl stuffed her into a sack, laid a little food over her, and when the troll came home, she said to him, 'Dear friend! Now do go home to my mother with a morsel of food again. I'm certain that the poor thing is both hungry and thirsty, and besides that, she's all alone in the world. But you must not look into the sack.' He said that he would carry the sack, and that he would not look into it. But when he had gone a little way, he thought that the sack was getting very heavy; and when he had gone a bit further he said to himself, 'Come what will, I must see what's inside this sack, for however sharp her eyes may be, she can't see me all this way off.' But just as he was about to untie the sack, the girl inside the sack called out, 'I can still see you! I can still see you!' 'The devil you can!' said the ogre; 'then you must have mighty sharp eyes,' for he thought it was the girl inside the mountain who was speaking. So he didn't dare so much as to peep into the sack again, but carried it straight to her mother as fast as he could, and when he got to the cottage door he threw it in through the door, and cried out, 'Here you have meat and drink from your daughter; she wants for nothing.' When the girl had been in the mountain a while longer, she did the very same thing with her other sister. She put her head on her shoulders, smeared her with ointment from the flask, brought her to life, and put her into the sack. This time she crammed in also as much gold and silver as the sack would hold, laying just a little food on top. 'Dear friend,' she said to the troll, 'you really must run home to my mother with a little food again; and don't look into the sack.' Yes, the troll was eager to do as she wished, and he gave his word too that he wouldn't look into the sack; but when he had gone a little way he began to think that the sack was getting very heavy, and when he had gone a bit further, he could scarce stagger along under it, so he set it down, and was just about to untie the string and look into it, when the girl inside the sack cried out, 'I can still see you! I can still see you!' 'The devil you can,' said the troll, 'then you must have mighty sharp eyes.' Well, he did not dare to try to look into the sack, but hurried straight to the girl's mother. When he got to the cottage he threw the sack in through the door, and roared out, 'Here you have food from your daughter; she wants for nothing!' After the girl had been there a good while longer, on a day when the troll had decided to go out for the day, the girl pretended to be sick. She moaned and complained. 'There's no need for you to come home before twelve o'clock tonight,' she said, 'for I won't be able to have supper ready before then. I'm just too sick!' As soon as the troll was out of the house, she stuffed some of her clothes with straw, and stood this straw girl in the corner by the chimney, with a broom in her hand, so that it looked just as though she herself were standing there. After that she stole off home, and got a marksman to stay in the cottage with her mother. So when the clock struck twelve, or thereabouts, the troll came home, and the first thing he said to the straw girl was, 'Give me something to eat.' But she did not answer him. 'Give me something to eat, I say!' called out the troll, 'for I am almost starved.' But she did not have a word for him. 'Give me something to eat!' roared out the ogre the third time. 'I think you'd better open your ears and hear what I say, or else I'll wake you up, I will!' But the girl stood just as still as ever; so he flew into a rage, and gave her such a slap in the face, that the straw flew all about the room. When he saw that he had been tricked, he began to hunt everywhere. When he came to the cellar, and found both the girl's sisters missing, he soon figured out what had happened, and ran off to the cottage, saying, 'I'll soon pay her for this!' But when he reached the cottage, the marksman fired off his piece. The troll did not dare go into the house, for he thought it was thunder [Thor]. So he set off for home again as fast as he could run; but just as he reached the trapdoor, the sun rose and he exploded. There's a lot of gold and silver down there still, if you only knew where the trapdoor is! Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), pp. 16-24. Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo], 1842-1852). 'De tre søstre som bleve indtagne berget' and",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,The Tiger's Bride,India,"Although the heroine does not rescue previously captured sisters in this tale, it otherwise shows most characteristics of a traditional type 311 folktale.","Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 45, pp. 154-55..","One day a woman went to cut thatching grass and she cut such a quantity that when she tied it up, the bundle was too big for her to lift on to her head; so she stood and called for some one to help her, but no one was within hearing and no one came. She called and called and at last began to promise that she would give her daughter in marriage to any one who would help her. After she had called out this a few times, a tiger suddenly appeared and asked what she wanted; she explained her difficulty and the tiger undertook to lift the load on to her head, if she would really give him her daughter in marriage. She promised and with the help of the tiger took up the bundle and went home. Two or three days after, the tiger presented himself at her house and was duly married to the daughter. After the wedding the couple started for the tiger's home; all the way the unhappy bride wept und sang: 'How far off is our home, big head?' 'You can just see the mouth of the cave,' answered the tiger and in a short time they came to a large cave. Then the tiger told her to set to work and cook a feast while he went off and invited his friends to come and share it. But the bride when left alone caught a cat and killed it and hung it over the fire, so that its blood dropped slowly into the pan and made a fizzling noise, as if cooking were going on; and then she ran off to her mother's house and climbed a tree which grew near it and began to sing: You married me to a ti-ti-tiger: You threw me to a bear: Take back the necklace you gave me Take back the bracelet and the diamonds and the coral. Meanwhile the tiger returned with his friends and sat down outside the cave and told his wife to be quick with the cooking of the cakes for he heard the hissing over the fire and thought that she was cooking. At last as she did not come out, he got tired of waiting and went in to fetch her. Then he saw that she had disappeared and had to go and tell his friends. They were very angry at being cheated out of a feast, and fell upon the tiger and beat him, till he ran away and was seen no more; but his bride was left to flit from tree to tree singing:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,The Widow and Her Daughters,Scotland,"Campbell's source: 'From Mrs. MacGeachy, Farmer's Wife, Islay.' Campbell gives another version of this story on pp. 274-75.","John Francis Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands: Orally Collected, vol. 2 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1860), pp. 265-70.","There was formerly a poor widow, and she had three daughters, and all she had to feed them was a kailyard. There was a great gray horse who was coming every day to the yard to eat the kail. Said the eldest of the daughters to her mother, 'I will go to the yard today, and I will take the spinning-wheel with me, and I will keep the horse out of the kail.' 'Do,' said her mother. She went out. The horse came; she took the distaff from the wheel and she struck him. The distaff stuck to the horse, and her hand stuck to the distaff. Away went the horse till they reached a green hill, and he called out, 'Open, open, oh green hill, and let in the king's son; open, open, oh green hill, and let in the widow's daughter.' The hill opened, and they went in. He warmed water for her feet, and made a soft bed for her limbs, and she lay down that night. Early on the morrow, when he rose, he was going to hunt. He gave her the keys of the whole house, and he said to her that she might open every chamber inside but the one. 'By all she ever saw not to open that one.' That she should have his dinner ready when he should come back, and that if she would be a good woman that he would marry her. When he went away she began to open the chambers. Every one, as she opened it, was getting finer and finer, till she came to the one that was forbidden. It seemed to her, 'What might be in it that she might not open it too.' She opened it, and it was full of dead gentlewomen, and she went down to the knee in blood. Then she came out, and she was cleaning her foot; and though she were cleaning it, still she could not take a bit of the blood off it. A tiny cat came where she was, and she said to her, 'If she would give a little drop of milk that she would clean her foot as well as it was before. 'Thou! Ugly beast! Be off before thee. Dost thou suppose that I won't clean them better than thou?' 'Yes, yes, take thine own way. Thou wilt see what will happen to thee when himself comes home.' He came home, and she set the dinner on the board, and they sat down at it. Before they ate a bit he said to her, 'Wert thou a good woman today?' 'I was,' said she. 'Let me see thy foot, and I will tell thee whether thou wert or wert not.' She let him see the one that was clean. 'Let me see the other one,' said he. When he saw the blood, 'Oh! ho!' said he. He rose and took the axe and took her head off, and he threw her into the chamber with the other dead people. He laid down that night, and early on the morrow he went to the widow's yard again. Said the second one of the widow's daughters to her mother, 'I will go out today, and I will keep the gray horse out of the yard.' She went out sewing. She struck the thing she was sewing on the horse. The cloth stuck to the horse, and her hand stuck to the cloth. They reached the hill. He called as usual to the hill; the hill opened, and they went in. He warmed water for her feet, and made a soft bed for her limbs, and they lay down that night. Early in the morning he was going to hunt, and he said to her that she should open every chamber inside but one, and 'by all she ever saw' not to open that one. She opened every chamber till she came to the little one, and because she thought, 'What might be in that one more than the rest that she might not open it?' She opened it, and it was full of dead gentlewomen, and her own sister amongst them. She went down to the knee in blood. She came out, and she was cleaning herself, and the little cat came round about, and she said to her, 'If thou wilt give me a tiny drop of milk I will clean thy foot as well as it over was.' ' Thou! Ugly beast! Begone. Dost thou think that I will not clean it myself better than thou?' 'Thou wilt see,' said the cat, 'what will happen to thee when himself comes home.' When he came she set down the dinner, and they sat at it. Said he, 'Wert thou a good woman today?' She let him see the foot that was clean. ' Let me see the other one,' said he. She let him see it. 'Oh! ho!' said he, and he took the axe and took her head off. He lay down that night. Early on the morrow, said the youngest one to her mother, as she wove a stocking, 'I will go out with my stocking today, and I will watch the gray horse. I will see what happened to my two sisters, and I will return to tell you.' 'Do,' said her mother, 'and see thou dost not stay away.' She went out, and the horse came. She struck the stocking on the horse. The stocking stuck to the horse, and the band stuck to the stocking. They went away, and they reached the green hill. He called out as usual, and they got in. He warmed water for her feet, and made a soft bed for her limbs, and they lay down that night. On the morrow he was going to hunt, and he said to her, 'If she would behave herself as a good woman till he returned, that they would be married in a few days.' He gave her the keys, and he said to her that she might open every chamber that was within but that little one, 'but see that she should not open that one.' She opened every one, and when she came to this one, because she thought, 'what might be in it that she might not open it more than the rest?' She opened it, and she saw her two sisters there dead, and she went down to the two knees in blood. She came out, and she was cleaning her feet, and she could not take a bit of the blood off them. The tiny cat came where she was, and she said to her, 'Give me a tiny drop of milk, and I will clean thy feet as well as they were before.' 'I will give it, thou creature; I will give thee thy desire of milk if thou will clean my feet' The cat licked her feet as well as they were before. Then the king came home, and they set down his dinner, and they sat at it Before they ate a bit, he said, to her, 'Wert thou a good woman today?' 'I was middling,' said she; I have no boasting to make of myself.' 'Let me see thy feet,' said he. She let him see her feet. 'Thou wert a good woman,' said he; 'and if thou holdest on thus till the end of a few days, thyself and I will be married.' On the morrow he went away to hunt. When he went away the little cat came where she was. 'Now, I will tell thee in what way thou wilt be quickest married to him,' said the cat. 'There are,' said she, 'a lot of old chests within. Thou shall take out three of them; thou shalt clean them. Thou shalt say to him next night, that he must leave these three chests, one about of them, in thy mother's house, as they are of no use here; that there are plenty here without them; thou shalt say to him that he must not open any of them on the road, or else, if he opens, that thou wilt leave him; that thou wilt go up into a tree top, and that thou wilt be looking, and that if he opens any of them that thou wilt see. Then when he goes hunting, thou shalt open the chamber, thou shalt bring out thy two sisters; thou shalt draw on them the magic club, and they will be as lively and whole as they were before; thou shalt clean them then, and thou shall put one in each chest of them, and thou shalt go thyself into the third one. Thou shalt put of silver and of gold, as much in the chests as will keep thy mother and thy sisters right for their lives. When he leaves the chests in thy mother's house, and when he returns he will fly in a wild rage; he will then go to thy mother's house in this fury, and he will break in the door; be thou behind the door, and take off his head with the bar; and then he will be a king's son, as precious as he was before, and he will marry thee. Say to thy sisters, if he attempts the chests to open them by the way, to call out, 'I see thee, I see thee,' and that he will think that thou wilt be calling out in the tree.' When he came home he went away with the chests, one after one, till he left them in her mother's house. When he came to a glen, where he thought she in the tree could not see him, he began to let the chest down to see what was in it; she that was in the chest called out, 'I see thee, I see thee!' ' Good luck be on thy pretty little head,' said he, ' if thou canst not see a long way!' This was the way with him each journey, till he left the chests altogether in her mother's house. When he returned home on the last journey, and saw that she was not before him, he flew in a wild rage; he went back to the widow's house, and when he reached the door he drove it in before him. She was standing behind the door, and she took his head off with the bar. Then he grew a king's son, as precious as ever came; there he was within, and they were in great gladness. She and himself married, and they left with her mother and sisters, of gold and silver, as much as left them well for life.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
311,Zerendac,Palestine,Hanauer does not give this story a title.,"J. E. Hanauer, Folk-Lore of the Holy Land: Moslem, Christian, and Jewish (London: Duckworth and Company, 1907), pp. 221-28.","When the woodcutter went home at dusk, he boasted of the bargain to his wife, and next morning, took the girl to a certain cave and there gave her over to the stranger, who said that his name was Abu Freywar. As soon as the woodman was gone, Abu Freywar said to her, 'You must be hungry, eat these.' So saying, he took a knife and cut off both his ears, which he gave to her together with a nasty-looking loaf of black bread. The girl refusing such food, he hung her up by the hair from the ceiling of a chamber in the cave, which had meanwhile become a magnificent palace. Next day, Abu Freywar went again to the forest and found the woodcutter. 'I want your second daughter for my brother,' he said. 'Here is the money. Bring her to the cave tomorrow.' The woodcutter, delighted at his great good fortune, brought his second daughter to Abu Freywar, and directly he had gone, Abu Freywar gave the girl his ears, which had grown afresh, to eat. She said she was not hungry just then, but would keep them to eat by-and-by. When he went out of the room, she tried to deceive him by hiding his ears under a carpet on the floor. When he returned and asked if she had eaten them, she said 'Yes.' But he called out, 'Ears of mine, are you hot or cold? 'and they answered promptly, 'Cold as ice, and lying under the carpet.' Whereupon Abu Freywar, in a rage hung her up beside her sister. He then went and asked for the youngest daughter, whose name was Zerendac, saying, that he wanted her for another brother. But the girl, a spoilt child, refused to go unless she might take with her a pet kitten and a box in which she kept her treasures. Hugging those, she went with Abu Freywar to the cave. She proved wiser than her sisters. When her husband's back was turned, she gave his ears to the cat which devoured them eagerly, while she ate some food which she had brought from home. When the ogre returned and cried as of wont, 'Ears of mine, are you hot or cold?' He received the answer, 'As hot as can be in this snug little stomach,' and this pleased him so that from that time he began to grow very fond of Zerendac. After she had lived some days with him, he said, 'I must go on a journey. There are forty rooms in this palace. Here are the keys, with which you may open any door you please except that to which this golden key belongs,' and with that he took his departure. Zerendac amused herself in his absence with opening and examining the locked- up rooms. On entering the thirty-ninth, she happened to look out of the window which opened on to a burial ground, and was terrified to see her husband, who was a ghoul, devouring a corpse that he had just dug out of a grave with his long claw- like nails. She was so fascinated with the sight that (hidden behind the window curtain), she watched him at his horrible repast. A few minutes later she saw him start and hide himself behind a monument in the cemetery. He had been disturbed by the approach of a funeral. As the procession approached she heard one of the bearers say, 'Let us be off as soon as possible, lest the ghoul which haunts this place get hold of us,' and she could see that the whole company seemed very anxious. This discovery caused the girl great uneasiness. She was anxious to know what was in the fortieth room, and the discovery she had made as to the real character of her husband prompted her to solve the mystery at any cost. She took the golden key and opened the door. She found her two sisters still alive and dangling from the ceiling by their hair. She cut them down, fed them, and as soon as their health was restored, sent them back to her parents. Abu Freywar returned next day, but not for long. He left home a few days later, telling his wife she might invite any of her relations whom she cared to see. Accordingly she invited many of her friends and relatives, who came to see her, but heard nothing of her troubles. It was well for her that she did not complain, for her visitors were not the persons they seemed to be, but simply her husband in various shapes assumed in order to entrap her. He succeeded at last in the form of her grandmother to whom she was beginning to tell all her sorrows; when the old woman became Abu Freywar and, taking a poisoned nail, drove it into her breast. The wound did not kill her, but it caused her to swoon away. No sooner was she unconscious than the monster put her into a chest and sank it in the sea. Now the son of the sultan of that land was fond of boating and fishing, and this prince happened to cast a large net from a boat close to the place where the chest in which she was lay at the bottom of the sea. The net, happening to enclose the chest, was hauled in with the greatest difficulty. The sultan's son had it drawn into the boat, and, before opening it, said to his attendants, 'If it contains money or jewels, you may have them all; but should it contain anything else, it is mine.' He was greatly shocked when he saw its actual contents, and mourned the sad fate of that lovely girl. He had her body carried to his mother's chamber, to be honorably prepared for burial. During the process, the nail being found and removed, Zerendac sneezed and came to life again. She married the prince, and in course of time bore him a daughter. But one day, when she was alone with the child, the wall of her room suddenly split open, and Abu Freywar appeared. Without a word to the mother, he snatched up the infant and swallowed it, disappearing as suddenly as he had come. Zerendac was so bewildered by this fresh misfortune that, when asked where the baby had gone, she could only weep despairingly. Her second child, a son, and the third, another daughter, were torn from her in the same horrible manner. On this last occasion, the cruel ogre smeared the poor mother's face with her child's blood. She washed it off, but, in her hurry and anguish, missed a slight stain beneath her under lip. Her husband and her mother-in-law, already very suspicious, judged of course that she was a ghoul and had devoured her offspring. Zerendac told her story, but no one would believe it. Her husband, being loth to put her to death, ordered her to be imprisoned in a small underground chamber, and, at his mother's suggestion, sought another bride. Hearing of the beauty of the daughter of a neighboring sultan, he went to ask for her. But before setting out he sent for the mother of his lost children, and asked her what she would like him to bring her when he came back. She asked for a box of aloes [Arabic sebr, also meaning 'patience'], for a box of henna [the same word means 'tenderness'], and a dagger. Her request was granted, and when the prince returned from his betrothal to the sultan's daughter, he brought with him these things for Zerendac. She opened the boxes, one by one, saying, 'O box of sebr, you have not in you more patience than I have shown. O box of henna, you cannot be gentler than I have been,' and was just going to stab herself with the dagger, when the wall of her prison opened and Abu Frey war appeared, leading a handsome boy and two lovely girls. 'Live!' he cried, 'I have not killed your children. Here they are.' He then by his magic made a secret staircase connecting her dungeon with the great hall of the palace. Having done this, he seized the dagger and slew himself. When the festivities in connection with the prince's marriage began, Zerendac sent the three children, richly dressed in clothes which Abu Freywar had left with her, up the staircase, telling them to amuse themselves without respect for the guests or the furniture. Accordingly they did all the damage they could think of; but the mother of the prince was slow to punish them, because they were pretty, and reminded her of her son at their age. But at last, losing patience, she was going to strike one of them when they all shouted at once, 'Ya sitt Ubdûr, shun keyf el kamr btadûr,' which means, 'O Lady Full-Moon, look how the moon is turning round.' Everyone rushed to the window, and while their backs were turned the children vanished. On the actual wedding day the children appeared again when their father was present, ran about, breaking china and glass, and did all the damage they could think of. The prince forbade them. They replied haughtily, 'This is our house, and everything here belongs to us and to our parents.' 'What do you mean by that?' inquired the prince. The children answered by leading their father down the secret staircase to Zerendac, who explained who they really were and how they came there. The prince, greatly moved, embraced her tenderly and swore to be true to her till his life's end. The sultan's daughter was returned, with excuses and a satisfactory present, to her father; and the prince and Zerendac lived happy ever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1157,How the Devil Played the Flute,Germany,NA,"Johann Wilhelm Wolf, 'Wie der Teufel auf der Flöte blies,' Deutsche Hausmärchen (Göttingen: Dieterich'sche Buchhandlung, 1851), pp. 438-39.","Once the devil became bored in hell and wanted to take a pleasure trip to earth. Not wanting to be alone (for he does not like that at all; he loves company) he took his youngest son with him, a young black curious whippersnapper. They traveled out through a mountain cave, arriving in a forest. The little devil was delighted. He jumped about, climbed up the trees and hung by his tail, just like a monkey, doing all sorts of foolish things. They came to a large oak tree where a man in a green jacket and with a green cap was lying asleep. A bag was hanging next to him from the tree, from which were protruding all kinds of game: hares, woodcocks, and wild ducks. Next to the bag there was a gun. The little devil ran up and examined everything closely. Picking up the gun, he asked his father what it was. The old devil wrinkled his forehead and said, 'That is a flute, my son. When people play on it, wild animals run up to them, and they only have to catch them.' 'That I have to see,' said the little devil. 'You should play something for me on it.' 'It takes two, my son. One to blow and one to finger.' 'Then you can blow, and I will finger,' said the whippersnapper. So the old one had to put the barrel into his mouth, whether he wanted to or not, because he had spoiled the little fellow rotten. The old one blew, and the whippersnapper fingered and fingered, but not a single tone came out. 'You have to press down on the keys, you stupid boy,' said the old one. The little devil pushed against the hammer, then there came such a blow that the old one was struck to the ground, for the entire load of shot hit him in the throat. The young one ran away, terrified. The old one soon recovered and ran after his boy, for the sound of the gun had awakened the man. 'That was not a beautiful tone,' said the whippersnapper. 'You pressed the wrong key,' said the old one, 'and the flute was dusty, so all the dust flew into my throat.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1157,The Origin of the Jack-o'-Lantern,Wales,"Jack-o'-lantern, in the context of this tale, is another name for a will-o'-the-wisp. The motif of a mortal selling his soul to the devil is epitomized in the Faust legends.","Wirt Sikes, British Goblins: Welsh Folk-Lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends, and Traditions (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1880), pp. 204-205.","A popular legend giving the origin of the jack-o'-lantern in Wales deals with the idea of a stupid devil: A long time ago there lived on the hills of Arfon an old man of the name of Sion Dafydd, who used to converse much with one of the children of the bottomless pit. One morning Sion was on his way to Llanfair-Fechan, carrying a flail on his shoulder, for he had corn there, when whom should he meet but his old friend from the pit, with a bag on his back, and in it two little devils like himself. After conversing for some time they began to quarrel, and presently were in the midst of a terrible fight. Sion fell to basting the devils with his flail, until the bag containing the two little ones went all to pieces, and the two tumbling out, fled for their lives to Rhiwgyfylchi, which village is considered to this day a very wicked place from this fact. Sion then went his way rejoicing, and did not for a long time encounter his adversary. Eventually, however, they met, and this time Sion had his gun on his shoulder. 'What's that long thing you're carrying?' inquired the devil. 'That's my pipe,' said Sion. Then the devil asked, 'Shall I have a whiff out of it?' 'You shall,' was Sion's reply, and he placed the mouth of his gun in the devil's throat and drew the trigger. Well; that was the loudest report from a gun that was ever heard on this earth. 'Ach!-tw!-tw!' exclaimed the smoker, 'your pipe is very foul,' and he disappeared in a flame. After a lapse of time, Sion met him again in the guise of a gentleman, but the Welshman knew it was the tempter. This time he made a bargain for which he was ever afterwards sorry, i.e., he sold himself to the devil for a sum down, but with the understanding that whenever he could cling to something the devil should not then control him. One day when Sion was busily gardening, the evil one snatched him away into the air without warning, and Sion was about giving up all hopes of again returning to earth, when he thought to himself, 'I'll ask the devil one last favor.' The stupid devil listened. 'All I want is an apple,' said Sion, 'to moisten my lips a bit down below; let me go to the top of my apple tree, and I'll pick one.' 'Is that all?' quoth the diawl, and consented. Of course Sion laid hold of the apple tree, and hung on. The devil had to leave him there. But the old reprobate was too wicked for heaven, and the devil having failed to take him to the other place, he was turned into a fairy, and is now the jack-o'- lantern. fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1174,A Wild Legend,Scotland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Jeanie M. Laing, 'Some Notes on the History of Kemnay,' Scottish Notes and Queries, vol. 1, no. 9 (February 1888), p. 138.","A wild legend accounts for the peculiar broken character of these hills or rather hillocks, but it is almost forgotten in the parish, so that it is well nigh impossible to get a correct version of it. It appears, however, that the devil challenged an old witch to make a rope of sand. How she contrived to outwit his Satanic Majesty is unknown, but win the wager she did. The devil's rope broke, and remains to this day in the Kembs of Kemnay.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1174,Donald Duival and the Devil,Scotland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Alexander Macbain, 'Highland Superstition,' Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Invernessvol. 14 (1887-88), pp. 239-40.. Source (Internet Archive): Alexander Macbain, 'Highland Superstition,' Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Invernessvol. 14 (1887-88), pp. 239-40..","He set them to thrash his corn, but that was done in a minute. He then asked them to build him a 'square' or farm out-house, and it was put up in no time. Then he asked them to strip the hill above his house of its heather. Before he could look about him, they had all the heather at his side. He then asked them to build sand mounds in the sea, and they were spoiling the harbours when he stopped them and asked them to make ropes of the sand. This they are still working at, it is said, for they have not been able to hit on a method of making ropes of sand purely. Could they be allowed to use straw along with sand, they would succeed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1174,Michael Scott,Scotland,Michael Scot (usually spelled with one t) was a mathematician and astrologer born in 1175 in southern Scotland or northern England. He died in about 1232.,"Source (books.google.com): Walter Scott, The Lay of the Last Minstrel (London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme; Edinburgh: A. Constable and Company, 1805), p. 240. Source (Internet Archive): Walter Scott, The Lay of the Last Minstrel (London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme; Edinburgh: A. Constable and Company, 1805), p. 240.","Michael Scott was, once upon a time, much embarrassed by a spirit, for whom he was under the necessity of finding constant employment. He commanded him to build a cauld, or dam-head, across the Tweed at Kelso: it was accomplished in one night, and still does honour to the infernal architect. Michael next ordered, that Eildon hill, which was then a uniform cone, should be divided into three. Another night was sufficient to part its summit into the three picturesque peaks which it now bears. At length the enchanter conquered this indefatigable dæmon, by employing him in the hopeless and endless task of making ropes out of sea sand.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1174,Mitchell Scott,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): The Denham Tracts: A Collection of Folklore by Michael Aislabie Denham, edited by James Hardy, vol. 2 (London: Published for the Folklore Society, 1895), p. 116. Source (Internet Archive): The Denham Tracts: A Collection of Folklore by Michael Aislabie Denham, edited by James Hardy, vol. 2 (London: Published for the Folklore Society, 1895), p. 116.","Long before Sir Walter Scott had given increased celebrity to the wizard feats of his clansman, Michael Scott, his fame had penetrated to the remotest villages of Northumberland. Similar anecdotes, but somewhat varied in the telling, have been transmitted of him there, as well as in the hamlets on the northern side of the Borders.... The Northumbrians call the magician Mitchell Scott. The fame of Mitchell is great in that district for having beat the devil and his myrmidons by the well-known device of employing them to spin ropes of sand, denying them even the aid of chaff to supply some degree of tenacity to the incohesivo material.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1174,The Cheated Devil,Germany,"Jahn's source: 'Oral, from the districts of Bütow, Fürstentum, and Regenwalde.' The episode about Deceiving the Devil by Breaking Wind is a type 1176 folktale. A square knot (German Kreuzknoten) is also called a reef knot.","Source (books.google.com): Ulrich Jahn, 'Der geprellte Teufel,' Volkssagen aus Pommern und Rügen, 2nd edition (Berlin: Mayer & Müller, 1889), , no. 402, pp. 320-21. Source (Internet Archive): Ulrich Jahn, 'Der geprellte Teufel,' Volkssagen aus Pommern und Rügen (Stettin: Verlag von H. Dannenberg, 1886), , no. 402, pp. 320-21.","The brothers entered into this pact. The younger brother purchased many horses, and from the entire countryside he hauled together a whole mountain of stones. To the contrary, the older brother did not give up his wild living. At the end of a year the Evil One returned. The younger brother commanded him to blow apart the pile of stones with just three puffs. With only his second puff the devil blew all the sand in the pile into the sky, and with his third puff half the mountain and disappeared. Having done this he took hold of the man, and then flew with him to the older brother. This brother was sitting in a tavern, and came outside only after much cajoling. When the devil asked him for his task, this brother broke wind and said, 'Catch that for me, and tie a square knot into it!' That was too much for the devil. He had to release the younger brother and give them a great pile of money as well. One might think that the requirement to tie a square knot was superfluous -- that in any event the devil would have been unable to fulfill such a task. But that is not true, as a simple peasant learned to his sorrow. He gave the same task to the Evil One, but without the square knot, and what happened? A day passed, then a month, and then another month, and the devil did not return. The peasant felt quite safe, but at the end of an entire year the Evil One came running up, out of breath. He pulled out a feather, and behold: He had captured all the man's wind, to the last puff, and put it into the quill. And, of course, with that he had won the peasant's soul. Another man from the same village had better luck. He commanded the devil to to collect and bring to him all the iron that had worn away from his plow as it had worked his fields. Knowing that he would not be able to do this, the devil threw the contract at the peasant's feet, and flew away. The devil is also unable to spin a mountain of sand into a rope. Many individuals have escaped from him by giving him this task. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1174,The Devil and the Schoolmaster at Cockerham,England,Cockerham is a small village in Lancashire.,"Source (books.google.com): John Harland and T. T. Wilkinson, Lancashire Folk-Lore: Illustrative of the Superstitious Beliefs and Practices, Local Customs and Usages of the People of the County Palatine (London: Frederick Warne and Company, 1867), pp. 83-84. Source (Internet Archive): John Harland and T. T. Wilkinson, Lancashire Folk-Lore: Illustrative of the Superstitious Beliefs and Practices, Local Customs and Usages of the People of the County Palatine (London: Frederick Warne and Company, 1867), pp. 83-84.","Using the prescribed incantation at midnight, the pedagogue succeeded in raising Satan; but when he saw his large horns and tail, saucer eyes, and long claws, he became almost speechless. According to the recognised procedure in such cases, the devil granted him the privilege of setting three tasks, which if he (Satan) accomplished, the schoolmaster became his prey; if he failed, it would compel the flight of the demon from Cockerham. The first task, to count the number of dewdrops on certain hedges, was soon accomplished; and so was the second, to count the number of stalks in a field of grain. The third task was then proposed in the following words, according to a doggerel version of the tradition: Speedily the rope was twisted of fine sand, but it would not stand washing; so the devil was foiled, and at one stride he stepped over the bridge over Broadfleet, at Pilling Moss. The metrical version of the legend is scarcely worth printing.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1174,"The Shoemaker, the Tailor, and the Sailor",Germany,This legend was collected on the German island of Rügen in the Baltic Sea.,"Source (books.google.com): Rudolf Baier, 'Der betrogene Teufel: Zwei Märchen von der Insel Rügen,' Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde, edited by J. W. Wolf, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1855), pp. 147-48. Source (Internet Archive): Rudolf Baier, 'Der betrogene Teufel: Zwei Märchen von der Insel Rügen,' Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde, edited by J. W. Wolf, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1855), pp. 147-48.","Once there were a shoemaker, a tailor, and a sailor who came upon hard times. Then they made a pact with the devil: that he should fulfill all their wishes, but for this they signed away their souls. Thus they wished for endless money, good food and drink, and everything else that they could think of. But the deadline soon came, and each one thought of some task that the devil would be unable fulfill, in which case they would be free of their pact. Thus the tailor demanded that the devil bring to him every trimming of cloth that he had ever cut off -- large and small -- in his previous tailoring. The devil should sew together into one piece every scrap that had ever fallen to the floor, and not a single stitch was to be visible. The devil soon completed this task and wrung the tailor's neck. The same thing happened to the shoemaker, who demanded a single hide stitched together from the trimmings of all the shoes he had ever made. However, the sailor gave the devil the task of making an anchor rope out of fine sand. The devil attempted to do so, but failed, and thus the sailor saved his own life and his soul.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1175,Tapai and the Brahman,India,"Anderson retells this story in his review of the book Sajher Bhog by Rai Sahib Dinesh Chandra Sen (Calcutta: Sisir Publishing House, 1919). Title added by D. L. Ashliman.","J. D. Anderson, book review in Folk-Lore: A Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Institution, and Custom, vol. 31 (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1920), pp. 258-260.","He came near, and feeling the genial influence of the flame from afar, incautiously shouted 'Tapai, tapai,' meaning 'I am warmed, I am warmed.' Alas, the creatures round the fire were maleficent ghosts, hideous, distorted, grinning, sworn enemies of mankind, shouting obscene words with the nasal utterance which marks their race. Moreover, one of them was named Tapai, and the ghostly assemblage were mightily vexed at a mortal's familiar use of their comrade's name. They threatened him with instant death. The Brahman, in terror, felt for his sacred thread, but it had slipped down. He strove to repeat the holy names of the gods, but his memory was paralyzed with fear. But finally the thread came into his hand, and taking heart, he boldly asserted that he knew Tapai quite well, seeing that Tapai and his ancestors for three generations had been the slaves of his family. 'Well,' cried Tapai, 'if he can tell me the names of my ancestors, I will become his bond servant.' To which the keen-witted priest replied, 'How can I be expected to know the names of all the slaves of my ancestors? But I have them recorded in a ledger at home.' On which he was allowed to depart on condition that he returned on the third day to answer to Tapai's challenge. Otherwise not only he but his family would perish at the hands of the man-eating bhutas. The Brahman went home, saved for the moment, indeed, but filled with despair for the future. For two miserable days the wretched priest could neither eat nor sleep, and his wife and daughter and infant son shared his anxiety. The third night, when his family slept, the miserable man went forth to hang himself in the jungle rather than face his ghostly foes. But on the very tree he chose for his suicide were two dark forms. He shuddered, he stood still, but he listened. It was Tapai and his wife, and the latter, with true feminine curiosity, was asking her husband the names of his forebears. Of course Tapai had to tell, as every husband does when his wife presses him. He recited the following verse: Such was the verse which the Brahman committed to memory, and groping his way home through the dark forest, faced life with a new confidence. Next evening he went to the ghostly rendezvous, and the unlucky Tapai followed him home, his submissive slave. But there was one condition. Tapai would perform all tasks given to him from dawn till nightfall. But he must be kept occupied all the time. At first the condition seemed easy to fulfil. The bhuta was ordered to build a palace, raise a noble temple, dig a tank, procure a bridegroom for the Brahman's daughter, etc., etc. But there are limits to human desires and human inventiveness, and even the Brahman was, in spite of all the luxury with which he was now surrounded, a harassed and perplexed mortal. He was like to die of sheer worry and anxious thought, when his wife came to his rescue. She plucked a curly hair from her husband's eyebrow. 'Give that to the creature,' she said, 'and tell him to straighten it.' The poor demon, for once, was at his wit's end. He pulled the hair, and pressed it, and wetted it. But all in vain. The moment it was released, it curled up again. Finally, at nightfall, the good Brahman released Tapai, as Prospero released Ariel, and then he and his family lived happily afterwards!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1175,The Brahmarâkshas and the Hair,India,The sentence above that begins 'When evening was approaching...' reads in the original publication 'When enemies were approaching....' I have taken the liberty to correct this apparent typographical error. --DLA.,"Georgiana Kingscote and Natêsá Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London and Calcutta: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), no. 26, pp. 285-289.","In a certain village there lived a very rich landlord who owned several villages, but was such a great miser that no tenant would willingly cultivate his lands, and those he had gave him not a little trouble. He was indeed so vexed with them that he left all his lands untilled, and his tanks and irrigation channels dried up. All this, of course, made him poorer and poorer day by day. Nevertheless, he never liked the idea of freely opening his purse to his tenants and obtaining their good will. While he was in this frame of mind a learned Sanayâsi [holy man] paid him a visit, and on his representing his case to him, he said, 'My dear son, I know an incantation (mantra) in which I can instruct you. If you repeat it for three months day and night, a Brahmarâkshas will appear before you on the first day of the fourth month. Make him your servant, and then you can set at naught all your petty troubles with your tenants. The Brahmarâkshas will obey all your orders, and you will find him equal to one hundred servants.' Our hero fell at his feet and begged to be instructed at once. The sage then sat facing the east and his disciple the landlord facing the west, and in this position formal instruction was given, after which the Sanayâsi went his way. The landlord, mightily pleased at what he had learnt, went on practicing the incantation, till, on the first day of the fourth month, the great Brahmarâkshas stood before him. 'What do you want, sir, for my hands?' said he. 'What is the object of your having propitiated me for these three months?' The landlord was thunderstruck at the huge monster who now stood before him and still more so at his terrible voice, but nevertheless said, 'I want you to become my servant and obey all my commands.' 'Agreed,' answered the Brahmarâkshas in a very mild tone, for it was his duty to leave off his impertinent ways when anyone who had performed the required penance wanted him to become his servant. 'Agreed. But you must always give me work to do. When one job is finished you must at once give me a second, and so on. If you fail, I shall kill you.' The landlord, thinking that he would have work for several such Brahmarâkshasas, was pleased to see that his demoniacal servant was so eager to help him. He at once took him to a big tank, which had been dried up for several years, and pointing it out spoke as follows, 'You see this big tank; you must make it as deep as the height of two palmyra trees and repair the embankment wherever it is broken.' 'Yes, my master, your orders shall be obeyed,' humbly replied the servant and fell to work. The landlord, thinking that it would take several months, if not years, to do the work in the tank, for it was two kos long and one kos broad, returned delighted to his home, where his people were awaiting him with a sumptuous dinner. When evening was approaching, the Brahmarâkshas came to inform his master that he had finished his work in the tank. He was indeed astonished and feared for his own life. 'What! Finished the work in one day which I thought would occupy him for months and years. If he goes on at this rate, how shall I keep him employed. And when I cannot find it for him he will kill me!' Thus he thought and began to weep. His wife wiped the tears that ran down his face, and said, 'My dearest husband, you must not lose courage. Get out of the Brahmarâkshas all the work you can and then let me know. I'll give him something that will keep him engaged for a very very long time, and then he'll trouble us no more.' But her husband only thought her words to be meaningless and followed the Brahmarâkshas to see what he had done. Sure enough the thing was as complete as could be, so he asked him to plow all his lands, which extended over twenty villages! This was done in two ghatikas! The landlord now grew hopeless. 'What more work have you for me?' roared the Brahmarâkshas, as he found that his master had nothing for him to do, and that the time for his eating him up was approaching. 'My dear friend,' said he, 'my wife says she has a little job to give you. Do it please now. I think that is the last thing I can give you to do, and after it, in obedience to the conditions under which you took service with me, I must become your prey! At this moment his wife came to them, holding in her left hand a long hair, which she had just pulled out from her head, and said, 'Well Brahmarâkshas, I have only a very light job for you. Take this hair, and when you have made it straight, bring it back to me.' The Brahmarâkshas calmly took it, and sat in a pîpal tree to make it straight. He rolled it several times on his thigh and lifted it up to see if it became straight; but no, it would still bend! Just then it occurred to him that goldsmiths, when they want to make their metal wires straight, have them heated in fire; so he went to a fire and placed the hair over it, and of course it frizzled up with a nasty smell! He was horrified! 'What will my master's wife say if I do not produce the hair she gave me?' So he became mightily afraid, and ran away. This story is told to explain the modern custom of nailing a handful of hair to a tree in which devils are supposed to dwell, to drive them away. Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London and Calcutta: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), no. 26, pp. 285-289. The sentence above that begins 'When evening was approaching...' reads in the original publication 'When enemies were approaching....' I have taken the liberty to correct this apparent typographical error. --DLA.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1175,The Devil and the Farmer,England,NA,"J. Salisbury, A Glossary of Words and Phrases Used in South-East Worcestershire (London: English Dialect Society, 1893), pp. 72-75.","The devil once called on a farmer and asked him if he could give him a job. 'What can you do?' said the farmer. 'Oh! anything about a farm,' said the devil. 'Well, I want a man to help me thresh a mow of wheat,' says the farmer. 'All right,' says the devil, 'I'm your man.' When they got to the barn, the farmer said to the devil, 'Which do you want to do, thresh or throw down?' 'Thresh,' said the devil. So the farmer got on top of the mow and began to throw down the sheaves of wheat onto the barn floor, but as fast as he could throw them down, the devil with one stroke of his flail knocked all the grain out of them and sent the sheaves flying out of the barn door. The farmer thought he had got a queer sort of a thresher man; and as he couldn't throw down fast enough for him, he says to him, 'Will you come and throw down?' 'All right,' says the devil. So the farmer gets down off the mow by the ladder, but the devil, he just gives a leap up from the barn floor to the top of the mow without waiting to go up the ladder. 'Are you ready?' says the devil. 'Yes,' says the farmer. With that the devil sticks his fork into as many sheaves as would cover the barn floor and throws them down. 'That'll do for a bit,' says the farmer. So the devil sat down and waited till the farmer had threshed that lot, and when he was ready again, he threw another floor full; and before night they'd finished threshing the whole mow of wheat. The farmer couldn't help thinking a good deal about his new man, for he'd never seen such a one before. (He didn't know it was the devil, you know, because he took care not to let the farmer see his cloven foot.) So in the morning he got up early and went and spoke to a cunning man about it. The cunning man said it must be the devil that had come to him, and as he had asked him in, he couldn't get rid of him unless he could give him a job that he couldn't do. Soon after the farmer got home again, his new man wanted to know what he was to do that day, and the farmer thought he'd give him a teaser, so he says, 'Go into the barn, look, and count the number of grains there are in that pile of wheat that we threshed out yesterday.' 'All right,' says old Nick, and off he went. In a few minutes he comes back and says, 'Master, there are so many' (naming ever so many thousand or millions and odd, I don't know how many). 'Are you sure you counted them all?' says the farmer. 'Every grain,' says Satan. Then the farmer ordered him to go and fill a hogshead barrel full of water with a sieve. So off he shoots again, but soon comes back and tells the farmer he'd done it; and sure enough he had. And every job the farmer set him to do was the same. The poor farmer didn't know what to make of it, for though he was getting his work done up so quick, he didn't like his new man's company. However, the farmer thought he'd have another try to trick him, and told the devil he wanted him to go with him mowing next morning. 'All right,' says the old one. 'I'll be there, master.' But as soon as it was night, the farmer went to the field, and in the part the devil was to mow, he drove a lot of harrow tines into the ground amongst the grass. In the morning they got to the field in smart time, and began to mow. The farmer he took his side, and told the devil to begin on the other, where he'd stuck in the harrow tines, you know. Well, at it went the devil, who but he, and soon got in among the stuck-up harrow tines, but they made no odds. His scythe went through them all, and the only notice on them he took was to say to the farmer every time he'd cut one of them through, 'a burdock, master,' and kept on just the same. The poor farmer, he got so frightened at last, he threw down his scythe and left the devil to finish the field. As luck would have it, soon after he got home, a Gypsy woman called at the farm house, and seeing the farmer was in trouble, asked him what was the matter. So he up and told her all about it. 'Ah, master,' she says to him when he had told her all about it, 'you have got the devil in your house sure enough, and you can only get rid of him by giving him something to do that he can't manage.' 'Well, woman,' says the farmer, 'what's the use of telling me that? I tried everything I can think of, but darned if I can find him any job that he can't do.' 'I'll tell you what to do,' says the Gypsy woman, 'When he comes home, you get the missus to give him one of her curly hairs, and then send him to the blacksmith's shop to straighten it on the blacksmith's anvil. He'll find he can't do that, and he'll get so wild over it, that he'll never come back to you again.' The farmer was very thankful to the Gypsy woman and said he'd try her plan. So by and by in comes the old fellow, and says, 'I have finished the mowing, master. What else have you got for me to do?' 'Well, I can't think of another job just now,' says the farmer, 'but I think the missus has got a little job for you.' So he called the missus, and she gave the devil a curly hair lapped up in a bit of paper, and told him to go to the blacksmith's shop and hammer that there hair straight; and when it was straight to bring it back to her. 'All right, missus,' the devil says, and off he shot. When he got to the blacksmith's shop, he hammered and hammered at that there hair on the anvil, but the more he hammered the crookeder the hair got; so at last he threw down the hammer and the hair, and bolted, and never went back to the farmer again. South-East Worcestershire (London: English Dialect Society, 1893), pp. 72-75.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1175,Tricking the Devil,Germany,NA,"Ernst Meier, Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 33, pp. 120-122.","A young man made the following contract with the devil: The devil was to provide the man with money. In return, at a predetermined time the man was to give the devil work that would keep him busy an entire day. If the man were able to do this, then the devil would have given him the money for nothing. If he were not able to do this, then the man would belong to the devil, and the latter would be able to take him away. It came to pass that the time lapsed just as the man was celebrating his wedding. A boy came up to him and told him that a strange gentleman was outside who wanted to speak with him. The man immediately remembered the devil and did not go. The boy returned and called for him again, but still he did not go. Then the devil came inside personally and demanded either a task or the man himself. The man showed him a field of clover and told him to mow it. This would have taken a single man several days, but the devil finished it in an instant and demanded another task. Then the man took a bushel of clover seeds, scattered them over the field, and told the devil to gather them back up. It was a simple matter for him, and he was finished in a half hour. The man became terrified when the devil asked for yet another task. Then the man's bride noticed her husband's concern and said, 'What is the matter? Why do you keep running in and out?' The man confessed everything to her and told her of the danger that he now faced. The bride said, 'I will help you. You should have told me about it earlier!' Plucking out one of her short curly hairs, she gave it to her husband and said, 'Take this to the devil and demand that he straighten it!' The man did this. The devil made an ugly face, then picked and pulled and bent away at the hair. He even placed it on an anvil and tried to pound it straight with a hammer, but it was all for nothing. The devil was not able to complete this task that day. The hair remained curly and crooked, and he was tricked out of his prize. (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 33, pp. 120-122.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1176,Deceiving the Devil,Germany,Kuhn's and Schwartz's source: 'Oral tradition from Steina.',"Source (Internet Archive): A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, 'Der betrogene Teufel,' Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), pp. 329-30.","The first man hauled gigantic stone blocks down from a mountain from morning until evening, When his time was up and the devil came to get him, he told the devil to replace all the stones back on the mountain within one day. But the devil did not need a day. He finished the task in five minutes and took him away. Then the devil came for the second fellow, who following the pact had gone immediately to a tavern where he joyfully spent every day eating and drinking to his heart's content, for he had all the money he could use. When he saw the devil coming he was full of good cheer and made no sign of getting ready to leave. The latter told him to make haste, for his time was up. The fellow said, 'Now, now, I still have some time. My hour hasn't come yet.' Walking back and forth in his room he finally broke wind mightily and then said to the devil, 'Bring that back to me!' The devil was not able to do this, and he left in an sour mood. I cannot tell you what the third fellow did to defeat the devil. If you want to know, you'll have to ask the old tavern keeper at Steina. By now it will have come back to him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1176,Ridiculing the Devil,Martin Luther,"Martin Luther's Tischreden (Table Talk) is a collection of the protestant reformer's sayings collected by his students between 1531 and 1544, and first published in 1566.","Source (books.google.com): D. Martin Luther's Tischreden oder Colloquia, edited by Karl Eduard Förstemann, section 3 (Leipzig: Gebauer'sche Buchhandlung, 1846), pp. 38-39. Source (Internet Archive): D. Martin Luther's Tischreden oder Colloquia, edited by Karl Eduard Förstemann, section 3 (Leipzig: Gebauer'sche Buchhandlung, 1846), pp. 38-39.","To show that ridicule is the best means of dealing with the devil, Dr. Luther related the following story, which took place in Magdeburg: When I was beginning my ministry in Magdeburg, a citizen's child died, and he did not have a Roman Catholic vigil performed, nor a death-mass sung, for these were expensive. The devil intervened, for he gladly would have preserved Purgatorium and discursum animarum in Magdeburg. Every night at eight o'clock the devil came into the citizen's bedroom and cried like a young child. The man was distraught and did not know what to do. The priests exclaimed: 'Now you see what happens when you do not hold a vigil. The poor little soul is suffering.' The man wrote to me and asked what he should do, for he had read my sermon on the saying 'You have Moses and the prophets.' I wrote to him that he should not believe the priests. He should let the entire household know that the sound of a child crying was the devil's doing. Then the members of the household ridiculed the devil, saying 'Devil, why are you here? Have you nothing better to do? Go back where you belong, into the depths of hell, you cursed spirit!' Then the devil ceased immitating a child and instead stormed about, ranting and raving. He often appeared in the form of a howling wolf, but the children and other members of the household simply ridiculed him. Whenever a maid went upstairs with a child, he would follow after them, clapping his hands, but they responded, 'Hey, are you crazy?' Finally Herr Jacob [Präpositus], an official in Bremen, came and resided with them. He wanted to hear the spirit. The host said, 'Just wait until eight o'clock, and you shall hear him. He will come for sure.' And that is what happened. The devil threw everything down from the stop of the stove. Herr Jacob said, 'I have heard enough. Let's go to bed now!' There were two bedrooms next to each other. The lady of the house, the children, and the servants were sleeping in the one room. The host and Herr Jacob were in the other room. Herr Jacob had just gone to bed when the devil appeared and teased him, pulling off the bed-cover. Herr Jacob was terrified and prayed fervently, while the devil stormed about on the floor. Finally the devil went over to the poor woman in the next room. He teased her as well, running across her bed like a pack of rats. He would not stop, so the woman raised up, stuck her a--- out of the bed, and let a f--- (politely stated). Then she said, 'Look, devil, here is a staff for you. Take it in your hand and go on a pilgrimage to your idol, the pope in Rome. Get an indulgence from him!' And thus the devil was ridiculed. Thereafter the devil stayed away with his spooking, quia est superbus spiritus et non potest ferre contemptum sui [for the proud spirit cannot bear contempt].",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1176,The Cheated Devil,Germany,"Jahn's source: 'Oral, from the districts of Bütow, Fürstentum, and Regenwalde.' A square knot (German Kreuzknoten) is also called a reef knot. Spinning sand into a rope is the principal motif in folktales of type 1174.","Source (books.google.com): Ulrich Jahn, 'Der geprellte Teufel,' Volkssagen aus Pommern und Rügen, 2nd edition (Berlin: Mayer & Müller, 1889), , no. 402, pp. 320-21. Source (Internet Archive): Ulrich Jahn, 'Der geprellte Teufel,' Volkssagen aus Pommern und Rügen (Stettin: Verlag von H. Dannenberg, 1886), , no. 402, pp. 320-21.","The brothers entered into this pact. The younger brother purchased many horses, and from the entire countryside he hauled together a whole mountain of stones. To the contrary, the older brother did not give up his wild living. At the end of a year the Evil One returned. The younger brother commanded him to blow apart the pile of stones with just three puffs. With only his second puff the devil blew all the sand in the pile into the sky, and with his third puff half the mountain and disappeared. Having done this he took hold of the man, and then flew with him to the older brother. This brother was sitting in a tavern, and came outside only after much cajoling. When the devil asked him for his task, this brother broke wind and said, 'Catch that for me, and tie a square knot into it!' That was too much for the devil. He had to release the younger brother and give them a great pile of money as well. One might think that the requirement to tie a square knot was superfluous -- that in any event the devil would have been unable to fulfill such a task. But that is not true, as a simple peasant learned to his sorrow. He gave the same task to the Evil One, but without the square knot, and what happened? A day passed, then a month, and then another month, and the devil did not return. The peasant felt quite safe, but at the end of an entire year the Evil One came running up, out of breath. He pulled out a feather, and behold: He had captured all the man's wind, to the last puff, and put it into the quill. And, of course, with that he had won the peasant's soul. Another man from the same village had better luck. He commanded the devil to to collect and bring to him all the iron that had worn away from his plow as it had worked his fields. Knowing that he would not be able to do this, the devil threw the contract at the peasant's feet, and flew away. The devil is also unable to spin a mountain of sand into a rope. Many individuals have escaped from him by giving him this task.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1176,The Peasant and the Devil,Martin Montanus,"The German author Martin Montanus was born about 1537 in Strasbourg, and died about 1566.","Source (books.google.com): Martin Montanus, Schwankbücher (1557-1566), edited by Johannes Bolte (Tübingen: Gedruckt für den litterarischen Verein in Stuttgart, 1899), pp. 300-301.. Source (Internet Archive): Martin Montanus, Schwankbücher (1557-1566), edited by Johannes Bolte (Tübingen: Gedruckt für den litterarischen Verein in Stuttgart, 1899), pp. 300-301..","A peasant in a village was wealthy in land and goods, but still rash and disagreeable. It was harvest time, and he should have had workers in his fields cutting the grain, but he did not want to give out the money for their pay. So it is with the wealthy: The more they have, the stingier they are. Thus he spent day and night worrying about how he could bring in his harvest without any cost to himself. While he was thus fretting, the devil appeared to him in the form of a man and asked him why he was so concerned. Would he be able to help? The peasant said, 'Dear brother, I have a great harvest in my fields. It should be cut and brought into my barn, but I don't want to give out my money to the workers. If you have any advice for me, let me hear it.' The devil said, 'If you agree to be mine afterward, I shall bring all your grain into your barn.' The sly peasant, thinking that he could outwit the devil, answered, 'If you can do three things that I ask of you, then afterward I will go with you wherever you want.' The devil agreed to this and asked what he should do. 'Good,' said the peasant. 'First bring all my grain into the barn, without damaging any of it. And after you have done that, bring to my house all the wood that is lying about in the forest and in the meadows. When you have done all this, I'll tell you what else you have to do.' The devil did not think that any of this would be difficult, and he completed these two tasks forthwith. He then returned to the peasant and asked what his last task was to be. Now early that morning the peasant had eaten raw turnips so that he would be able to fart mightily. Then he let a great fart and said to the devil, 'Listen, brother, catch that and tie a knot in it!' The devil was unable to do this, so he went away and left the peasant sitting there by himself.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1176,The Square Knot,East Prussia,"Plenzat's source: Oral tradition from the district of Stallupönen (Nesterov), East Prussia. East Prussia, formerly a province of Prussia, is now a part of Poland, Lithuania, and Russia. Its German inhabitants were largely expelled after 1945. A square knot (Low German Kriezknopp) is also called a reef knot.","Source (books.google.com): Karl Plenzat, 'De Kriezknopp,' Der Wundergarten: Volksmärchen (Berlin and Leipzig: Franz Schneider Verlag, 1922), pp. 146-49.","Once there was a journeyman tailor who had worked diligently all winter. When spring arrived he was no longer willing to squat on the tailoring table making one stitch after the other. He packed up his few things, and with his awl in one hand and his iron in the other he went on his way once again. Before long he met up with a young fellow with fists like a pair of hammers, and the tailor knew at once who he was. 'Hello, Brother Smith, where are you off to?' 'Thank you, Brother Tailor. I'm just following my nose.' 'Shall we go along together?' 'Why not!' And so they plodded along together. Some time later they came upon someone else. He was not as tall as the huge smith, but was still a a good head taller than the tailor. As his cap and clothes were covered with white dust, they said to him, 'Hello, Brother Miller, where are you off to?' Thank you, Brother Tailor, thank you Brother Smith, I'm just going wherever my feet take me.' Toward evening they came to a crossroad. The tailor's nose pointed to the right, and the miller's feet wanted to go to the right as well, so they made their way in that direction. But it was not the right way. They came into a deep forest and did not know the way out again. Finally the pathway ended altogether, and they found themselves in a large meadow where there stood a large devil-stone. It was covered with green moss and was buried halfway in the earth. The tailor said nothing, but the smith and the miller began to curse like soldiers. 'The devil take me!' shouted the one; the other added, 'And let the devil take me as well!' No sooner had they said this than from the trees there came a roaring and groaning sound, which curdled their blood. Suddenly someone appeared before them, as if he had grown out of the earth. He was wearing a little green hat with a red rooster-feather on it. Although he was dressed like a hunter, it was obvious, even from the distance of a hundred feet, that he was up to no good. With his right foot he scratched like a rooster on a manure pile, and then said, 'I'm the one who is taking you away! But today has been a good day for me, so each one of you can demand something from me. If you ask me to do something that I cannot do, I'll lead you out of the woods. But otherwise you must go to hell with me!' 'You first,' he said to the smith, who made a face like a cat in a thunderstorm, and did not know what to say. 'You're running out of time!' shouted the devil. The smith stuttered, 'Can you throw this big stone here into the clouds and then catch it with your right ear?' Saying nothing, the devil grabbed the stone with both fists as though he wanted to squeeze it to death, and with one jerk pulled it out of the earth. He swung it up and down and then threw it into the clouds -- so high that it could no longer be seen. When the rock came hurtling back, the three of them jumped aside like billy-goats. The devil caught it with his right ear, then gently placed it back into its hole. 'What do you say to that?' he asked the smith, who was standing lamely by. The devil gave him a kick, and in a large arc he flew directly into hell. 'Now what's your task?' he asked the miller. The miller's heart had fallen into his trousers, and he could think of nothing except for the large rock. 'Can you grind this large rock into flour?' he asked. The devil grinned, then ground away at the rock with his teeth: Gurtsch, gurtsch. He had barely begun when there was nothing left of the rock but a pile of gray flour. The miller received his kick as well, and in a large arc he flew after the smith. Now only the tailor remained. He was shaking over his whole body and was as white as a handkerchief. 'Now, Threadman, what have you decided?' But the tailor could say nothing. The Evil One looked at him with his fiery eyes and bellowed, 'Say something, tailor, I don't have any more time!' With that the tailor let out a sigh, a sigh from deep within his breast and so loud that it could be heard from afar. (Some folks say that he broke wind, but such people are rather crude.) Then suddenly, and he himself did not know why, the tailor said, 'Catch that and tie it into a square knot.' However, the sigh had long since been blown away by the wind, and the devil stood there like an ox before a gate. He had to let the tailor go. In his anger he stamped his horse-hoof foot to the ground. It opened up, and he fell head-first into hell. Recovering from his fright, the tailor saw that he was all alone. There was nothing more to be seen of the smith, the miller, or the devil. If it hadn't been for the pile of stone-flour and the stench of pitch and sulfur throughout the woods, it all could have been a dream. Then he took off, as though someone were chasing after him. He found his way out of the woods and happily returned home. He married a beautiful girl. My grandfather was at the wedding, and many times he heard the tailor himself telling this story. Therefore it certainly has to be true.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1176,Timmermann's Fart,Germany,Kuhn's and Schwartz's source: 'Oral tradition from Werlte.',"Source (Internet Archive): A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, 'Timmermann's Skitz,' Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), p. 304.","Once a carpenter made a pact with the devil, and when his time was up, the devil came to him and wanted to take him away. However, the carpenter told him that he had to fulfill one last request for him, and the devil agreed to this. With that the carpenter broke wind mightily and then told the devil to bring it back to him. The devil was not able to do this, however much he tried. A whirlwind is just the devil flying along behind the carpenter's fart. For this reason a whirlwind is called simply 'Timmerman's Fart.' [Timmermann is Low German for carpenter.]",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,Kilgrim Bridge,England,NA,"Gutch, Mrs.[Eliza], Examples of Printed Folk-Lore Concerning the North Riding of Yorkshire, York and the Ainsty = County Folk-Lore, vol. 2, Printed Extracts, no. 4 (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by David Nutt, 1901), p. 19.","Regarding the building of this [Kilgrim] bridge is the following curious legend: Many bridges having been built on this site by the inhabitants, none had been able to withstand the fury of the floods until his 'Satanic Majesty' promised to build a bridge which would defy the fury of the elements, on condition that the first living creature who passed over should fall a sacrifice to his 'Sable Majesty.' Long did the inhabitants consider, when the bridge was complete, as to who should be the victim. A shepherd, more wise than his neighbors, owned a dog called Grim. This man having first swum the river, whistled for the dog to follow. Poor Grim unwittingly bounded across the bridge and thus fell a victim to his 'Sable Majesty.' Tradition says, from this circumstance the spot has ever since been known as Kill Grim Bridge.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Bamberg Cathedral and Bridge,Germany,NA,"Adalbert Kuhn, 'Dom und Brücke zu Bamberg,' Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen und einigen andern, besonders den angrenzenden Gegenden Norddeutschlands, vol. 1 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), no. 418, pp. 372-73.","A famous master builder and his journeyman, while building the Bamberg Cathedral's tower and the Bamberg Bridge, entered into a wager which could finish first. When the master was almost finished, the journeyman was still far behind, so the latter made a pact with the devil, that he should quickly build the bridge. In return, the devil would receive the first living being to cross the bridge. The devil quickly went to work and was finished within a short time. Then the journeyman fetched a rooster and chased it across the bridge. The devil angrily departed with it. The master builder of the tower was so irritated with the early completion of the bridge that in his dismay he threw himself from the tower.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Bridge at Kentchurch,"Herefordshire, England",NA,"Ella Mary Leather, The Folk-Lore of Herefordshire: Collected from Oral and Printed Sources (Hereford: Jakeman and Carver; London: Sidgwick and Jackson, 1912), p. 164.","Jack [o' Kent] and the devil built the bridge over the Monnow between Kentchurch and Grosmont in a single night. What they built by night fell down by day as long as the bridge remained incomplete, hence the need for haste. The first passenger to pass over the bridge was to belong to the devil, so Jack threw a bone across, and a poor dog ran after it. That dog was all the devil had for his pains. (Hereford: Jakeman and Carver; London: Sidgwick and Jackson, 1912), p. 164.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge (Grimm337),Switzerland,The Grimms' source: 'Oral.' The Reuss River flows from the high Alps near the Saint Gotthard Pass into Lake Urn near the Swiss city of Altdorf.,"Jacob and Wilelm Grimm, 'Teufels-Brücke,' Deutsche Sagen, herausgegeben von den Brüdern Grimm, vol. 1 (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 336, pp. 436-37. In later editions this legend is numbered 337.","A Swiss herdsman who often visited his girlfriend had either to make his way across the Reuss River with great difficulty or to take a long detour in order to see her. It happened that once he was standing on a very high precipice when he spoke out angrily, 'I wish that the devil were here to make me a bridge to the other side!' In an instant the devil was standing beside him, and said, 'If you will promise me the first living thing that walks across it, I will build a bridge for you that you can use from now on to go across and back. The herdsman agreed, and in a few moments the bridge was finished. However, the herdsman drove a chamois across the bridge ahead of himself, and he followed along behind. The deceived devil ripped the animal apart and threw the pieces from the precipice.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge (Parkinson121),"Yorkshire, England",NA,"Thomas Parkinson, Yorkshire Legends and Traditions, as Told by Her Ancient Chroniclers, Her Poets, and Journalists (London: Elliot Stock, 1888), pp. 121-24.","The highway between Pateley Bridge and Grassington crosses, in the parish of Burnsall, the deep dell in which runs the small river Dibb, or Dibble, by a bridge known in legend as the Devil's Bridge. It might reasonably be supposed that Deep-Dell Bridge, or Dibble Bridge, was the correct and desirable designation, but legend and local tradition will by no means have it so, and account for the less pleasant name in the following manner. In the days when Fountain's Abbey was in its prime, a shoemaker and small tenant of part of the abbey lands, named Ralph Calvert, resided at Thorp-sub-Montem, and journeyed twice a year along this road to pay his rent to the abbot, dispose of the fruits of his six months' handiwork, and return the shoes entrusted to him on his previous visit for repair, and bring back with him, on his return, a bag well filled with others that needed his attention. The night before setting out on one of these occasions, he had a fearful dream, in which he struggled with the devil, who, in this wild, rocky ravine, amid unpleasant surroundings, endeavored to thrust Ralph into a bag, similar to the one in which he carried his stock-in-trade. This he and his wife feared boded no good. In the morning, however, he started on his journey, and duly reached the abbey, assisted at the service, did his business with the abbot and brethren, and then started, with his well filled bag, on his return homewards. When he arrived near home, in the deep ravine, where on previous occasions he had found but a small brook which he could easily ford, he now found a mountain torrent, through which he only with difficulty and some danger made his way. Having accomplished the passage, he sat down to rest and to dry his wetted garments. As he sat and contemplated the place, he could not but recall how exactly it corresponded with the spot seen in his dream, and at which the author of evil had tried to bag him. Dwelling on this brought anything but pleasant thoughts, and to drive them away, and to divert his mind, he struck up a familiar song, in which the name of the enemy finds frequent mention, and the refrain of which was: He was unaware of any presence but his own. But, to his alarm, another voice than his added a further line: Ralph thought of his dream. Then he fancied he saw the shadow of a man on the road. Then from a projecting corner of a rock he heard a voice reading over a list of delinquents in the neighborhood, with whom he must remonstrate -- Ralph's own name among the rest. Not to be caught eavesdropping, Ralph feigned sleep. But after a time was aroused by the stranger, and a long conversation ensued, the upshot of which was, after they had entered into a compact of friendship, that Satan informed the shoemaker who he was and inquired of the alarmed man if there was anything that he could do for him. Ralph looked at the swollen torrent and thought of the danger he had lately incurred in crossing it, and of his future journeys that way to the abbey. And then he said, 'I have heard that you are an able architect. I should wish you to build a bridge across this stream. I know you can do it.' At nightfall Ralph reached his home at Thorpe, and related his adventure to his wife, and added, 'In spite of all that is said against him, the Evil One is an honest gentleman, and I have made him promise to build a bridge at the Gill Ford on the road to Pateley. If he fulfils his promise, St. Crispin bless him.' The news of Ralph's adventure and of the promise soon spread among the neighbors, and he had no small amount of village chaff and ridicule to meet before the eventful Saturday -- the fourth day -- arrived. At last it came. Accompanied by thirty or forty of the villagers, Ralph made his way to the dell, where, on arrival, picture their astonishment at the sight! Lo, a beautiful and substantial bridge spanned the abyss! Surveyor, and mason, and priest pronounced it to be perfect. The latter sprinkled it with holy water, caused a cross to be placed at each approach to it, and then declared it to be safe for all Christian people to use. So it remained until the Puritan Minister of Pateley, in the time of the Commonwealth, discerning the story to be a Popish legend, caused the protecting crosses to be removed as idolatrous. After that time, neither the original builder nor any other person seems to have thought fit to keep the bridge in 'good and tenantable' repair, and in time it fell into so disreputable and dangerous a condition, that the liberal and almost magic-working native of the parish -- Sir William Craven, Lord Mayor of London in the reign of the 1st James -- took the matter in hand and built upon the old foundations a more terrestrial, but not less substantial and enduring, structure. Still men call it the Devil's Bridge.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge (Thomas286),Wales,NA,"W. Jenkyn Thomas, The Welsh Fairy Book (London: T. Fisher Unwin, Ltd., [1908], pp. 286-90.","One day in the olden time, old Megan of Llandunach stood by the side of the river Mynach feeling very sorry for herself. The Mynach was in flood, and roared down the wooded dingle in five successive falls, tumbling over three hundred feet in less than no time. Just below the place where Megan was standing, there was a great cauldron in which the water whirled, boiled, and hissed as if troubled by some evil spirit. From the cauldron the river rushed and swirled down a narrow, deep ravine, and if the old woman had had an eye for the beauties of nature, the sight of the seething pot and the long shadowy cleft would have made her feel joyous rather than sorrowful. But Megan at this time cared for none of these things, because her one and only cow was on the wrong side of the ravine, and her thoughts were centered on the horned beast which was cropping the green grass carelessly just as if it made no difference what side of the river it was on. How the wrong-headed animal had got there Megan could not guess, and still less did she know how to get it back. As there was no one else to talk to, she talked to herself. 'Oh dear, what shall I do?' she said. 'What is the matter, Megan?' said a voice behind her. She turned round and saw a man cowled like a monk and with a rosary at his belt. She had not heard anyone coming, but the noise of the waters boiling over and through the rocks, she reflected, might easily have drowned the sound of any footsteps. And in any case, she was so troubled about her cow that she could not stop to wonder how the stranger had come up. 'I am ruined,' said Megan. 'There is my one and only cow, the sole support of my old age, on the other side of the river, and I don't know how to get her back again. Oh dear, oh dear, I am ruined.' 'Don't you worry about that,' said the monk. 'I'll get her back for you.' 'How can you?' asked Megan, greatly surprised. 'I'll tell you,' answered the stranger. 'It is one of my amusements to build bridges, and if you like, I'll throw a bridge across this chasm for you.' 'Well, indeed,' said the old woman, 'nothing would please me better. But how am I to pay you? I am sure you will want a great deal for a job like this, and I am so poor that I have no money to spare, look you, no indeed.' 'I am very easily satisfied,' said the monk. 'Just let me have the first living thing that crosses the bridge after I have finished it, and I shall be content.' Megan agreed to this, and the monk told her to go back to her cottage and wait there until he should call for her. Now, Megan was not half such a fool as she looked, and she had noticed, while talking to the kind and obliging stranger, that there was something rather peculiar about his foot. She had a suspicion, too, that his knees were behind instead of being in front, and while she was waiting for the summons, she thought so hard that it made her head ache. By the time she was halloed for, she had hit upon a plan. She threw some crusts to her little dog to make him follow her, and took a loaf of bread under her shawl to the riverside. 'There's a bridge for you,' said the monk, pointing proudly to a fine span bestriding the yawning chasm. And it really was something to be proud of. 'H'm, yes,' said Megan, looking doubtfully at it. 'Yes, it is a bridge. But is it strong?' 'Strong?' said the builder, indignantly. 'Of course it is strong.' 'Will it hold the weight of this loaf?' asked Megan, bringing the bread out for underneath her shawl. The monk laughed scornfully. 'Hold the weight of this loaf? Throw it on and see. Ha, ha!' So Megan rolled the loaf right across the bridge, and the little black cur scampered after it. 'Yes, it will do,' said Megan. 'And, kind sir, my little dog is the first live thing to cross the bridge. You are welcome to him, and I thank you very much for all the trouble you have taken.' 'Tut, the silly dog is no good to me,' said the stranger, very crossly, and with that he vanished into space. From the smell of brimstone which he had left behind him, Megan knew that, as she had suspected, it was the devil whom she had outwitted. And this is how the Bad Man's Bridge came to be built.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge (Tyrol),Austria,NA,"Marie Alker Günther, Tales and Legends of the Tyrol (London: Chapman and Hall, 1874), pp. 179-81.","In the valley of Montafon, the bridge of the village broke down, or rather the swollen torrent carried it away; and as the parish was anxious to restore it as soon as possible, the villagers of course being unable to pass to and from Schruns, on the other side of the river, for all their daily wants, they applied to the village carpenter, and offered him a large sum of money if he would rebuild the bridge in three days' time. This puzzled the poor fellow beyond description; he had a large family and now his fortune would be made at once; but he saw the impossibility of finishing the work in so short a time, and therefore he begged one day for reflection. Then he set to work to study all day, up to midnight, to find out how he could manage to do the work within the specified time; and as he could find out nothing, he thumped the table with his fist, and called out, 'To the devil with it! I can find out nothing.' In his anger and annoyance he was on the point of going to bed, when all at once a little man wearing a green hat entered the room, and asked, 'Carpenter, wherefore so sad?' and then the carpenter told him all his troubles. The little fellow replied, 'It is very easy to help you. I will build your bridge, and in three days it shall be finished, but only on the condition that the first soul out of your house who passes over the bridge shall be mine.' On hearing this, the carpenter, who then knew with whom he had to do, shuddered with horror, though the large sum of money enticed him, and he thought to himself, 'After all, I will cheat the devil,' and so he agreed to the contract. Three days afterwards the bridge was complete, and the devil stood in the middle, awaiting his prey. After having remained there for many days, the carpenter at last appeared himself, and at that sight the devil jumped with joy; but the carpenter was driving one of his goats, and as he approached the bridge, he pushed her on before him, and called out, 'There you have the first soul out of my house,' and the devil seized upon the goat. But, oh, grief and shame! First disappointed, and then enraged, he dragged the poor goat so hard by her tail that it came out, and then off he flew, laughed at and mocked by all who saw him. Since that time it is that goats have such short tails.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge (Wintemberg),Switzerland/France,NA,"W. J. Wintemberg, 'German Folk-Tales Collected in Canada,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 19, no. 74 (July - September 1906), p. 242.","The bridge builder, being aware of the extreme gullibility of the fiend, consented, but outwitted him, for as soon as the bridge was completed, he brought a black goat, and placing it before him, pushed it across the bridge. Beelzebub's imp, in his rage at being outwitted, grasped the goat by the horns, and hurled it through the floor of the bridge. Every old Alsatian who comes from this part of Alsace will solemnly aver that the hole is still there, because all efforts at repairing the breach are frustrated by Beelzebub's imps.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge at Kirkby,England,NA,"Edmund Bogg, A Thousand Miles of Wandering along the Roman Wall, the Old Border Region, Lakeland, and Ribblesdale (Leeds: Edmund Bogg, 1898), pp. 229-30.","The Devil's Bridge, a remarkable structure, composed of three beautifully fluted arches, and so named from having, it is said, been built by his Satanic majesty; if so it is certainly inconsistent and in direct contradiction to his general character, and the good that has come out of evil in this instance is most remarkable. Respecting the building, the legend which nearly all Kirkby people will tell you, is as follows: A cow belonging to a poor woman had strayed across the river at some convenient wading place, and not having returned with the town herd at milking time, the woman went forth to seek her. In the meantime the water had risen considerably, and, not being able to cross the river, the woman was in a dilemma, for her good man, a laborer, and her cow, were on the opposite side. At this juncture the devil, in human form, appeared on the other bank, no doubt assuming the soft guile of the tempter, promised to build a bridge, on condition that the first living thing which passed over should become his lawful prize; to this the woman gladly assented. Darkness deepened rapidly -- necessary for diabolical thought and deed, which in this instance was frustrated by the forethought of the woman, whose husband or herself had been singled out for the victim which was to propitiate the building of the bridge. At the appointed hour she returned, bringing with her a dog, and a delicious morsel wherewith to tempt it. The bridge was complete, and there stood his sable majesty, anxiously awaiting his victim. Suddenly, across the bridge, she threw the tempting morsel, and after it sprang the dog. The devil, seeing how cleverly he had been outwitted, gave forth a terrific howl, which aroused all the inhabitants in the old town, who at once rushed down to the river to ascertain the cause, thinking there had been an earthquake, instead of which they were agreeably astonished to find a substantial bridge, across which the woman, accompanied by her husband and dog, were driving the cow. And there still stands the remarkable structure to witness or attest the truth, as story says, if I lie, and as a further proof, below the bridge is still to be seen the Devil's Neck Collar -- a rock with a large perforation, which he lost from his neck in that wild unearthly plunge from the bridge, on finding his hellish scheme thwarted. Thousand Miles of Wandering along the Roman Wall, the Old Border Region, Lakeland, and Ribblesdale (Leeds: Edmund Bogg, 1898),",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge in Cardiganshire,Wales,NA,"Wirt Sikes, British Goblins: Welsh Folk-Lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends, and Traditions, 2nd edition (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1880), pp. 205-206.","Best known among the natural objects in various parts of Wales which are connected with the devil in popular lore, is the Devil's Bridge, in Cardiganshire. Associated with this bridge are several legends, which derive their greatest interest from their intrinsic evidences of an antiquity in common with the same legends in other lands. The guidebooks of the region, like guidebooks everywhere, in their effort to avoid being led into unwarranted statement, usually indulge in playfully sarcastic references to these ancient tales. They are much older, however, than the bridge itself can possibly be. The devil's activity in bridge-building is a myth more ancient than the medieval devil of our acquaintance. The building story of the Devil's Bridge in Cardiganshire runs briefly thus: An old woman who had lost her cow spied it on the other side of the ravine, and was in great trouble about it, not knowing how to get over where the animal was. The devil, taking advantage of her distress, offered to throw a bridge over the ravine, so that she might cross and get her cow; but he stipulated that the first living creature to cross the bridge should be his. The old woman agreed; the bridge was built; and the devil waited to see her cross. She drew a crust of bread from her pocket, threw it over, and her little black dog flew after it. 'The dog's yours, sir,' said the dame; and Satan was discomfited. In the story told of the old bridge over the Main at Frankfort, a bridge-contractor and his troubles are substituted for the old woman and her cow; instead of a black dog a live rooster appears, driven in front of him by the contractor. The Welsh Satan seems to have received his discomfiture good-naturedly enough; in the German tale he tears the fowl to pieces in his rage. In Switzerland, every reader knows the story told of the devil's bridge in the St. Gotthard pass. A new bridge has taken the place, for public use, of the old bridge on the road to Andermatt, and to the dangers of the crumbling masonry are added superstitious terrors concerning the devil's power to catch any one crossing after dark. The old Welsh bridge has been in like manner superseded by a modern structure; but I think no superstition like the last noted is found at Hafod. The Devil's Bridge is twelve miles from Aberystwyth; it is over the Afon Mynach just before its junction with the Rheidol. The Mynach cataract consists of four leaps, making a total descent of 210 feet. The bridge has been thrown across a chasm 114 feet above the first fall and 324 feet above the bottom of the cataract. The original bridge was constructed by the monks of Strata Florida, at what time is unknown, but legend says it was built by the devil. Old Megan Llandunach, of Pont-y-Mynach, Had lost her only cow; Across the ravine the cow was seen. But to get it she could not tell how. In this dilemma the Evil One appeared to her cowled as a monk, and with a rosary at his belt, and offered to cast a bridge across the chasm if she would promise him the first living being that should pass over it when complete. To this she gladly consented. The bridge was thrown across the ravine, and the Evil One stood beyond bowing and beckoning to the old woman to come over and try it. But she was too clever to do that She had noticed his left leg as he was engaged on the construction, and saw that the knee was behind in place of in front, and for a foot he had a hoof. In her pocket she fumbled, a crust out tumbled, She called her little black cur; The crust over she threw, the dog after it flew, Says she, 'The dog's yours, crafty sir!' One day in the olden time, old Megan of Llandunach stood by the side of the river Mynach feeling very sorry for herself. The Mynach was in flood, and roared down the wooded dingle in five successive falls, tumbling over three hundred feet in less than no time. Just below the place where Megan was standing, there was a great cauldron in which the water whirled, boiled, and hissed as if troubled by some evil spirit. From the cauldron the river rushed and swirled down a narrow, deep ravine, and if the old woman had had an eye for the beauties of nature, the sight of the seething pot and the long shadowy cleft would have made her feel joyous rather than sorrowful. But Megan at this time cared for none of these things, because her one and only cow was on the wrong side of the ravine, and her thoughts were centered on the horned beast which was cropping the green grass carelessly just as if it made no difference what side of the river it was on. How the wrong-headed animal had got there Megan could not guess, and still less did she know how to get it back. As there was no one else to talk to, she talked to herself. 'Oh dear, what shall I do?' she said. 'What is the matter, Megan?' said a voice behind her. She turned round and saw a man cowled like a monk and with a rosary at his belt. She had not heard anyone coming, but the noise of the waters boiling over and through the rocks, she reflected, might easily have drowned the sound of any footsteps. And in any case, she was so troubled about her cow that she could not stop to wonder how the stranger had come up. 'I am ruined,' said Megan. 'There is my one and only cow, the sole support of my old age, on the other side of the river, and I don't know how to get her back again. Oh dear, oh dear, I am ruined.' 'Don't you worry about that,' said the monk. 'I'll get her back for you.' 'How can you?' asked Megan, greatly surprised. 'I'll tell you,' answered the stranger. 'It is one of my amusements to build bridges, and if you like, I'll throw a bridge across this chasm for 'Well, indeed,' said the old woman, 'nothing would please me better. But how am I to pay you? I am sure you will want a great deal for a job like this, and I am so poor that I have no money to spare, look you, no indeed.' 'I am very easily satisfied,' said the monk. 'Just let me have the first living thing that crosses the bridge after I have finished it, and I shall be content.' Megan agreed to this, and the monk told her to go back to her cottage and wait there until he should call for her. Now, Megan was not half such a fool as she looked, and she had noticed, while talking to the kind and obliging stranger, that there was something rather peculiar about his foot. She had a suspicion, too, that his knees were behind instead of being in front, and while she was waiting for the summons, she thought so hard that it made her head ache. By the time she was halloed for, she had hit upon a plan. She threw some crusts to her little dog to make him follow her, and took a loaf of bread under her shawl to the riverside. 'There's a bridge for you,' said the monk, pointing proudly to a fine span bestriding the yawning chasm. And it really was something to be proud of. 'H'm, yes,' said Megan, looking doubtfully at it. 'Yes, it is a bridge. But is it strong?' 'Strong?' said the builder, indignantly. 'Of course it is strong.' 'Will it hold the weight of this loaf?' asked Megan, bringing the bread out for underneath her shawl. The monk laughed scornfully. 'Hold the weight of this loaf? Throw it on and see. Ha, ha!' So Megan rolled the loaf right across the bridge, and the little black cur scampered after it. 'Yes, it will do,' said Megan. 'And, kind sir, my little dog is the first live thing to cross the bridge. You are welcome to him, and I thank you very much for all the trouble you have taken.' 'Tut, the silly dog is no good to me,' said the stranger, very crossly, and with that he vanished into space. From the smell of brimstone which he had left behind him, Megan knew that, as she had suspected, it was the devil whom she had outwitted. And this is how the Bad Man's Bridge came to be built. Fisher Unwin, Ltd., [1908], pp. 286-90.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge in Lake Galenbeck,Germany,Bartsch's source: Fräulein W. Zimmermann from Neustrelitz.,"Karl Bartsch, 'Die Teufelsbrücke im Gahlenbeker See,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], vol. 1 (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), no. 555, p. 400.","In Lake Galenbeck (in the vicinity of Friedland) there is a tongue of land, probably artificial, that stretches about to the middle of the lake. It is called the devil's bridge, and is said to be the remains of a bridge started, but never completed, by the devil. A shepherd had to drive his herd completely around the lake in order to reach his pasture. This annoyed him, and one day he wished with a curse that a bridge went across the lake. He had scarcely uttered this wish when a man appeared before him. The man promised to build a bridge in one night, before the rooster crowed three times, under the condition that the shepherd would then belong to him. The shepherd entered into this agreement. That evening when he arrived home, he told his wife what had happened. She said nothing, but at midnight she went to the chicken coop and awakened the rooster, who thought that it was already morning, and crowed three times. The devil heard this. He was not finished with his work, and angrily flew off through the air without completing the bridge.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Devil's Bridge in Martorell,Catalonia,NA,"Pont del Diable. Accessed December 11, 2020.","The legend of the Devil's Bridge is common in Catalonia, and there are many structures bearing its name. The most well-known is the Devil's Bridge in Martorell. According to legend: The stream was high one night and a peasant woman had to cross it and she did not know how. The devil appeared before her and promised to build a bridge and finish it before the rooster's crow at the break of day, if she gave him her soul in exchange. The peasant agreed. But when there were just a few stones left, she threw a bucket of water on the poor sleeping rooster. With the sudden, cold shock the rooster started crowing. The devil, believing it was already day, left hurriedly, leaving the bridge incomplete. Since he didn't hold up his end of the deal, the peasant woman didn't have to deliver her soul and was able to cross the river untroubled.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Legend of the Devil's Bridge,Tuscany,NA,"Italy Magazine. Accessed December 11, 2020.","Straddling the Serchio river by the small town of Borgo a Mozzano in northern Tuscany, the striking Ponte della Maddalena, also known as the Devil's Bridge, is shrouded in mystery and, for this reason, is a source of fascination for many visitors who travel to the area just to see it. According to legend, the head construction worker supervising the building of the bridge was worried about not completing the work on time. Thus, he made a pact with the devil: in exchange for his help to finish the bridge in one night, the devil demanded the soul of the first passerby to cross the bridge. However, feeling remorseful about giving a person's soul to the devil, the construction worked consulted with the local priest and they decided to have a dog cross the bridge first. Furious, the devil plunged into the river with the dog, never to be seen again. It is said that the dog, a white Maremma sheepdog, is sometimes seen walking on the bridge in the evenings at the end of October, and that he is the devil still looking for the soul of the head construction worker. Probably commissioned by the Countess Matilda of Tuscany in the 11th century, the Ponte della Maddalena, a remarkable example of medieval engineering, used to be on the Via Francigena, one of the most important pilgrimage routes in the Middle Ages. It took on the name of Ponte della Maddalena around 1500, because a statue of Mary Magdalene stood at the foot of the bridge in an oratory (now the statue is in the parish church of Borgo a Mozzano).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Sachsenhäuser Bridge at Frankfurt,Germany,"The Grimms' source: 'Oral, from Frankfurt.' Link to a German-language encyclopedia article about Die Alte Brücke in Frankfurt am Main.","Jacob and Wilelm Grimm, 'Die Sachsenhäuser Brücke zu Frankfurt,' Deutsche Sagen, herausgegeben von den Brüdern Grimm, vol. 1 (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 185, pp. 267-68. In later editions this legend is numbered 186.","There are two arches in the middle of the Sachsenhäuser Bridge. At the top they are closed partially only with wood which, in time of war, can easily be removed so that the connection can be destroyed without blasting. The following legend is told about this bridge: The builder had agreed to complete the bridge by a certain date. As the date approached he saw that it would be impossible to meet the deadline. With only two days remaining, in his fear he called upon the devil and asked him for help. The devil appeared to him and offered to complete the bridge during the last night if the builder would deliver to him the first living being that crossed the bridge. The contract was settled, and during the last night the devil completed the bridge. In the darkness no human eye saw how he did it. At the break of day the builder came and drove a rooster across the bridge ahead of himself, thus delivering it to the devil. However, the latter had expected a human soul, and when he saw that he had been deceived he angrily grabbed the rooster, ripped it apart, and threw it through the bridge, thus causing the two holes that to the present day cannot be mortared shut. Any repair work that is completed during the day just falls apart the next night. A golden rooster on an iron bar still stands as the bridge's emblem.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1191,The Taugl Bridge,Austria,"The Taugl is a white-water river in the State of Salzburg, Austria.","Source (books.google.com): Rudolf von Freisauff von Neudegg, 'Die Tauglbrücke,' Salzburger Volkssagen (Vienna, Pest, and Leipzig: A. Hartleben's Verlag, 1880), pp. 510-11. Source (Internet Archive): Rudolf von Freisauff von Neudegg, 'Die Tauglbrücke,' Salzburger Volkssagen (Vienna, Pest, and Leipzig: A. Hartleben's Verlag, 1880), pp. 510-11.","According to local tradition this bridge is not of human construction, but rather the work of the devil. Thus all who walk over it cross themselves so that the Evil One cannot harm them. Eighteen hundred years ago the devil made a pact with a miller's wife, promising her that he would build a bridge over the Taugl. If he could accomplish this before she gave birth to the child that she was then carrying under her heart, then this child would be his. When the child was born the bridge was finished except for one final stone that to this day is still missing in the arch. Thus the devil was defeated. Not wanting to return to hell empty-handed, he declared, 'I have lost the child, but I shall take the first being that passes over the bridge.' The miller's wife, a very clever woman, heard this and chased her big tomcat over the bridge. The devil grabbed the cat and took it with him into that deep hole where the Taugl flows downward, foaming with rage.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1791,Dividing the Souls (Parsons177),"North Carolina, USA","Parsons' source: Sam Cruse, about 30.","Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Tales from Guilford County, North Carolina,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 30, (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), no. 12, p. 177.","Go into de graveyard. Say, 'We'll divide what we got. You take this one, an' I'll take the other.' They divided all dey had in de graveyard. Then said, 'We'll go up to de gate-pos' an' divide. You take the black, an' I'll take the white.' Man on outside goin' along, an' he heard 'em talkin'. An' he become frighten. An' he went back to his neighbor's house where there was an ol' man had the rheumatism. An' he said, 'You go with me. I'll tote you.' Goes on with him, an' he says, 'Jesus Christ an' the Devil is up there dividin' up the dead.' An' when they got along near the gate-post says, 'You take the black one, an' I'll take the white one.' So he throws this white man down, an' he run off. An' the ol' man beat him back home. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1791,Dividing the Souls (Parsons215),"Virginia, USA","Parsons' source: Ruth Holmes, who heard the story from her grandmother from Charlotteville, Virginia.","Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 30, (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), no. 8, p. 215.","One of the men says, 'Where shall we go to count the fish?' The other man says, 'Oh, we'll find a place.' So they went on till they come to a graveyard. So they stopped. They went in an' started a-countin', 'One for me, an' one for you.' They had dropped two fish on the road. They kept on saying, 'One for me an' one for you, two for me an' two for you.' One of the preacher's friends come along. He stopped an' listened, an' they were in their fifties. He thought the Devil and the Lord was in the graveyard dividin' up people. So he goes to the preacher's house. And he said, 'Reverend John, your preachin's true, but the Devil an' the Lord's in the graveyard dividin' up people.' Says, 'How do you know? I don't believe you.' Says, 'Well, get your hat and come an' see.' When they had got to the graveyard, they heard the two fishermen say, 'Let us go after the other two!' So they both ran home as fast as they could go.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1791,Mother Elston's Bag of Nuts,England (Devonshire),NA,"P. F. S. Amery, ed., 'Seventeenth Report of the Committee on Devonshire Folk-Lore,' Report and Transactions of the Devonshire Association for the Advancement of Science, Literature, and Art, vol. 32 (Plymouth: W. Brendon and Son, 1900), pp. 87-88.","Mother Elston used to go from place to place selling nuts, and before she died she begged that a bag of them might be put in her coffin. Her wishes were fulfilled, and she was buried, and then it began to be said her ghost used to sit on her grave and crack the nuts. Many people heard it, and the clergyman of the parish was told. He said that, if at any time it was made known to him that the ghost was there, to be seen or heard, he would come at once and lay it. One fine night, after a neighbouring 'revel,' three men rather the worse for drink came by, and saw some sheep in a field close to the churchyard. The thought struck them that here was a good opportunity for helping themselves, and while one man went into the church porch to keep watch, the others went to steal the sheep. Now, the man in the porch had brought a lot of nuts from the revel, and while waiting he began to eat them. Just then the sexton came by and heard nuts being cracked, sure enough. So off he ran to the vicarage to fetch the parson, who agreed to come at once. Unfortunately he was afflicted with St. Vitus' dance and could not walk, being obliged to go in a perambulator. 'Have you my perambulator?' said the parson. 'No, sir; I don't naw where he's to,' replied the sexton. 'Never mind; this little way you can carry me on your back,' said the parson. So off they set, and just inside the churchyard they heard the nuts still being cracked. The sexton stopped. 'Go a little nearer,' urged the parson. The sexton went a little nearer. 'Go a little nearer still'; and the sexton still went a little nearer. Then the parson began saying something to lay the ghost. But the man in the porch thought they were one of his mates with a sheep. 'Is he fat?' he called. And the sexton was so frightened that he dropped the parson and ran away as fast as he could. But St. Vitus' dance comes with a fright and goes with a fright, they say, and the parson was quite cured from that minute, and could walk as well as ever he could after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1791,The Bag of Nuts,England (Derbyshire),NA,"Sidney Oldall Addy, Household Tales with Other Traditional Remains: Collected in the Counties of York, Lincoln, Derby, and Nottingham (London: David Nutt, 1895), no. 2, pp. 4-5.","It happened once that two young men met in a churchyard, about eight o'clock in the evening. One of them said to the other, 'Where are you going?' The other answered, 'I'm going to get a bag of nuts that lies underneath my mother's head in this churchyard. But tell me, where are you going?' He said, 'I'm going to steal a fat sheep out of this field. Wait here till I come back.' Then the other man got the nuts that were under his dead mother's head, and stood in the church porch cracking them. In those days it was the custom to ring a bell at a certain time in the evening, and just as the man was cracking the nuts the sexton came into the churchyard to ring it. But when he heard the cracking of the nuts in the porch he was afraid, and ran to tell the parson, who only laughed at him, and said, 'Go and ring, fool.' However, the sexton was so afraid, that he said he would not go back unless the parson would go with him. After much persuasion the parson agreed to go, but he had the gout very badly, and the sexton had to carry him on his back. When the man in the porch who was cracking the nuts saw the sexton coming into the churchyard with the parson on his back he thought it was the man who had just gone out to steal the sheep, and had returned with a sheep on his back. So he bawled out, 'Is it a fat one?' When the sexton heard this he was so frightened that he threw the parson down and said, 'Aye, and thou canst take it if thou lik'st.' So the sexton ran away as fast as he could, and left the parson to shift for himself. But the parson ran home as fast as the sexton.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1791,The Miller and the Tailor,England,NA,"W. Carew Hazlitt, Tales and Legends of National Origin or Widely Current in England from Early Times (London: Swan, Sonnenschein, and Company, 1899), pp. 454-58.","The subjoined story is from the same source as 'John Adroyns' and the ' Maltman of Colebrook,' and is at once more elaborate and more dramatic. It is in our estimation one of the drollest and best-sustained narrations of the kind in our language. The plot is slightly involved, but it is managed and developed with rare skill and felicity. The treatment of this and other narrations and pleasantries in the 'Hundred Merry Tales' (1526), tends to corroborate the notion which we broached in 1887, that Sir Thomas More had a share in compiling the volume, which combines with unusual literary merit a singular freedom from grossness, and was evidently under the inspiration of some masculine intellect with a precocious sense of humour and a descriptive faculty at that time almost unique. Like the preceding relation, the particulars here found were by no means improbably derived from an actual fact, although the writer doubtless permitted himself more or less license in the way of romantic embellishment. [Note by Hazlitt] There was a certain rich farmer in a village, who marvellously loved nuts, and planted trees of filberts and other nuts in his orchard, which through his whole life he cared for well; and when he died it appeared that his executors were to engage to bury with him in the grave a bag of nuts under pain of losing their executorship. So these executors did as they were bidden. It so happened that on the very night after the burial a miller in a white coat came to the dead man's garden to steal a bag of nuts; and as he went along he met with a tailor in a black coat, an unthrifty fellow, and discovered to him his scheme. The tailor confessed in his turn that that same night he planned stealing a sheep. It was determined between them that each should effect his purpose, and that they should meet, later on, in the church porch, the one who came first to tarry for the other. The miller gathered his nuts, and was the first to reach the porch; and while he waited for the tailor, he sat down and cracked nuts. It being about nine o'clock, the sexton came to ring the curfew; and when he looked, and saw a man in the porch dressed in white and cracking nuts, he weened that it was the farmer risen from his grave, cracking the nuts that had been buried along with him, and sped home in all haste and told a cripple, who lived in the same house what he had beheld. This cripple, when he heard the sexton so speak, reproved him, and said that, were it in his power to go to the place, he would conjure the spirit. 'By my faith, if thou art not afraid, I will carry thee on my back,' said the sexton. And the sexton took the cripple on his back, and brought him to the churchyard; whereupon the miller in the porch, seeing one approach with something on his back, and weening it had been the tailor with the sheep, rose up, and came toward them, saying, 'Is he fat? Is he fat?' The sexton, hearing these words, cast down the cripple, and said, 'Fat or lean, take him as he is,' and vanished; and the cripple by miracle was made whole, and ran as fast as the sexton, or faster. The miller, perceiving that there were two, and that one ran from the other, thought that one was the owner of the sheep and had espied the tailor stealing it; and lest somebody might have seen him steal the nuts out of the orchard, he left the shells behind him, and hied home to his mill. Presently came the tailor with the sheep on his back to seek him, as it had been arranged; and when he saw nought but nutshells, he concluded, as was indeed the truth, that the miller had gone home. So, throwing his sheep once more over his shoulder, he walked toward the mill. Meanwhile the sexton, when he ran away, went not to his own house, but to the parish priest, to whom he shewed how the spirit of the dead man was seated in the church porch eating nuts; and they both proceeded back together to the place, that the priest might conjure the spirit. The priest put on his stole and surplice, and took holy water with him; and as they went along, the tailor with the white sheep on his back met them, and in the dusk, taking the priest in his white surplice to be the miller in his white coat, shouted to him, 'By God! I have him! I have him!' meaning the sheep which he had stolen. But the priest, seeing the tailor all in black and a white thing on his shoulder, imagined it to be the devil bearing away the spirit of the man that had just been buried, and ran away at full speed, the sexton following at his heels. The tailor judged that the two had been following him to take him for stealing the sheep, and thought that the miller might have got into trouble for stealing the nuts. So he went on toward the mill, to see if he could be of any use to the miller, and to hear what news. When he rapped at the mill-door, the miller called out, 'Who is there?' The tailor answered and said, 'By God! I have caught one of them, and made him sure, and tied him fast by the legs.' Then the miller feared that the tailor had been taken and secured by the constable, and that he had now come to fetch him away for stealing the nuts; wherefore he ran out at a backdoor as fast as ever he could. The tailor heard the door open, and going to the other side of the mill saw the miller posting off; and for a few moments he stood musing there with his sheep on his back. The parish priest and the sexton, who had been hiding near the mill for fear of the spirit of the dead man, presently caught sight of the black tailor and the white sheep again, and fled in dismay, and the priest, not knowing the ground, leapt into a ditch, where the mud almost reached his chin. Then the tailor, perceiving that the miller ran one way and the sexton another, and that the priest cried for assistance, and supposing that it was the constable, who had come at last to arrest him, cast down the sheep, and also disappeared. Thus each man suffered misfortune, because some had done what was wrong and others what was foolish, and all were afraid without cause; and a good deal was owing to the time when it happened, for it was in the night that all this strange game of errors was played.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1791,Tom Daly and the Nut-Eating Ghost,Ireland,NA,"Jeremiah Curtin, Tales of the Fairies and of the Ghost World: Collected from Oral Tradition in South-West Munster (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1895), pp. 54-57.","The value of the next story (which was told by the blind man), apart from the comic in its form and con tents, is the fact that nuts are buried for the godfather to eat after death. This is an interesting survival of primitive Gaelic belief. [Note by Curtin] Tom Daly lived between Kenmare and Skneem, but nearer to Kenmare, and had an only son, who was called Tom, after the father. When the son was eighteen years old Tom Daly died, leaving a widow and this son. The wife was paralysed two years before Tom's death, and could rise out of the bed only as she was taken out, but as the fire was near the bed she could push a piece of turf into it if the turf was left at hand. Tom Daly while alive was in the employ of a gentleman living at Drummond Castle. Young Tom got the father's place, and he looked on his godfather as he would on his own father, for the father and godfather had been great friends always, and Tom's mother was as fond of the godfather as she was of her own husband. Four years after old Tom died the godfather followed him. He was very fond of chestnuts, and when he came to die he asked his friends to put a big wooden dish of them in his coffin, so he might come at the nuts in the next world. They carried out the man's wishes. The godfather was buried, and the bedridden widow mourned for him as much as for her own husband. The young man continued to work for the gentleman at Drummond Castle, and in the winter it was often late in the evening before he could come home. There was a shortcut from the gentleman's place through a grove and past the graveyard. Young Tom was going home one winter night, the moon was shining very brightly. While passing the graveyard he saw a man on a big tomb that was in it, and he cracking nuts. Young Daly saw that it was on his godfather's tomb the man was, and when he remembered the nuts that were buried with him he believed in one minute that it was the godfather who was before him. He was greatly in dread then, and ran off as fast as ever his legs could carry him. When he reached home he was out of breath and panting. 'What is on you,' asked the mother, 'and to be choking for breath?' 'Sure I saw my godfather sitting on the tomb and he eating the nuts that were buried with him.' 'Bad luck to you,' said the mother; 'don't be belying the dead, for it is as great a sin to tell one lie on the dead as ten on the living.' 'God knows,' said Tom, 'that I'd not belie my godfather, and 'tis he that is in it; and hadn't I enough time to know him before he died?' 'Do you say in truth, Tom, that 'tis your godfather?' 'As sure as you are my mother there before me 'tis my godfather that's in the graveyard cracking nuts.' 'Bring me to him, for the mercy of God, till I ask him about your own father in the other world.' 'I'll not do that,' said Tom. 'What a queer thing it would be to bring you to the dead.' 'Isn't it better to go, Tom dear, and speak to him? Ask about your father, and know is he suffering in the other world. If he is, we can relieve him with masses for his soul.' Tom agreed at last, and, as the mother was a cripple, all he could do was to put a sheet around her and take her on his back. He went then towards the graveyard. There was a great thief living not far from Kenmare, and he came that night towards the estate of the gentleman where Tom was working. The gentleman had a couple of hundred fat sheep that were grazing. The thief made up his mind to have one of the sheep, and he sent an apprentice boy that he had to catch one, and said that he'd keep watch on the top of the tomb. As he had some nuts in his pockets, the thief began to crack them. The boy went for the sheep, but before he came back the thief saw Tom Daly, with his mother on his back. Thinking that it was his apprentice with the sheep, he called out, 'Is she fat?' Tom Daly, thinking it was the ghost asking about the mother, dropped her and said, 'Begor, then, she is, and heavy!' Away with him, then, as fast as ever his two legs could carry him, leaving the mother behind. She, forgetting her husband and thinking the ghost would kill and eat her, jumped up, ran home like a deer, and was there as soon as her son. 'God spare you, mother, how could you come!' cried Tom, 'and be here as soon as myself?' 'Sure I moved like a blast of March wind,' said the old woman; ''tis the luckiest ride I had in my life, for out of the fright the good Lord gave me my legs again.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,Black Robin,Wales,NA,"W. Jenkyn Thomas, The Welsh Fairy Book (London: T. Fisher Unwin, [1908], pp. 296-98.","There was once an old man in North Wales called Robin Ddu, or Black Robin. He pretended to be a wizard, and though he had no magical power, he was so cunning that he made people believe he had, and his fame spread over the whole of Wales. A lady in the Vale of Towy lost three precious gems. They had been given to her by a dead sister, and she valued them all the more on that account. Every search was made for them, but they could not be found. The lady had not heard of the Well of Llanbedrog. (By means of that it is quite easy to discover who has stolen your property. All you have to do is to kneel by it, and after throwing in a bit of bread, name all whom you suspect. When the thief's name is mentioned, the bread sinks.) But she had heard of Black Robin, and at last she decided to send for him. She dispatched a servant to North Wales to offer him fifty pounds if he would restore her lost diamonds to her, and Robin traveled south with the messenger. When he arrived, he said he would not begin his work unless fifty pounds were given to him beforehand. 'Fifty pounds is a lot of money,' said the lady. 'I should like to test your power before giving it you.' To this Robin reluctantly agreed. The lady put a tame robin redbreast under a dish on the table. Sending for the supposed magician, she asked him to say what was under the vessel. He did not know what to say or do, and thought the best thing he could do was to confess his ignorance. 'Robin is caught,' he said. Thinking he referred to the bird and not to himself, the lady was astounded at what she regarded as a wonderful display of power, and Robin was too cunning to confess. The money was paid over, and the process of finding the gems began. First of all he inquired carefully into all the circumstances of the disappearance of the gems, cross-examining all the inmates of the house minutely. This investigation convinced him that one of the servants had stolen them, but for some time he could not find out the actual thief. One day, as he was taking the air with one of the menservants, he happened to enter the churchyard. The sexton in digging a grave had come across a quantity of old bones, among them being a skull. Robin took the skull back with him to his room, and his startled companion told the servants' hall about it. Then Robin called all the servants to him, and looking very stern, 'Tomorrow night,' said he, 'I will summon a legion of devils, and they will punish the guilty with all the tortures of hell. But the innocent shall not suffer with the guilty. Take these,' and with this he handed to each a tooth which he had wrenched from the skull. 'By Friday morning' (it was then Wednesday) 'the guilty, after suffering unspeakable anguish and pain, will be as dead as the body from which these teeth have been taken. But I will not invoke my devils if the gems are brought to me before midnight, nor will I disclose to any living soul who took them.' Sure enough, before midnight on Thursday a trembling maidservant brought the diamonds to his room. The next thing to devise was how to restore them to their owner without disclosing the manner in which hey had been recovered, and at the same time in such a way as to reflect credit on himself as a magician. Looking out of his window in the morning he saw a flock of geese feeding in a field not far from the mansion. Going out he took with him a small piece of bread, in which he placed the stones. He threw the piece of bread to the gander, which at once greedily swallowed it. Some time after, summoning the lady, 'Kill that gander,' he said, 'and you will find inside him your lost treasure.' This was done and the diamonds were found. 'They were dropped on the floor and accidentally swept out with the dust,' he explained, 'and this greedy bird swallowed them. By means of the skull which the sexton dug out of the grave on Wednesday I was able to divine the mystery.' Fisher Unwin, [1908], pp. 296-98.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,Crab,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 109, pp. 314-16.","There was once a king who had lost a valuable ring. He looked for it everywhere, but could not find it. So he issued a proclamation that if any astrologer could tell him where it was he would be richly rewarded. A poor peasant by the name of Crab heard of the proclamation. He could neither read nor write, but took it into his head that he wanted to be the astrologer to find the king's ring. So he went and presented himself to the king, to whom he said, 'Your majesty must know that I am an astrologer, although you see me so poorly dressed. I know that you have lost a ring and I will try by study to find out where it is.' 'Very well,' said the king, 'and when you have found it, what reward must I give you?' 'That is at your discretion, your majesty.' 'Go, then, study, and we shall see what kind of an astrologer you turn out to be.' He was conducted to a room, in which he was to be shut up to study. It contained only a bed and a table on which were a large book and writing materials. Crab seated himself at the table and did nothing but turn over the leaves of the book and scribble the paper so that the servants who brought him his food thought him a great man. They were the ones who had stolen the ring, and from the severe glances that the peasant cast at them whenever they entered, they began to fear that they would be found out. They made him endless bows and never opened their mouths without calling him 'Mr. Astrologer.' Crab, who, although illiterate, was, as a peasant, cunning, all at once imagined that the servants must know about the ring, and this is the way his suspicions were confirmed. He had been shut up in his room turning over his big book and scribbling his paper for a month, when his wife came to visit him. He said to her, 'Hide yourself under the bed, and when a servant enters, say, 'That is one.' When another comes, say, 'That is two,' and so on.' The woman hid herself. The servants came with the dinner, and hardly had the first on entered when a voice from under the bed said, 'That is one.' The second one entered; the voice said, 'That is two,' and so on. The servants were frightened at hearing that voice, for they did not know where it came from, and held a consultation. One of them said, 'We are discovered. If the astrologer denounces us to the king as thieves, we are lost.' 'Do you know what we must do?' said another. 'Let us hear.' 'We must go to the astrologer and tell him frankly that we stole the ring, and ask him not to betray us, and present him with a purse of money. Are you willing?' 'Perfectly.' So they went in harmony to the astrologer, and making him a lower bow than usual, one of them began, 'Mr. Astrologer, you have discovered that we stole the ring. We are poor people and if you reveal it to the king, we are undone. So we beg you not to betray us, and accept this purse of money.' Crab took the purse and then added, 'I will not betray you, but you must do what I tell you, if you wish to save your lives. Take the ring and make that turkey in the courtyard swallow it, and leave the rest to me.' The servants were satisfied to do so and departed with a low bow. The next day Crab went to the king and said to him, 'Your majesty must know that after having toiled over a month I have succeeded in discovering where the ring has gone to.' 'Where is it, then?' asked the king. 'A turkey has swallowed it.' 'A turkey? Very well, let us see.' They went for the turkey, opened it, and found the ring inside. The king, amazed, presented the astrologer with a large purse of money and invited him to a banquet. Among the other dishes, there was brought on the table a plate of crabs. Crabs must then have been very rare, because only the king and a few others knew their name. Turning to the peasant the king said, 'You, who are an astrologer, must be able to tell me the name of these things which are in this dish.' The poor astrologer was very much puzzled, and, as if speaking to himself, but in such a way that the others heard him, he muttered, 'Ah! Crab, Crab, what a plight you are in!' All who did not know that his name was Crab rose and proclaimed him the greatest astrologer in the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,Doctor and Detective,Denmark,NA,"J. Christian Bay, Danish Folk Tales (New York and London: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1899), pp. 111-18.","There was once an old farmer who had a great deal of turf, which he sold to customers in town. One day, when he drove to town with a large wagonload, he chanced to meet a doctor. This worthy man came walking along in a stately manner, with a long pipe in his mouth, a cane in his hand, and a doctor's hat on his head. Under his arm he had a thick doctor-book. He was wrapped in a long, loose mantle. The farmer tipped his hat reverently, whereupon the doctor addressed him and said that he would like to buy the turf. They talked back and forth for some time, and finally came to an agreement in regard to the price. The farmer was to have the long mantle, the pipe and the cane, the doctor's hat and the book, and the doctor was to receive the turf. The bargain was closed. The farmer secured the doctor's articles and the doctor the farmer's turf, and then each went his own way. It was late before the farmer returned home to his wife. She asked him at once if he had made a good bargain. When he produced the entire doctor's outfit she was not at all pleased, but wept, and asked, plaintively, how they would now obtain their bread and butter, since he had received no money for the turf. Her husband did his best to comfort her, saying that in a little while they would have all that they needed, for now he had decided to take up a doctor's profession. He put on the mantle and the doctor's hat, and with the long pipe dangling from between his teeth he sat from morning to night reading diligently in the large doctor-book. He looked exactly like a real doctor. No one would notice the slightest difference. But, nevertheless, no one came to consult him. Thinking the reason might be that no one knew of him, he at length decided to place a sign above his door stating, 'Here Lives the Greatest Doctor in the World,' as he was sure this would at once turn the general attention towards him. He began to paint these letters on an old board. But as he had a very faint idea of writing -- in fact, this was the first time he had ever tried the art -- he wrote instead, 'Here Lives the Greatest Detective in the World.' A few days afterwards the king happened to pass the house of the 'Greatest Detective.' 'What in all the world is written on that sign?' said he, dispatching one of his servants over to examine it closely. The servant reported that the sign advertised the greatest detective in the world. 'Well,' said the king, 'I shall remember him and employ his services some day.' Some time after, it happened that a thief entered the royal stables and stole two of the king's best horses. A thorough search was made throughout the land, both for the thief and the horses, but without success. At length someone reminded the king of the detective whose house they had passed. 'Exactly so!' cried the king. 'Now we shall find both thief and horses.' He at once bid one of his men go and seek the wise man's advice in the difficult problem. The man rode back, found the house, knocked at the door, and walked in. Here he saw the detective sitting in front of the table, reading in the large doctor-book. He took off his hat, bowed politely, and presented the king's compliments. 'I have come,' he said, 'to ask --' 'That is all very well,' interrupted the doctor. 'I know it already.' 'Oh yes, of course you do,' answered the messenger. 'Will you kindly direct me where to go and find them?' 'Ye-es,' replied the wise man, turning the leaves in the large book before him. 'I will tell you what to do. Wait a moment.' Now he took out a slip of paper which he had found among the leaves in the book, folded it, and handed it to the messenger, directing him to go to the drugstore and have this prescription filled. 'Take the medicine promptly,' he concluded, 'then you will find them!' He looked just as wise and important as any doctor in the land and waved his hand graciously at the messenger as a sign that the audience was at an end. The messenger lost no time in having the prescription filled, and as soon as the medicine was in his hand he took a drink from the bottle, and rode along as rapidly as he could, anxious to return to the king and relate his interview with the extraordinary man who seemed to know all beforehand. He had not gone very far, however, before the medicine began to act. Of a sudden he was seized with a terrible headache, and was obliged to seek refuge in a house near the road, where he was very kindly received. Thinking that a little rest would do him good, he lay down on a sofa in a room facing the yard. The headache became more and more severe, however, and the poor fellow cursed the wise man and his medicine with all his heart. But just as he complained of his evil fate, he heard the neighing of a horse in the stable across the yard. He arose quietly and approached the window, listening attentively, as the neighing seemed familiar to him. Now the horse neighed once more. His doubts vanished, and as the same moment his headache seemed to also completely vanish. Silently he opened the window, jumped into the yard, crept into the stable, and at once found the stolen horses, which he immediately untied. A few hours later he stood before the king, who did not know how to praise and reward the wisdom of the Great Detective before whom nothing was, of course, concealed. He lost no time in sending him two hundred dollars as a token of his high esteem and his gratitude. When the doctor received the money he said to his wife that a doctor's trade seemed to be a very easy one, and she answered that his bargain, which had seemed to her a foolish one, was, after all, quite satisfactory so far. Some time passed, when one day a beautiful gold ring belonging to the princess was stolen. A diligent search was made, but it seemed to have vanished altogether, with the thief. At length the Great Detective was named to the king as the right man to be consulted in this difficult affair. His majesty lost no time in sending a beautiful carriage and a messenger, with an invitation to the great man. Would he kindly assist in finding the gold ring which had been stolen? 'Yes, I know it all,' said he to the messenger who stood before him, bowing politely, 'and I am willing to come.' So he entered the carriage in his complete doctor's outfit, followed by his wife, whereupon they drove to the royal palace. The king himself stepped forward and opened the carriage door to the worthy couple, bowing and scraping and making himself agreeable. He invited them to partake of a dinner. The following day they would begin the search for the ring. The wise man assented to this, and they proceeded to the dinner table, which was, of course, laid in a splendid and gorgeous manner. The doctor whispered to his wife that she must remember how many dishes they had. When all had been seated, the door was opened and in came the servant with the first dish. The wise man looked at his wife, nodded, and said, 'This is the first one.' He did not see -- in fact no one did -- that the servant turned as pale as a sheet, but busied himself with doing justice to the excellent things before him. The servant, however, was fearfully frightened, and before returning to the kitchen he stopped behind the chair of the Great Detective, plucking him by the sleeve in order to attract his attention, but without apparent result. The dismayed man had nothing to do but return to the kitchen. He was one of the thieves, and, with two other servants, had stolen the ring and buried it in the royal gardens under a large apple tree. Pale and trembling from fear, he told his two friends how the Great Detective had said to his wife, 'This is the first one' -- meaning of course, the first thief. As the second servant was to carry in the next dish, his two comrades told him to do his best and ask the wise man to step into the kitchen. Perhaps he could be induced to spare their lives. As the servant entered the dining hall, the doctor said to his wife, 'This is the second one.' She nodded. The servant grew white from fear and pulled him from behind by the sleeve. The great man thought, however, of nothing but the dishes, and did not feel the servant's endeavor to attract his attention. Thus the poor fellow was obliged to return to the kitchen without having accomplished his errand. When the third servant entered, the doctor said to his wife, 'This is the third one.' The servant pulled him, however, so violently by the sleeve that he turned in his chair, asking what he wanted. 'Would he,' whispered the unfortunate man, 'go with him into the kitchen?' So he arose and followed When he entered the kitchen the three servants implored him to spare them. He was right. They had stolen the ring. The wise man looked keenly at the three culprits, bit his lips, and said that of course he had know it all the time. They were great rascals who deserved a severe punishment. He did not know whether he could really save them from the gallows. They now fell upon their knees and implored him to show mercy. They would be willing to give back the ring and pay him two hundred dollars if he would agree to keep their secret. This he promised, and before leaving them he told them to put the ring into a cake and serve it to the king's dog the next morning. They promised to do as he bid them. Next morning the king began to speak of the lost ring. The Great Detective assumed his most important air, looked around him, and finally fixed his glance upon the big dog which was walking about on the floor. They were just eating breakfast, and when one of the servants carried around the dishes he stole a glance at the doctor and nodded, thus assuring him that the dog had eaten the cake. 'Can you tell me where to find the thief and the ring?' pursued the king. 'Both are in this room!' answered he. The king looked around in great astonishment. 'Both in this room?' repeated he. 'There is the thief,' continued the doctor, pointing to the dog. Now the king was thoroughly amazed, and even angry. He thought the wise man made fun of him. 'Kill the thief,' said the doctor, sternly, 'and you will be sure to find the ring.' They did so at once, and, indeed, found the ring in the stomach of the animal. The wise man received a great sum of money from the king, and afterward the three servants paid him the two hundred dollars which they had promised him for keeping their secret. But from this day the doctor became so famous that no one dared to steal. His very name frightened the thieves and made them control their evil instincts. Although he was no more called upon to detect stolen goods, he had already earned money enough for the rest of his lifetime. He lived happily many years, honored by everyone in the land. London: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1899), pp. 111-18.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,Doctor Cure-All,Ireland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Patrick Kennedy, The Fireside Stories of Ireland (Dublin: M'Glashan and Gill; London: Simpkin, Marshall, and Company; Edinburgh: John Menzies and Company, 1870), pp. 116-19. Source (Internet Archive): Patrick Kennedy, The Fireside Stories of Ireland (Dublin: M'Glashan and Gill; London: Simpkin, Marshall, and Company; Edinburgh: John Menzies and Company, 1870), pp. 116-19.","There was once a poor fagot-cutter that used to work very hard, and one day that he took a load of fagots to the doctor in the next town, he was brought into the parlour to be paid, and didn't he admire the fine furniture he saw about him! When he was coming away, says he to the doctor, 'Musha, sir, would you lend me one of these fine-bound books for about a quarter of a year or so, and I'll return it honestly?' 'What is the book to be about?' says the doctor, 'and what do you want with it?' 'I don't care what it's about,' says he, 'and I'll tell you when I return it the use I'll make of it.' The doctor laughed, and gave him a well-looking wolume, but I don't know no more nor the fagot-cutter himself what was in it. 'A fine thing,' says he, 'to be slavin' oneself as I do for my bit and sup, and see what grandeur that man is in for doing nothing at all, as a body might say.' When he got home, he removed bag and baggage into the town after selling his little furniture, and buying a shute of broad cloth, and a Caroline hat, and a Barcelona hankecher. He got a painter to put up a sign-board with DOCTOR CURE-ALL over his door, put some bottles on a shelf, and sat down at his little round table with his book before him. Well, he soon got custom, but all the cures he knew was bowl almanac [Bole-Armeniac], salts and senna, castor oil, and sugar and soap for plasters. But he was so courageous in promising cures, and so many got well, no thanks to him, and there was so many that there was nothing amiss with at all, that he soon got a great name. He even recovered stolen things, for he gave out that he knew by his books who had them, and the thieves used to bring them unknownst to him, and give him some money for not telling on them. Well, there was a gentleman in the neighbourhood that had a very valuable ring taken from him, and he sent for Dr. Cure-all to find out the thief for him. 'I'll find him out,' says he, 'if he's above ground, but it can't be done in a minute. I'll have to see where you kept it, and get a lock of hair from everyone in the house, and study my conjurin' book for eight days. The ninth morning you'll have the ring safe and sound. I'll have to stay on the premises the whole time.' 'Very good,' says the gentleman. Well, he lived like a fighting cock for five days, but I give you my word he began then to get uneasy, for no one about the house seemed inclined to confess, though he gave out from the beginning that he'd have his hand on the thief the evening of the eighth day. The evening of the sixth he was walking in the paddock near the hedge, and he was muttering to himself, 'Three days only now, and be this and be that there goes one of 'em!' says he in an angry voice. Well, there was three rogues of servants concerned in the robbery, and one of them was padrowlin' [patrolling] in the cabbage-garden the other side of the hedge the same minute. He never drew rein till he got to the other fellows, and says he, 'We're discovered as sure as fate.' Well, they talked and they talked, and didn't know what to do till next evening, when the second of 'em was close by the hedge, and what did he hear but the doctor cry out, 'And there goes the second of 'em!' Well, they were more frightened now than before, and came to the point of confessing if the doctor knew there was three of 'em. The next evening the poor man was walking sorrowful enough in the same place. 'Ovoch!' was he saying to himself, 'there was only three evenings of the time left since I took my walk here to give the thief an opportunity of talking to me,' and then his heart was so bitter he cried out, 'Here is the third of 'em!' 'Docthor, docthor,' says a voice the other side of the hedge, 'you're a considherate man; here's the ring and a guinea-note along with it. Keep our secret.' 'You don't deserve it, you unlucky rogue, for delaying so long. The master 'ud have you in the stone-jug [gaol] tomorrow only for your late repentance.' Well, the whole family were assembled in the big parlour next morning, and the doctor sitting very stately in an arm-chair. 'Who is the robber?' says the master. 'I know the robber, and the place he hid the ring,' says the doctor, 'but I can only reveal one. Which is it to be?' The master, of course, chose to get his valuable ring. 'Well, then,' says he, 'go to the hen-house wherever that is; I don't know. Put your right hand on the little board that's inside over the door, and in the middle of it you'll find what you're in search of.' Out went the mistress and the little girl that minded the fowl, and there the ring was sure enough. Well, there was great joy, you may depend, and very great honour was paid to the wise man, but the master's brother that came that day on a visit, wouldn't give the doctor any credit at all. 'Wait till dinner time,' says he 'and if I don't astonish his weak mind, you may say what you like.' Well, the brother and his servant were cooking something very secretly in the kitchen before dinner time, and when that was over, and the doctor's health was drunk, and himself greatly praised, says the brother, 'Doctor, I'll praise you more than all the family if you tell me what's in this covered plate.' Ah, wouldn't anyone pity the poor man at that moment? 'No use,' says he to himself, 'in throwing sand in people's eyes any longer.' Then speaking out loud, says be, 'Ah, sir, let the fox go as far as he pleases, he'll be cotch [caught] at last.' 'Well,' says the gentleman, 'I see I must give it up. It's a bit of a fox sure enough!' He lifted the cover for an instant, and then threw plate and cover and fox out of the window. And that's the way with the world. Impedence will bring a man through an auger hole, where an honest man can't get through an open gate.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,Doctor Know-All,Germany,NA,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Doktor Allwissend,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 98, pp. 69-71.","Once upon a time there was a poor peasant by the name of Crab who drove two oxen with a load of wood into town where he sold it to a doctor for two thalers. He received his money just as the doctor was sitting down to eat. When the peasant saw how well the doctor ate and drank, his heart took a longing for the same things, and he decided that he would like to have been a doctor. He stood there for a while, and then asked if he too could not become a doctor. 'Certainly,' said the doctor, 'in no time at all.' 'What do I have to do?' asked the peasant. First of all, buy yourself an ABC-book, one that has a picture of a rooster up front. Second, sell your wagon and your two oxen and buy yourself some clothing and other things that doctors use. Third, have yourself a sign painted with the words 'I am Doctor Know-All' and nail it above the door to your house.' The peasant did everything he was told to do. After he had doctored a little -- but not very much -- some money was stolen from a great and wealthy nobleman. Someone told him about the Doctor Know-All who lived in such and such a village, and who must know where the money had gone. So the nobleman had his carriage hitched up, rode out to the village, and asked him if he were Doctor Know-All. 'Yes, that I am.' 'Then you must come with me and recover my stolen money.' 'Yes, but my wife Grete must come along too.' The nobleman agreed and had them take their places in his carriage. They rode away together. They arrived at the nobleman's court just at mealtime, and the nobleman invited him to eat. 'Yes, but include my wife Grete,' he replied, and the two of them sat down behind the table. When the first servant brought out a platter of fine food the peasant nudged his wife and said, 'Grete, that's the first one,' meaning the meal's first course. However, the servant thought that he meant, 'That's the first thief,' and because that is indeed what he was, he took fright, and outside he said to his comrades, 'The doctor knows everything. It's going to go badly for us. He said that I'm the first one.' The second one did not want to go inside at all, but finally he had to, and when he entered, the peasant nudged his wife and said, 'Grete, that's the second one.' This servant took fright as well, and went outside. It did not go any better for the third one. Once again the peasant said, 'Grete, that's the third one.' The fourth one brought in a covered platter, and the nobleman told the doctor that he should demonstrate his art by guessing what it contained. It was crabs. The peasant looked at the platter, and seeing no way out of his dilemma, he said to himself, 'Oh, poor Crab!' Hearing this, the nobleman called out, 'If he knows that then he must know who has the money as well!' The servant grew very fearful and motioned to the doctor to go outside. There all four of them confessed to him that they had stolen the money. They offered to give it all to him and a handsome sum in addition, if he would not turn them in. Otherwise they would all hang. They showed him where the money was hidden. The doctor was satisfied with this, and he went back inside and sat down again at the table. 'My lord,' he said, 'Now I will look in my book to see where the money is hidden. However, the fifth servant climbed into the stove in order to hear if the doctor knew anything else. The doctor leafed back and forth in his book looking for the picture of the rooster. Not finding it, he said, 'I know that you are in there. Come on out.' The man in the stove thought that the doctor was talking to him, and terrified, he jumped out, saying, 'The man knows everything!' Then Doctor Know-All showed the nobleman where the money was, but he did not tell who had stolen it. Thus he received a large reward from each side and became a famous man. Allwissend,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 98, pp. 69-71.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,Harisarman,India,"Jacobs' source: Somadeva, Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story. Translated from the original Sanskrit by C. H. Tawney. Vol. 1 (Calcutta: Printed by J. W. Thomas at the Baptist Mission Press, 1880), pp. 272-74. This volume contains additional information in a note on the story of Harisárman.","Jacobs, Indian Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1892), no. 11, pp. 85-89.","There was a certain Brahman in a certain village, named Harisarman. He was poor and foolish and in evil case for want of employment, and he had very many children, that he might reap the fruit of his misdeeds in a former life. He wandered about begging with his family, and at last he reached a certain city, and entered the service of a rich householder called Sthuladatta. His sons became keepers of Sthuladatta's cows and other property, and his wife a servant to him, and he himself lived near his house, performing the duty of an attendant. One day there was a feast on account of the marriage of the daughter of Sthuladatta, largely attended by many friends of the bridegroom, and merrymakers. Harisarman hoped that he would be able to fill himself up to the throat with ghee and flesh and other dainties, and get the same for his family, in the house of his patron. While he was anxiously expecting to be fed, no one thought of him. Then he was distressed at getting nothing to eat, and he said to his wife at night, 'It is owing to my poverty and stupidity that I am treated with such disrespect here; so I will pretend by means of an artifice to possess a knowledge of magic, so that I may become an object of respect to this Sthuladatta; so, when you get an opportunity, tell him that I possess magical knowledge.' He said this to her, and after turning the matter over in his mind, while people were asleep he took away from the house of Sthuladatta a horse on which his master's son-in-law rode. He placed it in concealment at some distance, and in the morning the friends of the bridegroom could not find the horse, though they searched in every direction. Then, while Sthuladatta was distressed at the evil omen, and searching for the thieves who had carried off the horse, the wife of Harisarman came and said to him, 'My husband is a wise man, skilled in astrology and magical sciences. He can get the horse back for you. Why do you not ask him?' When Sthuladatta heard that, he called Harisarman, who said, 'Yesterday I was forgotten, but today, now the horse is stolen, I am called to mind,' and Sthuladatta then propitiated the Brahman with these words, 'I forgot you, forgive me,' and asked him to tell him who had taken away their horse. Then Harisarman drew all kinds of pretended diagrams, and said, 'The horse has been placed by thieves on the boundary line south from this place. It is concealed there, and before it is carried off to a distance, as it will be at close of day, go quickly and bring it.' When they heard that, many men ran and brought the horse quickly, praising the discernment of Harisarman. Then Harisarman was honored by all men as a sage, and dwelt there in happiness, honored by Sthuladatta. Now, as days went on, much treasure, both of gold and jewels, had been stolen by a thief from the palace of the king. As the thief was not known, the king quickly summoned Harisarman on account of his reputation for knowledge of magic. And he, when summoned, tried to gain time, and said, 'I will tell you tomorrow,' and then he was placed in a chamber by the king, and carefully guarded. And he was sad because he had pretended to have knowledge. Now in that palace there was a maid named Jihva (which means tongue), who, with the assistance of her brother, had stolen that treasure from the interior of the palace. She, being alarmed at Harisarman's knowledge, went at night and applied her ear to the door of that chamber in order to find out what he was about. And Harisarman, who was alone inside, was at that very moment blaming his own tongue, that had made a vain assumption of knowledge. He said, 'Oh tongue, what is this that you have done through your greediness? Wicked one, you will soon receive punishment in full.' When Jihva heard this, she thought, in her terror, that she had been discovered by this wise man, and she managed to get in where he was, and falling at his feet, she said to the supposed wizard, 'Brahman, here I am, that Jihva whom you have discovered to be the thief of the treasure, and after I took it I buried it in the earth in a garden behind the palace, under a pomegranate tree. So spare me, and receive the small quantity of gold which is in my possession.' When Harisarman heard that, he said to her proudly, 'Depart, I know all this; I know the past, present and future; but I will not denounce you, being a miserable creature that has implored my protection. But whatever gold is in your possession you must give back to me.' When he said this to the maid, she consented, and departed quickly. But Harisarman reflected in his astonishment, 'Fate brings about, as if in sport, things impossible, for when calamity was so near, who would have thought chance would have brought us success? While I was blaming my jihva, the thief Jihva suddenly flung herself at my feet. Secret crimes manifest themselves by means of fear.' Thus thinking, he passed the night happily in the chamber. And in the morning he brought the king, by some skillful parade of pretended knowledge into the garden, and led him up to the treasure, which was buried under the pomegranate tree, and said that the thief had escaped with a part of it. Then the king was pleased, and gave him the revenue of many villages. But the minister, named Devajnanin, whispered in the king's ear, 'How can a man possess such knowledge unattainable by men, without having studied the books of magic. You may be certain that this is a specimen of the way he makes a dishonest livelihood, by having a secret intelligence with thieves. It will be much better to test him by some new artifice.' Then the king of his own accord brought a covered pitcher into which he had thrown a frog, and said to Harisarman, 'Brahman, if you can guess what there is in this pitcher, I will do you great honor today.' When the Brahman Harisarman heard that, he thought that his last hour had come, and he called to mind the pet name of 'Froggie' which his father had given him in his childhood in sport, and, impelled by luck, he called to himself by his pet name, lamenting his hard fate, and suddenly called out, 'This is a fine pitcher for you, Froggie; it will soon become the swift destroyer of your helpless self.' The people there, when they heard him say that, raised a shout of applause, because his speech chimed in so well with the object presented to him, and murmured, 'Ah! a great sage, he knows even about the frog!' Then the king, thinking that this was all due to knowledge of divination, was highly delighted, and gave Harisarman the revenue of more villages, with gold, an umbrella, and state carriages of all kinds. So Harisarman prospered in the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,John the Conjurer,Spain,NA,"Fernan Caballero, The Bird of Truth and Other Fairy Tales (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein and Company, [1883]), pp. 72-76.","It so happened that a great quantity of plate was stolen from the king's palace, and notwithstanding the most diligent search it was impossible to find out who were the perpetrators of the robbery. As a last resource the king was counselled to order the famous magician to be brought to him, as nothing could be hidden from this man, although, it was remarked, he would not always display his power save only when he was in the humour to do so. The king ordered the magician to be brought into his presence; and the man, as may be imagined, when he came before his Majesty, was nearly dead from fright. The king informed him that he was to be shut up in prison for three days, and that if at the end of those three days he had not discovered the authors of the robbery, he would have him hanged as a liar and an impostor. 'I may as well prepare myself for death,' thought John Cigarron, when he found himself in prison. 'Never would I have held myself forth as a magician if I had known what it would cost me. Only three days of life left to me; not one more nor one less! A nice scrape you've got into, John Cigarron!' The truth was, that the plate had been stolen by three of the king's pages, who were the very youths charged to take the prisoner his food. When the first of them took his evening meal to the cell, John Cigarron, alluding to the three days to which his existence was limited by the king, exclaimed: The others would not believe it; but on the second day, when another of the three pages entered the cell with the food, and heard John Cigarron exclaiming sadly: 'You are right,' he said to his companions. 'He knows, and we are lost!' So when it came to pass on the following day that the third had to take the food in, and heard John Cigarron saying in despair: The three days having passed, the king commanded the magician to be brought into his presence, and the man entered with much pomposity. 'Well,' said the king, 'do you bring me news of my lost property?' 'Sire,' responded John Cigarron, with great bombast, 'I am too noble and too philanthropic to betray anyone, but I confide in your Majesty being contented with my skill and power if the stolen plate be restored.' 'Yes, yes,' replied the king, 'I shall be satisfied if the plate be given up. Where is it?' John Cigarron drew himself up and responded, as he made a majestic gesture: 'Let someone go to the cell in which I was confined, and it will be found there.' This was done, and the plate, which had been carried there by the pages, was found. The king was struck with admiration, and took such interest in John Cigarron's fate, that he appointed him Chief Magician, Royal Diviner, and Soothsayer in Ordinary. But all this was far from gratifying to the office-bearer, who trembled with dread at the thought of what might present itself upon the next occasion when his Majesty should require his scientific services, and when, he feared, he might not emerge with such flying colours. And his fears were not quite groundless; for one day when the king was walking in his gardens he thought he would like another proof of his Chief Magician's skill, so he presented himself to him suddenly, with his hand closed, and asked him what he had in it. On hearing this unexpected question, the poor fellow was quite stupefied, and exclaimed: 'Sire, the game is up, Cigarron is in your hands now!' A cry of admiration escaped from the king, who opened his hand and displayed what was in it; it was a large cigar (cigarron)! In his enthusiasm the king told the lucky conjurer to ask whatever he wished for; and whatever it should be, he gave him his royal word that he would grant it. In reply, John Cigarron said: 'Then, sire, I beg that you will never again put my powers of divination to the test!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,Suan's Good Luck,Philippines,Note by Fansler: 'Narrated by Macaria Garcia. The story is popular among the Pampangans.' Fansler's collection includes one additional tale of type 1641: 'Suan Eket' (pp. 2-6).,"Source (books.google.com): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania; New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), , no. 1A, pp. 1-2. Source (Internet Archive): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania; New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), , no. 1A, pp. 1-2.","There was once an old woman who had an only son named Suan [a common nickname for Juan]. Suan was a clever, sharp-witted boy. His mother sent him to school. Instead of going to school, however, Suan climbed up the tree that stood by the roadside. As soon as his mother had passed by from the market, Suan hurried home ahead of her. When she reached home, he cried, 'Mother, I know what you bought in the market today.' He then told her, article by article. This same thing happened so repeatedly, that his mother began to believe in his skill as a diviner. One day the ring of the datu's [village chieftain's] daughter disappeared. All the people in the locality searched for it, but in vain. The datu called for volunteers to find the lost ring, and he offered his daughter's hand as a prize to the one who should succeed. Suan's mother heard of the proclamation. So she went to the palace and presented Suan to the datu. 'Well, Suan, tomorrow tell me where the ring is,' said the datu. 'Yes, my lord, I will tell you, if you will give your soldiers over to me for tonight,' Suan replied. 'You shall have everything you need,' said the datu. That evening Suan ordered the soldiers to stand around him in a semicircle. When all were ready, Suan pointed at each one of them, and said, 'The ring is here, and nowhere else.' It so happened that Suan fixed his eyes on the guilty soldier, who trembled and became pale. 'I know who has it,' said Suan. Then he ordered them to retire. Late in the night this soldier came to Suan, and said, ' I will get the ring you are in search of, and will give it to you if you will promise me my safety.' 'Give it to me, and you shall be safe,' said Suan. Very early the next morning Suan came to the palace with a turkey in his arms. 'Where is the ring? ' the datu demanded. 'Why, sir, it is in this turkey's intestines,' Suan replied. The turkey was then killed, and the ring was found inside it. 'You have done very well, Suan. Now you shall have my daughter's hand,' said the datu. So Suan became the princess's husband. One day the datu proposed a bet with anyone who wished to prove Suan's skill. Accordingly another datu came. He offered to bet seven cascos [cargo boats] of treasure that Suan could not tell the number of seeds that were in his orange. Suan did not know what to do. At midnight he went secretly to the cascos. Here he heard their conversation, and from it he learned the number of seeds in the orange. In the morning Suan said boastfully, 'I tell you, your orange has nine seeds.' Thus Suan won the whole treasure. Hoping to recover his loss, the datu came again. This time he had with him fourteen cascos full of gold. He asked Suan to tell him what was inside his golden ball. Suan did not know what to say. So in the dead of night he went out to the cascos, but he could learn nothing there. The next morning Suan was summoned into the presence of the two datus. He had no idea whatever as to what was in the ball; so he said scornfully, 'Nonsense!' 'That is right, that is right!' shouted a man. 'The ball contains nine cents.' Consequently Suan won the fourteen cascos full of gold. From now on, nobody doubted Suan's merit.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,The Charcoal Burner,Norway,Link to this tale in the original Norwegian: Kullbrenneren.,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Round the Yule Log: Norwegian Folk and Fairy Tales, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1881), pp. 308-316.","There was once upon a time a charcoal burner who had a son, and he was also a charcoal burner. When the father died, the son got married, but he would not do any work, and he neglected also to look after his kilns, and very soon no one would have him to burn charcoal any more for them. But one day he had got a kiln of charcoal ready burnt, and he set out for town with some loads of it and sold them. When he had done his business, he loitered down some of the streets and looked about him. On his way home he fell in with some neighbors and other people from the same parish, and he talked and bragged to them about all that he had seen in town. The most remarkable thing he saw, he said, was the great number of parsons he met, and all the people in the streets took off their hats to them. 'I wish I was a parson,' he said, 'perhaps the people would take off their hats to me too; now, they don't appear to see me at all.' 'Well, your clothes are black enough, anyhow,' said his neighbors; 'but now that we are on the way, we may as well call in at the sale at the old parson's, and get a glass with the others, and you can buy yourself a gown and ruff at the same time.' Yes, he did so, and when he came home he hadn't a penny left. 'I suppose you have brought both money and good manners home with you from town this time?' said his wife. 'Good manners! yes, I should think so,' said the charcoal burner. 'Just look here! I am a parson now. Here is both the gown and the ruff!' 'Yes, very likely!' said his wife; 'strong beer makes big words, it appears! You don't care how things go!' 'You shouldn't boast or bother about the coals you are burning, till they are ready,' answered the husband. But one day a great many people, dressed like parsons, passed the charcoal burner's house on their way to the palace, and it was plain to see that something was going to take place there, so the charcoal burner thought he would go as well, and put on the old parson's clothes. His wife thought it would be wiser of him to stay at home, for even if he got the chance to hold a horse for some grand person, she was afraid the sixpence he got for it would vanish down his throat, which usually was the case. 'Yes, everybody talks about the drink, but no one about the thirst, do they, mother?' said the husband; 'the more one drinks, the more one thirsts,' and with that he started for the palace. All the strangers were invited to come into the presence of the king, and the charcoal burner entered with the others. The king then told them that he had lost his most costly ring, and he felt sure it had been stolen. He had therefore called together all the learned clergy in the country, to hear if any of them could tell him who the thief was. And the king promised that he would handsomely reward the one who could tell him about it; if he was a curate, he should get a living; if he was a rector, he should be made a dean; if he was a dean, he should be made a bishop; and if he was a bishop, he should be the first man after the king. So the king went from one to the other, and asked them all if they could tell him who the thief was, and when he came to the charcoal burner, he said, 'Who are you?' 'I am the wise parson and the true prophet,' said the charcoal burner. 'Then you can tell me who has taken my ring?' said the king. 'Well, it isn't beyond sense and reason, that what has happened in the dark might be brought to light,' said the charcoal burner; 'but it isn't every year that the salmon plays in the fir-tops. I have now been studying and working for seven years to get bread for myself and my family, but I haven't got a living yet, so if the thief is to be found, I must have plenty of time and paper, for I must write and reckon early and late.' Yes, he should have as much time and paper as he wished, if he only could find the thief. So he got a room to himself in the palace, and before long they found out that he must know something more than writing a sermon, for he used so much paper that it lay about in heaps; but there wasn't one who could make out a word of all he had written, for it was only pothooks and marks like a crow's toes. But the time wore on, and he could not find any trace of the thief. So the king got tired of waiting, and told him that if he couldn't find the thief in three days, he should lose his life. 'Ah, but he that rules must not be hasty, but wait till his temper cools,' said the charcoal burner. 'One can't begin and rake out the coals, till they are thoroughly burnt and the fire has gone out.' But the king stuck to what he said, and the charcoal burner felt his life wasn't worth much. Now it so happened, that it was three of the king's servants who waited upon him day by day in turn that had stolen the ring between them. So one day, when one of the servants came into his room and cleared away the table after supper, and was just about leaving the room, the charcoal burner heaved a deep sigh and looked after him and said, 'There goes the first of them.' But he only meant the first of the three days he still had to live. 'This parson knows all about it,' said the servant, when he got his comrades by themselves, and told them that the parson had said, 'that he was the first of them.' The second servant, who was to wait upon him the next day, was to notice what he would say then, and sure enough, as he was going out after having cleared the table, the charcoal burner gazed steadily at him, sighed and said, 'There goes the second of them.' So the third servant was to observe what happened the third day; it got worse and worse he thought, for when the servant came to the door and was going out with all the plates and dishes, the charcoal burner folded his hands and said, 'There goes the third of them,' and then he sighed as if his heart would break. The servant came breathlessly out to his comrades and told them it was clear enough that the parson knew all about it, and so they went into his room and fell on their knees before him, and prayed and begged of him, that he would not tell it was they who had taken the ring; they would give him a hundred dollars each, if he only would not bring them into trouble. He promised faithfully, that no one should get into trouble if he got the money, the ring, and a lump of porridge. He put the ring into the porridge, and told one of them to give it to the biggest pig belonging to the king. Next morning the king came; it was easy to see he would not be played with; he would know all about the thief. 'Well, I have written and reckoned far and wide,' said the charcoal burner, 'but I find it's not a man who has stolen the ring.' 'Pooh! Who is it then?' said the king. 'Oh, it's that big pig which belongs to your majesty,' said the charcoal burner. Well, they brought out the pig and killed it, and, sure enough, the ring was found inside it. So the charcoal burner got a living, and the king was so pleased that he gave him a farm and horse and a hundred dollars in the bargain. It did not take the charcoal burner long to move, and the first Sunday after he had settled in his parish he was going to church to read his first sermon. But before he started he had to get some breakfast, and so he put the sermon on the bread plate; but he made a mistake and took the sermon instead of the bread, and dipped it into the soup, and when he felt it was so tough to chew, he gave it all to his dog, and the dog made short work of it and swallowed it all. When he found out his mistake, he was at a loss what to do. But he had to go to church, for his congregation was waiting for him; and when he came there, he went straight up into the pulpit He put on such a grand air while he was getting ready for the sermon, that all thought he must be a very fine preacher. But when he did begin, it wasn't so very fine after all. 'The words, my dear brethren, which you were going to hear this day, have gone to the dogs; but come again, some other Sunday, my dear parishioners, and you shall hear something else! And thus endeth this sermon!' Well, all the people thought he was a queer parson, for they had never heard such a sermon; but then they thought he might improve, and if not -- why, they would know how to deal with him. Next Sunday the church was so crowded by people who wanted to hear the new parson, that there was scarcely room for them all in the church. As soon as the parson arrived, he went straight up into the pulpit, and then he stood for some time without saying a word, but all at once he made a start and cried out, 'I say, old mother Berit, why do you sit so far back in the church?' 'Oh, my boots are in such a bad state, your reverence!' said she. 'But you could have got an old pig's skin and made yourself a new pair of boots, and then you could have come to the front like other decent people. Besides, I wish you would all consider which way you are going, for I see that some of you, when you are coming to church, come from the north, and others come from the south, and the same when you leave church; but I suppose you stop and gossip on the way, and then they wonder at home what has become of you. Yea! who knows what will become of us all? And then I have to give notice, that the old parson's widow has lost her black mare. She had fetlocks round her hoofs, and a long mane, and more of this kind which I shan't mention in this place. And then I have a big hole in my old breeches pocket, which I know, but you don't! But whether any of you have a piece of some stuff, which would suit the hole, neither you nor I know.' Some of the people were well satisfied with the sermon, and believed that he in time would make a good parson, but most of them thought it was really too bad; and when the dean came round on one of his visits, they complained to him of the parson and said that such sermons were never heard before, and one of them happened to recollect the last one about the old widow's mare and repeated it all to the dean. 'That was a very good sermon,' said the dean. 'He spoke very likely in parables and impressed upon you to seek the light and to shun the darkness and its deeds, when he spoke about those who were walking on the broad or the narrow road; and particularly do I consider his notice about the old widow's mare a splendid parable as to how it will fare with us all in the end. The breeches pocket with the hole in it referred to his wants, and the piece of stuff was the offerings and gifts he expected from his congregation,' said the dean. 'Yes, we thought as much,' they said. 'It was all about his offerings, sure enough!' And so the dean said that he thought the parish had got such a good, sensible parson, that they should not complain of him, and the end was, that they got no other parson; but as time wore on he got worse instead of better, and so they complained to the bishop. Well, after a long time the bishop came round on a visitation, but the charcoal burner had been in the church the day before without anybody knowing of it, and had sawed the pulpit in several places, so it only hung together when one walked up the steps carefully. So when the congregation had assembled, and the parson was to preach before the bishop, he stole quietly up the steps and began his sermon in his usual style, but after having gone on for some time he spoke up, threw up his arms, and cried out, 'If there is any one here, who has any evil deed or thought in his mind, it were better he left this place, for today, this very day, there will be a fall, the like of which has not taken place since the creation of the world.' And with that he struck the pulpit with his hands, and down tumbled both pulpit and parson with such a crash, that the congregation took to their heels and ran out of the church, as if the day of judgment had come. So the bishop told the people that he wondered that the congregation could complain of a parson, who was so gifted and had such wisdom, that he could prophesy things that were to come. He thought he ought at least to be dean, and it was not long before he was made one. There was no help for it; they had to put up with him. Now it so happened, that the king and queen in that country had no children, but when the king heard that he was to have one he was curious to know whether he was to get a son and heir to his broad lands and acres, or if he only would get a princess. So all the learned men in the land were called to the palace to say which it would be. But as none of them were able to do this, both the king and the bishop happened to think of the new dean, and it did not take long till they had him brought before them and began questioning him. No, he could not tell, he said, for it wasn't easy to guess what no one could know anything about. 'Well, well!' said the king, 'I don't care whether you know it or not; but you are the wise parson and the true prophet, who can foretell things to come, and if you won't tell me, you'll lose both your gown and your ruff! But never mind, I'll give you a trial first,' and so he took the biggest silver tankard he had and went down to the sea shore with the parson. 'Can you tell me now, what I have got in this tankard?' said the king; 'and if so, you can tell me the other thing I asked you as well,' and he held the lid of the tankard tight. The charcoal burner wrung his hands in despair and cried, 'Oh, you unfortunate crawling crab of this earth, what have you now in return for all your toil and trouble!' 'Ah, there you see! You did know it after all!' said the king, for he had put a crab in the tankard. So the charcoal burner had to go back to the palace, where he was shown, into the queen's drawing room. He took a chair and sat down in the middle of the room, while the queen walked up and down the floor. 'One should never make a stall for the unborn calf, and never quarrel about the baby's name before it is born,' said the charcoal burner, 'but I never saw anything like this before; when the queen comes towards me, I fancy it will be a prince, and when she walks away from me, it seems to me as if it will be a princess.' It turned out in time to be twins, and so the charcoal burner had made a lucky hit that time also. And thus for telling what no one could know anything about he got loads of money, and he became next man to the king. Snip, snap, snout, that man knew what he was about.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,The Cobbler Turned Doctor,Attributed to Aesop,NA,"Æsop's Fables, a new translation by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: William Heinemann; New York: Doubleday, Page, and Company, 1916), p. 127.","A very unskillful cobbler, finding himself unable to make a living at his trade, gave up mending boots and took to doctoring instead. He gave out that he had the secret of a universal antidote against all poisons, and acquired no small reputation, thanks to his talent for puffing himself. One day, however, he fell very ill; and the king of the country bethought him that he would test the value of his remedy. Calling, therefore, for a cup, he poured out a dose of the antidote, and, under pretense of mixing poison with it, added a little water, and commanded him to drink it. Terrified by the fear of being poisoned, the cobbler confessed that he knew nothing about medicine, and that his antidote was worthless. Then the king summoned his subjects and address them as follows: 'What folly could be greater than yours? Here is this cobbler to whom no one will send his boots to be mended, and yet you have not hesitated to entrust him with your lives!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,The Four Jogis,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 58, pp. 181-83.","This did not help the other three, but, further on, some frogs jumped into a pond as they passed by, and one of the others at once said: 'I know what I shall say! I shall say 'Plumpety plump! Down he has sat.'' A little later, they saw a pig wallowing in the mud, and the third Jogi called out: 'I have it! I shall say 'Rub away, rub away! Now some more water! Rub away, rub away! I know, my boys, what you are going to do.'' The fourth Jogi was still in perplexity but, when they came in sight of the raja's city, he exclaimed 'I know what I shall say: 'Highways and byeways, what a big city! The kotwal is going his rounds, his rounds.'' Then they got a man to write down these four forms of address on a sheet of paper and presented it to the raja. The raja took it, and read it, and could not make head or tail of it. And when the four Jogis saw him looking so puzzled, they got frightened and took to their heels, for they could not read themselves and were not sure of what the paper really contained. Now the raja's chief officer was a Tehsildar, and he had also a barber, who shaved him every day. And that evening after the Jogis had run away, the Tehsildar proposed to the barber that, when shaving the raja the next morning, he should cut the raja's throat and they could then divide the kingdom between them, and the barber consented. Not content with this, the Tehsildar and the palace chowkidar that same night tried to break into the raja's palace and steal his money and jewelry. They began to cut a hole through the mud wall of the raja's room, but it chanced that the raja was so puzzled by the paper which the Jogis had put into his hand, that he kept on reading it over and over again, and just as the Tehsildar and chowkidar had half cut their way through the wall, they heard the raja saying: 'See, he throws up the earth, scrapety, scrape!' At once they concluded that they had been heard and they crouched down; the raja went on: 'Plumpety, plump! Down he has sat.' This made them think that they had been seen and the chowkidar crept to the door to listen. He heard the raja saying: ' Highways and byeways, what a big city! The kotwal is going his rounds, his rounds!' Then the chowkidar felt sure that he was discovered and he ran off with the Tehsildar, without completing their burglary. The next morning the barber went to shave the raja, and, while he was sharpening the razor, the raja again began to study the mysterious paper, murmuring 'Rub away, rub away, now some more water. Rub away, rub away! I know my boy what you are going to do.' The Barber thought that the raja referred to his rubbing water over his face for shaving, and concluded that the Tehsildar had revealed the plot; so he threw himself at the raja's feet and confessed everything, swearing that the Tehsildar and not he was to blame. The raja at once sent for the chowkidar to take the Tehsildar and Barber to prison. When the chowkidar came in he found the raja repeating 'See he throws up the earth, scrapety, scrape!' He at once concluded that the raja was referring to the burglary and he fell on his knees and confessed all that had happened. This was news to the raja, but he went and saw the place where the wall had been partly cut through, and then he sent all the guilty men to prison and despatched messengers to look for the Jogis who had been the means of saving his life and property; but the Jogis had been so frightened and had run away so far, that they were never found.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641,The Stolen Treasure,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 68, pp. 206-208.","Once upon a time three jars full of money were stolen from a raja's palace. As all search was fruitless the raja at last gave notice that whoever could find them should receive one half of the money. The offer brought all the jans [witch-finders] and ojhas in the country to try their hand, but not one of them could find the treasure. The fact was that the money had been stolen by two of the raja's own servants, and it fell to the duty of these same two men to entertain the ojhas who came to try and find the money. Thus they were able to keep watch and see whether any of them got on the right track. Not far from the raja's city lived a certain tricky fellow. From his boyhood he had always been up to strange pranks, and he had married the daughter of a rich village headman. At the time that the raja's money was stolen his wife was on a visit to her father, and after she had been some time away, he went to fetch her home. However, on his way, he stopped to have a flirtation with a girl he knew in the village, and the result was that he did not get to his father-in-law's house till long after dark. As he stood outside he heard his wife's relations talking inside, and from their conversation he learned that they had killed a capon for supper, and that there was enough for each of them to have three slices of capon and five pieces of the vegetable which was cooked with it. Having learned this he opened the door and went in. The household was amazed at his arriving so late at night, but he explained that he had dreamed that they had killed a capon and were having a feast, and that there was enough for them each to have three slices of capon and five pieces of vegetable, so he had come to have a share. At this his father-in-law could do nothing but have another fowl killed and give him supper. He was naturally astonished at the trickster's powers of dreaming and insisted that he must certainly go and try his luck at finding the raja's stolen money. The trickster was taken aback at this, but there was no getting out of it. So the next morning he set out with his father-in-law to the raja's palace. When they arrived they were placed in charge of the two guilty servants, who offered them refreshments of curds and parched rice. As he was washing his hands after eating, the trickster ejaculated, 'Find or fail, I have at any rate had a square meal.' Now the two servants were named Find and Fail, and when they heard what the trickster said, they thought he was speaking of them, and had by some magic already found out that they were the thieves. This threw them into consternation, and they took the trickster aside and begged him not to tell the raja that they were the thieves. He asked where they had put the money, and they told him that they had hidden it in the sand by the river. Then he promised not to reveal their guilt, if they would show him where to find the money when the time came. They gladly promised and took him the raja. The trickster pretended to read an incantation over some mustard see, and then taking a bamboo went along tapping the ground with it. He refused to have a crowd with him ,because they would spoil the spell, but Find and Fail followed behind him and showed him where to go. So he soon found the jars of money and took them to the raja, who according to his promise gave him half their contents.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1626,Comical History of Three Dreamers,Spain,Aubrey's source: 'From an old edition of Lazarillo de Tormes.' Link to the Wikipedia article on the Lazarillo de Tormes. Link to the Wikipedia article on the John Aubrey.,"John Aubrey, Miscellanies upon Various Subjects, 5th edition (London: Reeves and Turner, 1890), pp. 68-69.","Three companions, of whom two were tradesmen and townsmen, and the third a villager, on the score of devotion, went on pilgrimage to a noted sanctuary; and as they went on their way, their provision began to fail them, insomuch that they had nothing to eat, but a little flour, barely sufficient to make of it a very small loaf of bread. The tricking townsmen seeing this, said between themselves, 'We have but little bread, and this companion of ours is a great eater; on which account it is necessary we should think how we may eat this little bread without him.' When they had made it and set it to bake, the tradesmen seeing in what manner to cheat the countryman, said, 'Let us all sleep, and let him that shall have the most marvelous dream betwixt all three of us, eat the bread.' This bargain being agreed upon, and settled between them, they laid down to sleep. The countryman, discovering the trick of his companions, drew out the bread half baked, ate it by himself, and turned again to sleep. In a while, one of the tradesmen, as frightened by a marvelous dream, began to get up, and was asked by his companion, why he was so frightened. He answered, 'I am frightened and dreadfully surprised by a marvelous dream: it seemed to me that two angels, opening the gates of heaven, carried me before the throne of God with great joy.' His companion said, 'This is a marvelous dream, but I have seen another more marvelous, for I saw two angels, who carried me over the earth to hell.' The countryman hearing this, made as if he slept; but the townsmen, desirous to finish their trick, awoke him; and the countryman, artfully as one surprised, answered, 'Who are these that call me?' They told him, 'We are thy companions.' He asked them, 'How did you return?' They answered, 'We never went hence; why d'ye talk of our return?' The countryman replied, 'It appeared to me that two angels, opening the gates of heaven, carried one of you before our Lord God, and dragged the other over the earth to hell, and I thought you never would return hither, as I have never heard that any had returned from paradise, nor from hell, and so I arose and eat the bread by myself.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1626,"Jesus, Peter, and Judas",The Toledot Yeshu,Link to the Wikipedia article on the Toledot Yeshu.,"The Toledot Yeshu, also spelled Toldoth Jeschu, summarized by Paull Franklin Baum, 'The Three Dreams or 'Deam-Bread' Story,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 30 (1917), p. 382.","On the journey from Rome to Jerusalem, Jesus, Peter, and Judas stopped at a small inn, and the host had only one goose to offer his three guests. Jesus then took the goose and said, 'This is verily not sufficient for three persons; let us go to sleep, and the whole goose shall be his who shall have the best dream.' Whereupon they lay down to slumber. In the middle of the night Judas arose and ate the goose. When morning came, the three met, and Peter said, 'I dreamed I sat at the foot of the throne of Almighty God.' And to him Jesus answered, 'I am the son of Almighty God, and I dreamed thou wert seated near me; my dream is therefore superior to thine, and the goose shall be mine to eat.' Then Judas said, 'And I, while I was dreaming, ate the goose.' And Jesus sought the goose, but vainly, for Judas had devoured it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1626,Of the Deceits of the Devil,Gesta Romanorum,Link to the Wikipedia article on the Gesta Romanorum.,"Gesta Romanorum, translated from the Latin by Charles Swan; revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 106, pp. 184-85.","There were once three friends, who agreed to make a pilgrimage together. It happened that their provisions fell short, and having but one loaf between them, they were nearly famished. 'Should this loaf,' they said to each other, 'be divided amongst us, there will not be enough for any one. Let us then take counsel together, and consider how the bread is to be disposed of.' 'Suppose we sleep upon the way,' replied one of them; 'and whosoever hath the most wonderful dream shall possess the loaf?' The other two acquiesced, and settled themselves to sleep. But he who gave the advice arose while they were sleeping and eat up the bread, not leaving a single crumb for his companions. When he had finished he awoke them. 'Get up quickly,' said he, 'and tell us your dreams.' 'My friends,' answered the first, 'I have had a very marvelous vision. A golden ladder reached up to heaven, by which angels ascended and descended. They took my soul from my body, and conveyed it to that blessed place, where I beheld the Holy Trinity, and where I experienced such an overflow of joy as eye hath not seen nor ear heard. This is my dream.' 'And I,' said the second, 'beheld the devils with iron instruments, by which they dragged my soul from the body, and plunging it into hell flames, most grievously tormented me, saying, 'As long as God reigns in heaven this will be your portion.'' 'Now then,' said the third, who had eaten the bread, 'hear my dream. It appeared as if an angel came and addressed me in the following manner: 'My friend, would you see what is become of your companions?' I answered, 'Yes, Lord. We have but one loaf between us, and I fear that they have run off with it.' 'You are mistaken,' he rejoined, 'it lies beside us; follow me.' He immediately led me to the gate of heaven, and by his command I put in my head and saw you; and I thought that you were snatched up into heaven and sat upon a throne of gold, while rich wines and delicate meats stood around you. Then said the angel, 'Your companion, you see, has an abundance of good things, and dwells in all pleasures. There he will remain for ever; for he has entered the celestial kingdom, and cannot return. Come now where your other associate is placed.' I followed, and he led me to hell-gates, where I beheld you in torment, as you just now said. Yet they furnished you, even there, with bread and wine in abundance. I expressed my sorrow at seeing you in misery, and you replied, 'As long as God reigns in heaven here I must remain, for I have merited it. Do you then rise up quickly and eat up all the bread, since you will see neither me nor my companion again.' I complied with your wishes, arose, and eat the bread.' APPLICATION My beloved, the Saracens and Jews, the rich and powerful, and, finally, the perfect among men, are typified by the three companions. The bread represents the kingdom of heaven.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1626,"The ""Dream-Bread"" Story Once More",USA,NA,"Archer Taylor, ' The 'Dream-Bread' Story Once More,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 34 (1921), pp. 327-28.","The following verses (to the tune of 'Pop goes the Weasel') were communicated to me through the mediation of Mr. Max Deutch by Mr. Frank Wolff. They were composed by the latter in conjunction with an employee of the St. Louis Post Office. He is unable to identify any part as his contribution, and knows the tale merely as a floating anecdote. Two Irishmen and a Hebrew one day Went out for recreation. They took enough provisions along To spend a week's vacation. One night they got lost in the woods; The night was dark and lonely. At last the food they had gave out, Except a piece of baloney. As one of them took up a knife, I said, 'It's no use of carving, For if we share this piece of baloney, It won't keep us from starving.' So I suggested we all go to sleep, And so did Maloney. And the one that had the best of dreams Wins the piece of baloney. The following morn we all got up, It was quarter after seven. One of them said: 'I had a dream, I died and went to heaven; St. Peter met me at the gate, Riding on a pony. I guess that dream couldn't be beat, So that wins the piece of baloney.' The other one said: 'I too had a dream; Stuck out his hand, and said, 'Hello, Maloney!' The Hebrew said: 'It's true, my friend, That you were sleeping. The reason why I know it is 'Cause I was peeping. I saw you both go up in heaven; And, believe me, I was lonely; I thought you'd never come back again, So I got up and ate the baloney.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1626,The Three Dreams,Petrus Alphonsi,Link to the Wikipedia article on Petrus Alphonsi.,"Petrus Alphonsi, Disciplina Clericalis, as retold by Paull Franklin Baum, 'The Three Dreams or 'Dream-Bread' Story,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 30 (1917), p. 378.","Two burghers and a simple peasant, on their way to Mecca, found themselves with no food except enough flour to make a single small loaf of bread. The two burghers took counsel together how they might cheat their companion of his share, and proposed that whichever of the three should have the most wonderful dream while the bread was baking should have the loaf all to himself. Thinking thus to deceive the peasant, they placed the dough in the ashes and lay down to sleep. But the peasant saw through their trick, arose and ate the loaf when it was half baked, and lay down again. Then one of the burghers, as though frightened by his dream, awoke and called the other. 'What's the matter?' 'I've had a wonderful dream. Two angels opened the gates of heaven and brought me before the Lord.' 'That is a splendid dream,' replied the other; 'but I dreamed that two angels came, clove the earth asunder, and took me into hell.' The peasant heard all this, but nevertheless pretended to be asleep. The burghers, however, who were taken in by their own trick (decepti et decipere volentes), called him to wake up. 'Who is calling me?' he cried in great terror. 'Have you come back?' 'Where should we come back from?' 'Why, I just had a dream in which I saw two angels take one of you and open the gates of heaven and lead him before the Lord; then two angels took the other of you, opened the earth, and led him into hell. And when I saw this, I realized that neither of you would return, so I got up and ate the bread.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1626,The Three Travelers,The Masnavi,Spelling modernized by D. L. Ashliman. Link to the Wikipedia article on the Masnavi. Link to the Wikipedia article on Jalal ad-D īn Muhammad Rumi.,"Jalal ad-D īn Muhammad Rumi, Masnavi I Ma'navi: The Spiritual Couplets (London: Trübner and Company, 1887), book 6, story 7, pp. 304-305.","A Muslim was traveling with two unbelievers, a Jew and a Christian, like wisdom linked with the flesh and the devil. God was 'nigh unto his faithful servant,' and when the first stage was completed he caused a present of sweetmeats to be laid before the travelers. As the Jew and the Christian had already eaten their evening meal when the sweetmeats arrived, they proposed to lay them aside till the morrow; but the Muslim, who was keeping fast, and therefore could not eat before nightfall, proposed to eat them that night. To this the other two refused to consent, alleging that the Muslim wanted to eat the whole of the sweetmeats himself. Then the Muslim proposed to divide them into three portions, so that each might eat his own portion when he pleased; but this also was objected to by the others, who quoted the proverb, 'The divider is in hell.' The Muslim explained to them that this proverb meant the man who divides his allegiance between God and lust; but they still refused to give way, and the Muslim therefore submitted, and lay down to sleep in the endurance of the pangs of hunger. Next morning, when they awoke, it was agreed between them that each should relate his dreams, and that the sweetmeats should be awarded to him whose dream was the best. The Jew said that he had dreamed that Moses had carried him to the top of Mount Sinai, and shown him marvelous visions of the glory of heaven and the angels. The Christian said he had dreamed that Jesus had carried him up to the fourth heaven and shown him all the glories of the heavens. Finally the Muslim said that the Prophet Muhammad had appeared to him in person, and after commending him for his piety in saying his prayers and keeping fast so strictly on the previous night, had commanded him to eat up those divinely provided sweetmeats as a reward, and he had accordingly done so. The Jew and the Christian were at first annoyed with him for thus stealing a march upon them; but on his pointing out that he had no option but to obey the Prophet's commands, they admitted that he had done right, and that his dream was the best, as he had been awake, while they were asleep. The moral is, that the divine treasure is revealed as an immediate intuition to those who seek it with prayer and humble obedience, and not to those who seek to infer and deduce its nature and quality from the lofty abstractions of philosophy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645B,A Man Who Found Gold During His Sleep,Poggio Bracciolini,NA,"Poggio Bracciolini, The facetiae or Jocose Tales, volume 2 (Paris: Isidore Liseux, 1879), no. 130, pp. 14-15.","A friend of ours related, at a party, that one night he had found gold in a dream. 'Mind,' said someone, 'mind the same thing does not befall you, that befell one of my neighbors, whose gold was turned into muck.' Being asked to relate that dream, he said: My neighbor one night dreamt that the devil had led him into a field to dig out gold. When he had found a good lot: 'You are not allowed to carry it away now,' quoth the demon; 'but mark the place, that you may be alone to know it again.' The man enquired what sign he could well use: 'Cack here,' replied the devil. 'It is the best way that nobody should suspect there is gold. None but you will have cognizance of the matter.' The man thought that a good plan, and, awaking forthwith, became aware that he had abominably loosened his bowels in the bed. Rising amid the muck and stench to leave the house, he set on the crown of his head a cap wherein the cat had just done its needs. Enraged at the horrible smell, he had to go and wash the filth off his head and hair. Thus the golden dream had turned to turd.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645B,The Hodja Dreams That He Had Found a Treasure,Attributed to Nasreddin Hodja,NA,"Albert Wesselski Der Hodscha Nasreddin, volume 1 (Weimar: Alexander Duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 314, p. 178.","One night the Hodja dreamed that while traveling he had found a treasure. To mark its location he relieved himself on the spot. Upon awakening he discovered that only the last part of his dream had come true. Then he cried out, 'Lord, why did you leave the mess here for me while taking away the gold? You would have had as much use for the one as for the other!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,A Cobbler in Someretshire,England,"Gomme's source: The Saturday Review, December 28, 1878.","George Laurence Gomme, English Traditions and Foreign Customs (London: Elliot Stock, 1885), pp. 335-36.","When arrived there, he walked about the whole of the first day without anything occurring; the next day was passed in a similar manner. He resumed his place the third day, and walked about till evening, when, giving it up as hopeless, he determined to leave London, and return home. At this moment a stranger came up and said to him, 'I have seen you for the last three days walking up and down this bridge; may I ask if you are waiting for anyone?' The answer was, 'No.' 'Then, what is your object in staying here?' The cobbler then frankly told his reason for being there, and the dream that had visited him three successive nights. The stranger then advised him to go home again to his work, and no more pay any attention to dreams. 'I myself,' he said 'had about six months ago a dream. I dreamt three nights together that, if I would go into Somersetshire, in an orchard, under an apple tree, I should find a pot of gold; but I paid no attention to my dream, and have remained quietly at my business.' It immediately occurred to the cobbler that the stranger described his own orchard and his own apple tree. He immediately returned home, dug under the apple tree, and found a pot of gold. After this increase of fortune, he was enabled to send his son to school, where the boy learnt Latin. When he came home for the holidays, he one day examined the pot which had contained the gold, on which was some writing. He said, 'Father, I can show you what I have learnt at school is of some use.' He then translated the Latin inscription on the pot thus: 'Look under, and you will find better.' They did look under, and a larger quantity of gold was found.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,A Man of Baghdad,Persia,"Wikipedia article about Jalalu-d'-Din Muhammad i Rumi (1207-1273). Wikipedia article about the Masnavi, written between about 1258 and 1273.","Jalalu-d'-Din Muhammad i Rumi, Masnavi i Ma'navi: The Spiritual Couplets (London: Trübner and Company, 1887), p. 322.","An anecdote is told of a man of Baghdad who was in great distress, and who, after calling on God for aid, dreamt that a great treasure lay hid in a certain spot in Egypt. He accordingly journeyed to Egypt, and there fell into the hands of the patrol, who arrested him, and beat him severely on suspicion of being a thief. Calling to mind the proverb that 'falsehood is a mischief but truth a remedy,' he determined to confess the true reason of his coming to Egypt, and accordingly told them all the particulars of his dream. On hearing them they believed him, and one of them said, 'You must be a fool to journey all this distance merely on the faith of a dream. I myself have many times dreamt of a treasure lying hid in a certain spot in Baghdad, but was never foolish enough to go there.' Now the spot in Baghdad named by this person was none other than the house of the poor man of Baghdad, and he straightway returned home, and there found the treasure.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,Dreaming Tim Jarvis,Ireland,Link to additional legends of fairy abduction: Abducted by Aliens.,"Thomas Crofton Croker, Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland, part 2 (London: John Murray, 1828), pp. 221-33.","Timothy Jarvis was a decent, honest, quiet, hard-working man, as every body knows that knows Balledehob. Now Balledehob is a small place, about forty miles west of Cork. It is situated on the summit of a hill, and yet it is in a deep valley; for on all sides there are lofty mountains that rise one above another in barren grandeur, and seem to look down with scorn upon the little busy village, which they surround with their idle and unproductive magnificence. Man and beast have alike deserted them to the dominion of the eagle, who soars majestically over them. On the highest of those mountains there is a small, and as is commonly believed, unfathomable lake, the only inhabitant of which is a huge serpent, who has been sometimes seen to stretch its enormous head above the waters, and frequently is heard to utter a noise which shakes the very rocks to their foundation. But, as I was saying, everybody knew Tim Jarvis to be a decent, honest, quiet, hard-working man, who was thriving enough to be able to give his daughter Nelly a fortune of ten pounds; and Tim himself would have been snug enough besides, but that he loved the drop sometimes. However, he was seldom backward on rent day. His ground was never distrained but twice, and both times through a small bit of a mistake; and his landlord had never but once to say to him, 'Tim Jarvis, you're all behind, Tim, like the cow's tail.' Now it so happened that, being heavy in himself, through the drink, Tim took to sleeping, and the sleep set Tim dreaming, and he dreamed all night, and night after night, about crocks full of gold and other precious stones; so much so, that Norah Jarvis his wife could get no good of him by day, and have little comfort with him by night. The grey dawn of the morning would see Tim digging away in a bog-hole, maybe, or rooting under some old stone walls like a pig. At last he dreamt that he found a mighty great crock of gold and silver, and where, do you think? Every step of the way upon London Bridge, itself! Twice Tim dreamt it, and three times Tim dreamt the same thing; and at last he made up his mind to transport himself, and go over to London, in Pat Mahoney's coaster; and so he did! Well, he got there, and found the bridge without much difficulty. Every day he walked up and down looking for the crock of gold, but never the find did he find it. One day, however, as he was looking over the bridge into the water, a man, or something like a man, with great black whiskers, like a Hessian, and a black cloak that reached down to the ground, taps him on the shoulder, and says he, 'Tim Jarvis, do you see me?' 'Surely I do, sir,' said Tim; wondering that anybody should know him in the strange place. 'Tim,' says he, 'what is it brings you here in foreign parts, so far away from your own cabin by the mine of grey copper at Balledehob?' 'Please your honor,' says Tim, 'I'm come to seek my fortune.' 'You're a fool for your pains, Tim, if that's all,' remarked the stranger in the black cloak; 'this is a big place to seek one's fortune in, to be sure, but it's not so easy to find it.' Now, Tim, after debating a long time with himself, and considering, in the first place, that it might be the stranger who was to find the crock of gold for him; and in the next, that the stranger might direct him where to find it, came to the resolution of telling him all. 'There's many a one like me comes here seeking their fortunes,' said Tim. 'True,'' said the stranger. 'But,' continued Tim, looking up, 'the body and bones of the cause for myself leaving the woman, and Nelly, and the boys, and traveling so far, is to look for a crock of gold that I'm told is lying somewhere hereabouts.' 'And who told you that, Tim?' 'Why, then, sir, that's what I can't tell myself rightly; only I dreamt it.' 'Ho, ho! is that all, Tim?' said the stranger, laughing; 'I had a dream myself; and I dreamed that I found a crock of gold, in the fort field, on Jerry Driscoll's ground at Balledehob; and by the same token, the pit where it lay was close to a large furze bush, all full of yellow blossom.' Tim knew Jerry Driscoll's ground well; and, moreover, he knew the fort field as well as he knew his own potato garden; he was certain, too, of the very furze bush at the north end of it. So, swearing a bitter big oath, says he, 'By all the crosses in a yard of check, I always thought there was money in that same field!' The moment he rapped out the oath the stranger disappeared, and Tim Jarvis, wondering at all that had happened to him, made the best of his way back to Ireland. Norah, as may well be supposed, had no very warm welcome for her runaway husband -- the dreaming blackguard, as she called him -- and so soon as she set eyes upon him, all the blood of her body in one minute was into her knuckles to be at him; but Tim, after his long journey, looked so cheerful and so happy-like, that she could not find it in her heart to give him the first blow! He managed to pacify his wife by two or three broad hints about a new cloak and a pair of shoes, that, to speak honestly, were much wanting to her to go to chapel in; and decent clothes for Nelly to go to the patron with her sweetheart, and brogues for the boys, and some corduroy for himself. 'It wasn't for nothing,' says Tim, 'I went to foreign parts all the ways; and you'll see what'll come out of it -- mind my words.' A few days afterwards Tim sold his cabin and his garden, and bought the fort field of Jerry Driscoll, that had nothing in it, but was full of thistles, and old stones, and blackberry bushes; and all the neighbors -- as well they might -- thought he was cracked! The first night that Tim could summon courage to begin his work, he walked off to the field with his spade upon his shoulder; and away he dug all night by the side of the furze bush, till he came to a big stone. He struck his spade against it, and he heard a hollow sound; but as the morning had begun to dawn, and the neighbors would be going out to their work, Tim, not wishing to have the thing talked about, went home to the little hovel, where Norah and the children were huddled together under a heap of straw; for he had sold everything he had in the world to purchase Driscoll's field, that was said to be 'the back-bone of the world, picked by the devil.' It is impossible to describe the epithets and reproaches bestowed by the poor woman on her unlucky husband for bringing her into such a way. Epithets and reproaches which Tim had but one mode of answering, as thus: 'Norah, did you see e'er a cow you'd like?' -- or, 'Norah, dear, hasn't Poll Deasy a featherbed to sell?' -- or, 'Norah, honey, wouldn't you like your silver buckles as big as Mrs. Doyle's?' As soon as night came Tim stood beside the furze bush spade in hand. The moment he jumped down into the pit he heard a strange rumbling noise under him, and so, putting his ear against the great stone, he listened, and overheard a discourse that made the hair on his head stand up like bulrushes, and every limb tremble. 'How shall we bother Tim?' said one voice. 'Take him to the mountain, to be sure, and make him a toothful for the old serpent; 'tis long since he has had a good meal,' said another voice. Tim shook like a potato blossom in a storm. 'No,' said a third voice; 'plunge him in the bog, neck and heels.' Tim was a dead man, barring the breath. 'Stop!' said a fourth; but Tim heard no more, for Tim was dead entirely. In about an hour, however, the life came back into him, and he crept home to Norah. When the next night arrived the hopes of the crock of gold got the better of his fears, and takings care to arm himself with a bottle of potheen, away he went to the field. Jumping into the pit, he took a little sup from the bottle to keep his heart up -- he then took a big one -- and then, with desperate wrench, he wrenched up the stone. All at once, up rushed a blast of wind, wild and fierce, and down fell Tim -- down, down, and down he went -- until he thumped upon what seemed to be, for all the world, like a floor of sharp pins, which made him bellow out in earnest. Then he heard a whisk and a hurra, and instantly voices beyond number cried out: Welcome, Tim Jarvis, dear! Welcome, down here!' Though Tim's teeth chattered like magpies with the fright, he continued to make answer: 'I'm he-he-har-ti-ly ob-ob-liged to-to you all, gen-gentlemen, fo-for your civility to-to a poor stranger like myself.' But though he had heard all the voices about him, he could see nothing, the place was so dark and so lonesome in itself for want of the light. Then something pulled Tim by the hair of his head, and dragged him, he did not know how far, but he knew he was going faster than the wind, for he heard it behind him, trying to keep up with him, and it could not. On, on, on, he went, till all at once, and suddenly, he was stopped, and somebody came up to him, and said, 'Well, Tim Jarvis, and how do you like your ride?' 'Mighty well! I thank your honor,' said Tim; 'and 'twas a good beast I rode, surely!' There was a great laugh at Tim's answer; and then there was a whispering, and a great cugger mugger, and coshering; and at last a pretty little bit of a voice said, 'Shut your eyes, and you'll see, Tim.' 'By my word, then,' said Tim, 'that is the queer way of seeing; but I'm not the man to gainsay you, so I'll do as you bid me, any how.' Presently he felt a small warm hand rubbed over his eyes with an ointment, and in the next minute he saw himself in the middle of thousands of little men and women, not half so high as his brogue, that were pelting one another with golden guineas and lily-white thirteens, as if they were so much dirt. The finest dressed and the biggest of them all went up to Tim, and says he, 'Tim Jarvis, because you are a decent, honest, quiet, civil, well-spoken man,' says he, 'and know how to behave yourself in strange company, we've altered our minds about you, and will find a neighbor of yours that will do just as well to give to the old serpent.' 'Oh, then, long life to you, sir!' said Tim, 'and there's no doubt of that.' 'But what will you say, Tim,' inquired the little fellow, 'if we fill your pockets with these yellow boys? What will you say, Tim, and what will you do with them?' 'Your honor's honor, and your honor's glory,' answered Tim, 'I'll not be able to say my prayers for one month with thanking you -- and indeed I've enough to do with them. I'd make a grand lady, you see, at once of Norah -- she has been a good wife to me. We'll have a nice bit of pork for dinner; and, maybe, I'd have a glass, or maybe two glasses; or sometimes, if 'twas with a friend, or acquaintance, or gossip, you know, three glasses every day; and I'd build a new cabin; and I'd have a fresh egg every morning, myself, for my breakfast; and I'd snap my fingers at the 'squire, and beat his hounds, if they'd come coursing through my fields; and I'd have a new plow; and Norah, your honor, should have a new cloak, and the boys should have shoes and stockings as well as Biddy Leary's brats -- that's my sister what was -- and Nelly should marry Bill Long of Affadown; and, your honor, I'd have some corduroy for myself to make breeches, and a cow, and a beautiful coat with shining buttons, and a horse to ride, or maybe two. I'd have every thing,' said Tim, 'in life, good or bad, that is to be got for love or money -- hurra-whoop! -- and that's what I'd do.' 'Take care, Tim,' said the little fellow, 'your money would not go faster than it came, with your hurra-whoop.' But Tim heeded not this speech: heaps of gold were around him, and he filled and filled away as hard as he could, his coat and his waistcoat and his breeches pockets; and he thought himself very clever, moreover, because he stuffed some of the guineas into his brogues. When the little people perceived this, they cried out, 'Go home, Tim Jarvis, go home, and think yourself a lucky man.' 'I hope, gentlemen,' said he, 'we won't part for good and all; but maybe ye'll ask me to see you again, and to give you a fair and square account of what I've done with your money.' To this there was no answer, only another shout, 'Go home, Tim Jarvis; go home; fair play is a jewel; but shut your eyes, or ye'll never see the light of day again.' Tim shut his eyes, knowing now that was the way to see clearly; and away he was whisked as before -- away, away he went 'till he again stopped all of a sudden. He rubbed his eyes with his two thumbs -- and where was he? -- Where, but in the very pit in the field that was Jer Driscoll's, and his wife Norah above with a big stick ready to beat 'her dreaming blackguard.' Tim roared out to the woman to leave the life in him, and put his hands in his pockets to show her the gold; but he pulled out nothing only a handful of small stones mixed with yellow furze blossoms. The bush was under him, and the great flag-stone that he had wrenched up, as he thought, was lying, as if it was never stirred, by his side: the whiskey bottle was drained to the last drop; and the pit was just as his spade had made it. Tim Jarvis, vexed, disappointed, and almost heart-broken, followed his wife home; and, strange to say, from that night he left off drinking, and dreaming, and delving in bog-holes, and rooting in old caves. He took again to his hard working habits, and was soon able to buy back his little cabin and former potato garden, and to get all the enjoyment he anticipated from the fairy gold. Give Tim one or, at most, two glasses of whiskey punch (and neither friend, acquaintance, or gossip can make him take more), and he. will relate the story to you much better than you have it here. Indeed it is worth going to Balledehob to hear him tell it. He always pledges himself to the truth of every word with his forefingers crossed; and when he comes to speak of the loss of his guineas, he never fails to console himself by adding: 'If they stayed with me I wouldn't have luck with them, sir; and father O'Shea told me 'twas as well for me they were changed, for if they hadn't, they'd have burned holes in my pocket, and got out that way.' I shall never forget his solemn countenance, and the deep tones of his warning voice, when he concluded his tale, by telling me, that the next day after his ride with the fairies, Mick Dowling was missing, and he believed him to be given to the serpent in his place, as he had never been heard of since. 'The blessing of the saints be between all good men and harm,' was the concluding sentence of Tim Jarvis's narrative, as he flung the remaining drops from his glass upon the green sward.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,Dundonald Castle,Scotland,"Note by Chambers: Dundonald Castle, the scene of King Robert's early attachment and nuptials with the fair Elizabeth (Mure), is situated in Kyle-Stewart, of which, from the remotest period, it appears to have been the chief messuage, about six miles southwest of Rowallan, and approaching within about a mile of the Firth of Clyude. Its situation, on the summit of a beautiful round hill, in the close vicinity of Dundonald Church, is singularly noble and baronial. Although evidently of considerable antiquity, yet certainly another of still greatly more remote origin to the present castle of Dundonald once occupied the same site. To the more remote building may allude the following rude rhyme, if it be not altogether a piece of rustic wit of recent times: There stands a castle in the west, They ca' it Donald Din; There's no nail in a' its proof, Nor yet a wooden pin. --History of the House of Rowallan, p. 50. King Robert died at Dundonald Castle anno 1390. Dr. Johnson and Mr. Boswell visited the ruins on their return from the Hebrides; and the former laughed outright at the idea of a Scottish monarch being accommodated, with his court, in so narrow a mansion.","Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. and R. Chambers, 1870), pp. 236-38.","In Ayrshire, the following rhyme is prevalent, and is probably very old: Donald Din Built his house without a pin, alluding to Dundonald Castle, the ancient seat of King Robert II, and now the last remaining property in Ayrshire of the noble family who take their title from it. According to tradition, it was built by a hero named Donald Din, or Din Donald, and constructed entirely of stone, without the use of wood, a supposition countenanced by the appearance of the building, which consists of three distinct stories, arched over with strong stonework, the roof of one forming the floor of another. Donald, the builder, was originally a poor man, but had the faculty of dreaming lucking dreams. Upon one occasion he dreamed, thrice in one night, that if he were to go to London Bridge, he would become a wealthy man. He went accordingly, saw a man looking over the parapet of the bridge, whom he accosted courteously, and, after a little conversation, entrusted with the secret of the occasion of his coming to London Bridge. The stranger told him that he had made a very foolish errand, for he himself had once had a similar vision, which direct him to go to a certain spot in Ayrshire, in Scotland, where he would find a vast treasure, and, for his part, he had never once thought of obeying the injunction. From his description of the spot, the sly Scotsman at once perceived that the treasure in question must be concealed in no other place than his own humble kail-yard [cabbage patch] at home, to which he immediately repaired, in full expectation of finding it. Nor was he disappointed; for, after destroying many good and promising cabbages, and completely cracking credit with his wife, who esteemed him mad, he found a large potful of gold coin, with the proceeds of which he built a stout castle for himself, and became the founder of a flourishing family. Note by Chambers: Dundonald Castle, the scene of King Robert's early attachment and nuptials with the fair Elizabeth (Mure), is situated in Kyle-Stewart, of which, from the remotest period, it appears to have been the chief messuage, about six miles southwest of Rowallan, and approaching within about a mile of the Firth of Clyude. Its situation, on the summit of a beautiful round hill, in the close vicinity of Dundonald Church, is singularly noble and baronial. Although evidently of considerable antiquity, yet certainly another of still greatly more remote origin to the present castle of Dundonald once occupied the same site. To the more remote building may allude the following rude rhyme, if it be not altogether a piece of rustic wit of recent times: There stands a castle in the west, They ca' it Donald Din; There's no nail in a' its proof, Nor yet a wooden pin. --History of the House of Rowallan, p. 50. King Robert died at Dundonald Castle anno 1390. Dr. Johnson and Mr. Boswell visited the ruins on their return from the Hebrides; and the former laughed outright at the idea of a Scottish monarch being accommodated, with his court, in so narrow a mansion.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,How the Junkman Traveled to Find Treasure in His Own Yard,Turkey,The episode describing the junkman's wife embellishment of his 'secret' is classified as a type 1381D folktale.,"Cyrus Adler and Allan Ramsay, Told in the Coffee House: Turkish Tales (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1898), pp. 35-42.","Often did he moralize on the sad Kismet that had reduced him to the task of daily laboring for his bread to make a shoe, perhaps for an ass. Surely he, a true Muslim, might at least be permitted to ride the ass. His eternal longing often found satisfaction in passing his hours of sleep in dreams of wealth and luxury. But with the dawning of the day came reality and increased longing. Often did he call on the spirit of sleep to reverse matters, but in vain; with the rising of the sun began the gathering of the cinders and iron. One night he dreamt that he begged this nocturnal visitor to change his night to day, and the spirit said to him, 'Go to Egypt, and it shall be so.' This encouraging phrase haunted him by day and inspired him by night. So persecuted was he with the thought that when his wife said to him, from the door, 'Have you brought home any bread?' he would reply, 'No, I have not gone; I will go tomorrow; ' thinking she had asked him, ' Have you gone to Egypt?' At last, when friends and neighbors began to pity poor Ahmet, for that was his name, as a man on whom the hand of Allah was heavily laid, removing his intelligence, he one morning left his house, saying, 'I go! I go! to the land of wealth!' And he left his wife wringing her hands in despair, while the neighbors tried to comfort her. Poor Ahmet went straight on board a boat which he had been told was bound for Iskender (Alexandria), and assured the captain that he was summoned thither, and that he was bound to take him. Half-witted and mad persons being more holy than others, Ahmet was conveyed to Iskender. Arriving in Iskender, Hadji Ahmet roamed far and wide, proceeding as far as Cairo, in search of the luxuries he had enjoyed at Constantinople when in the land of Morpheus, which he had been promised to enjoy in the sunshine, if he came to Egypt. Alas! for Hadji Ahmet; the only bread he had to eat was that which was given him by sympathizing humanity. Time sped on, sympathy was growing tired of expending itself on Hadji Ahmet, and his crusts of bread were few and far between. Wearied of life and suffering, he decided to ask Allah to let him die, and wandering out to the pyramids he solicited the stones to have pity and fall on him. It happened that a Turk heard this prayer, and said to him, 'Why so miserable, father? Has your soul been so strangled that you prefer its being dashed out of your body, to its remaining the prescribed time in bondage?' 'Yes, my son,' said Hadji Ahmet. 'Far away in Stamboul, with the help of God, I managed as a junkman to feed my wife and myself; but here am I, in Egypt, a stranger, alone and starving, with possibly my wife already dead of starvation, and all this through a dream.' 'Alas! Alas! my father! that you at your age should be tempted to wander so far from home and friends, because of a dream. Why, were I to obey my dreams, I would at this present moment be in Stamboul, digging for a treasure that lies buried under a tree. I can even now, although I have never been there, describe where it is. In my mind's eye I see a wall, a great wall, that must have been built many years ago, and supporting or seeming to support this wall are towers with many corners, towers that are round, towers that are square, and others that have smaller towers within them. In one of these towers, a square one, there live an old man and woman, and close by the tower is a large tree, and every night when I dream of the place, the old man tells me to dig and disclose the treasure. But, father, I am not such a fool as to go to Stamboul and seek to verify this. It is an oft-repeated dream and nothing more. See what you have been reduced to by coming so far.' 'Yes,' said Hadji Ahmet, 'it is a dream and nothing more, but you have interpreted it. Allah be praised, you have encouraged me; I will return to my home.' And Hadji Ahmet and the young stranger parted, the one grateful that it had pleased Allah to give him the power to revive and encourage a drooping spirit, and the other grateful to Allah that when he had despaired of life a stranger should come and give him the interpretation of his dream. He certainly had wandered far and long to learn that the treasure was in his own garden. Hadji Ahmet in due course, much to the astonishment of both wife and neighbors, again appeared upon the scene not a much changed man. In fact, he was the cinder and iron gatherer of old. To all questions as to where he was and what he had been doing, he would answer, 'A dream sent me away, and a dream brought me back.' And the neighbors would say, 'Truly he must be blessed.' One night Hadji Ahmet went to the tree, provided with spade and pick, that he had secured from an obliging neighbor. After digging a short time a heavy case was brought to view, in which he found gold, silver, and precious jewels of great value. Hadji Ahmet replaced the case and earth and returned to bed, much lamenting that it had pleased God to furnish women, more especially his wife, with a long tongue, long hair, and very short wits. 'Alas!' he thought, 'If I tell my wife, I may be hung as a robber, for it is against the laws of nature for a woman to keep a secret.' Yet, becoming more generous when thinking of the years of toil and hardship she had shared with him, he decided to try and see if, by chance, his wife was not an exception to other women. Who knows, she might keep the secret. To test her, at no risk to himself and the treasure, he conceived a plan. Crawling from his bed, he sallied forth and bought, found, or stole an egg. This egg on the following morning he showed to his wife, and said to her, 'Alas! I fear I am not as other men, for evidently in the night I laid this egg; and, wife mine, if the neighbors hear of this, your husband, the long-suffering Hadji Ahmet, will be bastinadoed, bowstrung, and burned to death. Ah, truly, my soul is strangled.' And without another word Hadji Ahmet, with a sack on his shoulder, went forth to gather the cast-off shoes of horse, ox, or ass, wondering if his wife would prove an exception in this, as she had in many other ways, to other women. In the evening he returned, heavily laden with his finds, and as he neared home he heard rumors, ominous rumors, that a certain Hadji Ahmet, who had been considered a holy man, had done something that was unknown in the history of man, even in the history of hens: that he had laid a dozen eggs. Needless to add that Hadji Ahmet did not tell his wife of the treasure, but daily went forth with his sack to gather iron and cinders, and invariably found, when separating his finds of the day, in company with his wife, at first one, and then more gold and silver pieces, and now and then a precious stone.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,Numan's Dream,Turkey,In Gibbs's translation the hero's name is given as Nu'mān.,"Sheykh-Zada, 'The Twenty-Sixth Vezir's Story,' The History of the Forty Vezirs; or, The Story of the Forty Morns and Eves, translated by E. J. W. Gibb (London: George Redway, 1886), pp. 278-84.","There was of old time in the city of Cairo a man called Numan, and he had a son. One day when this boy's time to learn to read was fully come he took him to a school and gave to a teacher. This Numan was exceeding poor, so that he followed the calling of a water seller, and in this way he supported his wife and child. When the teacher had made the boy read through the Koran, he told the boy to fetch him his present. So the boy came and told his father. His father said, 'O son, the Koran is the Word of God Most High, we have nothing worthy of it; there is our camel with which I follow my trade of water seller, take it at least and give it to thy teacher.' The boy took the camel and brought it to his teacher. But that day his father could gain no money, and that night his wife and his son and himself remained hungry. Now his wife was a great scold, and when she saw this thing she said, 'Out on thee, husband, art thou mad? Where are thy senses gone? Thou hadst a camel, and by means of it we made shift to live, and now thou hast taken and given it in a present; would that that boy had not been born, or that thou hadst not sent him to read; what is he and what his reading?' And she made so much noise and clamor that it cannot be described. Numan saw this thing, and he bowed down his head, and from the greatness of his distress he fell asleep. In his dream a radiant elder, white-bearded and clad in white raiment, came and said, 'O Numan, thy portion is in Damascus; go, take it.' Just then Numan awoke and he saw no one, and he arose and said, 'Is the vision divine or is it satanic?' While saying this, he again fell asleep, and again he saw it. Brief, the elder appeared three times to him that night in his dream and said, 'Indeed is thy provision in Damascus; delay not, go to Damascus and take it.' When it was morning Numan spake to his wife of the vision; his wife said, 'Thou gavest away our camel and didst leave us hungry, and now thou canst not abide our complaints and wishest to run off; I fear thou wilt leave thy child and me here and go off.' Numan said, 'My life, I will not run off.' Quoth the woman, 'I will not bide, I will not bide; where thou goest I too will go with thee.' Numan sware that he would not run off, and the woman was persuaded and let him go. So Numan went forth; and one day he entered Damascus, and he went in through the gate of the Amawi Mosque. That day someone had baked bread in an oven and was taking it to his house; when he saw Numan opposite him and knew him to be a stranger, he gave him a loaf. Numan took it and ate it, and lay down through fatigue and fell asleep. That elder again came to him in his vision and said, '0 Numan, thou hast received thy provision; delay not, go back to thy house.' Numan awoke and was amazed and said, 'Then our bearing this much trouble and weariness was for a loaf.' And he returned. One day he entered his house, and the woman looked and saw there was nothing in his hand; and Numan told her. When the woman learned that Numan had brought nothing, she turned and said, 'Out on thee, husband, thou art become mad, thou art a worthless man; had thy senses been in thy head, thou hadst not given away our camel, the source of our support, and left us thus friendless and hungry and thirsty; not a day but thou doest some mad thing.' And she complained much. And Numan's heart was broken by the weariness of the road and the complaining of the woman, and he fell asleep. Again in his vision that elder came and said, 'O Numan, delay not, arise, dig close by thee, thy provision is there, take it.' But Numan heeded not. Three times the elder appeared to him in his dream and said, 'Thy provision is indeed close by thee; arise, take it.' So Numan, unable to resist, arose and took a pick-axe and shovel and began to dig where his head had lain. The woman made mock of Numan and said, 'Out on thee, man; the half of the treasure revealed to thee is mine.' Numan replied, 'So be it; but I am weary, come thou and dig a bit that I may take breath a little.' The woman said, 'Thou art not weary now; when thou art weary I will help.' Numan went on: and when he had dug as deep as half the height of a man, a marble slab appeared. The woman saw the marble and, saying in herself, 'This is not empty,' she asked the pick-axe from Numan. Numan said, 'Have patience a little longer.' The woman said, 'Thou art weary.' Numan replied, 'Now am I rested.' Quoth the woman, 'I am sorry for thee, thou dost not know kindness.' While thus talking they saw that one side of that marble was pierced and that there was a hole. Thereupon grew Numan eager, and he pulled the marble from its place, and below it was a well and a ladder. He caught hold of the ladder and went down and saw a royal vase filled full with red gold, and he called out to the woman, 'Come here.' Thereupon the woman descended likewise and saw the vase of gold, and she threw her arms round Numan's neck and said, 'O my noble little husband! Blessed be God, for thy luck and thy fortune.' Numan took up some of these sequins, and the woman said, 'What wilt thou do?' Numan replied, 'I shall take these to our king and tell him that there is a vase full of them, and that an elder came to me in my dream and told me, and I shall say, 'Take them all; and, if thou wilt, bestow on me a few of them that I and my wife may eat and drink, and in our comfort may bless and praise thee.'' Quoth the woman, 'My life, husband, speak not to our king now, so that all of them may remain ours and we shall have ease of heart.' Numan listened not, but took them and laid them before the king. The king said, 'What is this?' Numan answered, 'O king, I found them in thy ground.' And he told of the elder's coming in his dream and of there being a vase full of them, and said, 'O king, send a slave of thine, and he will return; and I shall accept the king's alms, whatever it may be.' The king said to a scribe, 'Come, read this, let us see from whose time it has remained.' When the scribe took the sequin into his hand he saw that there was written on the one side of it, 'This is an alms from before God to Numan.' Then the scribe turned over the other side and saw that it was thus written on that side, 'By reason of his respect toward the Koran.' When the scribe had read the inscriptions to the king, the king said, 'What is thy name?' He replied, 'My name is Numan.' The king caused all these sequins to be read, and the writing on the whole of them was the same. The king said, 'Go ye and bring some from the bottom of the vase.' And they went and brought some from the bottom of the vase, and they read them, and they all bore the inscription of the first. And the king wondered and said, 'Go, poor man, God Most High has given it thee, on my part too be it lawful for thee; come, take these sequins also.' So Numan took them and went to his house, and he took out the sequins that were in the vase; and he enjoyed delight in the world until he died, and in the hereafter he attained a lofty station. And all this felicity was for his respect to the glorious Koran.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Bridge of the Kist,Ireland,Lady Gregory's source: John Phelan. Lady Gregory does not give this piece a title.,"Source (books.google.com): Bampton Hunt, Folk Tales of Breffny (London: Macmillan and Company, 1912), no. 09, pp. 83-88. Source (Internet Archive): Bampton Hunt, Folk Tales of Breffny (London: Macmillan and Company, 1912), no. 09, pp. 83-88.","There was once a man the name of Michael Hugh, and he was tormented with dreams of a kist was buried in under a bridge in England. For awhile he took no heed to the visions were with him in the stillness of the night, but at long last the notion grew in his mind that he be to visit that place and find out was there anything in it. 'I could make right use of a treasure,' thinks he to himself. 'For 'tis heart scalded I am with dwelling in poverty, and a great weariness is on me from toiling for a miserable wage.' Then he bethought of the foolishness of making the journey if all turned out a deceit. 'Sure I'll be rid of belief in the dreams are driving me daft with their grandeur and perseverance,' says he. 'Evenly failure will bring a sort of satisfaction for I'll get fooling whatever spirit does be bringing the vision upon me.' So my brave Michael Hugh took an ash plant in his hand, and away with him oversea to England to discover the bridge of the kist. He was a twelvemonth travelling and rambling with no success to rise his heart, and he began for to consider he had better return to his own place. But just as he was making ready to turn didn't he chance on a strong flowing river, and the sight near left his eyes when he found it was spanned by the bridge he was after dreaming of. Well Michael Hugh went over and he looked down on the black depth of water was flowing in under the arch. 'It'll be a hard thing surely to be digging for a kist in that place,' says he. 'I'm thinking a man would find a sore death and no treasure at all if he lepped into the flood. But maybe it's laid out for me to gather my fortune here, and some person may come for to give me instruction.' With that he walked up and down over the bridge, hoping for further advice since he could not contrive a wisdom for his use. There was a house convenient to the river, and after awhile a man came from it. 'Are you waiting on any person in this place?' says he to Michael Hugh. 'It's bitter weather to be abroad and you be to be as hardy as a wild duck to endure the cold blast on the bridge.' 'I'm hardy surely,' Michael Hugh makes his answer. 'But 'tis no easy matter to tell if I'm waiting on any person.' 'You're funning me,' says the Englishman. 'How would you be abroad without reason, and you having a beautiful wise countenance on you?' With that Michael Hugh told him the story of the dreams that brought him from Ireland, and how he was expectant of a sign to instruct him to come at the kist. The Englishman let a great laugh. 'You're a simple fellow,' says he. 'Let you give up heeding the like of visions and ghosts, for there is madness in the same and no pure reason at all. There's few has more nor better knowledge than myself of how they be striving to entice us from our work, but I'm a reasonable man and I never gave in to them yet.' 'Might I make so free as to ask,' says Michael Hugh, 'what sort of a vision are you after resisting?' 'I'll tell you and welcome,' says the Englishman. 'There isn't a night of my life but I hear a voice calling: 'Away with you to Ireland, and seek out a man the name of Michael Hugh. There is treasure buried in under a lone bush in his garden, and that is in Breffny of Connacht.'' The poor Irishman was near demented with joy at the words, for he understood he was brought all that journey to learn of gold was a stone's throw from his own little cabin door. But he was a conny sort of a person, and he never let on to the other that Michael Hugh was the name of him, nor that he came from Breffny of Connacht. The Englishman invited him into his house for to rest there that night, and he didn't spare his advice that dreams were a folly and sin. 'You have me convinced of the meaning of my visions,' says Michael Hugh. 'And what's more I'll go home as you bid me.' Next morning he started out, and he made great haste with the desire was on him to get digging the gold. When he came to his own place in Connacht he made straight for a loy and then for the lone bush. Not a long was he digging before he hoked out a precious crock full of treasure, and he carried it into the house. There was a piece of a flag stone lying on top of the gold, and there was a writing cut into it. What might be the meaning of that Michael Hugh had no notion, for the words were not Gaelic nor English at all. It happened one evening that a poor scholar came in for to make his cailee. 'Can you read me that inscription, mister?' asks Michael Hugh, bringing out the flag. 'Aye surely,' says the poor scholar. 'That is a Latin writing, and I am well learned in the same.' 'What meaning is in it?' asks the other. ''The same at the far side,'' says the scholar. 'And that is a droll saying surely when it gives no information beyond.' 'Maybe it will serve my turn, mister!' says Michael Hugh, in the best of humour. After the scholar was gone on his way, didn't himself take the loy and out to the garden. He began for to dig at the far side of the lone bush, and sure enough he found a second beautiful kist the dead spit of the first. It was great prosperity he enjoyed from that out. And he bought the grandest of raiment, the way the neighbours began for to call him Michael Hughie the Cock. Limerick I heard of a man from Mayo went to Limerick, and walked two or three times across the bridge there. And a cobbler that was sitting on the bridge took notice of him, and knew by the look of him and by the clothes he wore that he was from Mayo, and asked him what was he looking for. And he said he had a dream that under the bridge of Limerick he'd find treasure. 'Well,' says the cobbler, 'I had a dream myself about finding treasure, but in another sort of a place than this.' And he described the place where he dreamed it was, and where was that, but in the Mayo man's own garden. So he went home again, and sure enough, there he found a pot of gold with no end of riches in it. But I never heard that the cobbler found anything under the bridge at Limerick. 36-37.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Church at Erritsø,Denmark,"Two closely related Danish-language legends, both recorded by J. M. Thiele in his Danmarks Folkesagn, vol. 1 (Copenhagen: Universitetsboghandler C. A. Reitzels Forlag, 1843): 'Kirken i Erritsø,' p. 246. 'Skatten i Tanslet,' p. 357. 'Kirken i Erritsø,' p. 246. 'Skatten i Tanslet,' p. 357.","Benjamin Thorpe, Northern Mythology, Comprising the Popular Traditions and Superstitions of Scandinavia, North Germany, and the Netherlands, vol. 2 (London: Edward Lumley, 1851), pp. 253-54.","Many years ago there lived at Erritsø, near Fredericia, a very poor man, who one day said, 'If I had a large sum of money, I would build a church for the parish.' The following night he dreamed that if he went to the south bridge at Veile, he would make his fortune. He followed the intimation, and strolled backwards and forwards on the bridge, until it grew late, but without seeing any sign of his good fortune. When just on the point of returning, he was accosted by an officer, who asked him why he had spent the whole day so on the bridge. He told him his dream, on hearing which the officer related to him in return, that he also, on the preceding night, had dreamed, that in a barn at Erritsø, belonging to a man whose name he mentioned, a treasure lay buried. But the name he mentioned was the man's own, who prudently kept his own counsel, hastened home, and found the treasure in his barn. The man was faithful to his word and built the church.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Dream of the Treasure on the Bridge,Germany,"Link to the text by Agricola: Es hat eynem auff eyn zeit getrewmet er solt gen Regenspurg gehen auff die brucken / da solt er reich werden. Source: Johannes Agricola, Sibenhundert Vnnd Fünfftzig Teutscher Sprüchwörter (1541), no. 623.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Traum vom Schatz auf der Brücke,' Deutsche Sagen, vol. 1 (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 211, pp. 290-91. In later editions this legend is numbered 212.","Some time ago a man dreamed that he should go to the bridge at Regensburg where he would become rich. He went there, and after spending some fourteen days there a wealthy merchant, who wondered why was spending so much time on the bridge, approached him and asked him what he was doing there. The latter answered, 'I dreamed that I was to go to the bridge at Regensburg, where I would become rich.' 'What?' said the merchant, 'You came here because of a dream? Dreams are fantasies and lies. Why I myself dreamed that there is a large pot of gold buried beneath that large tree over there.' And he pointed to the tree. 'But I paid no attention, for dreams are fantasies.' Then the visitor went and dug beneath the tree, where he found a great treasure that made him rich, and thus his dream was confirmed. Agricola adds: 'I have often heard this from my dear father.' This legend is also told about other cities, for example about Lübeck (or Kempen), where a baker's servant dreams that he will find a treasure on the bridge. Upon going there and walking back and forth, a beggar speaks to him, telling how he has dreamed that a treasure lies beneath a linden tree in the churchyard at Möln (or at Dordrecht beneath a bush) but that he is not about to go there. The baker's servant answers, 'Yes, dreams are often nothing but foolishness. I will give my bridge-treasure to you.' With that he departed and dug up the treasure from beneath the linden tree.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Dream of the Zirl Bridge,Austria,NA,"Ignaz D. Zingerle, 'Der Traum von der Zirler Brücke,' Sagen aus Tirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1891), no. 624, pp. 353-54.","It was not going well for the peasant of G. in Rinn, and his shoes pinched him on all sides. Once he dreamed that he should go to the bridge at Zirl where he would discover something important. After having the same dream the following night he shared this information with his wife and declared that he wanted to go to Zirl. But his old woman would not allow this, saying, 'Why do you want to waste an entire day and wear out your shoes for nothing? You will not have as much as a green twig to show for yourself!' So he remained unhappily at home, but behold, the next night he had exactly the same dream again. He arose very early and hurried to Zirl. At sunrise he was already standing by the bridge there. After walking back and forth for a quarter hour, he was approached by a goat herder who wished him a good morning, then drove his herd onward. He did not see anyone for a long time after that. Noon finally arrived, and hunger was tormenting him. He took a piece of Turkish bread [a confection made from peanuts] from his pocket and let it suffice, for he was not going to leave the bridge for any price. But however long he waited, no one came to him. He was losing his patience, and he was irritated by the thought of how his wife would laugh at him and ridicule him for his gullibility. But he nevertheless held out, until finally the sun was about to set, and the goat herder returned with his herd. He was more that a little surprised to see that the man from Rinn was still there, and he asked him why he had been waiting there so long. 'You see,' said the peasant, 'I dreamed that if I were to go to the Zirl bridge that I would discover something important.' 'Indeed!' answered the goat herder, laughing. 'And I dreamed that if I were to go to G. in Rinn that I would find a pot of gold beneath the hearth.' The man from Rinn had now heard enough. He ran home to see if the herder's words were true. Arriving home late in the evening, he secretly dismantled his hearth at once, and he did indeed find a pot completely filled with gold. Thus he became the richest peasant far and wide. (Zillertal) 624, pp. 353-54.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Dream of Treasure,Austria,NA,"Johann Nepumuk Ritter von Alpenburg, 'Geträumter Schatz,' Deutsche Alpensagen (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1861), no. 331, pp. 313-14.","On the Tyrolean border near Wopnitz there lived a peasant from Krain whose name was Japnig. His domestic situation had fallen to the point that he feared his few remaining goods would be confiscated by the authorities. One night he dreamed he should go to Stall in the Möll Valley, and, according to the dream, he would find a treasure on his way there. Japnig found this dream very striking, so he set forth immediately. Underway he met an old invalid on a bridge, who, as is customary asked him how far he was going. 'To Stall,' answered the peasant, then added, 'And you?' 'I don't know' answered the invalid, 'I have neither home nor money.' This all-too-frequent topic of conversation gave the two common ground, and they complained to one another about their hard times. Finally the peasant told the old soldier about his dream. The latter laughed into his face and said, 'Anyone can dream about treasure. I myself have dreamed three times that there was a treasure in the hearth of someone named Japnig, or was it Havenot -- have you ever heard such a horrible name? What good is this to me? Do I even know if such a fellow exists? Dreams are foam.' Japnig was right startled to hear his name. He became still as a mouse, then said farewell to the soldier. He did not go to Stall, but after a small detour returned immediately to his home in Wopnitz, where he forthwith began to tear apart his hearth. His wife thought that he had gone mad, but mortared into the hearth he found a pot filled with thalers, which solved all of Japnig's difficulties. According to another legend, Japnig walked all the way to the bridge at Prague where he met the old soldier. That would have been a great distance, but this frequently told legend always features a bridge, with the favorites being at Innsbruck, Regensburg, or Prague.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Dream of Treasure under the Bridge at Limerick,Ireland,Lady Gregory's source: John Phelan. Lady Gregory does not give this piece a title.,"Lady Isabelle Augusta Gregory, Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland, 2nd series (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1920), pp. 36-37.","'Well,' says the cobbler, 'I had a dream myself about finding treasure, but in another sort of a place than this.' And he described the place where he dreamed it was, and where was that, but in the Mayo man's own garden. So he went home again, and sure enough, there he found a pot of gold with no end of riches in it. But I never heard that the cobbler found anything under the bridge at Limerick.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Peddler of Swaffham,England,"Hartland's source: The Diary of Abraham de la Pryme, the Yorkshire Antiquary (Durham: Andrews and Company, 1870), pp. 219-20. De la Pryme lived from 1671 to 1704. Another version of this legend: Joseph Jacobs, 'The Pedlar of Swaffham,' More English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 91-93.","Edwin Sidney Hartland, English Fairy and Other Folk Tales (London: Walter Scott Publishing Company, ca. 1890), pp. 76-77.","Constant tradition says that there lived in former times in Soffham (Swaffham), alias Sopham, in Norfolk, a certain peddler, who dreamed that if he went to London Bridge, and stood there, he should hear very joyful news, which he at first slighted, but afterwards, his dream being doubled and trebled upon him, he resolved to try the issue of it, and accordingly went to London, and stood on the bridge there two or three days, looking about him, but heard nothing that might yield him any comfort. At last it happened that a shopkeeper there, hard by, having noted his fruitless standing, seeing that he neither sold any wares nor asked any alms, went to him and most earnestly begged to know what he wanted there, or what his business was; to which the peddler honestly answered that he had dreamed that if he came to London and stood there upon the bridge he should hear good news; at which the shopkeeper laughed heartily, asking him if he was such a fool as to take a journey on such a silly errand, adding, 'I'll tell you, country fellow, last night I dreamed that I was at Sopham, in Norfolk, a place utterly unknown to me where I thought that behind a peddler's house in a certain orchard, and under a great oak tree, if I dug I should find a vast treasure! Now think you,' says he, 'that I am such a fool to take such a long journey upon me upon the instigation of a silly dream? No, no. I'm wiser. Therefore, good fellow, learn wit from me, and get you home, and mind your business.' The peddler observing his words, what he had said he dreamed, and knowing they concerned him, glad of such joyful news, went speedily home, and dug and found a prodigious great treasure, with which he grew exceeding rich; and Soffham (Church) being for the most part fallen down, he set on workmen and rectified it most sumptuously, at his own charges; and to this day there is his statue therein, but in stone, with his pack at his back and his dog at his heels; and his memory is also preserved by the same form or picture in most of the old glass windows, taverns, and alehouses of that town unto this day. Hartland's source: The Diary of Abraham de la Pryme, the Yorkshire Antiquary (Durham: Andrews and Company, 1870), pp. 219-20. De la Pryme lived from 1671 to 1704.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Ruined Man Who Became Rich Again Through a Dream,1001 Nights,"Since its first translation into a European language between 1704 and 1717, The Thousand and One Nights, also known as The Arabian Nights, has been recognized as a universal classic of fantasy narrative. It is, of course, a much older work and one with a complicated genealogy. Based on Indian, Persian, and Arab folklore, this work dates back at least 1000 years as a unified collection, with many of its individual stories undoubtedly being even older. One of the collection's forebears is a book of Persian tales, likely of Indian origin, titled A Thousand Legends. These stories were translated into Arabic about 850, and at least one reference from about the year 950 calls them The Thousand and One Nights. Arabic stories, primarily from Baghdad and Cairo were added to the ever evolving collection, which by the early 1500's had assumed its more-or-less final form.","The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated by John Payne, vol. 4 (London: Printed for subscribers only, 1884), pp. 134-35. Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman.","So he set out for Cairo; but, when he arrived there, night overtook him and he lay down to sleep in a mosque. Presently, as fate would have it, a company of thieves entered the mosque and made their way thence into an adjoining house; but the people of the house, being aroused by the noise, awoke and cried out; whereupon the chief of the police came to their aid with his officers. The robbers made off; but the police entered the mosque and finding the man from Baghdad asleep there, laid hold of him and beat him with palm-rods, till he was well-nigh dead. Then they cast him into prison, where he abode three days, after which the chief of the police sent for him and said to him, 'Whence art thou?' 'From Baghdad,' answered he. 'And what brought thee to Cairo?' asked the magistrate. Quoth the Baghdadi, 'I saw in a dream one who said to me, 'Thy fortune is at Cairo; go thither to it.' But when I came hither, the fortune that he promised me proved to be the beating I had of thee. The chief of the police laughed, till he showed his jaw teeth, and said, 'O man of little wit, thrice have I seen in a dream one who said to me, 'There is in Baghdad a house of such a fashion and situate so-and-so, in the garden whereof is a fountain and thereunder a great sum of money buried. Go thither and take it.' Yet I went not; but thou, of thy little wit, hast journeyed from place to place, on the faith of a dream, which was but an illusion of sleep.' Then he gave him money, saying, 'This is to help thee back to thy native land.' Now the house he had described was the man's own house in Baghdad; so the latter returned thither, and digging underneath the fountain in his garden, discovered a great treasure; and [thus] God gave him abundant fortune.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,The Swaffham Legend,England,NA,"John Glyde, The Norfolk Garland: A Collection of the Superstitious Beliefs and Practices, Proverbs, Curious Customs, Ballads, and Songs of the People of Norfolk (London: Jarrold and Sons, 1872), pp. 68-70.","It is said that this tinker dreamed that if he went to London Bridge he would, to use the phraseology of a certain class of advertisements, 'hear of something greatly to his advantage.' Nothing daunted by the difficulties of so long a journey five hundred years ago, when, not to utter a hint of railroads, even stage coaches had not been invented, the tinker heeded the voice of his good spirit, and went to London. After standing about the bridge for several hours -- some versions of the legend mention the traditional three days -- a man accosted him, and invited him to unfold the nature of his errand. With candor quite equal to his faith, John Chapman replied that he came there on the 'vain errand of a dream.' Now it appears that the stranger was a dreamer also, but, unlike the tinker, he was neither superstitious nor imprudent. 'Alas! good friend,' said he, 'if I had heeded dreams, I might have proved myself as very a fool as thou art, for 'tis not long since I dreamt that at a place called Swaffham in Norfolk dwelt John Chapman, a pedlar, who hath a tree at the back of his house, under which is buried a pot of money.' John Chapman, of course, on hearing this hastened home, dug under his tree, and very soon found the treasure. But not all of it. The box that he found had a Latin inscription on the lid, which of course John Chapman could not decipher. But though unlettered, he was not without craftiness and a certain kind of wisdom, so in the hope that some unsuspicious wayfarer might read the inscriptiou in his hearing, he placed it in his window. It was not long before he heard some youths turn the Latin sentence into an English couplet: With a heart overflowing with gratitude for his good fortune, the tinker shortly afterwards, when the inhabitants of Swaffham wished to re-edify their church, astonished the whole town by offering to defray the expense of a large portion of the works. On the ends of the oaken bench nearest the pulpit, there is the carved effigy of John Chapman on one side and that of his dog on the other, and this is sufficient to establish the truth of the legend in the minds of the credulous of the district.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,Themselves,Isle of Man,"Themselves and Little Fellows are circumlocutions for fairies, who do not like to be referred to directly.","Sophia Morrison, Manx Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1911), pp. 1-2.","There was a man once in the Isle of Man who met one of the Little Fellows, and the Little Fellow told him that if he would go to London Bridge and dig, he would find a fortune. So he went, and when he got there he began to dig, and another man came to him and said, 'What are you doing?' 'One of Themselves told me to come to London Bridge and I would get a fortune,' says he. And the other man said, 'I dreamed that I was back in the lil' islan' an' I was at a house with a thorn tree at the chimley of it, and if I would dig there I would find a fortune. But I wouldn' go, for it was only foolishness.' Then he told him so plainly about the house that the first man knew it was his own, so he went back to the Island. When he got home he dug under the little thorn tree by the chimney and he found an iron box. He opened the box, and it was full of gold, and there was a letter in it, but he could not read the letter because it was in a foreign language. So he put it in the smithy window and challenged any scholar who went by to read it. None of them could, but at last one big boy said it was Latin and it meant, 'Dig again and you'll find another.' So the man dug again under the thorn tree, and what did he find but another iron box full of gold! And from that day till the day of his death, that man used to open the front door before going to bed, and call out, 'My blessing with the Little Fellows!' Themselves and Little Fellows are circumlocutions for fairies, who do not like to be referred to directly.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1645,Upsall Castle,England,"Gutch's source: William Grainge, 'Crocks of Gold,' The Vale of Mowbray: A Historical and Topographical Account of Thirsk and Its Neighbourhood (London: Simpkin, Marshall, and Company, 1859), pp. 277-78.","Eliza Gutch, County Folk-Lore, vol. 2: Examples of Printed Folk-Lore Concerning the North Riding of Yorkshire, York, and the Ainsty (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by David Nutt, 1901), pp. 408-409.","Many years ago there resided in the village of Upsall a man who dreamed three nights successively that if he went to London Bridge he would hear of something greatly to his advantage. He went, traveling the whole distance from Upsall to London on foot. Arrived there, he took his station on the bridge, where he waited till his patience was nearly exhausted, and the idea that he had acted a very foolish part began to arise in his mind. At length he was accosted by a Quaker, who kindly inquired what he was waiting there so long for. After some hesitation, he told his dreams. The Quaker laughed at his simplicity, and told him that he had had that night a very curious dream himself, which was, that if he went and dug under a certain bush in Upsall Castle in Yorkshire, he would find a pot of gold; but he did not know where Upsall was, and inquired of the countryman if he knew, who, seeing some advantage in secrecy, pleaded ignorance of the locality; and then, thinking his business in London was completed, returned immediately home, dug beneath the bush, and there he found a pot filled with gold, and on the cover an inscription in a language he did not understand. The pot and cover were, however, preserved at the village inn, where one day a bearded stranger like a Jew made his appearance, saw the pot, and read the inscription, the plain English of which was: The man of Upsall, hearing this, resumed his spade, returned to the bush, dug deeper, and found another pot filled with gold far more valuable than the first. Encouraged by this, he dug deeper still, and found another yet more valuable. This story has been related of other places, but Upsall appears to have as good a claim to this yielding of hidden treasure as the best of them. Here we have the constant tradition of the inhabitants, and the identical bush still remains beneath which the treasure was found -- an elder near the northwest corner of the ruins.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
402,East of the Sun and West of the Moon,NA,Link to the text in Norwegian: Østenfor sol og vestenfor måne. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 425A.,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), no. 36, pp. 266-80.","Once upon a time there was a poor peasant who had so many children that he did not have enough of either food or clothing to give them. Pretty children they all were, but the prettiest was the youngest daughter, who was so lovely there was no end to her loveliness. One day -- it was on a Thursday evening late in the fall -- the weather was wild and rough outside, and it was cruelly dark. The rain was falling and the wind blowing, until the walls of the cottage shook. They were all sitting around the fire busy with this thing and that. Then all at once something gave three taps on the window. The father went out to see what was the matter. Outside, what should he see but a great big white bear. 'Good evening to you,' said the white bear. 'The same to you,' said the man. 'Will you give me your youngest daughter? If you will, I'll make you as rich as you are now poor,' said the bear. Well, the man would not be at all sorry to be so rich; but still he thought he must have a bit of a talk with his daughter first; so he went in and told them how there was a great white bear waiting outside, who had given his word to make them so rich if he could only have the youngest daughter. The girl said 'No!' outright. Nothing could get her to say anything else; so the man went out and settled it with the white bear, that he should come again the next Thursday evening and get an answer. Meantime he talked to his daughter, and kept on telling her of all the riches they would get, and how well off she herself would be. At last she agreed to it, so she washed and mended her rags, and made herself as smart as she could. Soon she was ready for the trip, for she didn't have much to take along. The next Thursday evening came the white bear to fetch her. She got on his back with her bundle, and off they went. After they had gone a good way, the white bear said, 'Are you afraid?' No, she wasn't. 'Just hold tight to my shaggy coat, and there's nothing to be afraid of,' said the bear. She rode a long, long way, until they came to a large steep cliff. The white bear knocked on it. A door opened, and they came into a castle, where there were many rooms all lit up; rooms gleaming with silver and gold. Further, there was a table set there, and it was all as grand as grand could be. Then the white bear gave her a silver bell; and when she wanted anything, she only had to ring it, and she would get it at once. Well, after she had eaten, and it became evening, she felt sleepy from her journey, and thought she would like to go to bed, so she rang the bell. She had barely rung it before she found herself in a room, where there was a bed made as fair and white as anyone would wish to sleep in, with silken pillows and curtains, and gold fringe. All that was in the room was gold or silver. After she had gone to bed, and put out the light, a man came and laid himself alongside her. It was the white bear, who cast off his pelt at night; but she never saw him, for he always came after she had put out the light. Before the day dawned he was up and off again. Things went on happily for a while, but at last she became quiet and sad. She was alone all day long, and she became very homesick to see her father and mother and brothers and sisters. So one day, when the white bear asked what was wrong with her, she said it was so lonely there, and how she longed to go home to see her father and mother and brothers and sisters, and that was why she was so sad, because she couldn't get to them. 'Well,' said the bear, 'that can happen all right, but you must promise me, not to talk alone with your mother, but only when the others are around to hear. She will want to take you by the hand and lead you into a room to talk alone with her. But you must not do that, or else you'll bring bad luck on both of us.' So one Sunday the white bear came and said they could now set off to see her father and mother. Off they went, she sitting on his back; and they went far and long. At last they came to a grand house. Her bothers and sisters were outside running about and playing. Everything was so pretty, it was a joy to see. 'This is where your father and mother live now,' said the white bear. 'Now don't forget what I told you, else you'll make us both unhappy.' No, heaven forbid, she'd not forget. When they reached the house, the white bear turned around and left her. She went in to see her father and mother, and there was such joy, that there was no end to it. None of them could thank her enough for all she had done for them. They now had everything they could wish for, as good as good could be. Then they wanted to know how she was. Well, she said, it was very good to live where she did; she had all she wished. I don't know what else she said, but I don't think she told any of them the whole story. That afternoon, after they had eaten dinner, everything happened as the white bear had said it would. Her mother wanted to talk with her alone in her bedroom; but she remembered what the white bear had said, and wouldn't go with her. 'What we have to talk about we can talk about any time,' she said, and put her mother off. But somehow or other, her mother got to her at last, and she had to tell her the whole story. She told her, how every night, after she had gone to bed, a man came and lay down beside her as soon as she had put out the light, and how she never saw him, because he was always up and away before the morning dawned; and how she was terribly sad, for she wanted so much to see him, and how she was by herself all day long, and how dreary, and lonesome it was. 'Oh dear,' said her mother; 'it may well be a troll you are sleeping with! But now I'll give you some good advice how to see him. I'll give you a candle stub, which you can carry home in your bosom; just light it while he is asleep, but be careful not to drop any tallow on him.' Yes, she took the candle, and hid it in her bosom, and that evening the white bear came and took her away. But when they had gone a piece, the white bear asked if all hadn't happened as he had said. She couldn't deny that it had. 'Take care,' said he, 'if you have listened to your mother's advice, you will bring bad luck on us both, and it will be finished with the two of us.' No, by no means! So when she reached home, and had gone to bed, it was the same as before. A man came and lay down beside her; but in the middle of the night, when she heard that he was fast asleep, she got up and lit the candle. She let the light shine on him, and saw that he was the most handsome prince one ever set eyes on. She fell so deeply in love with him, that she thought she couldn't live if she didn't give him a kiss at once. And so she did, but as she kissed him she let three drops of hot tallow drip onto his shirt, and he woke up. 'What have you done?' he cried; 'now you have made us both unlucky, for had you held out only this one year, I would have been free! I have a stepmother who has bewitched me, so that I am a white bear by day, and a man by night. But now all ties are broken between us. Now I must leave you for her. She lives in a castle east of the sun and west of the moon, and there, too, is a princess, one with a nose three yards long, and now I will have to marry her.' She cried and grieved, but there was no help for it; he had to go. Then she asked if she could go with him. No, she could not. 'Tell me the way, then' she said, 'so I can look for you; surely I may do that.' Yes, she could do that, but there was no way leading to the place. It lay east of the sun and west of the moon, and she'd never find her way there. The next morning, when she woke up, both the prince and the castle were gone, and she was lying on a little green patch, in the midst of the thick, dark forest, and by her side lay the same bundle of rags she had brought with her from her old home. When she had rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and cried until she was tired, she set out on her way, and walked many, many days, until she came to a high cliff. An old woman sat under it, and played with a golden apple which she tossed about. The girl asked her if she knew the way to the prince, who lived with his stepmother in the castle east of the sun and west of the moon, and who was to marry the princess with a nose three yards long. 'How did you come to know about him?' asked the old woman. 'Maybe you are the girl who should have had him?' Yes, she was. 'So, so; it's you, is it?' said the old woman. 'Well, all I know about him is, that he lives in the castle east of the sun and west of the moon, and that you'll get there too late or never; but still you may borrow my horse, and you can ride him to my next neighbor. Maybe she'll be able to tell you; and when you get there just give the horse a switch under the left ear, and beg him to be off home. And you can take this golden apple along with you.' So she got on the horse, and rode a long, long time, until she came to another cliff, under which sat another old woman, with a golden carding comb. The girl asked her if she knew the way to the castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon, and she answered, like the first old woman, that she knew nothing about it, except that it was east of the sun and west of the moon. 'And you'll get there too late or never; but you can borrow my horse to my next neighbor; maybe she'll tell you all about it; and when you get there, just switch the horse under the left ear, and beg him to be off for home.' This old woman gave her the golden carding comb; she might find some use for it, she said. So the girl got up on the horse, and again rode a long, long way. At last she came to another great cliff, under which sat another old woman, spinning with a golden spinning wheel. She asked her, as well, if she knew the way to the prince, and where the castle was that lay east of the sun and west of the moon. But it was the same thing over again. 'Perhaps you are the one who should have had the prince?' said the old woman. Yes, that she was. But she didn't know the way any better than the other two. She knew it was east of the sun and west of the moon, but that was all. 'And you'll get there too late or never; but I'll lend you my horse, and then I think you'd best ride to the east wind and ask him; maybe he knows his way around those parts, and can blow you there. When you get to him, just give the horse a switch under the left ear, and he'll trot home by himself.' She too gave her her golden spinning wheel. 'Maybe you'll find a use for it,' said the old woman. She rode many weary days, before she got to the east wind's house, but at last she did reach it, and she asked the east wind if he could tell her the way to the prince who lived east of the sun and west of the moon. Yes, the east wind had often heard tell of it, the prince and the castle, but he didn't know the way there, for he had never blown so far. 'But, if you want, I'll go with you to my brother the west wind. Maybe he knows, for he's much stronger. If you will just get on my back I'll carry you there.' Yes, she got on his back, and off they went in a rush. When they arrived at the west wind's house, the east wind said the girl he had brought was the one who was supposed to have had the prince who lived in the castle east of the sun and west of the moon. She had set out to find him, and he had brought her here, and would be glad to know if the west wind knew how to get to the castle. 'No,' said the west wind, 'I've never blown so far; but if you want, I'll go with you to our brother the south wind, for he's much stronger than either of us, and he has flown far and wide. Maybe he'll tell you. Get on my back, and I'll carry you to him.' Yes, she got on his back, and so they traveled to the south wind, and I think it didn't take long at all. When they got there, the west wind asked him if he could tell her the way to the castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon, for she was the one who was supposed to have had the prince who lived there. 'Is that so?' said the south wind. 'Is she the one? Well, I have visited a lot of places in my time, but I have not yet blown there. If you want, I'll take you to my brother the north wind; he is the oldest and strongest of us all, and if he doesn't know where it is, you'll never find anyone in the world to tell you. Get on my back, and I'll carry you there.' Yes, she got on his back, and away he left his house at a good clip. They were not long underway. When they reached the north wind's house he was so wild and cross, that he blew cold gusts at them from a long way off. 'Blast you both, what do you want?' he roared at them from afar, so that it struck them with an icy shiver. 'Well,' said the south wind, 'you don't need to bluster so, for here I am, your brother, the south wind, and here is the girl who was supposed to have had the prince who lives in the castle that lies east of the sun and west of the moon, and now she wants to ask you if you ever were there, and can show her the way, for she wants so much to find him again.' 'Yes, I know where it is,' said the north wind; 'a single time I blew an aspen leaf there, but afterward I was so tired that I couldn't blow a puff for many days. But if you really wish to go there, and aren't afraid to come along with me, I'll take you on my back and see if I can blow you there.' Yes, with all her heart; she wanted to and had to get there if it were at all possible; and she wouldn't be afraid, however madly he went. 'Very well, then,' said the north wind, 'but you must sleep here tonight, for we must have the whole day before us, if we're to get there at all.' Early next morning the north wind woke her, and puffed himself up, and blew himself out, and made himself so stout and big. that he was gruesome to look at. Off they went high up through the air, as if they would not stop until they reached the end of the world. Here on earth there was a terrible storm; acres of forest and many houses were blown down, and when it swept over the sea, ships wrecked by the hundred. They tore on and on -- no one can believe how far they went -- and all the while they still went over the sea, and the north wind got more and more weary, and so out of breath he could barely bring out a puff, and his wings drooped and drooped, until at last he sunk so low that the tops of the waves splashed over his heels. 'Are you afraid?' said the north wind. No, she wasn't. They weren't very far from land by now, and the north wind had enough strength left that he managed to throw her up on the shore under the windows of the castle which lay east of the sun and west of the moon. But then he was so weak and worn out, that he had to stay there and rest many days before he could go home again. The next morning the girl sat down under the castle window, and began to play with the golden apple. The first person she saw was the long-nosed princess who was to have the prince. 'What do you want for your golden apple, you girl?' said the long-nosed one, as she opened the window. 'It's not for sale, for gold or money,' said the girl. 'If it's not for sale for gold or money, what is it that you will sell it for? You may name your own price,' said the princess. 'Well, you can have it, if I may get to the prince, who lives here, and be with him tonight,' said the girl whom the north wind had brought. Yes, that could be done. So the princess took the golden apple; but when the girl came up to the prince's bedroom that night, he was fast asleep. She called him and shook him, and cried and grieved, but she could not wake him up. The next morning. as soon as day broke, the princess with the long nose came and drove her out. That day she sat down under the castle windows and began to card with her golden carding comb, and the same thing happened. The princess asked what she wanted for it. She said it wasn't for sale for gold or money, but if she could have permission to go to the prince and be with him that night, the princess could have it. But when she went to his room she found him fast asleep again, and however much she called, and shook, and cried, and prayed, she couldn't get life into him. As soon as the first gray peep of day came, the princess with the long nose came, and chased her out again. That day the girl sat down outside under the castle window and began to spin with her golden spinning wheel, and the princess with the long nose wanted to have it as well. She opened the window and asked what she wanted for it. The girl said, as she had said twice before, that it wasn't for sale for gold or money, but if she could go to the prince who was there, and be alone with him that night she could have it. Yes, she would be welcome to do that. But now you must know that there were some Christians who had been taken there, and while they were sitting in their room, which was next to the prince's, they had heard how a woman had been in there, crying, praying, and calling to him for two nights in a row, and they told this to the prince. That evening, when the princess came with a sleeping potion, the prince pretended to drink it, but threw it over his shoulder, for he could guess it was a sleeping potion. So, when the girl came in, she found the prince wide awake, and then she told him the whole story of how she had come there. 'Ah,' said the prince, 'you've come in the very nick of time, for tomorrow is to be our wedding day. But now I won't have the long-nose, and you are the only woman in the world who can set me free. I'll say that I want to see what my wife is fit for, and beg her to wash the shirt which has the three spots of tallow on it. She'll agree, for she doesn't know that you are the one who put them there. Only Christians, and not such a pack of trolls, can wash them out again. I'll say that I will marry only the woman who can wash them out, and ask you to try it.' So there was great joy and love between them all the night. But next day, when the wedding was planned, the prince said, 'First of all, I'd like to see what my bride is fit for.' 'Yes!' said the stepmother, with all her heart. 'Well,' said the prince, 'I've got a fine shirt which I'd like for my wedding shirt, but somehow or other it got three spots of tallow on it, which I must have washed out. I have sworn to marry only the woman who is able to do that. If she can't, then she's not worth having.' Well, that was no big thing they said, so they agreed, and the one with the long nose began to wash away as hard as she could, but the more she rubbed and scrubbed, the bigger the spots grew. 'Ah!' said the old troll woman, her mother, 'you can't wash. Let me try.' But she had hardly touched the shirt, before it got far worse than before, and with all her rubbing, and wringing, and scrubbing, the spots grew bigger and blacker, and the shirt got ever darker and uglier. Then all the other trolls began to wash, but the longer it lasted, the blacker and uglier the shirt grew, until at last it was as black all over as if it been up the chimney. 'Ah!' said the prince, 'none of you is worth a straw; you can't wash. Why there, outside, sits a beggar girl, I'll bet she knows how to wash better than the whole lot of you. Come in, girl!' he shouted. She came in. 'Can you wash this shirt clean, girl, you?' he said. 'I don't know,' she said, 'but I think I can.' And almost before she had taken it and dipped it into the water, it was as white as driven snow, and whiter still. 'Yes, you are the girl for me,' said the prince. At that the old troll woman flew into such a rage, she exploded on the spot, and the princess with the long nose after her, and the whole pack of trolls after her -- at least I've never heard a word about them since. As for the prince and princess, they set free all the poor Christians who had been captured and shut up there; and they took with them all the silver and gold, and flew away as far as they could from the castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology. Revised December 25, 2019.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
122F,Mr. Hawk and Brother Rabbit,African-America (Joel Chandler Harris),includes additional episodes. Here I have extracted only the episode of,"Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1883), no. 65, pp. 366-70.","One time Brer Rabbit was going along through the bushes singing to himself, and he saw a shadow pass before him. He looked up, and there was Mr. Hawk sailing around and around. Every time he sailed around, he got a little closer, but Brer Rabbit didn't notice this, and by and by, down he dropped right slam-bang on Brer Rabbit, and there he had him. He held him in a mighty tight grip. He held him so tight that it made Brer Rabbit's breath come short like it does off a long journey. He hollered and he begged, but that didn't do any good. He squalled and he cried, but that didn't do any good. He kicked and he groaned, but that didn't do any good. Then Brer Rabbit lay still and studied about what in the name of goodness he was going to do. By and by he up and allowed, 'I don't know what you want with me, Mr. Hawk. I am scarcely a mouthful for you.' Mr. Hawk, he said, 'I'll do away with you, and then I'll go catch me a couple of jay-birds.' This made Brer Rabbit shake all over, because if there was any kind of creature that he despised on the topside of the earth, it was a jay-bird. Brer Rabbit, he said, 'Do pray, Mr. Hawk, go catch those jay-birds first, because I can't stand them being on top of me. I'll stay right here until you come back,' he said. Mr. Hawk, he said, 'Oh-oh, Brer Rabbit, you've been fooling too many folks. You're not fooling me,' he said. Brer Rabbit, he said, 'If you can't do that, Mr. Hawk, then the best thing for you to do is to wait and let me get tame, because I am so wild now that I won't taste good.' Mr. Hawk, he said, 'Oh-oh!' Brer Rabbit, he said, 'Well then, if that won't do, you had better wait and let me grow big, so I'll be a full meal of vittles.' Mr. Hawk, he said, 'Now you are talking sense!' Brer Rabbit, he said, 'And I'll rush around among the bushes and drive out some partridges for you, and we'll have more fun than what you can shake a stick at.' Mr. Hawk was sort of studying about this, and Brer Rabbit, he begged, and he explained, and the long and short of it was that Brer Rabbit got loose, and he did not get any bigger, and neither did he drive out any partridges for Mr. Hawk. with Uncle Remus (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1883), no. type 122F from his longer story.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
122F,The Dog and the Wolf,Bohemia,"The story's final episode is classified as type 104, The War between the Village Animals and the Forest Animals. Link to a related fable, Old Sultan by the Grimm brothers. Bohemia is mostly in today's Austria and the Czech Republic.","Theodor Vernaleken, 'Der Hund und der Wolf,' Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen: Treu nach mündlicher Überlieferung (Vienna and Leipzig: WilhelmBraumüller, 1896), no. 9, pp. 39-43.","Once upon a time there was a peasant family who had a watchdog named Sultan among their household animals. The dog grew old, and, thinking that he could no longer properly attend to to his duties, the peasant chased him away. Dejected and with his head hanging low, the dog left the village, complaining to himself, 'So this is my reward for loyalty at a difficult job. After using up my youthful and energetic years at work, they chase me away and grant me no rest now that I am old and weak.' He sadly went his way, wandering aimlessly about for many days without finding any tolerable shelter. Emaciated and weak from his long journey, he came to a forest. A wolf came out of the forest, ran up to the poor dog, and cried, 'Stop, old fellow! Beware, you are now in my power.' Hearing the wolf speak in this manner, the frightened old Sultan said, 'Dear friend, just take a good look at me, and your appetite for me will disappear. I would make the worst roast you have ever had, for I am nothing but skin and bones. But I do have some advice for you.' The wolf said, 'I don't need any advice from you, you miserable creature. I know what you will say even before you speak, namely that I should let you live. No, I won't change my mind. The long and the short of it is that I am going to eat you.' To this the dog answered, 'I wouldn't think of asking that of you, for I do not want to live any longer. Bite away as long as you want to. But I still have good advice for you. Wouldn't it be better to fatten me up before eating me? You wouldn't loose anything on the feed, because you would get it all back on me. Then I'd make a decent roast. What do you think, Brother Wolf?' The wolf spoke, 'I'll do it, if the feeding doesn't take too long. Follow me to my hut.' The dog did this, and together they went deeper into the woods. Arriving at the hut, Sultan crept inside, while the wolf went forth to hunt some game for the weak dog. When he returned, he threw his capture to Sultan, who ate it with relish. The next day the wolf came and spoke to the dog, 'Yesterday you ate. Today I will eat.' The dog replied, 'What are you thinking of, dear wolf? I scarcely felt yesterday's food in my stomach.' To be sure, this irritated the wolf, but he had to be happy with going into the woods again to hunt game for the dog. With similar responses, our Sultan put off the wolf as long as he was not strong enough to take on the wolf. The wolf continued to hunt and to bring the dog whatever he captured, eating little or nothing himself so that Sultan would have enough. Thus the dog grew ever stronger, while the opposite was true for the wolf. On the sixth day the wolf came to the dog and spoke, 'I believe that you are ready now.' Sultan answered, 'Yes indeed. To be sure, I feel so well that I will take you on unless you set me free.' The wolf spoke, 'You are joking! Just think, I have been feeding you for six days now, while eating nothing myself. Now am I to go away with nothing? That will never do!' To this Sultan responded, 'You are partially right, but does that give you the right to eat me up?' 'That is the right of the strong over the weak,' answered the wolf. 'Right on!' replied the dog. 'And thus you have pronounced judgment on yourself.' With these words he made a daring leap, and before the wolf knew it, he was lying on the ground, overpowered by Sultan. 'Because you allowed me to live, I will not kill you immediately, but rather submit your life to fate. Choose two companions, and I will do the same. Tomorrow come to this place in the woods with them, and we will settle our dispute.' The two separated to seek out their fellow warriors. Angrily, the wolf went deeper into the woods. The dog hurried to the nearest village. After much pleading, the wolf got an ill-tempered, grumbling bear and a sly fox to be his comrades. Our Sultan ran first to the parsonage, where he talked a large gray cat into going with him. Then he went to the town judge's barnyard where he found a brave rooster as a second fellow warrior. It was just getting light, and the dog was already underway with his two companions. They had what they needed. He might even surprise his enemies while they were still deep in sleep. The wolf was the first one to awaken. He woke his comrades, then said to the bear, 'You can climb trees, can't you? Be so good as to climb that tall fir tree and see if you can't get a glimpse of our enemies.' The bear did this, and from the top of the tree he cried down, 'Flee! Our enemies are very near, and what powerful enemies they are! One of them is riding proudly along, carrying many sharp sables. They glisten strongly in the morning sun. Another one is walking stealthily after him, pulling a long iron rod behind. Woe unto us!' The fox was so frightened at these words, that he decided it would be advisable to make himself scarce. The bear hurriedly climbed down from the tree and crept into some thick brush, so that only the tip of his tail was showing. The enemy was now at hand. The wolf, seeing that his friends had deserted him, tried to get away, but Sultan confronted him. One leap, and the dog had the wolf by the back of his neck, and he finished him off. Meanwhile, the cat noticed the tip of the bear's tail moving in the brush. Hoping to catch a mouse, she snapped at it. Terrified, the bear jumped from his hiding place and fled in all haste up a tree, where he thought he would be safe from the enemy. But he was wrong, because the rooster was there as well. Seeing the bear in the tree, the rooster jumped from one branch to the next, always going higher and higher. The bear was beside himself. Terrified, he fell from the tree and lay there stone dead. And thus the battle ended. The news of the brave deeds of Sultan and his companions spread far and wide, also to the village where Sultan had formerly served. As a consequence, the peasant family took back their loyal watchdog and cared for him. Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen: Treu nach mündlicher Überlieferung (Vienna and Leipzig: WilhelmBraumüller, 1896), no. 9, pp. 39-43. Animals. Sultan by the Grimm brothers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
122F,The Fisher and the Little Fish,Aesop,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Æsop (London: Macmillan and Company, 1902), no. 53, p. 124. First published 1894.","It happened that a fisher, after fishing all day, caught only a little fish. 'Pray, let me go, master,' said the fish. 'I am much too small for you to eat just now. If you put me back into the river I shall soon grow. Then you can make a fine meal off me.' 'Nay, nay, my little fish,' said the fisher. 'I have you now. I may not catch you hereafter.' A little thing in hand is worth more than a great thing in prospect. Fables of Æsop (London: Macmillan and Company, 1902), no. 53, p. 124. First published 1894.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
122F,The Lambikin,India,"Jacobs' source: F. A. Steel and R. C. Temple, Wide-Awake Stories: A Collection of Tales Told by Little Children Between Sunset and Sunrise in the Panjab and Kashmir (Bombay: Education Society's Press, 1884), pp. 69-72. The tale was originally published in Indian Antiquary, vol. 12. The episode of rolling along inside a drum is very similar to the pig's escape from the wolf by rolling down a hill in a churn in the English tale Three Little Pigs.","Joseph Jacobs, Indian Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1892), no. 3, pp. 17-20.","Once upon a time there was a wee wee lambikin, who frolicked about on his little tottery legs, and enjoyed himself amazingly. Now one day he set off to visit his granny, and was jumping with joy to think of all the good things he should get from her, when who should he meet but a jackal, who looked at the tender young morsel and said, 'Lambikin! Lambikin! I'll eat YOU!' But Lambikin only gave a little frisk and said, To granny's house I go, Where I shall fatter grow, Then you can eat me so. The jackal thought this reasonable, and let Lambikin pass. By and by he met a vulture, and the vulture, looking hungrily at the tender morsel before him, said, 'Lambikin! Lambikin! I'll eat YOU!' But Lambikin only gave a little frisk, and said, Then you can eat me so. The vulture thought this reasonable, and let Lambikin pass. And by and by he met a tiger, and then a wolf, and a dog, and an eagle, and all these, when they saw the tender little morsel, said, 'Lambikin! Lambikin! I'll eat YOU!' But to all of them Lambikin replied, with a little frisk, At last he reached his granny's house, and said, all in a great hurry, 'Granny, dear, I've promised to get very fat. So, as people ought to keep their promises, please put me into the corn bin at once.' So his granny said he was a good boy, and put him into the corn bin, and there the greedy little lambikin stayed for seven days, and ate, and ate, and ate, until he could scarcely waddle, and his granny said he was fat enough for anything, and must go home. But cunning little Lambikin said that would never do, for some animal would be sure to eat him on the way back, he was so plump and tender. 'I'll tell you what you must do,' said Master Lambikin. 'You must make a little drumikin out of the skin of my little brother who died, and then I can sit inside and trundle along nicely, for I'm as tight as a drum myself.' So his granny made a nice little drumikin out of his brother's skin, with the wool inside, and Lambikin curled himself up snug and warm in the middle, and trundled away gaily. Soon he met with the eagle, who called out, Drumikin! Drumikin! Have you seen Lambikin? And Mr. Lambikin, curled up in his soft warm nest, replied, Fallen into the fire, and so will you On little Drumikin. Tum-pa, tum-too! 'How very annoying!' sighed the eagle, thinking regretfully of the tender morsel he had let slip. Meanwhile Lambikin trundled along, laughing to himself, and singing, Tum-pa, tum-too; Tum-pa, tum-too! Every animal and bird he met asked him the same question, And to each of them the little sly-boots replied, On little Drumikin. Tum-pa, tum-too! Tum-pa, tum-too; Tum-pa, tum-too! Then they all sighed to think of the tender little morsel they had let slip. At last the jackal came limping along, for all his sorry looks as sharp as a needle, and he too called out, And Lambikin, curled up in his snug little nest, replied gaily, On little Drumikin! Tum-pa -- But he never got any further, for the jackal recognized his voice at once, and cried, 'Hullo! You've turned yourself inside out, have you? Just you come out of that!' Whereupon he tore open Drumikin and gobbled up",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
122F,"The Sheep, the Lamb, the Wolf, and the Hare",Tibet,"Note by O'Connor: 'This story is a satire on the assumption and arrogance of Tibetan and Chinese officials, and the timidity and submissiveness of the Tibetan peasants. It illustrates how the meanest government clerk, more especially when armed with pen and paper, can strike terror into the heart of the boldest and strongest countryman.' (p. 59) The episode referred to in the above note exists elsewhere as an independent story and is classified as a type 126 folktale.","W. F. O'Connor, Folk Tales from Tibet (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1906), pp. 56-59.","'Good morning, Aunty Sheep,' said the wolf; 'where are you going to?' 'Oh! Uncle Wolf,' replied the trembling sheep, 'we are doing no harm; I am just taking my lamb to graze on the rich grass of the great northern plateau.' ' Well,' said the wolf, ' I am really very sorry for you; but the fact is, I am hungry, and it will be necessary for me to eat you both on the spot.' 'Please, please, Uncle Wolf, don't do that,' replied the sheep. 'Please don't eat us now; but if you will wait till the autumn, when we shall both be very much fatter than we are now, you can eat us with much more benefit to yourself on our return journey.' The wolf thought this was a good idea. 'Very well, Aunty Sheep,' said he, 'that is a bargain. I will spare your lives now, but only on condition that you meet me at this very spot on your return journey from the north in the autumn.' So saying, he galloped off, and the sheep and the lamb continued on their way towards the north, and soon forgot all about their encounter with the wolf. All the summer they grazed about on the succulent grass of the great plateau, and when autumn was approaching both were as fat as fat could be, and the little lamb had grown into a fine young sheep. When the time came for returning to the south, the sheep remembered her bargain with the wolf, and every day as they drew farther and farther south she grew more and more downhearted. One day, as they were approaching the place where they had met the wolf, it chanced that a hare came hopping along the road towards them. The hare stopped to say good morning to the sheep, and noticing that she was looking very sad, he said, 'Good-morning, Sister Sheep, how is it that you, who are so fat and have so fine a lamb, are looking so sad this morning?' 'Oh! Brother Hare,' replied the sheep, 'mine is a very sad story. The fact is that last spring, as I and my lamb were coming up this very road, we met an ugly- looking wolf, who said he was going to eat us; but I begged him to spare our lives, explaining to him that we should both be much larger and fatter in the autumn, and that he would get much better value from us if he waited till then. The wolf agreed to this, and said that we must meet him at the same spot in the autumn. We are now very near the appointed place, and I very much fear that in another day or two we shall both be killed by the wolf.' So saying, the poor sheep broke down altogether and burst into tears. 'Dear me! Dear me!' replied the hare. 'This is indeed a sad story; but cheer up, Sister Sheep, you may leave it to me, and I think I can answer for it that I know how to manage the wolf.' So saying, the hare made the following arrangements. He dressed himself up in his very best clothes, in a new robe of woolen cloth, with a long earring in his left ear, and a fashionable hat on his head, and strapped a small saddle on to the back of the sheep. He then prepared two small bundles, which he slung across the lamb, and tied them on with a rope. When these preparations were complete, he took a large sheet of paper in his hand, and, with a pen thrust behind his ear, he mounted upon the back of the sheep, and the little procession started off down the path. Soon after, they arrived at the place where they were to meet the wolf, and sure enough there was the wolf waiting for them at the appointed spot. As soon as they came within earshot of where the wolf was standing the hare called out in a sharp tone of authority, 'Who are you, and what are you doing there?' 'I am the wolf,' was the reply; ' and I have come here to eat this sheep and its lamb, in accordance with a regular arrangement. Who may you be, pray?' 'I am Lomden, the hare,' that animal replied, 'and I have been deputed to India on a special mission by the Emperor of China. And, by the way, I have a commission to bring ten wolf skins as a present to the King of India. What a fortunate thing it is that I should have met you here! Your skin will do for one, anyway.' So saying, the hare produced his sheet of paper, and, taking his pen in his hand, he wrote down the figure '1' very large. The wolf was so frightened on hearing this that he turned tail and fled away ignominiously; while the sheep and the lamb, after thanking the hare heartily for his kind offices, continued their journey safely to their own home.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1620,Fine Thread,Russia,NA,NA,"The spinner said: 'If this is not fine enough, take this!' and she pointed to an empty space. He said that he did not see any. The spinner said: 'You do not see it, because it is so fine. I do not see it myself.' The fool was glad, and ordered some more thread of this kind, and paid her for what he got.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1620,How Eulenspiegel Painted the Forbears of the Landgrave of Hessen,Germany,NA,NA,"Then inquired the landgrave of Eulenspiegel, what manner of man he was and what he could do. Then answered Eulenspiegel, and said: 'Lord, I know the arts, and that manner of man am I, and your humble servant.' Thereat rejoiced the landgrave greatly, for he thought that Eulenspiegel was an alchymist, and in alchymy had the landgrave much delight. Then spake he unto him, saying: 'Art thou an alchymist?' And Eulenspiegel answered: 'Nay, that am I not, in good sooth, for of dross make not I gold, but rather quite the other thing. Yet am I a painter, the equal unto whom can be nowhere found in any country, for my work is far better than the work of any other painter.' Then said the landgrave: 'Come, let us now look upon some of thy work.' And Eulenspiegel said: 'Yea, my lord.' And he had with him some paintings cunningly devised, the which he had brought out of Flanders. These took he from his wallet, and displayed them before that prince. These pleased the lord much, and he said unto Eulenspiegel: 'Worshipful sir painter, what money will ye have if that ye would paint on the wall of our castle hall the story of the family of the landgraves of Hessen, and how that through them I became friendly unto and with the King of Hungary, and other lords and princes, and how long the land of Hessen hath been established? And that must ye tell me in the wise that will be most costly and precious.' Then answered Eulenspiegel: 'Behold, most gracious prince, if that ye would have it so rarely done, it might truly cost not less than four hundred marks.' Then answered the landgrave, and said unto Eulenspiegel: 'Master, an if you do but make it rarely, the money shall not fail, nor will we forget to reward thee as ye shall deserve.' Then did Eulenspiegel consent to become the painter of the picture; and thereat gave the landgrave unto Eulenspiegel one hundred marks so that he might buy colours therewith. But when that Eulenspiegel came with three servants he had found, to see what the work was which was to be done, he gat him unto the landgrave, and spake unto him, and entreated him, saying: 'Behold, noble prince, I would crave a grace from ye, which I would ask that ye should grant unto me.' Then spake the landgrave: 'Yea, that I will grant thee. Speak on.' And Eulenspiegel answered, and said: 'The grace I crave from thee is, that, while my work is going forward, no one shall enter without that they ask of me whether they may enter therein.' And therewith the landgrave granted Eulenspiegel the grace he desired. Then conferred Eulenspiegel with his men, and said unto them, that they must take an oath unto him not to betray him; and so did they. And he said unto them, that they need not do any kind of labour, but they might play at tables and chess and other merry pastimes. And thereat were the men content; nor was it greatly marvellous that in such wise they should be, for Eulenspiegel did promise to pay them for serving him after this manner. Then it came to pass, after some three or four weeks had gone by, that the landgrave craved much to see in what measure the painting of Eulenspiegel was ready, and whether, of a truth, it did resemble the ensamples which Eulenspiegel had shewn unto him, which were so goodly and fair. Thereat gat he him to Eulenspiegel, and said unto him: 'Alas, most worshipful master, I would fain come into the hall and see in what measure my picture doth grow ready.' Then Eulenspiegel spake unto the landgrave, and answered him, and said: 'Yea, and that shall ye also do. But I must tell unto thee a marvellous secret which doth touch all my painting, in that no one, if he be ignobly born, or not according unto the ordinance of Holy Church, can behold my painting to see it.' The landgrave said thereafter: 'Truly that is a marvellous thing.' Yet, my masters, ye may perceive in that the landgrave was an alchymist, so had he also more belief in such affairs than cometh unto the lot of all men. And then went he with Eulenspiegel into the hall, and there had Eulenspiegel hanged up a white cloth, that he should have painted. And with a white wand did he point to the wall when that he had with his hand put the cloth somewhat aside, and then spake he to the landgrave, and said unto him: 'Most noble landgrave, look upon this painting, so marvellous well done and with fair colours, and behold here in this corner he that was first lord of Hessen and earl of the land. And here perceive ye one that was an earl of Rome there unto, and he had a princess and a wife, who was duchess of Bavaria and a daughter of the mild and good Justinian, who afterwards became emperor. And look ye, noble lord; of them was born Adolphus. And of Adolphus came William the Swart; and this William had a son Ludwig, who was named the Pious; and so forward until that we come down unto your lordship's grace. And I know well that there is no person living that can reprove my work, so curiously have I made it, and with such fair and goodly colours.' Yet saw the lord nought before his face but the white wall, and he thought unto himself: 'Though I see no thing but the wall, yet will I say nought unto the master, else will he know full well that L am not nobly born, but basely and vilely.' Therefore said the landgrave unto Eulenspiegel: 'Learned and cunning master painter, your work pleaseth me marvellously well, yet is my understanding very small therein.' Therefore departed he out of the hall. And when that he did come unto the princess his wife, she spake unto him, and asked him, saying: 'How goeth it with the master painter? Ye have seen his work and devices, and how are ye pleased therewith? Truly have I but small belief in him; for he seemeth unto me a rare and most cunning knave and beguiler.' And the landgrave answered her: 'I have shrewd trust in him; and therein is displayed great cunning and mastery; I like it well. Would it please thee also to look thereon?' And she said: 'Yea, that it would.' And the landgrave said: 'Then, with the master's consent, shall ye do it.' Then sent she for Eulenspiegel, and said unto him, that she did desire to behold his painting. And that did Eulenspiegel grant unto her; but he told her likewise the marvellous secret which did hang upon his painting. And they entered in, and with the princess came eight maidens of her women and her woman-fool, which did everywhere be in her company. And Eulenspiegel put back the cloth with his hand, and with his wand told them the same story which he had told unto the landgrave. Yet perceived they nothing; but being ashamed, spake not any word, neither praising nor blaming the picture. But then did the woman-fool open her mouth, and spake, and said unto Eulenspiegel: 'Worshipful master, an if it be that I am basely born, yet see I no thing of thy device upon the wall.' And Eulenspiegel thought: 'Now goeth the matter not so rarely on as before; for if the fools speak truth, then truly must I depart hence,' and laughed thereat within himself. Thereafter departed the princess, and went unto her lord and husband, and he spake unto her, and asked her how that the work liked [pleased] her. And she answered and said: 'Most gracious lord, it liketh me as well as it did you, and truly is most rare. But my woman-fool it liketh not; and she saith that she cannot see any painting there at all. And she and my maidens think that there lieth hid some knavish practice therein.' Thereat began the landgrave to take counsel within himself, if it might be that he was beguiled; but he sent word unto Eulenspiegel that he should make ready his work, for that all his court was coming to behold the picture, and that if any among them fortuned to be base-born, then should their lands be escheated unto the landgrave. Thereat gat him Eulenspiegel unto his fellows and discharged them, and gave them money, and they departed. And then went he unto the treasurer, and of him gat he other hundred marks; and then went he forth from the castle, and so departed on his way. And it came to pass that on the morrow the landgrave demanded where that his painter might be -- but he had departed. Thereat went he with all his lords into the hall where that the master had exercised his cunning device, but there saw they no painting; so they spake no words, but kept their mouths shut. Thereat said the landgrave, for he beheld the sign which Eulenspiegel did always write where that he had worked any knavery, which was that he wrote up the device of an owl [Eule] and a glass [Spiegel]: 'Now do we know that we are be guiled; and with Eulenspiegel have we but little for to be moved, but rather for the two hundred marks, but the loss thereof can we likewise bear. But a great knave is he, and must henceforth remain far from our lands.' Thus did our noble Master Eulenspiegel everywhere teach wisdom unto the lieges; but from Marburg had he gat him forth, nor would he again have to do with the painter's mastery.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1620,The Emperor's New Clothes,Denmark,NA,NA,"Many years ago there lived an emperor who loved beautiful new clothes so much that he spent all his money on being finely dressed. His only interest was in going to the theater or in riding about in his carriage where he could show off his new clothes. He had a different costume for every hour of the day. Indeed, where it was said of other kings that they were at court, it could only be said of him that he was in his dressing room! One day two swindlers came to the emperor's city. They said that they were weavers, claiming that they knew how to make the finest cloth imaginable. Not only were the colors and the patterns extraordinarily beautiful, but in addition, this material had the amazing property that it was to be invisible to anyone who was incompetent or stupid. 'It would be wonderful to have clothes made from that cloth,' thought the emperor. 'Then I would know which of my men are unfit for their positions, and I'd also be able to tell clever people from stupid ones.' So he immediately gave the two swindlers a great sum of money to weave their cloth for him. They set up their looms and pretended to go to work, although there was nothing at all on the looms. They asked for the finest silk and the purest gold, all of which they hid away, continuing to work on the empty looms, often late into the night. 'I would really like to know how they are coming with the cloth!' thought the emperor, but he was a bit uneasy when he recalled that anyone who was unfit for his position or stupid would not be able to see the material. Of course, he himself had nothing to fear, but still he decided to send someone else to see how the work was progressing. 'I'll send my honest old minister to the weavers,' thought the emperor. He's the best one to see how the material is coming. He is very sensible, and no one is more worthy of his position than he. So the good old minister went into the hall where the two swindlers sat working at their empty looms. 'Goodness!' thought the old minister, opening his eyes wide. 'I cannot see a thing!' But he did not say so. The two swindlers invited him to step closer, asking him if it wasn't a beautiful design and if the colors weren't magnificent. They pointed to the empty loom, and the poor old minister opened his eyes wider and wider. He still could see nothing, for nothing was there. 'Gracious' he thought. 'Is it possible that I am stupid? I have never thought so. Am I unfit for my position? No one must know this. No, it will never do for me to say that I was unable to see the material.' 'You aren't saying anything!' said one of the weavers. 'Oh, it is magnificent! The very best!' said the old minister, peering through his glasses. 'This pattern and these colors! Yes, I'll tell the emperor that I am very satisfied with it!' 'That makes us happy!' said the two weavers, and they called the colors and the unusual pattern by name. The old minister listened closely so that he would be able say the same things when he reported back to the emperor, and that is exactly what he did. The swindlers now asked for more money, more silk, and more gold, all of which they hid away. Then they continued to weave away as before on the empty looms. The emperor sent other officials as well to observe the weavers' progress. They too were startled when they saw nothing, and they too reported back to him how wonderful the material was, advising him to have it made into clothes that he could wear in a grand procession. The entire city was alive in praise of the cloth. 'Magnifique! Nysseligt! Excellent!' they said, in all languages. The emperor awarded the swindlers with medals of honor, bestowing on each of them the title Lord Weaver. The swindlers stayed up the entire night before the procession was to take place, burning more than sixteen candles. Everyone could see that they were in a great rush to finish the emperor's new clothes. They pretended to take the material from the looms. They cut in the air with large scissors. They sewed with needles but without any thread. Finally they announced, 'Behold! The clothes are finished!' The emperor came to them with his most distinguished cavaliers. The two swindlers raised their arms as though they were holding something and said, 'Just look at these trousers! Here is the jacket! This is the cloak!' and so forth. 'They are as light as spider webs! You might think that you didn't have a thing on, but that is the good thing about them.' 'Yes,' said the cavaliers, but they couldn't see a thing, for nothing was there. 'Would his imperial majesty, if it please his grace, kindly remove his clothes.' said the swindlers. 'Then we will fit you with the new ones, here in front of the large mirror.' The emperor took off all his clothes, and the swindlers pretended to dress him, piece by piece, with the new ones that were to be fitted. They took hold of his waist and pretended to tie something about him. It was the train. Then the emperor turned and looked into the mirror. 'Goodness, they suit you well! What a wonderful fit!' they all said. 'What a pattern! What colors! Such luxurious clothes!' 'The canopy to be carried above your majesty awaits outside,' said the grandmaster of ceremonies. 'Yes, I am ready!' said the emperor. 'Don't they fit well?' He turned once again toward the mirror, because it had to appear as though he were admiring himself in all his glory. The chamberlains who were to carry the train held their hands just above the floor as if they were picking up the train. As they walked they pretended to hold the train high, for they could not let anyone notice that they could see nothing. The emperor walked beneath the beautiful canopy in the procession, and all the people in the street and in their windows said, 'Goodness, the emperor's new clothes are incomparable! What a beautiful train on his jacket. What a perfect fit!' No one wanted it to be noticed that he could see nothing, for then it would be said that he was unfit for his position or that he was stupid. None of the emperor's clothes had ever before received such praise. 'But he doesn't have anything on!' said a small child. 'Good Lord, let us hear the voice of an innocent child!' said the father, and whispered to another what the child had said. 'A small child said that he doesn't have anything on!' Finally everyone was saying, 'He doesn't have anything on!' The emperor shuddered, for he knew that they were right, but he thought, 'The procession must go on!' He carried himself even more proudly, and the chamberlains walked along behind carrying the train that wasn't there.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1620,The Invisible Cloth,Spain,NA,NA,"Now the king was much pleased at this, thinking that by this means he would be able to distinguish the men in his kingdom who were legitimate sons of their supposed fathers from those who were not, and so be enabled to increase his treasures, for among the Moors only legitimate children inherit their father's property; and for this end he ordered a palace to be appropriated to the manufacture of this cloth. And these men, in order to convince him that they had no intention of deceiving him, agreed to be shut up in this palace until the cloth was manufactured, which satisfied the king. When they were supplied with a large quantity of gold, silver, silk, and many other things, they entered the palace, and, putting their looms in order, gave it to be understood that they were working all day at the cloth. After some days, one of them came to the king and told him the cloth was commenced, that it was the most curious thing in the world, describing the design and construction; he then prayed the king to favor them with a visit, but begged he would come alone. The king was much pleased, but wishing to have the opinion of some one first, sent the lord chamberlain to see it, in order to know if they were deceiving him. When the lord chamberlain saw the workmen, and heard all they had to say, he dared not admit he could not see the cloth, and when he returned to the king he stated that he had seen it; the king sent yet another, who gave the same report. When they whom he had sent declared that they had seen the cloth he determined to go himself. On entering the palace and seeing the men at work, who began to describe the texture and relate the origin of the invention as also the design and color, in which they all appeared to agree, although in reality they were not working; when the king saw how they appeared to work, and heard the character of the cloth so minutely described, and yet could not see it, although those he had sent had seen it, he began to feel very uneasy, fearing he might not be the son of the king, who was supposed to be his father, and that if he acknowledged he could not see the cloth he might lose his kingdom; under this impression he commenced praising the fabric, describing its peculiarities after the manner of the workmen. On the return to his palace he related to his people how good and marvelous was the cloth, yet at the same time suspected something wrong. At the end of two or three days the king requested his Alguacil (or officer of justice) to go and see the cloth. When the Alguacil entered and saw the workmen, who, as before, described the figures and pattern of the cloth, knowing that the king had been to see it, and yet could not see it himself, he thought he certainly could not be the legitimate son of his father, and therefore could not see it. He, however, feared if he was to declare that he could not see it he would lose his honorable position; to avoid this mischance he commenced praising the cloth even more vehemently than the others. When the Alguacil returned to the king and told him that he had seen the cloth, and that it was the most extraordinary production in the world, the king was much disconcerted; for he thought that if the Alguacil had seen the cloth, which he was unable to see, there could no longer be a doubt that he was not the legitimate son of the king, as was generally supposed, he therefore did not hesitate to praise the excellency of the cloth and the skill of the workmen who were able to make it. On another day he sent one of his councillors, and it happened to him as to the king and the others of whom I have spoken; and in this manner and for this reason they deceived the king and many others, for no one dared to say he could not see the cloth. Things went on thus until there came a great feast, when all requested the king to be dressed in some of the cloth; so the workmen, being ordered, brought some rolled up in a very fine linen and inquired of the king how much of it he wished them to cut off; so the king gave orders how much and how to make it up. Now when the clothes were made and the feast day had arrived the weavers brought them to the king, informing his majesty that his dress was made of the cloth as he had directed, the king all this time not daring to say he could not see it. When the king had professed to dress himself in this suit he mounted on horseback and rode into the city; but fortunately for him it was summertime. The people seeing his majesty come in this manner were much surprised; but knowing that those who could not see this cloth would be considered illegitimate sons of their fathers, kept their surprise to themselves, fearing the dishonor consequent upon such a declaration. Not so, however, with a negro, who happened to notice the king thus equipped; for he, having nothing to lose, came to him and said, 'Sire, to me it matters not whose son I am, therefore I tell you that you are riding without any clothes.' On this the king commenced beating him, saying that he was not the legitimate son of his supposed father, and therefore it was that he could not see the cloth. But no sooner had the negro said this, than others were convinced of its truth, and said the same; until, at last, the king and all with him lost their fear of declaring the truth, and saw through the trick of which these impostors had made them the victims. When the weavers were sought for they were found to have fled, taking with them all they had received from the king by their imposition.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1620,The Invisible Silk Robe,Sri Lanka,NA,NA,"A Brahman wrote seven stanzas in praise of his king's copper-colored silk robes. Seven men heard these stanzas and resolved to trick a foolish king from another city. Traveling to that city, the seven men said to the king, 'Maharaja, what sort of robe is your majesty wearing? We have woven a copper-colored silk robe for the king of our city. It is like the thin silk robes from the divine world. In comparison to our king, you look like one of his servants.' Thus spoke the seven men. These words brought shame to the king. Thus filled with shame, he thought to himself, 'I too am a king. Can I not have such robes woven for me as well?' Then he asked, 'What would you require to weave such silk robes?' The seven men replied, 'You must obtain good silk thread and give it to us. Then construct for us a place in your festival garden and provide us with food and drink.' Then they added, 'The silk cloth that we weave is not visible to a low-born person; only a well-born person can see it.' So the king procured silk thread for the men. The men took it to the festival garden and put it away. People came to the festival garden to look at the copper-colored silk robe. The seven men were there at work. The people could see their motions of weaving, cutting, and stitching, but the silk robe itself was not visible. Hence each man thought to himself, 'I must be low-born, for I cannot see this copper-colored silk robe.' And what if these were their thoughts! Each person kept them to himself, and no one uttered them aloud. The king sent a messenger to see if the robe was finished. He saw the seven men's motions of weaving and stitching, but the robe itself was not visible. 'If I report that I did not see the robe, they will say that I am the son of a courtesan,' he thought. To hide his shame, the messenger returned to the royal house and said, 'The men are weaving a priceless robe, but the work is not yet finished. Once finished, they will dress your honor in the robe.' Because of the messenger's statement, many people went to look at the robe, but in spite of the workers' motions, the robe was not visible to anyone. Fearing that others would call them illegitimate, they all said, 'We see it. It is indeed a very costly robe.' And they went away. After seven days the king himself went to look at the silk robe. He looked, but it was not visible to him either. He uttered not a word that he could not see it. Afterward the seven men came to the king and said, 'We have woven for you the copper-colored silk robe. It is finished.' Then they added, 'Get out all the clothes that you have inherited from seven generations of ancestors. After we have dressed you in the new robe you must give us all those other clothes.' Thus the king took out all the vestments from his ancestors and gave them and all his other clothes to the seven men. After receiving all the clothes, the seven men surrounded the king and told him that they were putting on him the copper-colored silk clothing. They stroked his head, saying that they were putting on the crown. They stroked his arms, saying that they were putting on the jacket. In the same manner they stroked all parts of his body, saying that they were dressing him. Then they brought the king into the middle of a great procession and announced to the citizens, 'Neither his majesty our king, nor any other person within this procession has ever worn or even seen such clothing as this. In celebration of the king's new robe, let him sit atop the festival elephant and be carried throughout the entire city and then back to the royal house!' Having said this, they brought forth the elephant, seated the naked king upon it, and started him on his procession throughout the city. But the seven men took goods from his house and went away. And the foolish king remained without clothes.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1620,The King's New Turban,Turkey,NA,NA,"Of old time there was a great king. One day a man came before him and said, 'My king, I shall weave a turban such that one born in wedlock will see it, while the bastard will see it not.' The king marveled and ordered that that weaver should weave that turban; and the weaver received an allowance from the king and tarried a long while. One day he folded up this side and that side of a paper and brought it and laid it before the king and said, 'Oh king, I have woven that turban.' So the king opened the paper and saw that there was nothing; and all the viziers and nobles who stood there looked on the paper and saw nothing. Then the king said in his heart, 'Do you see? I am then a bastard'; and he was sad. And he thought, 'Now, the remedy is this, that I say it is a goodly turban and admire it, else will I be put to shame before the folk.' And he said, 'Blessed by God! Oh master, it is a goodly turban, I like it much.' Then that weaver youth said, 'Oh king, let them bring a cap that I may wind the turban for the king.' They brought a cap, and the weaver youth laid that paper before him and moved his hands as though he wound the turban, and he put it on the king's head. All the nobles who were standing there said, 'Blessed be it! Oh king, how fair, how beautiful a turban!' and they applauded it much. Then the king rose and went with two viziers into a private room and said, 'Oh viziers, I am then a bastard; I see not the turban.' The viziers said, 'Oh king, we too see it not.' At length they knew of a surety that the turban had not existence, and that that weaver had thus played a trick for the sake of money. The History of the Forty Vezirs is the translation of a manuscript prepared apparently in the early seventeenth century, but based on much older stories, similar in style and function to those found in the 1001 Nights.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1620,The King and the Clever Girl,India,NA,NA,"There was once a king who, during the day, used to sit on his throne and dispense justice, but who at night was accustomed to disguise himself and to wander about the streets of his city looking for adventures. One evening he was passing by a certain garden when he observed four young girls sitting under a tree, and conversing together in earnest tones. Curious to overhear the subject of their discourse, he stopped to listen. One of the girls said, 'I think of all tastes the pleasantest in the world is the taste of telling lies.' This remark so interested the king that the next day he summoned the girl to his palace. 'Tell me,' he said, 'what you and your companions talked about under the tree last night.' 'It was not about the king,' answered she. 'Nevertheless,' asked he, 'what was it you said?' 'Those who tell lies, said I, must tell them because they find the practice agreeable,' replied she. 'Whose daughter are you?' inquired the king. 'I am the daughter of a farmer,' answered the girl. 'And what made you think there was pleasure in telling lies?' asked the king. The girl answered saucily, 'Oh, you yourself will tell lies someday!' 'How?' said the king. 'What can you mean?' The girl answered, 'If you will give me two lacs of rupees, and six months to consider, I will promise to prove my words.' So the king gave the girl the sum of money she asked for, and agreed to her conditions. After six months he called her to his presence again, and reminded her of her promise. Now, in the interval the girl had built a fine palace far away in the forest, upon which she had expended the wealth which the king had given to her. It was beautifully adorned with carvings and paintings, and furnished with silk and satin. So she now said to the king, 'Come with me, and you shall see God.' Taking with him two of his ministers, the king went out, and by the evening they all arrived at the palace. 'This palace is the abode of God,' said the girl. 'But he will reveal himself only to one person at a time, and he will not reveal himself even to him unless he was born in lawful wedlock. Therefore, while the rest remain without, let each of you enter in order.' 'Be it so,' said the king. 'But let my ministers precede me. I shall go in last.' So the first minister passed through the door and at once found himself in a noble room, and as he looked around he said to himself, 'Who knows whether I shall be permitted to see God or not? I may be a bastard. And yet this place, so spacious and so beautiful, is a fitting dwelling place even for the deity.' With all his looking and straining, however, he quite failed to see God anywhere. Then said he to himself, 'If now I go out and declare that I have not seen God, the king and the other minister will throw it in my teeth that I am base-born. I have only one course open, therefore, which is to say that I have seen him.' So he went out, and when the king asked, 'Have you seen God?' he answered at once, 'Of course I have seen God.' 'But have you really seen him?' continued the king. 'Really and truly,' answered the minister. 'And what did he say to you?' inquired the king further. 'God commanded me not to divulge his words,' readily answered the minister. Then said the king to the other minister, 'Now you go in.' The second minister lost no time in obeying his master's order, thinking in his heart as he crossed the threshold, 'I wonder if I am base-born?' Finding himself in the midst of the magnificent chamber, he gazed about him on all sides, but failed to see God. Then said he to himself, 'It is very possible I am base-born, for no God can I see. But it would be a lasting disgrace that I should admit it. I had better make out that I also have seen God.' Accordingly, he returned to the king, who said to him, 'Well, have you seen God?' when the minister asserted that he had not only seen him, but that he had spoken with him too. It was now the turn of the king, and he entered the room confident that he would be similarly favored. But he gazed around in dismay, perceiving no sign of anything which could even represent the Almighty. Then began he to think to himself, 'This God, wherever he is, has been seen by both my ministers, and it cannot be denied, therefore, that their birthright is clear. Is it possible that I, the king, am a bastard, seeing that no God appears to me? The very thought is confusion, and necessity will compel me to assert that I have seen him too.' Having formed this resolution, the king stepped out and joined the rest of his party. 'And now, O king,' asked the cunning girl, 'have you also seen God?' 'Yes,' answered he with assurance, 'I have seen God.' 'Really?' asked she again. 'Certainly,' asserted the king. Three times the girl asked the same question, and three times the king unblushingly lied. Then said the girl, 'O king, have you never a conscience? How could you possibly see God, seeing that God is a spirit?' Hearing this reproof, the king recalled to mind the saying of the girl that one day he would lie too, and, with a laugh, he confessed that he had not seen God at all. The two ministers, beginning to feel alarmed, confessed the truth as well. Then said the girl, 'O king, we poor people may tell lies occasionally to save our lives, but what had you to fear? Telling lies, therefore, for many has its own attractions, and to them at least the taste of lying is sweet.' Far from being offended at the stratagem which the girl had practiced on him, the king was so struck with her ingenuity and assurance that he married her forthwith, and in a short time she became his confidential adviser in all his affairs, public as well as private. Thus this simple girl came to great honor and renown, and so much did she grow in wisdom that her fame spread through many lands.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1620,The Miller with the Golden Thumb,England,NA,NA,"A merchant that thought to deride a miller sitting among company said to him, 'Sir, I have heard that every honest miller that tells the truth has a golden thumb.' The miller answered and said it was true. Then the merchant said, 'I pray, let me see your thumb.' And when the miller showed his thumb, the merchant said, 'I cannot perceive that your thumb is gold. It is the same as other men's thumbs.' The miller answered, and said, 'Sir, the truth is that my thumb is gold, but you have no power to see it, for it has the property that he who is a cuckold shall never have power to see it.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,A Fairy Tale in the Ancient English Style,Thomas Parnell,"Thomas Parnell, an Irish poet and clergyman, was born in 1679 and died in 1718. This poem was first published by Alexander Pope in 1722. Poems on Several Occasions, written by Dr. Thomas Parnell, late Arch-Deacon of Clogher, and published by Mr. [Alexander Pope] (London: Bernard Lintot, 1726), pp. 32-45. The Court of Queen Mab: Containing a Select Collection of Only the Best, Most Instructive, and Entertaining Tales of the Fairies (London: M. Cooper, 1752), pp. 359-65.","University of Vermont, Spenser and the Tradition: English Poetry 1579-1830, Thomas Parnell, 'A Fairy Tale in the Ancient English Style.' Sources printed in the eighteenth century: Poems on Several Occasions, written by Dr. Thomas Parnell, late Arch-Deacon of Clogher, and published by Mr. [Alexander Pope] (London: Bernard Lintot, 1726), pp. 32-45. The Court of Queen Mab: Containing a Select Collection of Only the Best, Most Instructive, and Entertaining Tales of the Fairies (London: M. Cooper, 1752), pp. 359-65.","In Britain's Isle and Arthur's days, When Midnight Faeries daunc'd the Maze, Liv'd Edwin of the Green; Edwin, I wis, a gentle Youth, Endow'd with Courage, Sense and Truth, Tho' badly Shap'd he been. His Mountain Back mote well be said To measure heigth against his Head, And lift it self above: Yet spite of all that Nature did To make his uncouth Form forbid, This Creature dar'd to love. He felt the Charms of Edith's Eyes, Nor wanted Hope to gain the Prize, Cou'd Ladies took within; But one Sir Topaz dress'd with Art, And, if a Shape cou'd win a Heart, He had a Shape to win. Edwin (if right I read my Song) With slighted Passion pac'd along All in the Moony Light: 'Twas near an old enchaunted Court, Where sportive Faeries made Resort To revel out the Night. His Heart was drear, his Hope was cross'd, 'Twas late, 'twas farr, the Path was lost That reach'd the Neighbour-Town; With weary Steps he quits the Shades, Resolv'd the darkling Dome he treads, And drops his Limbs adown. But scant he lays him on the Floor, When hollow Winds remove the Door, A trembling rocks the Ground: And (well I ween to count aright) At once an hundred Tapers light On all the Walls around. Now sounding Tongues assail his Ear, Now sounding Feet approachen near, And now the Sounds encrease: And from the Corner where he lay He sees a Train profusely gay Come pranckling o'er the Place. But (trust me Gentles!) never yet Was dight a Masquing half so neat, Or half so rich before; The Country lent the sweet Perfumes, The Sea the Pearl, the Sky the Plumes, The Town its silken Store. Now whilst he gaz'd, a Gallant drest In flaunting Robes above the rest, With awfull Accent cry'd; What Mortall of a wretched Mind, Whose Sighs infect the balmy Wind, Has here presum'd to hide? At this the Swain whose vent'rous Soul No Fears of Magick Art controul, Advanc'd in open sight; 'Nor have I Cause of Dreed,' he said, 'Who view by no Presumption led Your Revels of the Night.' ''Twas Grief, for Scorn of faithful Love, Which made my Steps unweeting rove Amid the nightly Dew.' 'Tis well, the Gallant crys again, We Faeries never injure Men Who dare to tell us true. Exalt thy Love-dejected Heart, Be mine the Task, or e'er we part, To make thee Grief resign; Now take the Pleasure of thy Chaunce; Whilst I with Mab my part'ner daunce, Be little Mable thine. He spoke, and all a sudden there Light Musick floats in wanton Air; The Monarch leads the Queen: The rest their Faerie Partners found, And Mable trimly tript the Ground With Edwin of the Green. The Dauncing past, the Board was laid, And siker such a Feast was made As Heart and Lip desire; Withouten Hands the Dishes fly, The Glasses with a Wish come nigh, And with a Wish retire. But now to please the Faerie King, Full ev'ry deal they laugh and sing, And antick Feats devise; Some wind and tumble like an Ape, And other-some transmute their Shape In Edwin's wond'ring Eyes. 'Till one at last that Robin hight, (Renown'd for pinching Maids by Night) Has hent him up aloof; And full against the Beam he flung, Where by the Back the Youth he hung To spraul unneath the Roof. From thence, 'Reverse my Charm,' he crys, 'And let it fairely now suffice The Gambol has been shown.' But Oberon answers with a Smile, Content thee Edwin for a while, The Vantage is thine own. Here ended all the Phantome-play; They smelt the fresh Approach of Day, And heard a Cock to crow; The whirling Wind that bore the Crowd Has clap'd the Door, and whistled loud, To warn them all to go. Then screaming all at once they fly, And all at once the Tapers dy; Poor Edwin falls to Floor; Forlorn his State, and dark the Place, Was never Wight in sike a Case Through all the Land before. But soon as Dan Apollo rose, Full Jolly Creature home he goes, He feels his Back the less; His honest Tongue and steady Mind Han rid him of the Lump behind Which made him want Success. With lusty livelyhed he talks, He seems a dauncing as he walks, His Story soon took wind; And beautious Edith sees the Youth, Without a Bunch behind. The Story told, Sir Topaz mov'd, (The Youth of Edith erst approv'd) To see the Revel Scene: At close of Eve he leaves his home, And wends to find the ruin'd Dome All on the gloomy Plain. As there he bides, it so befell, The Wind came rustling down a Dell, A shaking seiz'd the Wall: Up spring the Tapers as before, The Faeries bragly foot the Floor, And Musick fills the Hall. But certes sorely sunk with woe Sir Topaz sees the Elphin show, His Spirits in him dy: When Oberon crys, 'a Man is near, A mortall Passion, cleeped Fear, Hangs flagging in the Sky.' With that Sir Topaz (Hapless Youth!) In Accents fault'ring ay for Ruth Intreats them Pity graunt; For als he been a mister Wight Betray'd by wand'ring in the Night To tread the circled Haunt; 'Ah Losell Vile, at once they roar! And little skill'd of Faerie lore, Thy Cause to come we know: Now has thy Kestrell Courage fell; And Faeries, since a Ly you tell, Are free to work thee Woe.' Then Will, who bears the wispy Fire To trail the Swains among the Mire, The Caitive upward flung; There like a Tortoise in a Shop He dangled from the Chamber-top, Where whilome Edwin hung. The Revel now proceeds apace, Deffly they frisk it o'er the Place, They sit, they drink, and eat; The time with frolick Mirth beguile, And poor Sir Topaz hangs the while 'Till all the Rout retreat. By this the Starrs began to wink, They skriek, they fly, the Tapers sink, And down ydrops the Knight. For never Spell by Faerie laid With strong Enchantment bound a Glade Beyond the length of Night. Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay, 'Till up the Welkin rose the Day, Then deem'd the Dole was o'er: But wot ye well his harder Lot? His seely Back the Bunch has got Which Edwin lost afore. This Tale a Sybil-Nurse ared; She softly strok'd my youngling Head, And when the Tale was done, 'Thus some are born, my Son (she cries) With base Impediments to rise, And some are born with none. 'But Virtue can it self advance To what the Fav'rite Fools of Chance By Fortune seem'd design'd; Virtue can gain the Odds of Fate, And from it self shake off the Weight Upon th' unworthy Mind.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,"Billy Beg, Tom Beg, and the Fairies",Isle of Man,NA,"Sophia Morrison , Manx Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1911), pp. 56-61.","Not far from Dalby, Billy Beg and Tom Beg, two humpback cobblers, lived together on a lonely croft. Billy Beg was sharper and cleverer than Tom Beg, who was always at his command. One day Billy Beg gave Tom a staff, and quoth he, 'Tom Beg, go to the mountain and fetch home the white sheep.' Tom Beg took the staff and went to the mountain, but he could not find the white sheep. At last, when he was far from home, and dusk was coming on, he began to think that he had best go back. The night was fine, and stars and a small crescent moon were in the sky. No sound was to be heard but the curlew's sharp whistle. Tom was hastening home, and had almost reached Glen Rushen, when a grey mist gathered, and he lost his way. But it was not long before the mist cleared, and Tom Beg found himself in a green glen such as he had never seen before, though he thought he knew every glen within five miles of him, for he was born and reared in the neighborhood. He was marveling and wondering where he could be, when he heard a far-away sound drawing nearer to him. 'Aw,' said he to himself, 'there's more than myself afoot on the mountains tonight; I'll have company.' The sound grew louder. First, it was like the humming of bees, then like the rushing of Glen Meay waterfall, and last it was like the marching and the murmur of a crowd. It was the fairy host. Of a sudden the glen was full of fine horses and of little people riding on them, with the lights on their red caps shining like the stars above and making the night as bright as day. There was the blowing of horns, the waving of flags, the playing of music, and the barking of many little dogs. Tom Beg thought that he had never seen anything so splendid as all he saw there. In the midst of the drilling and dancing and singing one of them spied Tom, and then Tom saw coming towards him the grandest little man he had ever set eyes upon, dressed in gold and silver, and silk shining like a raven's wing. 'It is a bad time you have chosen to come this way,' said the little man, who was the king. 'Yes; but it is not here that I'm wishing to be though,' said Tom. Then said the king, 'Are you one of us tonight, Tom?' 'I am surely,' said Tom. 'Then,' said the king, 'it will be your duty to take the password. You must stand at the foot of the glen, and as each regiment goes by, you must take the password: it is 'Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.'' 'I'll do that with a heart and a half,' said Tom. At daybreak the fiddlers took up their fiddles; the Fairy army set itself in order; the fiddlers played before them out of the glen; and sweet that music was. Each regiment gave the password to Tom as it went by, 'Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday'; and last of all came the king, and he, too, gave it, 'Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.' Then he called in Manx to one of his men, 'Take the hump from this fellow's back,' and before the words were out of his mouth the hump was whisked off Tom Beg's back and thrown into the hedge. How proud now was Tom, who so found himself the straightest man in the Isle of Man! He went down the mountain and came home early in the morning with light heart and eager step. Billy Beg wondered greatly when he saw Tom Beg so straight and strong, and when Tom Beg had rested and refreshed himself he told his story how he had met the Fairies who came every night to Glen Rushen to drill. The next night Billy Beg set off along the mountain road and came at last to the green glen. About midnight he heard the trampling of horses, the lashing of whips, the barking of dogs, and a great hullabaloo, and, behold, the Fairies and their king, their dogs and their horses, all at drill in the glen as Tom Beg had said. When they saw the humpback they all stopped, and one came forward and very crossly asked his business. 'I am one of Yourselves for the night, and should be glad to do you some service,' said Billy Beg. So he was set to take the password, 'Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.' And at daybreak the King said, 'It's time for us to be off,' and up came regiment after regiment giving Billy Beg the password, 'Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.' Last of all came the king with his men. and gave the password also, 'Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.' 'AND SUNDAY,' says Billy Beg, thinking himself clever. Then there was a great outcry. 'Get the hump that was taken off that fellow's back last night and put it on this man's back,' said the king, with flashing eyes, pointing to the hump that lay under the hedge. Before the words were well out of his mouth the hump was clapped onto Billy Beg's back. 'Now,' said the King, 'be off, and if ever I find you here again, I will clap another hump on to your front!' And on that they all marched away with one great shout, and left poor Billy Beg standing where they had found him, with a hump growing on each shoulder. And he came home next day dragging one foot after another, with a wizened face and as cross as two sticks, with his two humps on his back, and if they are not off they are there still.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,How an Old Man Lost His Wen,Japan,NA,"F. Hadland Davis, Myths and Legends of Japan (London: George G. Harrap and Company, 1912), pp. 372-74.","One night, while the old man was returning home laden with firewood, he was overtaken by a terrible thunderstorm, and was forced to seek shelter in a hollow tree. When the storm had abated, and just as he was about to proceed on his journey, he was surprised to hear a sound of merriment close at hand. On peeping out from his place of retreat, he was amazed to see a number of demons dancing and singing and drinking. Their dancing was so strange that the old man, forgetting caution, began to laugh, and eventually left the tree in order that he might see the performance better. As he stood watching, he saw that a demon was dancing by himself, and, moreover, that the chief of the company was none too pleased with his very clumsy antics. At length the leader of the demons said: 'Enough! Is there no one who can dance better than this fellow?' When the old man heard these words, it seemed that his youth returned to him again, and having at one time been an expert dancer, he offered to show his skill. So the old man danced before that strange gathering of demons, who congratulated him on his performance, offered him a cup of sak, and begged that he would give them the pleasure of several other dances. The old man was extremely gratified by the way he had been received, and when the chief of the demons asked him to dance before them on the following night, he readily complied. 'That is well,' said the chief, 'but you must leave some pledge behind you. I see that you have a wen on your right cheek, and that will make an excellent pledge. Allow me to take it off for you.' Without inflicting any pain, the chief removed the wen, and having accomplished this extraordinary feat, he and his companions suddenly vanished. The old man, as he walked towards his home, kept on feeling his right cheek with his hand, and could scarcely realize that after many years of disfigurement he had at last the good fortune to lose his troublesome and unsightly wen. At length he entered his humble abode, wife was none the less pleased with what had taken place. A wicked and cantankerous old man lived next door to this good old couple. For many years he had been afflicted with a wen on his left cheek, which had failed to yield to all manner of medical treatment. When he heard of his neighbor's good fortune, he called upon him and listened to the strange adventures with the demons. The good old man told his neighbor where he might find the hollow tree, and advised him to hide in it just before sunset. The wicked old man found the hollow tree and entered it. He had not remained concealed more than a few minutes when he rejoiced to see the demons. Presently one of the company said: 'The old man is a long time coming. I made sure he would keep his promise.' At these words the old man crept out of his hiding-place, flourished his fan, and began to dance; but, unfortunately, he knew nothing about dancing, and his extraordinary antics caused the demons to express considerable dissatisfaction. 'You dance extremely ill,' said one of the company, 'and the sooner you stop the better we shall be pleased; but before you depart we will return the pledge you left with us last night.' Having uttered these words, the demon flung the wen at the right cheek of the old man, where it remained firmly fixed, and could not be removed. So the wicked old man, who had tried to deceive the demons, went away with a wen on either side of his face.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Elves and the Envious Neighbor,Japan,NA,"A. B. Mitford, Tales of Old Japan, vol. 1 (London: Macmillan and Company, 1871), pp. 276-77.","Once upon a time there was a certain man, who, being overtaken by darkness among the mountains, was driven to seek shelter in the trunk of a hollow tree. In the middle of the night, a large company of elves assembled at the place; and the man, peeping out from his hiding place, was frightened out of his wits. After a while, however, the elves began to feast and drink wine, and to amuse themselves by singing and dancing, until at last the man, caught by the infection of the fun, forgot all about his fright, and crept out of his hollow tree to join in the revels. When the day was about to dawn, the elves said to the man, 'You're a very jolly companion, and must come out and have a dance with us again. You must make us a promise, and keep it.' So the elves, thinking to bind the man over to return, took a large wen that grew on his forehead and kept it in pawn; upon this they all left the place, and went home. The man walked off to his own house in high glee at having passed a jovial night, and got rid of his wen into the bargain. So he told the story to all his friends, who congratulated him warmly on being cured of his wen. But there was a neighbor of his who was also troubled with a wen of long standing, and, when he heard of his friend's luck, he was smitten with envy, and went off to hunt for the hollow tree, in which, when he had found it, he passed the night. Elves, mistaking him for their former boon-companion, were delighted to see him, and said, 'You're a good fellow to recollect your promise, and we'll give you back your pledge.' So one of the elves, pulling the pawned wen out of his pocket, stuck it onto the man's forehead, on the top of the other wen which he already had. So the envious neighbor went home weeping, with two wens instead of one. This is a good lesson to people who cannot see the good luck of others, without coveting it for themselves. Macmillan and Company, 1871), pp. 276-77.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Fairies and the Hump-Back,Scotland,"Evans-Wentz's source was a protestant minister whose calling had taken him to the Western Hebrides. The above legend comes from the remote island of Benbecula in the Western Hebrides. Thursday is, of course, the day of Thor, the mortal enemy of Scandinavian underground people, which may be the reason why adding the name 'Thursday' to the fairies' song was such a breach of etiquette.","W. Y. Evans-Wentz, The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries (London: Henry. Frowde, Oxford University Press, 1911), p. 92.","A man who was a hump-back once met the fairies dancing, and danced with their queen; and he sang with them, 'Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday,' so well that they took off his hump, and he returned home a straight-bodied man. Then a tailor went past the same place, and was also admitted by the fairies to their dance. He caught the fairy queen by the waist, and she resented his familiarity. And in singing he added 'Thursday' to their song and spoilt it. To pay the tailor for his rudeness and ill manners, the dancers took up the hump they had just removed from the first man and clapped it on his back, and the conceited fellow went home a hump-back. Notes: (London: Henry. Frowde, Oxford University Press, 1911), p. 92. Evans-Wentz's source was a protestant minister whose calling had taken him to the Western Hebrides. The above legend comes from the remote island of Benbecula in the Western Hebrides. Thursday is, of course, the day of Thor, the mortal enemy of Scandinavian underground people, which may be the reason why adding the name 'Thursday' to the fairies' song was such a breach of etiquette.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Fairies and the Two Hunchbacks: A Story of Picardy,France,NA,"Martha Ward Carey, Fairy Legends of the French Provinces (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1887), pp. 6-7.","One day a little hunchback surprised them at this sport, and without being afraid, he took them by the hand and began to dance with them, repeating also, 'Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday.' He danced so prettily that the fairies were charmed, and to reward him took away his hunch. Perfectly happy, he returned home, constantly singing as he went, 'Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday.' On the road he met another little hunchback whom he knew. The latter was greatly astonished to see his friend relieved of his hunch, and said, 'How did you manage it? Your hunch is gone.' 'It is all very easy,' replied the other. 'You have only to go to a certain wood, when you will find some fairies. You must dance with them and sing, 'Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday,' and they will take away your hunch.' 'I will go, I will go at once,' cried the little hunchback, and started immediately for the wood to which he had been directed, where, sure enough, he found the three fairies. Without hesitating, he took them by the hand and danced with them, repeating, 'Sunday, Monday.' But unhappily for him, he added, 'Tuesday, Wednesday.' The fairies, indignant, added to his hunch that of the first hunchback, so that he was a fright to behold, so frightful that if you had seen him you would have run away from him. And then ? -- And then the cock crew, and it was day. Henri Carnoy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Gifts of the Little People,Germany,"This tale was added to the Grimms' collection in the sixth edition (1850). The Grimms' source: Emil Sommer, 'Der Berggeister Geschenke,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Sachsen und Thüringen (Halle: Eduard Anton, 1846), pp. 82-86. This story is included in the present collection under the title The Gifts of the Mountain Spirits.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die Geschenke des kleinen Volkes,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 182, pp. 384-86.","An old man, somewhat larger than the others, sat in their midst. He wore a brightly colored jacket, and his ice-gray beard hung down over his chest. Filled with amazement, the two wanderers stopped and watched the dance. The old man motioned to them that they too should join in, and the little people voluntarily opened their circle. The goldsmith, who had a hump on his back, and -- like all hunchbacks -- was forward enough, stepped right up. The tailor was at first a little shy and held back, but as soon as he saw what fun it was, he too took heart and joined in. They closed the circle again, and the little people sang and danced wildly forth. However, the old man took a broad knife, that had been hanging from his belt, sharpened it, and as soon as it was sufficiently sharpened, looked at the strangers. They were frightened, but they did not have to worry for long. The old man grabbed the goldsmith and with the greatest speed smoothly shaved off his beard and the hair from his head. Then the same thing happened to the tailor. Their fear disappeared when the old man patted them friendly on their shoulders as if he wanted to say that they had done well by letting it all happen without resisting. With his finger he pointed toward a pile of coal that lay nearby, and indicated to them through gestures that they should fill their pockets with it. They both obeyed, although they did not know of what use the coal would be to them. Then they went on their way to seek out a place to spend the night. They had just arrived in the valley when the bell from a neighboring monastery struck twelve. The singing ceased instantly. Everyone disappeared, and the hill lay in lonely moonlight. The two wanderers found shelter. Lying on beds of straw, they covered themselves with their jackets. They were so tired that they forgot to take the coal out of their pockets first. They were awakened earlier than normal by a heavy weight pressing down on their limbs. They reached into their pockets, and could hardly believe their eyes when they saw that they were not filled with coal, but with pure gold. Further, their hair and their beards had also been fully restored. Now they were rich. However, the goldsmith had twice as much as the tailor, because -- true to his greedy nature -- he had filled his pockets better. However much a greedy person has, he always wants more, so the goldsmith proposed to the tailor that they stay there another day in order to be able to gain even more wealth from the old man on the mountain that evening. The tailor did not want to do this, and said: 'I have enough and am satisfied. I am going to become a master, marry my pleasant object (as he called his sweetheart), and be a happy man.' However, to please the goldsmith, he agreed to stay one more day. That evening the goldsmith hung several bags over his shoulders in order to be able to carry everything, and set off for the hill. As had happened the night before, he found the little people dancing and singing. The old man shaved him smooth once again, and indicated that he should take some coal. Without hesitating he packed away as much as his pockets and bags would hold, and then happily returned home. Covering himself with his jacket he said: 'I can bear it, if the gold presses down on me.' With the sweet premonition that he would awaken tomorrow as a very rich man, he fell asleep. When he opened his eyes, he got up quickly in order to examine his pockets and bags. How astounded he was, that he pulled out nothing but black coal, however often he reached inside. 'Anyway, I still have the gold from the night before,' he thought, and reached for it. Horrified, he saw that it too had turned back into coal. He struck himself on the forehead with his grimy hand, and felt that his entire head was as bald and smooth as his beardless chin. Nor was that the end of his misfortune. Only now did he notice that in addition the hump on his back, a second one, of the same size, had grown onto his chest. Now he recognized the punishment for his greed and began to cry aloud. The good tailor, who had been awakened by all this, consoled the unhappy man as best he could, saying: 'You were my traveling companion, and you can stay with me now and live from my treasure.' He kept his word, but the poor goldsmith had to bear two humps and cover his bald head with a cap as long as he lived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Gifts of the Mountain Spirits,Germany,Sommer's source: 'Oral from Halle.' This tale was rewritten under the title 'The Gifts of the Little People' by the Grimm brothers for inclusion in the sixth edition (1850) of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen (no. 182).,"Emil Sommer, 'Der Berggeister Geschenke,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Sachsen und Thüringen (Halle: Eduard Anton, 1846), vol. 1, pp. 82-86.","The tailor thought about his dear fiancée, whom he had left at home, and sighed because he was so poor that the musicians would not be playing at their wedding dance. As they walked along the music sounded nearer and nearer, and at last on a hill they saw many small figures, little men and little women, holding hands and dancing in a circle around an old man. They were singing (that was the music), and one after the other they bowed before the old man. The old man was somewhat larger than the others, had a long ice-gray beard that hung down low over his chest, had a majestic appearance, and was magnificently dressed. The tailor and the goldsmith stood there amazed and could not see enough. Then the old man motioned to them; the dancers opened their circle; and the goldsmith, who was a small hunchbacked fellow, stepped inside. The frightened tailor stayed where he was, but when he saw how the little men and women welcomed his companion, he took heart and followed him into the circle. With the circle now closed, the little people continued to dance and to sing. The old man took a long, broad knife, whetted it until it glistened brightly, and then shaved off the hair and the beards of the tailor and the goldsmith. They shook with fear that their heads would be next, but the old man patted them friendly on their shoulders, as if to say that it was good that they had not resisted. Afterward he pointed to a pile of coal that lay nearby, indicating to them with gestures that they should fill their pockets with it. The goldsmith, who was greedy by nature, took much more than did the tailor, even though the coal had no value. Then the two of them walked down the hill to seek shelter for the night, looking back repeatedly at the tiny dancers. The music sounded more distant and more softly. The monastery bell in the valley struck twelve, and suddenly the hill was empty. Everything had disappeared. Once at the inn the two wanderers covered themselves with their jackets, and because they were very tired, they forgot to take the coal out of their pockets. They awakened earlier than usual, because their jackets were pushing down on them like lead. They reached into the pockets and could not believe their eyes when they saw that they contained pure gold instead of coal. The goldsmith estimated that his was worth thirty thousand thalers, and the tailor's fifteen thousand. Furthermore, their hair and beards had been restored as well. They praised the old man on the mountain, and the goldsmith said, 'Do you know what? Let's go back this evening and fill our pockets clear full.' But the tailor did not want to do this. 'I have enough,' he said, 'and am satisfied. Now I can become a master tailor and marry my Margaret. We will manage beautifully.' The goldsmith did not want to journey onward, and because they had traveled together for a long time, as a favor the tailor spent the day with him at the inn. As evening approached, the goldsmith hung several bags over his shoulders and went back to the hill. He heard the music, as they had before, and saw the little dancers with the old man in the middle. And the old man again motioned to him, shaved him, indicating that he should take some coal. He gathered up as much as he could carry away, hurried back to the village inn, covered himself with his jacket, and could not fall asleep in anticipation that the pockets and bags, now filled with light coal, would be getting heavier and heavier. But on earth not everything happens the way foolish people think it will. The pockets and bags remained light. As dawn approached he went to the window and looked at each piece of coal. It was ordinary coal, and it made his fingers black. Frightened, he fetched the gold from the previous day, but it no longer glistened. Everything had turned back into coal. Then he awakened the tailor in order to share his sorrow with him. When the tailor saw him he was horrified. Only now did the goldsmith discover his entire misfortune. His hair and his beard had been shaved off completely, and they never grew back. But the worst thing was this: he had had a hump on his back, but now he had one of the same size on his chest, and would be unable to work. He recognized this as punishment for his greed, and began to cry bitterly. However, the tailor comforted him, saying, 'Since we have been good traveling companions for so long, and since we found the treasure together, from now on you can live with me and share my treasure.' The tailor soon became a master and married his Margaret. He had many pious children and always enough work; and he is still taking care of the goldsmith with the two humps and no hair.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Hunchback of Willow Brake,Scotland,NA,"James MacDougall, Folk Tales and Fairy Lore in Gaelic and English, edited by George Calder (Edinburgh: John Grant, 1910), pp. 205-213.","When he reached boyhood, he was uglier and more deformed than he had been even in his childhood. He never went out of doors but a crowd of naughty children followed, laughing at him and mocking him. Their cruel conduct made him so shy and unsociable that he avoided their company, and he passed his time day after day alone in the Willow Brake, which stood at a short distance from his mother's house. His neighbors noticed where he was accustomed to go, and nicknamed him the Hunchback of the Willow Brake. On a certain evening, after suffering much ridicule from the children of the town where he lived, he fled with a sore heart and weeping eyes to the Willow Brake for shelter. He had not gone far into the wood, when he was met by the very prettiest little babe he had ever seen. The babe was a fairy woman, but he could not afterwards give a full description of her appearance, nor had he any recollection of her attire, beyond this, that about her shoulders was a green mantle, which was bound with a golden girdle about her waist, and that on her head was a green cap, with a tuft of silver feathers waving from its crown. 'Where are you going?' said the fairy. 'I am going to pass the evening in the Willow Brake,' replied Hunchback. 'Have you no companion at all with whom you can play?' said she then. 'No; none will keep company with me, since I am not like other children,' said Hunchback. At last she asked his name, and he told her it was Hunchback. 'Hunchback!' she exclaimed. 'It is long since we expected to meet you. I am Play of Sunbeam, and my joy is making the world merry. Come with me, my people are expecting you, and pass the night with us, and in the morning you will have neither disability nor defect.' He went cheerfully with her, until they arrived at the back of the Big Fairy Knoll. 'Shut your eyes, and give me your hand,' said the fairy. He did as she told him, and presently they were in the very grandest mansion he had ever seen. She dragged him up through the midst of the company, singing merrily: 'What does she wish us to do for poor Hunchback?' 'When is Play of Sunbeam otherwise?' said the Queen, 'and according to her request let it be.' The other fairies seized him, and when he thought that they had pulled him to pieces among them they let him go, and he was as straight and active as he behoved to be. Then he heard the sweetest music he had ever listened to, and joy filled his heart, and he began to dance with the little people that were on the floor, and stopped not until he fell, unable to stand with fatigue. He had not lain but a short time on the floor, till sleep crept over him, and he felt the fairies carrying him away through the air, and the soft, sad music receding further and further from him. At length he awoke, and on looking round, he found himself lying in the Willow Brake. He rose, and returned home. He had been away a year and a day; and in that time so great a change had come over him that it was with difficulty that his own mother knew him. She rejoiced at his coming, and after that found him a great help, for now he had a hand for every trade. Among the youngsters who used to mock at him was a boy that bore the nickname of Punchy. Punchy was a little ugly creature, with hands and feet like the paws of a frog, and a big hump between his shoulders. When he saw how Hunchback had returned, as straight as a rush and as gay as a calf-herd, he made friends with him, and rested not until Hunchback had told him everything that had happened, from the evening he went to the Willow Brake, till he came back again. He laid a vow, however, on Punchy, not to tell it to a living being, because he himself was under a promise to the fairies to keep it secret. Punchy promised to do as was requested of him. On that very evening Punchy went to the Willow Brake, expecting to meet one of the fairies who would heal him as Hunchback was healed; but he saw none. Evening after evening he continued going to the same place, until at last he saw a small manikin, sitting at the root of a holly bush, and gazing with a mocking smile on his countenance. 'Are you Play of Sunbeam?' said Punchy. 'I am not, but I am Never-Mind-Who,' replied the manikin. 'What is your business with Play of Sunbeam?' 'O, that she will take this hump off me, as she took the hunch off Hunchback,' said Punchy. 'Will you take me to the place where she dwells?' 'I will do that,' said Never-Mind-Who, 'but you will get leave to come out of it as you like.' 'I do not care how I get out, if I get in, and if this ugly hump is taken off me.' The little manikin gave a loud laugh, and then went away with Punchy to the Big Fairy Knoll, and took him in, as Hunchback was taken. 'Who is this come to us without invitation or tryst?' cried the Queen, looking sternly at Punchy. 'It is a toad named Punchy whom Hunchback has sent on a chance journey, in the hope that his hump will be taken off him,' replied Never-Mind-Who. 'Did Hunchback break his vow and his promise, that never of his own accord would he tell any one how it fared with him here?' said the Queen, turning towards Punchy with wrath in her countenance. 'No,' replied Punchy, 'for he told me nothing until I first prayed and entreated him.' 'You impudent fellow,' said she, 'you will get your deserts,' and immediately she cried to the other fairies: 'Throw the hunch on the hump, and the one load will take them home.' 'The hunch on the hump, the hunch on the hump,' screamed all the fairies; and then they laid hold of Punchy by his hands and his feet, and tossed him up and down, to this side and that, till he lost all consciousness. When he came to himself, he lay in the Willow Brake, the hump twice its former size, and his bones so tired and bruised that he could scarcely move. With a great effort he got to his feet, and then crept home; but to the day of his death he told no one except Hunchback what happened to him in the Big Fairy Knoll.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Legend of Knockgrafton,Ireland,"Jacobs' source: Thomas Crofton Croker, Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland (London: John Murray, 1826, pp. 18-26. Croker provides additional notes to this legend on pp. 26-30. W. B. Yeats included this story in his Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry (London: Walter Scott, 1888), pp. 40-45. In his notes Yeats offers the following explanations and comments: Moat does not mean a place with water, but a tumulus or barrow [i.e., an ancient mound-grave]. The words 'Da Luan Da Mort augus Da Dardeen' are Gaelic for 'Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday too.' 'Da Hena' is Thursday. Mr. Douglas Hyde has heard the story in Connaught, with the song of the fairy as 'Peean Peean daw feean, Peean go leh agus leffin,' which in English means, 'a penny, a penny, twopence, a penny and a half, and a halfpenny.' Moat does not mean a place with water, but a tumulus or barrow [i.e., an ancient mound-grave]. The words 'Da Luan Da Mort augus Da Dardeen' are Gaelic for 'Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday too.' 'Da Hena' is Thursday. Mr. Douglas Hyde has heard the story in Connaught, with the song of the fairy as 'Peean Peean daw feean, Peean go leh agus leffin,' which in English means, 'a penny, a penny, twopence, a penny and a half, and a halfpenny.'","Joseph Jacobs, More Celtic Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 156-63.","The country people were rather shy of meeting him in any lonesome place, for though, poor creature, he was as harmless and as inoffensive as a new-born infant, yet his deformity was so great that he scarcely appeared to be a human creature, and some ill-minded persons had set strange stories about him afloat. He was said to have a great knowledge of herbs and charms; but certain it was that he had a mighty skillful hand in plaiting straw and rushes into hats and baskets, which was the way he made his livelihood. Lusmore, for that was the nickname put upon him by reason of his always wearing a sprig of the fairy cap, or lusmore (the foxglove), in his little straw hat, would ever get a higher penny for his plaited work than any one else, and perhaps that was the reason why some one, out of envy, had circulated the strange stories about him. Be that as it may, it happened that he was returning one evening from the pretty town of Cahir towards Cappagh, and as little Lusmore walked very slowly, on account of the great hump upon his back, it was quite dark when he came to the old moat of Knockgrafton, which stood on the right-hand side of his road. Tired and weary was he, and noways comfortable in his own mind at thinking how much farther he had to travel, and that he should be walking all the night; so he sat down under the moat to rest himself, and began looking mournfully enough upon the moon. Presently there rose a wild strain of unearthly melody upon the ear of little Lusmore; he listened, and he thought that he had never heard such ravishing music before. It was like the sound of many voices, each mingling and blending with the other so strangely that they seemed to be one, though all singing different strains, and the words of the song were these: 'Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort'; when there would be a moment's pause, and then the round of melody went on again. Lusmore listened attentively, scarcely drawing his breath lest he might lose the slightest note. He now plainly perceived that the singing was within the moat; and though at first it had charmed him so much, he began to get tired of hearing the same round sung over and over so often without any change; so availing himself of the pause when the 'Da Luan, Da Mort' had been sung three times, he took up the tune, and raised it with the words 'augus Da Cadine,' and then went on singing with the voices inside of the moat, 'Da Luan, Da Mort,' finishing the melody, when the pause again came, with 'augus Da Cadine.' The fairies within Knockgrafton, for the song was a fairy melody, when they heard this addition to the tune, were so much delighted that, with instant resolve, it was determined to bring the mortal among them, whose musical skill so far exceeded theirs, and little Lusmore was conveyed into their company with the eddying speed of a whirlwind. Glorious to behold was the sight that burst upon him as he came down through the moat, twirling round and round, with the lightness of a straw, to the sweetest music that kept time to his motion. The greatest honor was then paid him, for he was put above all the musicians, and he had servants tending upon him, and everything to his heart's content, and a hearty welcome to all; and, in short, he was made as much of as if he had been the first man in the land. Presently Lusmore saw a great consultation going forward among the fairies, and, notwithstanding all their civility, he felt very much frightened, until one stepping out from the rest came up to him and said: Lusmore! Lusmore! Doubt not, nor deplore, For the hump which you bore On your back is no more; Look down on the floor, And view it, Lusmore! At last he fell into a sound sleep, and when he awoke he found that it was broad daylight, the sun shining brightly, and the birds singing sweetly; and that he was lying just at the foot of the moat of Knockgrafton, with the cows and sheep grazing peacefully round about him. The first thing Lusmore did, after saying his prayers, was to put his hand behind to feel for his hump, but no sign of one was there on his back, and he looked at himself with great pride, for he had now become a well-shaped dapper little fellow, and more than that, found himself in a full suit of new clothes, which he concluded the fairies had made for him. Towards Cappagh he went, stepping out as lightly, and springing up at every step as if he had been all his life a dancing-master. Not a creature who met Lusmore knew him without his hump, and he had a great work to persuade every one that he was the same man -- in truth he was not, so far as outward appearance went. Of course it was not long before the story of Lusmore's hump got about, and a great wonder was made of it. Through the country, for miles round, it was the talk of every one, high and low. One morning, as Lusmore was sitting contented enough, at his cabin door, up came an old woman to him, and asked him if he could direct her to Cappagh. 'I need give you no directions, my good woman,' said Lusmore, 'for this is Cappagh; and whom may you want here?' 'I have come,' said the woman,' out of Decie's country, in the county of Waterford looking after one Lusmore, who, I have heard tell, had his hump taken off by the fairies; for there is a son of a gossip of mine who has got a hump on him that will be his death; and maybe if he could use the same charm as Lusmore, the hump may be taken off him. And now I have told you the reason of my coming so far: 'tis to find out about this charm, if I can.' Lusmore, who was ever a good-natured little fellow, told the woman all the particulars, how he had raised the tune for the fairies at Knockgrafton, how his hump had been removed from his shoulders, and how he had got a new suit of clothes into the bargain. The woman thanked him very much, and then went away quite happy and easy in her own mind. When she came back to her gossip's house, in the county of Waterford, she told her everything that Lusmore had said, and they put the little hump-backed man, who was a peevish and cunning creature from his birth, upon a car, and took him all the way across the country. It was a long journey, but they did not care for that, so the hump was taken from off him; and they brought him, just at nightfall, and left him under the old moat of Knockgrafton. Jack Madden, for that was the humpy man's name, had not been sitting there long when he heard the tune going on within the moat much sweeter than before; for the fairies were singing it the way Lusmore had settled their music for them, and the song was going on; 'Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort, augus Da Cadine,' without ever stopping. Jack Madden, who was in a great hurry to get quit of his hump, never thought of waiting until the fairies had done, or watching for a fit opportunity to raise the tune higher again than Lusmore had; so having heard them sing it over seven times without stopping, out he bawls, never minding the time or the humor of the tune, or how he could bring his words in properly, augus Da Cadine, augus Da Hena, thinking that if one day was good, two were better; and that if Lusmore had one new suit of clothes given him, he should have two. No sooner had the words passed his lips than he was taken up and whisked into the moat with prodigious force; and the fairies came crowding round about him with great anger, screeching, and screaming, and roaring out, 'Who spoiled our tune? who spoiled our tune?' and one stepped up to him, above all the rest and said:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Old Man with the Wen,Japan,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Alan Leslie Whitehorn, Wonder Tales of Old Japan (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1912), pp. 113-119.","He had tried all sorts of remedies and cures, but the wen only grew bigger and bigger. One day the old man was out on the mountain side gathering sticks and pieces of wood when a. heavy storm came on. The sky became dark and gloomy-looking, the lightning ?ashed, the thunder roared, and the raindrops came pattering down one after another. The old man looked about for some means of shelter, and after a little while found a large hollow in the trunk of a very big tree. He was so glad at having found it; so, putting his bundle of sticks under another tree near by, he crept into the hollow. The rain came down in torrents and the peals of thunder were deafening, whilst the vivid ?ashes of lightning were most terrifying. The poor old man was ?lled with fear, and prayed that the storm would soon cease. It was late in the afternooon, however, when the storm went over, and very soon the sky was again blue, and the rays of the setting sun were seen spreading out far and wide in the west. The old man thought he had better return home as quickly as possible, as his good wife would be wondering how he had fared in the storm; so he was just about to creep out of the hollow when he heard the tramp, tramp, tramp of many feet. The sound came nearer and nearer, and the old man, wondering whatever it could be, thrust his head out of the hollow tree. Oh! what a scare he got! Marching towards him in a long line came a great number of dreadful-looking goblins, headed by a small man with a heavy spiked club in his hand. The old man crouched back in the hollow, hardly daring to breathe. Nearer and nearer they came until, having arrived at the hollow tree, they stopped in front of it, and began to make merry. Soon the younger goblins began to dance and sing, while all the older goblins sat laughing and clapping their hands. So far, they had not seen the old man, who lay curled up in the darkest corner of the tree. After a time the old man became a little braver, and said to himself, 'I'll just peep out, and see what they are doing. I suppose it's some kind of a goblins' concert they are having, for it sounds so very, very funny.' Saying this, the old man seemed to entirely forget his fear, and ventured out farther and farther. Presently he saw one of the oldest and ugliest-looking goblins get up and say, 'Listen to me, brother goblins! You have danced very cleverly, and sang very sweetly, but for all that your dances and songs are very, very old. Do any of you know a new dance? If so, let him come forward and perform it.' The old man, on hearing these words, determined to join the company, so, with a loud yell, he jumped out from the hollow tree, and began dancing and clapping his hands. The goblins were much startled at this sudden and unexpected appearance of the old man, and they almost fell over each other in alarm. Still the old man kept on dancing, for he knew that his whole life depended on that single dance. The goblins sat dumbfounded, watching every movement of the old man. 'Excellent!' said one goblin; 'Simply marvellous!' said many others; and one and all of the goblins praised the old man's dancing very highly. At last the old man stopped and apologised for his gross rudeness in interrupting their honourable feast. 'Oh! my dearest man,' replied the leader of the goblins, 'we all feel indeed grateful to you for your very worthy performance -- it was simply wonderful for so old a man. You have indeed honoured us very much by your presence. Please do us the favour of coming again and dancing for us.' The aged dancer was very delighted on hearing these words, and promised to come again. 'When will you come again?' asked one of the goblins. 'Tomorrow?' 'Yes -- very well, I shall come again tomorrow and dance many times for you,' replied the old man. 'But you must give us some pledge that you will indeed come tomorrow,' said the leader of the goblins. 'Look here! give us that wen of yours, for I believe a wen on the side of the face is a sign of good luck, and if we take that you will be certain to come again in order to get it back.' 'Yes! yes!' cried all the goblins, 'let us take his wen!' Now this was just what the old man had long wished for, that some goblin or fairy would take from him that troublesome lump, as it had always been a great nuisance to him, and had also caused him much pain. So, without waiting for the old man to make any reply, they seized the wen from the cheek of the delighted old man, and disappeared from sight. Oh! how glad he now felt, for that horrid lump had been taken from him, so with a light heart he began to set out for home. How glad his poor aged wife was to see him, but how much gladder she was to hear the strange story of how her husband had lost his wen. 'It is quite a blessing,' she said joyfully. 'You have indeed been favoured by the gods, and so we ought to be very thankful.' Now it happened that in the very next house lived another man who also had a wen on his right cheek, so when he heard the old man's story he felt very envious, and longed to get rid of his troublesome wen also. So he asked his kind old neighbour where he could ?nd the goblins, as he intended to set out the very next day. The kind old man told his neighbour the very place and time in which he could ?nd the goblins; so thanking the kind old man, the neighbour set out. On and on he went until he came to the hollow tree in which his neighbour, the kind old man, had taken refuge from the storm the day before. Towards evening the goblins came, and there they found whom they supposed to be the old man already waiting for them. The neighbour had taken care to conceal his wen behind a fan which he carried in his hand until he began to dance. 'Oh, how glad we are to see you!' cried all the goblins. 'Do make haste and begin to dance for us again.' So the neighbour, who was also an old man, began to dance, holding the fan and singing as loudly as he could. Now this old man could not dance half so well as the other old man, and he began to hop and jump all over the place. 'Here, stop that foolish dancing,' cried the goblins; 'dance as you did yesterday! You are dancing very badly today. Do something better or else stop.' But the old man kept on with his clumsy style of dancing, until the goblins got quite angry, and, taking the wen which they took from the other old man the day before, one of the goblins threw it at the old man's left check, where it stuck and began growing at once. Oh! how sorry was this old man then, for, instead of losing the wen on his right cheek, he had gained one on his left. The goblins then quickly disappeared into the woods of the mountain; and the old man was left alone -- a pitiful sight -- with a big wen on each side of his face.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Palace in the Rath,Ireland,NA,NA,"Everyone from Bunclody to Enniscorthy knows the rath {footnote 1} between Tombrick and Munfin. Well, there was a poor, honest, quiet little creature, that lived just at the pass of Glanamoin, between the hill of Coolgarrow and Kilachdiarmid. His back was broken when he was a child, and he earned his bread by making cradles, and bosses, and chairs, and beehives, out of straw and briers. No one in the barony of Bantry of Scarawalsh could equal him at these.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Story of Hok Lee and the Dwarfs,China,NA,"Andrew Lang, The Green Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1892), pp. 229-33.","'What an excellent industrious man is this Hok Lee!' said his neighbors; 'how hard he works: he never leaves his house to amuse himself or to take a holiday as others do!' But Hok Lee was by no means the virtuous person his neighbors thought him. True, he worked hard enough by day, but at night, when all respectable folk were fast asleep, he used to steal out and join a dangerous band of robbers, who broke into rich people's houses and carried off all they could lay hands on. This state of things went on for some time, and, though a thief was caught now and then and punished, no suspicion ever fell on Hok Lee, he was such a very respectable, hardworking man. Hok Lee had already amassed a good store of money as his share of the proceeds of these robberies when it happened one morning on going to market that a neighbor said to him: 'Why, Hok Lee, what is the matter with your face? One side of it is all swelled up.' True enough, Hok Lee's right cheek was twice the size of his left, and it soon began to feel very uncomfortable. 'I will bind up my face,' said Hok Lee; 'doubtless the warmth will cure the swelling.' But no such thing. Next day it was worse, and day by day it grew bigger and bigger till it was nearly as large as his head and became very painful. Hok Lee was at his wits' ends what to do. Not only was his cheek unsightly and painful, but his neighbors began to jeer and make fun of him, which hurt his feelings very much indeed. One day, as luck would have it, a traveling doctor came to the town. He sold not only all kinds of medicine, but also dealt in many strange charms against witches and evil spirits. Hok Lee determined to consult him, and asked him into his house. After the doctor had examined him carefully, he spoke thus: 'This, O Hok Lee, is no ordinary swelled face. I strongly suspect you have been doing some wrong deed which has called down the anger of the spirits on you. None of my drugs will avail to cure you, but, if you are willing to pay me handsomely, I can tell you how you may be cured.' Then Hok Lee and the doctor began to bargain together, and it was a long time before they could come to terms. However, the doctor got the better of it in the end, for he was determined not to part with his secret under a certain price, and Hok Lee had no mind to carry his huge cheek about with him to the end of his days. So he was obliged to part with the greater portion of his ill-gotten gains. When the Doctor had pocketed the money, he told Hok Lee to go on the first night of the full moon to a certain wood and there to watch by a particular tree. After a time he would see the dwarfs and little sprites who live underground come out to dance. When they saw him they would be sure to make him dance too. 'And mind you dance your very best,' added the doctor. 'If you dance well and please them they will grant you a petition and you can then beg to be cured; but if you dance badly they will most likely do you some mischief out of spite.' With that he took leave and departed. Happily the first night of the full moon was near, and at the proper time Hok Lee set out for the wood. With a little trouble he found the tree the doctor had described, and, feeling nervous, he climbed up into it. He had hardly settled himself on a branch when he saw the little dwarfs assembling in the moonlight. They came from all sides, till at length there appeared to be hundreds of them. They seemed in high glee, and danced and skipped and capered about, whilst Hok Lee grew so eager watching them that he crept further and further along his branch till at length it gave a loud crack. All the dwarfs stood still, and Hok Lee felt as if his heart stood still also. Then one of the dwarfs called out, 'Someone is up in that tree. Come down at once, whoever you are, or we must come and fetch you.' In great terror, Hok Lee proceeded to come down; but he was so nervous that he tripped near the ground and came rolling down in the most absurd manner. When he had picked himself up, he came forward with a low bow, and the dwarf who had first spoken and who appeared to be the leader, said, 'Now, then, who art thou, and what brings thee here?' So Hok Lee told him the sad story of his swelled cheek, and how he had been advised to come to the forest and beg the dwarfs to cure him. 'It is well,' replied the dwarf. 'We will see about that. First, however, thou must dance before us. Should thy dancing please us, perhaps we may be able to do something; but shouldst thou dance badly, we shall assuredly punish thee, so now take warning and dance away.' With that, he and all the other dwarfs sat down in a large ring, leaving Hok Lee to dance alone in the middle. He felt half frightened to death, and besides was a good deal shaken by his fall from the tree and did not feel at all inclined to dance. But the dwarfs were not to be trifled with. 'Begin!' cried their leader, and 'Begin!' shouted the rest in chorus. So in despair Hok Lee began. First he hopped on one foot and then on the other, but he was so stiff and so nervous that he made but a poor attempt, and after a time sank down on the ground and vowed he could dance no more. The dwarfs were very angry. They crowded round Hok Lee and abused him. 'Thou to come here to be cured, indeed!' they cried, 'thou hast brought one big cheek with thee, but thou shalt take away two.' And with that they ran off and disappeared, leaving Hok Lee to find his way home as best he might. He hobbled away, weary and depressed, and not a little anxious on account of the dwarfs' threat. Nor were his fears unfounded, for when he rose next morning his left cheek was swelled up as big as his right, and he could hardly see out of his eyes. Hok Lee felt in despair, and his neighbors jeered at him more than ever. The doctor, too, had disappeared, so there was nothing for it but to try the dwarfs once more. He waited a month till the first night of the full moon came round again, and then he trudged back to the forest, and sat down under the tree from which he had fallen. He had not long to wait. Ere long the dwarfs came trooping out till all were assembled. 'I don't feel quite easy,' said one; 'I feel as if some horrid human being were near us.' When Hok Lee heard this he came forward and bent down to the ground before the dwarfs, who came crowding round, and laughed heartily at his comical appearance with his two big cheeks. 'What dost thou want?' they asked; and Hok Lee proceeded to tell them of his fresh misfortunes, and begged so hard to be allowed one more trial at dancing that the dwarfs consented, for there is nothing they love so much as being amused. Now, Hok Lee knew how much depended on his dancing well, so he plucked up a good spirit and began, first quite slowly, and faster by degrees, and he danced so well and gracefully, and made such new and wonderful steps, that the dwarfs were quite delighted with him. They clapped their tiny hands, and shouted, 'Well done, Hok Lee, well done, go on, dance more, for we are pleased.' And Hok Lee danced on and on, till he really could dance no more, and was obliged to stop. Then the leader of the dwarfs said, 'We are well pleased, Hok Lee, and as a recompense for thy dancing thy face shall be cured. Farewell.' With these words he and the other dwarfs vanished, and Hok Lee, putting his hands to his face, found to his great joy that his cheeks were reduced to their natural size. The way home seemed short and easy to him, and he went to bed happy, and resolved never to go out robbing again. Next day the whole town was full of the news of Hok's sudden cure. His neighbors questioned him, but could get nothing from him, except the fact that he had discovered a wonderful cure for all kinds of diseases. After a time a rich neighbor, who had been ill for some years, came, and offered to give Hok Lee a large sum of money if he would tell him how he might get cured. Hok Lee consented on condition that he swore to keep the secret. He did so, and Hok Lee told him of the dwarfs and their dances. The neighbor went off, carefully obeyed Hok Lee's directions, and was duly cured by the dwarfs. Then another and another came to Hok Lee to beg his secret, and from each he extracted a vow of secrecy and a large sum of money. This went on for some years, so that at length Hok Lee became a very wealthy man, and ended his days in peace and prosperity. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Tailor on the Brocken,Germany,"Sommer's source: 'Oral from Halle.' The Brocken, also called Glockersberg (Glocker Mountain), or -- more commonly -- Blocksberg is the highest peak in the Harz Mountains of north-central Germany, and is a legendary gathering place of witches and devils, especially during the night before May Day (Walpurgis Night -- German, Walpurgisnacht). Link to another legend about the witches' sabbath on the Brocken: The Trip to the Brocken. Opens in a new window.","Emil Sommer, 'Der Schneider auf dem Brocken,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Sachsen und Thüringen (Halle: Eduard Anton, 1846), vol. 1, pp. 56-57.","A tailor heard that during the night between the last of April and the first of May witches gather on Glocker Mountain and there perform incredible dances. Being curious, on the preceding day he set forth and climbed Glocker Mountain. He hid himself among the branches of a willow tree and then saw how many hundred witches flew there through the air, had a lovely feast, and then danced joyfully. One of the witches noticed him and shouted to another one, 'See what a large burl that willow branch has. I'm going to drive my ax into it, so I can find it again next year.' And she drove her ax into his back. He only felt a single stab, but from that moment onward his back was very heavy, and when the sun came up he saw with terror from his shadow that he was now a hunchback. Nevertheless, the following year when the first of May was approaching he could not restrain his desire to return to Glocker Mountain, because the dances had pleased him so much. Seated once again in the willow tree, the witch saw him, as before, and said, 'I want to pull my ax out of the willow burl, so I won't lose it.' She reached for his back, and he felt a light stab. From that time onward his hump was gone. When the witch pulled her hand back, she was holding an ax. Märchen und Gebräuche aus Sachsen und Thüringen (Halle: Eduard Anton, 1846), vol. 1, pp. 56-57. more commonly -- Blocksberg is the highest peak in the Harz Mountains of north-central Germany, and is a legendary gathering place of witches and devils, especially during the night before May Day (Walpurgis Night -- German, Walpurgisnacht). Brocken. Opens in a new window.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Two Humpbacks,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 27, pp. 103-104.","'Go,' said the other. 'If you make your fortune, return, and I will go and see if I can make mine.' So the humpback set off on his journey. Now these two humpbacks were from Parma. When the humpback had gone a long way, he came to a square where there was a fair, at which everything was sold. There was a person selling cheese, who cried out: 'Eat the little Parmesan!' The poor humpback thought he meant him, so he ran away and hid himself in a courtyard. When it was one o'clock, he heard a clanking of chains and the words 'Saturday and Sunday' repeated several times. Then he answered: 'And Monday.' 'Oh, heavens!' said they who were singing. 'Who is this who has harmonized with our choir?' They searched and found the poor humpback hidden. 'O gentlemen!' he said, 'I have not come here to do any harm, you know!' 'Well! we have come to reward you; you have harmonized our choir; come with us!' They put him on a table and removed his hump, healed him, and gave him two bags of money. 'Now,' they said, 'you can go.' He thanked them and went away without his hump. He liked it better, you can believe! He returned to his place at Parma, and when the other humpback saw him he exclaimed: 'Does not that look just like my friend? But he had a hump! It is not he! Listen! You are not my friend so and so, are you?' 'Yes, I am,' he replied. 'Listen! Were you not a humpback?' 'Yes. They have removed my hump and given me two bags of money. I will tell you why. I reached,' he continued, 'such and such a place, and I heard them beginning to say, 'Eat the little Parmesan! Eat the little Parmesan!' I was so frightened that I hid myself.' (He mentioned the place -- in a courtyard.) 'At a certain hour, I heard a noise of chains and a chorus singing: 'Saturday and Sunday.' After two or three times, I said: 'And Monday.' They came and found me, saying that I had harmonized their chorus, and they wanted to reward me. They took me, removed my hump, and gave me two bags of money.' 'Oh, heavens!' said the other humpback. 'I want to go there, too!' 'Go, poor fellow, go! Farewell!' The humpback reached the place, and hid himself precisely where his companion had. After a while he heard a noise of chains, and the chorus: 'Saturday and Sunday!' Then another chorus: 'And Monday!' After the humpback had heard them repeat: 'Saturday and Sunday, and Monday!' several times, he added: 'And Tuesday!' 'Where,' they exclaimed, 'is he who has spoiled our chorus? If we find him, we will tear him in pieces.' Just think! they struck and beat this poor humpback until they were tired; then they put him on the same table on which they had placed his companion, and said: 'Take that hump and put it on him in front.' So they took the other's hump and fastened it to his breast, and then drove him away with blows. He went home and found his friend, who cried: 'Mercy! Is not that my friend? But it cannot be, for this one is humpbacked in front. Listen,' he said, 'are you not my friend?' 'The same,' he answered, weeping. 'I did not want to bear my own hump, and now I have to carry mine and yours! and so beaten and reduced, you see!' 'Come,' said his friend, 'come home with me, and we will eat a mouthful together; and don't be disheartened.' And so, every day, he dined with his friend, and afterward they died, I imagine.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
503,The Two Hunchbacked Brothers,Italy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): R. H. Busk, The Folk-Lore of Rome: Collected by Word of Mouth from the People (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1874), pp. 96-98. Source (Internet Archive): R. H. Busk, The Folk-Lore of Rome: Collected by Word of Mouth from the People (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1874), pp. 96-98.","There was once a man who had one son, who married a widow who also had one son, and both were hunchbacks. The wife took very good care of her own son, but the son of her husband she used to put to hard work and gave him scarcely anything to eat. Her son, too, used to imitate, his mother, and sadly ill-treat his stepbrother. After treating him ill for a long time, she at last sent him away from the house altogether. The poor little hunchback wandered away without knowing where to go. On, on, on he went, till at last he came to a lonely hut on a wide moor. At his approach a whole host of little hunchbacks came out and danced round him, chanting plaintively: Sabbato! Domenica! a great number of times. At last our little hunchback felt his courage stirred, and, taking up the note of their chant, chimed in with: Lunedi! Instantly the dancing ceased, all the little hunchback dwarfs became full-grown, well-formed men, and, what was better still, his own hump was gone too, and he felt that he, too, was a well-grown lad. 'Good people,' said our hunchback -- now hunchbacked no more -- ''I thank you much for ridding me of my hump and making me a well-grown lad. Give me now some work to do among you, and let me live with you.' But the chief of the strange people answered him and said: 'This favour we owe to you, not you to us; for it was your chiming in with the right word on the right note which destroyed the spell that held us all. And in testimony of our gratitude we give you further this little wand, and you will not need to work with us. Go back and live at home, and if ever anyone beats you as heretofore, you have only to say to it, 'At 'em, good stick!' and you will see what it will do for you.' Then all disappeared, and the boy went home. 'So you've come back, have you?' said the stepmother. 'What, and without your hump, too! Where have you left that?' Then the good boy told her all that had happened, without hiding anything. 'Do you hear that?' said the stepmother to her own son. 'Now go you and get rid of your hump in the same way.' So the second hunchback went forth, and journeyed on till he came to the lonely hut on the moor. A tribe of hunchbacks came out and danced round him, and sung' to which the bad son of the stepmother added in his rough voice, all out of tune: Martedi! Immediately all the hunchbacks came round him and gave him a drubbing, and the chief of them stuck on him a hump in front as well as behind. Thus they sent him home to his mother. When his mother saw him come home in this plight, she turned upon the stepson and abused him for having misled her son to injure him; and both mother and son set upon him and belaboured him after their wont. But he had only told the truth, without intention to deceive; and the stepmother's son had incurred the anger of the dwarfs by his discordant addition to their chant. So the first hero took out his wand and said, 'At' em, good stick!' and the wand flew out of his hand and administered on mother and son a sounder drubbing than that they had themselves been administering. Ever after that he was able to live at home in peace, for everyone was afraid to injure him because of the power of his stick.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
888,A Story Told by a Hindu,India,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 42, pp. 144-47.","Once upon a time there was a Raja who had two sons, and after their father's death they divided the kingdom between them. The two brothers were inveterate gamblers and spent their time playing cards with each other. For a long time fortune was equal, but one day it turned against the elder brother, and he lost and lost until his money and his jewelry, his horses and his elephants and everything that he had, had been won by his younger brother. Then in desperation he staked his share in the kingdom, and that too he lost. Then the younger brother sent drummers through the city to proclaim that the whole kingdom was his. The shame of this was more than the elder prince could bear, so he resolved to quit the country, and he told his wife of his intention and bade her stay behind. But his faithful wife refused to be parted from him. She vowed that he had married her not for one day nor for two, but for good and all, and that where he went, there she would go, and whatever troubles he met, she would share. So he allowed her to come with him, and the two set off to foreign parts. After some time their path led them through an extensive jungle, and after traveling through it for two days they at last lost their way completely. Their food gave out; they were faint with starvation and torn with briars. The prince urged his wife to return, but she would not hear of it, so they pushed on, supporting life on jungle fruits. Sometimes the prince would go far ahead, for his faithful wife could only travel slowly, and then he would return and wait for her. At last he got tired of leading her on and made up his mind to abandon her. At night they lay down at the foot of a tree, and the prince thought, 'If wild animals would come and eat us, it would be the best that could happen. I cannot bear to see my wife suffer any more. Although her flesh is torn with thorns, she will not leave me. I will leave her here; may wild beasts kill both her and me, but I cannot see her die before my eyes.' So thinking he got up quietly and went off as quickly as he could. When the princess woke and found that she had been abandoned, she began to weep, and wept from dawn to noon without ceasing. At noon a being in the guise of an old woman appeared and asked her why she wept, and comforted her and promised to lead her out of the wood and told her that Chando [a sun god] had had compassion on her and would allow her to find her husband again if they both lived. So saying, the old woman led the princess from the forest and showed her the way to a great city where a Raja lived. The princess went begging her way through the city to the Raja's palace, and there they engaged her as a servant. Now her husband had also escaped from the jungle and sought employment as a laborer, but no one would give him work for more than a day or two, and at last his search for work brought him to the city in which the princess was; and there he was engaged as a groom in the palace stables. The prince had changed his name, and he had no chance of knowing that his wife was in the palace, because she was confined to the women's apartments. So some years passed without their having news of each other. At last one day the princess happened to go onto the roof and looking down at the stables saw and thought she recognized her husband. Then she leaned over and listened till she heard his voice, and at that she was sure that it was he, so she hastened to the Raja and begged to be allowed to meet her husband, and the Raja sent to call the syce [a servant who attends to horses] with the name which the princess had given, but no one came, for the prince would not reveal himself. Then the princess told their story, and how her husband had gambled away his half of the kingdom. The Raja ordered anyone with such a history to come forward, as his wife was in the palace; but the prince did not reveal himself. Then the princess said, 'Let all the syces cook rice and bring me a bit of each man's cooking to taste.' They did so, and when she tasted the rice cooked by her husband, she at once said that it was his. Her husband was unable to deny it and admitted everything. Then they took him away from his work in the stables and let him live with his wife. After a time the Raja wrote to the younger brother asking whether he would restore the half of the kingdom which he had won; and the younger brother answered that he would gladly do so, if his brother would sign an agreement never to gamble anymore. It was with this object in view and to teach him the folly of his ways that he had dispossessed him. The elder brother gladly gave the required promise and returned to his kingdom with his faithful wife, and lived happily ever afterwards. (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 42, pp. 144-47.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
888,Conrad von Tannenberg,Germany,Translated by D. L. Ashliman. Wolf's source: 'Oral.',"Source (books.google.com): J. W. Wolf, 'Conrad von Tannenberg,' Hessische Sagen (Göttingen: Dieterichsche Buchhandlung; Leipzig: Fr. Chr. Wilh. Vogel, 1853), no. 238, pp. 147-149. Source (Internet Archive): J. W. Wolf, 'Conrad von Tannenberg,' Hessische Sagen (Göttingen: Dieterichsche Buchhandlung; Leipzig: Fr. Chr. Wilh. Vogel, 1853), no. 238, pp. 147-149.","Ages ago there lived in Tannenberg Castle on the mountain road a knight whose name was Conrad. He had a wife named Ann-Els who was as beautiful as she was pious. One time she became seriously ill, and he vowed that if she should recover he would make a pilgrimage to the Holy Grave and there battle against the infidels. And lo, Ann-Els recovered soon thereafter, and when her health had fully returned, the knight made himself ready to depart on a pilgrimage. With many tears he took leave of his wife and journeyed to the sea, where together with companions he had met underway he boarded a ship. At sea the ship was attacked by pirates. He and his companions were taken prisoner and sold as slaves to an eminent Turk. Year upon year passed, and his wife received no news from him. Because she was wealthy, she received many marriage proposals from neighboring knights, but she was interested in none of them and rejected them all, which caused a great deal of hate and animosity toward her. Then one day she heard from another pilgrim who was returning home from the promised land that her husband was languishing as a prisoner among the Turks, and she resolved to rescue him, cost it what it may. Dressing herself in men's clothes, she took her harp, which she could play very well, and journeyed across the sea to Turkey. Arriving there safely, she sought and inquired after her husband until finally she discovered where he was. Then one day she approached the Turk who was his master and played such beautiful melodies on her harp, and sang with such charm, that the Turk said she should name her own reward, that he would give her anything she requested. Then she said, 'I ask only for a slave to serve me,' and from among the slaves she selected one -- her dear husband. However, she did not identify herself to him, but kept him away from her. After the sea voyage was successfully completed and they found themselves again on Christian soil, she left a sum of money for him, then secretly slipped away and hurried home as fast as possible. Not long afterward Conrad too arrived at Tannenberg Castle and was joyfully and festively received by his wife. All the knights from the surrounding area came to the castle to wish him well. While they were eating Knight Conrad told them of his adventures, how he had been captured, mistreated, and so miraculously rescued. Then several of the knights whose marriage proposals Ann-Els had rejected whispered into his ear that in the meantime his wife had been traveling about the land dressed in men's clothes and leading an indecent life. Upon hearing this Conrad jumped up angrily, drew his sword, and attempted to kill Ann-Els, but she fled into her room and barred the door so that he could not harm her. Not long afterward she returned to the hall carrying her harp and wearing the clothes in which she had freed Conrad, and she played a melody. Then Knight Conrad jumped up and fell into the singer's arms. She threw off the clothes and stood there as the faithful Ann-Els. It is not necessary to say how happy Conrad was, nor that the gossipers disappeared as soon as they possibly could, not letting themselves be seen again, and that the festival ended even more joyfully than it had begun. (Göttingen: Dieterichsche Buchhandlung; Leipzig: Fr. Chr. Wilh. Vogel, 1853), no. 238, pp. 147-149.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
888,Of Chastity,Gesta Romanorum Application,"The Gesta Romanorum (Deeds of the Romans) is a collection of tales compiled in Latin about 1300, probably by Christian monks in England, although possibly in France or Germany. Apparently designed as a sourcebook for preachers, the Gesta Romanorum appends a religious 'application' to each tale. Charles Swan's translation of the Gesta Romanorum was first published in 1824.","Source (books.google.com): Gesta Romanorum, translated from the Latin by Charles Swan; revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1905), no. 69, pp. 122-24. Source (Internet Archive): Gesta Romanorum, translated from the Latin by Charles Swan; revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 69, pp. 122-24.","The Emperor Gallus employed a singularly skilful carpenter in the erection of a magnificent palace. At that period, a certain knight lived who had a very beautiful daughter; and who, perceiving the extraordinary sagacity of the artificer, determined to give him the lady in marriage. Calling him, therefore, he said, 'My good friend, ask of me what you will; so that it be possible, I will do it, provided you marry my daughter.' The other assented, and the nuptial rites were celebrated accordingly. Then the mother of the lady said to the carpenter, 'My son, since you have become one of our family, I will bestow upon you a curious shirt. It possesses this singular property, that as long as you and your wife are faithful to each other, it will neither be rent, nor worn, nor stained. But if -- which Heaven forbid! -- either of you prove unfaithful, instantly it will lose its virtue.' The carpenter, very happy in what he heard, took the shirt, and returned great thanks for the gift. A short while afterward, the carpenter being sent for to superintend the building of the emperor's palace, took with him the valuable present which he had received. He continued, absent until the structure was complete; and numbers, observing how much he labored, admired the freshness and spotless purity of his shirt. Even the emperor condescended to notice it, and said to him, 'My master, how is it that in despite of your laborious occupation, and the constant use of your shirt, it still preserves its color and beauty?' 'You must know, my Lord,' said he, 'that as long as my wife and I continue faithful to each other, my shirt retains its original whiteness and beauty; but if either of us forget our matrimonial vows, it will sully like any other cloth.' A soldier, overhearing this, thought within himself, 'If I can I will make you wash your shirt.' Wherefore, without giving any cause of suspicion to the carpenter, he secretly hastened to his house, and solicited his wife to dishonor. She received him with an appearance of pleasure, and seemed to be entirely influenced by the same feelings. 'But,' added she, 'in this place we are exposed to observation; come with me, and I will conduct you into a private chamber.' He followed her, and closing the door, she said, 'Wait here awhile; I will return presently.' Thus she did every day, all the time supplying him only with bread and water. Without regard to his urgency, she compelled him to endure this humiliating treatment; and before long, two other soldiers came to her from the emperor's court, with the same evil views. In like manner, she decoyed them into the chamber, and fed them with bread and water. The sudden disappearance, however, of the three soldiers gave rise to much inquiry; and the carpenter, on the completion of his labors, received the stipulated sum, and returned to his own home. His virtuous wife met him with joy, and looking upon the spotless shirt, exclaimed, 'Blessed be God! Our truth is made apparent -- there is not a single stain upon the shirt.' To which he replied, 'My beloved, during the progress of the building, three soldiers, one after another, came to ask questions about the shirt. I related the fact, and since that time nothing has been heard of them.' The lady smiled, and said, 'The soldiers respecting whom you feel anxious thought me a fit subject for their improper solicitation, and came hither with the vilest intent. I decoyed them into a remote chamber, and have fed them with bread and water.' The carpenter, delighted with this proof of his wife's fidelity, spared their lives, and liberated them; and he and his wife lived happily for the rest of their lives. My beloved, the emperor is God ; the palace is the human heart. The knight who married his daughter to the carpenter is Christ; the carpenter is any good Christian, and the mother is the Church. The shirt is faith; the three soldiers are pride, lusts of the eyes, and lusts of the heart. translated from the Latin by Charles Swan; revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1905), no. 69, pp. 122-24. Sons, 1906), no. 69, pp. 122-24. The Gesta Romanorum (Deeds of the Romans) is a collection of tales compiled in Latin about 1300, probably by Christian monks in England, although possibly in France or Germany. Apparently designed as a 'application' to each tale. published in 1824.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
888,The Lute Player,Russia,"Lang's source: Not stated, but probably Alexander Afanasyev.","Source (books.google.com): Andrew Lang, The Violet Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1901), pp. 70-76. Source (Internet Archive): Andrew Lang, The Violet Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1906), pp. 70-76.","Once upon a time there was a king and queen who lived happily and comfortably together. They were very fond of each other and had nothing to worry them, but at last the king grew restless. He longed to go out into the world, to try his strength in battle against some enemy and to win all kinds of honor and glory. So he called his army together and gave orders to start for a distant country where a heathen king ruled who ill treated or tormented everyone he could lay his hands on. The king then gave his parting orders and wise advice to his ministers, took a tender leave of his wife, and set off with his army across the seas. I cannot say whether the voyage was short or long; but at last he reached the country of the heathen king and marched on, defeating all who came in his way. But this did not last long, for in time he came to a mountain pass, where a large army was waiting for him, who put his soldiers to flight, and took the king himself prisoner. He was carried off to the prison where the heathen king kept his captives, and now our poor friend had a very bad time indeed. All night long the prisoners were chained up, and in the morning they were yoked together like oxen and had to plow the land till it grew dark. This state of things went on for three years before the king found any means of sending news of himself to his dear queen, but at last he contrived to send this letter: 'Sell all our castles and palaces, and put all our treasures in pawn and come and deliver me out of this horrible prison.' The queen received the letter, read it, and wept bitterly as she said to herself, 'How can I deliver my dearest husband? If I go myself and the heathen king sees me he will just take me to be one of his wives. If I were to send one of the ministers! -- but I hardly know if I can depend on them.' She thought, and thought, and at last an idea came into her head. She cut off all her beautiful long brown hair and dressed herself in boy's clothes. Then she took her lute and, without saying anything to anyone, she went forth into the wide world. She traveled through many lands and saw many cities, and went through many hardships before she got to the town where the heathen king lived. When she got there she walked all round the palace and at the back she saw the prison. Then she went into the great court in front of the palace, and taking her lute in her hand, she began to play so beautifully that one felt as though one could never hear enough. After she had played for some time she began to sing, and her voice was sweeter than the lark's: I come from my own country far Into this foreign land, Of all I own I take alone My sweet lute in my hand. Oh! who will thank me for my song. Reward my simple lay? Like lover's sighs it still shall rise To greet thee day by day. I sing of blooming flowers Made sweet by sun and rain; Of all the bliss of love's first kiss, And parting's cruel pain, Of the sad captive's longing Within his prison wall, Of hearts that sigh when none are nigh To answer to their call. My song begs for your pity, And gifts from out your store, And as I play my gentle lay I linger near your door. And if you hear my singing Within your palace, sire, Oh! give, I pray, this happy day To me my heart's desire. No sooner had the heathen king heard this touching song sung by such a lovely voice, than he had the singer brought before him. 'Welcome, O lute player,' said he. 'Where do you come from?' 'My country, sire, is far away across many seas. For years I have been wandering about the world and gaining my living by my music.' 'Stay here then a few days, and when you wish to leave I will give you what you ask for in your song -- your heart's desire.' So the lute player stayed on in the palace and sang and played almost all day long to the king, who could never tire of listening and almost forgot to eat or drink or to torment people. He cared for nothing but the music, and nodded his head as he declared, 'There's nothing like your playing and singing. It makes me feel as if some gentle hand had lifted every care and sorrow from me.' After three days the lute player came to take leave of the king. 'Well,' said the king, 'what do you desire as your reward?' 'Sire, give me one of your prisoners. You have so many in your prison, and I should be glad of a companion on my journeys. When I hear his happy voice as I travel along I shall think of you and thank you.' 'Come along then,' said the king, 'choose whom you will.' And he took the lute player through the prison himself. The queen walked about amongst the prisoners, and at length she picked out her husband and took him with her on her journey. They were long on their way, but he never found out who she was, and she led him nearer and nearer to his own country. When they reached the frontier the prisoner said, 'Let me go now, kind lad; I am no common prisoner, but the king of this country. Let me go free and ask what you will as your reward.' 'Do not speak of reward,' answered the lute player. 'Go in peace.' 'Then come with me, dear boy, and be my guest.' 'When the proper time comes I shall be at your palace,' was the reply, and so they parted. The queen took a short way home, got there before the king and changed her dress. An hour later all the people in the palace were running to and fro and crying out, 'Our king has come back! Our king has returned to us.' The king greeted every one very kindly, but he would not so much as look at the queen. Then he called all his council and ministers together and said to them, 'See what sort of a wife I have. Here she is falling on my neck, but when I was pining in prison and sent her word of it she did nothing to help me.' And his council answered with one voice, 'Sire, when news was brought from you, the queen disappeared and no one knew where she went. She only returned today.' Then the king was very angry and cried, 'Judge my faithless wife! Never would you have seen your king again, if a young lute player had not delivered him. I shall remember him with love and gratitude as long as I live.' Whilst the king was sitting with his council, the queen found time to disguise herself. She took her lute, and slipping into the court in front of the palace she sang, clear and sweet: I sing the captive's longing Within his prison wall, Of hearts that sigh when none are nigh To answer to their call. My song begs for your pity, And gifts from out your store And as I play my gentle lay I linger near your door. And if you hear my singing Within your palace, sire, Oh! give, I pray, this happy day To me my heart's desire. As soon as the king heard this song he ran out to meet the lute player, took him by the hand and led him into the palace. 'Here,' he cried, 'is the boy who released me from my prison. And now, my true friend, I will indeed give you your heart's desire.' 'I am sure you will not be less generous than the heathen king was, sire. I ask of you what I asked and obtained from him. But this time I don't mean to give up what I get. I want you -- yourself!' And as she spoke she threw off her long cloak and everyone saw it was the queen. Who can tell how happy the king was? In the joy of his heart he gave a great feast to the whole world, and the whole world came and rejoiced with him for a whole week. I was there too, and ate and drank many good things. I shan't forget that feast as long as I live.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
888,The Man Hitched to a Plow,France / Germany,Translated by D. L. Ashliman. In later editions this legend is numbered 537. The Grimms' source: A Flemish chapbook entitled Florentina de getrouwe. Lorraine is a region in France that has historical ties to Germany.,"Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Mann im Pflug,' Deutsche Sagen, herausgegeben von den Brüdern Grimm, vol. 2 (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1818), no. 531, pp. 277-80. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Mann im Pflug,' Deutsche Sagen, herausgegeben von den Brüdern Grimm, vol. 2 (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1818), no. 531, pp. 277-80.","At Metz in Lorraine there lived a noble knight by the name of Alexander with his beautiful and virtuous wife Florentina. This knight vowed to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Grave. Unable to dissuade him from this journey, his sorrowful wife made for him a white shirt with a red cross and asked him to wear it. The knight then journeyed abroad and was captured by the infidels. He and his unfortunate companions were hitched to a plow and under the blows of a whip were forced to till the fields until blood ran from their bodies. Miraculously, only the shirt that Alexander had received from his wife and which he always wore remained clean and unstained. Rain, sweat, and blood did it no harm, nor did it tear. The Sultan himself learned of this rare circumstance, and he asked the slave precisely about his name, where he was from, and who had given him the shirt. The knight told him everything, adding, 'I have the shirt from my virtuous wife. That it remains so white proves to me her continuing faithfulness and chastity.' The pagan, his curiosity aroused by this news, resolved to secretly send one of his people to Metz who should spare neither money nor property in order to seduce the knight's wife, and thus determine if the shirt's color would change. The foreigner journeyed to Lorraine, scouted out the wife, then reported to her how miserable her husband was in the pagan land. This greatly saddened her, but she remained steadfastly virtuous. The emissary spent all his money in his unsuccessful attempts to seduce her, then returned to Turkey. Soon afterward Florentina dressed herself as a pilgrim, took up her harp, which she played very well, and set forth following foreign pagan. She caught up with him in Venice, then traveled with him to the land of the pagans, without his recognizing her in her disguise. Arriving at the pagan king's court, the pilgrim so captured him with singing and playing that great presents were offered to her. Rejecting them all, the pilgrim requested one of the captured Christians who were plowing. The request was granted, and Florentina, unrecognized, went to the prisoners, coming finally to the plow where her husband was hitched. Then she requested and received this prisoner, and together they journeyed safely across the sea until they arrived home in Germany. While still a two days' journey from Metz, the pilgrim said to Alexander, 'Brother, our paths part here. As a remembrance give me a little piece from your shirt, whose miracle I have heard so much about, so that I can tell and convince others about it.' The knight agreed to this, cut a piece from the shirt and gave it to the pilgrim. Then they parted. However, Florentina took a shorter way and arrived in Metz one whole day earlier than he did. She put on her accustomed women's clothes and awaited her husband's arrival. Alexander greeted his wife most tenderly, but soon afterward his friends and relatives began whispering to him that Florentina had traveled about the world for twelve months, leading an immoral life and letting no one hear from her. Alexander, burning with anger, ordered a feast where he publicly accused his wife of unbecoming behavior. Saying nothing, she left the room, went to her chamber, put on the pilgrim's garb that she had worn at that time, took up her harp, and then reappeared. Holding the piece cut from his shirt in her hand, she proved that she had been the pilgrim who had redeemed him from the plow. Then all her accusers fell silently at her feet, and her husband tearfully begged her for forgiveness. herausgegeben von den Brüdern Grimm, vol. 2 (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1818), no. 531, pp. 277-80. getrouwe.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
888,The Tsaritsa Harpist,Russia,"Magnus's source: Alexander Afanasyev, Russian Fairy Tales, collected between 1855 and 1863. The great Russian folklorist's family name Афанасьев is also transliterated as Afanasief, Afanasiev or Afanas'ev. His work was consciously modeled after the Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales) of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. A gusli is a Slavic stringed instrument related to the zither.","Source (books.google.com): Russian Folk-Tales, translated from the Russian by Leonard A. Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 75-77. Source (Internet Archive): Russian Folk-Tales, translated from the Russian by Leonard A. Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 75-77.","In a certain kingdom in a certain land once there lived a tsar and a tsaritsa. He lived with her for some time, then he thought he would go to that far distant country where the Jews crucified Christ. So he issued orders to his ministers, bade farewell to his wife, and set out on his road. It may be far, it may be short, he at last reached that distant land where the Jews crucified Christ. And in that country then the accursed king was the ruler. This king saw the tsar, and he bade him be seized and lodged in the dungeon. There were many tortures in that dungeon for him. At night he must sit in chains, and in the morning the accursed king used to put a horse-collar on him and make him drive the plough until the evening. This was the torment in which the tsar lived for three whole years, and he had no idea how he should tear himself away or send any news of himself to his tsaritsa. And he sought for some occasion. And he wrote her this little line: 'Sell,' he said, 'all my possessions and come to redeem me from my misfortune.' When the tsaritsa received the letter she read it through and said to herself, 'How can I redeem the tsar? If I go myself, the accursed king will receive me and will take me to himself as a wife. If I send one of the ministers, I can place no reliance on him.' So what did she advise? She cut off her red hair, went and disguised herself as a wandering musician, took her gusli, and never told anybody, and so set out on her road and way. She arrived at the accursed king's courtyard and began to play the gusli so finely as had never been heard or listened to for ages. When the king heard such wonderful music he summoned the harpist into the palace. 'Hail, guslyar! From what land have you come? From what kingdom?' asked the king. 'I do not journey far in the wide white world: I rejoice men's hearts, and I feed myself.' 'Stay with me one day and another day, and a third, and I will reward you generously.' So the guslyar stayed on, and played for an entire day in front of the king, and he could never hear enough of her. 'What wonderful music! Why, it drove away all weariness and grief as though at a breath.' So the guslyar stayed with the king three days, and, was going to say farewell. 'What reward can I offer you for your labour? ' asked the king. 'Oh, your majesty, give me one prisoner who has sat long in the prison. I must have a companion on the road! I wish to go to foreign kingdoms, and I have no one with whom I can exchange a word.' 'Certainly! Select whom you will,' said the king, and he led the guslyar into the prison. The guslyar looked at the prisoners, selected the tsar, and they went out to roam together. As they were journeying on to their own kingdom the tsar said, 'Let me go, good man, for I am no simple prisoner, I am the tsar himself. I will pay you ransom for as much as you will; I will grudge you neither money nor service.' 'Go with God,' said the guslyar. 'I do not need you at all.' 'Well, come to me as my guest.' 'When the time shall come, I will be there.' So they parted, and each set out on his own way. The tsaritsa went by a circuitous route, reached home before her husband, took off her guslyar's dress and arrayed herself like an empress. In about one hour cries rang out and the attendants came up to the palace, for the tsar had arrived. The tsaritsa ran out to meet him, and he greeted them all, but he did not look at her. He greeted the ministers and said, 'Look, gentlemen, what a wife mine is! Now she flings herself on my neck, but when I sat in prison and sent her a letter to sell all my goods and to redeem me she did nothing. Of what was she thinking if she so forgot her liege husband?' And the ministers answered the tsar, 'Your majesty, on the very day the tsaritsa received your letter she vanished no one knows where, and has been away all this time, and she has only just appeared in the palace.' Then the tsar was very angry and commanded, 'My ministers, do ye judge my unfaithful wife according to justice and to truth. Where has she been roaming in the white world? Why did she not try to redeem me? You would never have seen your tsar again for ages of eternity, if a young guslyar had not arrived, for whom I am going to pray God, and I do not grudge giving him half my kingdom.' In the meantime the tsaritsa got off her throne and arrayed herself as the harpist, went into the courtyard and began to play the gusli. The tsar heard, ran to meet her, seized the musician by the hand, led her into the palace and said to his court, 'This is the guslyar who rescued me from my confinement.' The guslyar then flung off his outer garment, and they then all recognised the tsaritsa. Then the tsar was overjoyed and for his joy he celebrated a feast which lasted seven whole days. Афанасьев is also transliterated as Afanasief, Afanasiev or Afanas'ev. His work was consciously modeled after the Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales) of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
555,Hanns Dudeldee,"Germany, Albert Ludewig Grimm","Albert Ludewig Grimm was not related to the famous Grimm brothers, Jacob and Wilhelm. Although Albert Ludewig's collection of 'children's fairy tales' was published three years before Jacob's and Wilhelm's pioneering collection, it had but little impact and is today virtually unknown. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 555.","Albert Ludewig Grimm, 'Hanns Dudeldee: ein Mährchen,' Kindermährchen (Heidelberg: Mohr und Zimmer, [1809], pp. 77-92.","A long time ago, many hundreds of years ago, there lived a fisherman with his wife. His name was Dudeldee. They were so poor that they did not have a real house, but lived in a hut made of boards without any windows. They looked out through the knot holes. In spite all this, Dudeldee was satisfied, but not his wife. She wished for this or that and constantly tormented her husband because he could not give it to her. Dudeldee usually said nothing, thinking only to himself, 'If only I were rich,' or 'If only I could have everything I wished for.' One evening he was standing with his wife before their front door looking around their neighborhood. There were a number of handsome farmhouses nearby. Then his wife said to him, 'If we only had a hut as good as the worst of our neighbors' houses. We could have such a one, but you are too lazy. You can't work the way other people work.' Dudeldee asked, 'What? Don't I work as hard as other people? Don't I stand there fishing the entire day?' 'No!' answered his wife. 'You could get up earlier and catch as many fish before daybreak as you now get during the whole day. But you are too lazy. You don't want to do anything.' And thus she scolded him on and on. So the next morning he got up early and went out to the lake to fish. By the time he saw people going to their fields to work he still had caught nothing. Noon came, and the mowers sat in the shade and ate their noon meals, and still he had caught nothing. Sadly he sat down and pulled his moldy bread from his pocket and ate it. Then he went back to fishing. The sun moved downward, and the mowers went home, the shepherds drove their herds into their enclosures, the cow herds returned home, and the fields grew quiet. But Dudeldee still stood there, and still he had not even one little fish. It was almost dark when he thought about going home. He would throw out his net just one more time and try to catch something. He threw it out, and as if were trying to lure the fish into it, he called out: 'Little fish, little fish, in the sea!' 'What do you want, Hanns Dudeldee?' asked a little fish that had swum up, sticking his head a little above the water. Poor Hanns Dudeldee was startled to see the little fish, but he collected himself and thought, 'If all I have to do is to want something, you will not have to ask me again.' He looked around to see what he might wish for. On the other side of the lake there stood a handsome palace from which he could hear the beautiful music of horns resounding. At the same time he thought of his wife's wish to have a better house, so he said, 'I would like a country house like that one over there. I would like such a palace instead of my little board hut.' 'Just go home,' said the little fish. 'Your board hut is now such a palace.' More running than walking, Hanns Dudeldee returned home. Already at some distance, he saw that at the place where his house formerly stood there was now a splendid palace with brightly illuminated rooms. Entering, he saw that everything was so splendid that he did not know how to behave. The entryway was paved with marble. The living-room floor was of inlaid wood, and polished with wax. The walls were covered with wallpaper. Magnificent chandeliers hung in the high halls. In short, everything was so beautiful that Hans Dudeldee did not dare to walk around inside. He could not believe that this was his property. He thought he had entered the wrong house and would have left, if his wife had not met him on the steps. He had scarcely seen her when he asked her, 'Now are you satisfied with the house?' and he told her what had happened. 'What?' she answered. 'Do you think that what we have here is a miracle? I saw much better houses in the city when I was in service there. It is passable, but how could you be so stupid? You forgot the best things. Just look at our clothes against this nice house! See how they stand out! At the same time you should have wished for beautiful clothes for me and for you. But you are too stupid and lazy. You don't even make use of the little bit of intelligence that you have.' And thus she continued to scold and bicker until she fell asleep. The next morning at daybreak Hanns Dudeldee went back to the same place, once again threw out his net, and once again called out: 'What do you want, Hanns Dudeldee?' Thus replied the little fish once again, and Dudeldee did not have to think long before saying that he wanted beautiful clothing for his wife and for himself, clothing that was appropriate for their new house. 'You have it,' said the little fish, and Dudeldee stood there wearing a cloth jacket with gold braid, silk stockings and shoes, and an embroidered vest, everything in keeping with the fashion of the time. Returning home, he would have scarcely recognized his wife in her silk clothing, but she looked out the window and asked, 'Hanns, is that you?' 'Yes,' he answered. 'Are you satisfied now?' 'We'll see!' she answered. Thus they lived peacefully for a time. But one day, when her husband wanted to go out fishing again, she said, 'Why do you need to go fishing? Give that up and instead wish for yourself a chest filled with gold.' 'Hmm, that is true!' thought Dudeldee, and he went out to the lake, once again threw out his net and called out: asked the little fish once again. 'Oh, a chest filled with gold,' he said. 'Just go home,' said the little fish And when he arrived home, standing in his bedroom was a chest filled with gold pieces. Thus they lived high and well. She bought herself a coach and horses, and a riding horse for her husband. They often drove into the cities, and they engaged a cook and servants. The neighbors always called her the arrogant fishwife. This annoyed her greatly, so she told her husband to make her the ruler over all the neighbors. Once again he went out with his net, threw it into the water, and called out: asked the little fish. 'I would like to be a nobleman or a count and to rule over all my neighbors.' 'Just go home. It is so.' When he arrived home the neighbors were paying homage to his wife. She already had had a few of the neighbor women locked up who previously had called her the arrogant fishwife. Now they often drove to the capital city where the king resided, wanting to join company with other counts. But they did not know how to conduct themselves with the manners of nobility, and everyone ridiculed them. Some countesses would refer to her only as Fish Countess and him as Fish Count Dudeldee. So she again spoke to her husband, 'Go out and have yourself made king. I do not want to be called Fish Countess any longer. I want to be queen.' However, Hanns Dudeldee advised her against this, saying, 'Just remember how it was when we were poor, and we wished for a little hut as good as the worst of our neighbors' houses. Now we have a surplus of everything. Let us call it enough.' But his wife did not want to call it enough, and she said, 'What? I am to put up with being called Fish Countess? I am to bear the city women's pride? No! They must know who I am. I shall show them! And yet you want to be so simple as to accept all this?' And thus she scolded forth, until he promised to make her queen. Consequently he went out to the sea, repeated once again his little verse, and the little fish again appeared and again asked, 'What do you want, Count Dudeldee?' He presented the request, that he would like to be king. The little fish said, 'You are!' Returning home, he found that his palace had changed magnificently. It was now much larger. Marshals and ministers with a golden star and golden keys received him with deep bows. His head suddenly became very heavy. He wanted to take off his hat, but behold! Instead of a hat he had a heavy golden crown on his head. And when he saw his wife, he hardly recognized her, so much did her gown glisten with gold and jewels. When he asked her if she was now satisfied, she said, 'Yes, until I once again come to know something better. I would be a fool if I could be better off, and did not do so.' Thus they lived contentedly for a time, and Dudeldee's wife did not wish for anything further, for she had everything that she possibly could want. She had even taken revenge on the countesses who had called her Countess Fish. But finally she came to lack something. She read in the newspaper about the luxury and the expenditures at other kings' courts, and heard that there were other kings and emperors who ruled over many more people and over much more powerful kingdoms than did Dudeldee. Consequently she again approached him, and tormented him until he promised her to become the most powerful king on earth. Once again he threw out his net, and called out: 'What do you want, King Dudeldee?' asked the little fish, and Dudeldee said, 'Just make me the most powerful king or emperor on earth.' And immediately that is what he was. When he arrived home ambassadors and deputies from all the kingdoms and all the parts of the earth were there. Poor poets with poems to Atlas awaited him. Schoolmasters who needed better salaries were there with their petitions. Chamberlains, with their hats under their arms, walked back and forth. Peasants engaged in lawsuits wanted an audience. Guards walked up and down. A coach with ten horses, twenty cavaliers, and six couriers was standing there, ready to depart. In an adjacent courtyard there were peacocks and guinea fowls. In short, everything was there that would please such a great emperor. There were even two court jesters who were always near him. The new Emperor Dudeldee was of course angry that these two foolish people were always following him about wherever he might go, and he complained to his wife about them, for after all, he would rather be in the company of reasonable people than of fools. But she told him that he did not understand. It just had to be that way. All important gentlemen preferred to be with fools. Now he was not going to be a fool himself and make an exception. Finally he gave in, and was happy that his wife was satisfied, but their happiness did not last long. One day he came to her and found her very sad. 'What is wrong?' he asked her. 'Oh,' she said, 'I am unhappy about the rainy weather. It has lasted four days now, and I would like to have some sunshine. In fact, I wish that I could do everything that God can do, so that I could have spring and summer and fall and winter exactly when I wanted them.' Thus she spoke to him, and he liked her idea as well. 'Why,' he thought, 'then I could go out in the rain and come home in the sunshine that my wife had made. I could even get rid of the fools.' Thinking this to himself, he immediately took his fishing net and slipped out a back entrance into the rain. He went to the sea, threw in his net, and again said, as before: 'What do you want, Emperor Dudeldee?' the little fish asked. 'Oh,' he said, 'only that my wife would like to be able to do whatever God can do: make rain and sunshine, and have spring and summer and fall and winter exactly when she wants them.' 'So! Is that all?' asked the little fish. 'No, no, Emperor Dudeldee, I see that nothing is good enough for you and your wife. Therefore become the old fisherman Dudeldee once again, for then you were not as proud and unsatisfied as you are now. Then the little fish disappeared. Hanns Dudeldee called out repeatedly: But no little fish asked: And there he stood, as before, without a jacket, wearing only his dirty leather trousers. And when he returned home, the palace was gone. His little board hut was standing there again, with his wife inside in her dirty clothing and looking out through a knothole, as before, and once again she was the wife of Fisherman Dudeldee. Kindermährchen (Heidelberg: Mohr und Zimmer, [1809], pp. 77-92. Albert Ludewig Grimm was not related to the famous Grimm brothers, Jacob and Wilhelm. Although Albert Ludewig's collection of 'children's fairy tales' was published three years before Jacob's and Wilhelm's pioneering collection, it had but little impact and is today virtually unknown.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
555,The Bullock's Balls,India,Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 115.,"Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey, vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 2, story 6, pp. 194-96.","In a certain place there lived a large bullock by the name of Tîkschnabrischana, which means 'having substantial balls.' Because of his excessive pride, he left his herd and wandered about in the forest, tearing up the banks as he pleased and devouring the emerald-colored grass. In this same forest there lived a jackal by the name of Pralobhaka, which means 'the greedy one.' One day he was sitting pleasantly with his wife on an island in the river. Tîkschnabrischana came up to this island to have a drink of water. When the jackal's wife saw the balls, she said to her husband, 'Master, just look! This bullock has two pieces of meat hanging down. They will be falling off immediately, at the least in a few hours. Take heed of this, and follow him.' The jackal answered, 'Loved one, there is nothing certain about their falling off. Why do you ask me to set forth on such a futile task? Let me stay here with you, and together we can eat the mice that come here to drink. This is their pathway. If I leave you to follow the bullock, then someone else will come here and take over this spot. It is not a good idea, for it is said: He who gives up a sure thing for an uncertainty will lose the sure thing, and the uncertainty will remain just that.' The jackal's wife said, 'Oh, you are a low-spirited creature. You are satisfied with the worst things that you can find. They also say: It is easy to fill a little brook and also the paws of a little mouse. Ordinary people are easily satisfied. They are pleased with the smallest things. For this reason a good man must always be active. They also say: With every beginning there is a will to act. Avoid idleness, and join the community of the intelligent and the powerful. Think not that fate alone rules. Cease not to work. Without effort the sesame seed will not give up its oil. And further: A foolish man is happy with little. His heart is satisfied just thinking of wealth. It is thus not appropriate for you to say, 'It is uncertain, whether or not they will fall off.' It is also said: Active people deserve praise. Those with pride will be praised. What sort of scoundrel will wait until Indra brings him water? Furthermore, I am mightily tired of eating mouse meat. These two pieces of meat look as though they will soon fall off. You must follow him. Nothing else will do!' After hearing all this, the jackal left his mouse catching, and followed after Tîkschnabrischana. They rightly say: A man is master in all things, until he lets his will be turned by a woman's words. And further: The impossible seems possible, the unachievable easily achieved, and the inedible edible to the man who is spurred on by a woman's words. Thus, together with his wife, he followed the bullock a long time, but the two balls did not fall off. In the fifteenth year, the jackal finally said wearily to his wife, 'Fifteen years, my love, I have kept my eyes on those hanging things to see whether or not they are going to fall off, but they still hold fast. Nor will they fall off in the future. Let us return to catching mice!' Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
555,The Fisherman and His Wife,Germany,"The Grimms' source for this tale, recorded in wonderfully simple, but poetic Low German, was the romantic painter Philipp Otto Runge (1777-1810). In 1806 Runge sent a manuscript of this tale to the publisher of Achim von Arnim's and Clemens Brentano's collection of folk poetry Des Knaben Wunderhorn. In 1809 the manuscript was made available to the Grimm brothers, and they included the tale in the first edition (and -- with stylistic and dialect variations -- all succeeding editions) of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen. A somewhat different version of Runge's manuscript also found its way to Johann Gustav Büsching, who published the tale as no. 58 in his Volks-Sagen, Märchen und Legenden (Leipzig: Carl Heinrich Reclam, 1812), pp. 258-66. This work appeared before the Grimm's collection, which was also published in 1812. Translator's notes: The couple's place of residence, in the Grimms' Low German, is called a 'Pisputt.' (Büsching was more cautious, using the truncated spelling 'P--pot.') Most translators give this unambiguously earthy word a figurative meaning in English. Thus, one sees 'shack,' 'pigsty,' 'miserable little hovel,' 'dirty hovel,' and 'chamber pot' in various English translations. I have chosen to keep with the low road, and call a Pisputt a piss pot. I have left untranslated the formulaic introduction to the fisherman's oft-repeated call to the fish, 'Mandje! Mandje! Timpe Te!' From other sources it is evident that 'Mandje' is a dialect word for 'Little Man,' as in High German 'Männchen.' 'Timpe Te' appears to be the fisherman's name -- elsewhere he is called 'Domine' or 'Dudeldee.' Thus the verse, as recorded by Philipp Otto Runge and immortalized by the Grimm brothers, appears to be a corruption of a more logical version (not unusual in folklore). Logically the fish, not the fisherman, would call out the greeting, 'Mandje! Mandje! Timpe Te!' The couple's place of residence, in the Grimms' Low German, is called a 'Pisputt.' (Büsching was more cautious, using the truncated spelling 'P--pot.') Most translators give this unambiguously earthy word a figurative meaning in English. Thus, one sees 'shack,' 'pigsty,' 'miserable little hovel,' 'dirty hovel,' and 'chamber pot' in various English translations. I have chosen to keep with the low road, and call a Pisputt a piss pot. I have left untranslated the formulaic introduction to the fisherman's oft-repeated call to the fish, 'Mandje! Mandje! Timpe Te!' From other sources it is evident that 'Mandje' is a dialect word for 'Little Man,' as in High German 'Männchen.' 'Timpe Te' appears to be the fisherman's name -- elsewhere he is called 'Domine' or 'Dudeldee.' Thus the verse, as recorded by Philipp Otto Runge and immortalized by the Grimm brothers, appears to be a corruption of a more logical version (not unusual in folklore). Logically the fish, not the fisherman, would call out the greeting, 'Mandje! Mandje! Timpe Te!' Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 555. Link to the Grimms' final version (1857) of this tale Von dem Fischer un syner Fru, in Low German.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Von den Fischer und siiner Fru,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), v. 1, no. 19.","There was once upon a time a fisherman and his wife who lived together in a piss pot near the sea. Every day the fisherman went out fishing, and he fished a long time. Once he was sitting there fishing and looking into the clear water when his hook went to the bottom, deep down, and when he pulled it out, he had caught a large flounder. Then the flounder said to him, 'I beg you to let me live. I am not an ordinary flounder, but an enchanted prince. Put me back into the water, and let me swim.' 'Well,' said the man, 'there's no need to say more. I can certainly let a fish swim away who knows how to talk.' Then he put it back into the water, and the flounder quickly disappeared to the bottom, leaving a long trail of blood behind him. The man then went home to his wife in the piss pot and told her that he had caught a flounder that had told him he was an enchanted prince, and that he had let it swim away. 'Didn't you ask for anything first?' said the woman. 'No,' said the man. What should I have asked for?' 'Oh,' said the woman. 'It is terrible living in this piss pot. It is filled with stench and filth. Go back and ask for a little hut for us.' The man did not want to, but he went back to the sea, and when he arrived it was all yellow and green, and he stood next to the water and said: The flounder swam up and said, 'What does she want then?' 'Oh,' said the man, 'I did catch you, and my wife says that I really should have asked for something. She doesn't want to live in a piss pot any longer. She would like to have a hut.' 'Go home,' said the flounder. 'She already has it.' The man went home, and his wife was standing in the door of a hut, and she said to him, 'Come in. See, now isn't this much better.' And there was a parlor and a bedroom and a kitchen; and outside there was a little garden with all kinds of vegetables, and a yard with hens and ducks. 'Oh,' said the man. 'Now we can live well.' 'Yes,' said the woman, 'we'll give it a try.' Everything went well for a week or two, and then the woman said, 'Husband. This hut is too small. The yard and the garden are too little. I want to live in a large stone castle. Go back to the flounder and tell him to get a castle for us.' 'Oh, wife,' said the man. The flounder has just given us the hut. I don't want to go back so soon. It may make the flounder angry.' 'I know he can do it,' said the woman, 'and he won't mind. Just go!' So, with a heavy heart, the man went back, and when he came to the sea, the water was quite purple and gray and dark blue, but it was still, and he stood there and said: 'What does she want then?' said the flounder. 'Oh,' said the man sadly, 'my wife wants to live in a stone castle.' 'Go home. She's already standing before the door,' said the flounder. So the man went home, and his wife was standing in front of a large palace. 'See, husband,' she said. 'Isn't this beautiful?' And with that they went inside together. There were many servants inside, and the walls were all white, and there were golden chairs and tables in the parlor, and outside the castle there was a garden and a forest a half mile long, and there were elk and deer and rabbits, and there were cow and horse stalls in the yard. 'Oh,' said the man, 'now we can stay in this beautiful castle and be satisfied.' 'We'll think about it,' said the woman. 'Let's sleep on it.' And with that they went to bed. The next morning the woman awoke. It was daylight. She poked her husband in the side with her elbow and said, 'Husband, get up. We should be king over all this land.' 'Oh, wife,' said the man, 'why do you want to be king? I don't want to be king.' 'Well, I want to be king.' 'Oh, wife,' said the man, 'how can you be king? The flounder won't want to do that.' 'Husband,' said the woman, 'Go there immediately. I want to be king.' So the man, saddened because his wife wanted to be king, went back. And when he arrived at the sea it was dark gray, and the water heaved up from below. He stood there and said: 'What does she want then,' said the flounder. 'Oh,' said the man, 'my wife wants to be king.' 'Go home. She's already king,' said the flounder. Then the man went home, and when he arrived at the palace, there were so many soldiers, and drums, and trumpets, and his wife was sitting on a high throne of gold and diamonds, and she was wearing a large golden crown and on either side of her there stood a line of maidens-in-waiting, each one a head shorter than the other. 'Oh,' said the man, 'are you king now?' 'Yes,' she said, 'I am king.' And after he had looked at her awhile, he said, 'It is nice that you are king. Now we don't have to wish for anything else.' 'No, husband,' she said, 'I have been king too long. I can't stand it any longer. I am king, but now I would like to become emperor.' 'Oh,' said the man, 'why do you want to become emperor?' 'Husband,' she said, 'go to the flounder. I want to be emperor.' 'Oh, wife,' said the man, 'he can't make you emperor. I can't tell him to do that.' 'I am king,' said the woman, 'and you are my husband. Now go there immediately!' So the man went, and on his way he thought, 'This is not going to end well. To ask to be emperor is shameful. The flounder is going to get tired of this.' With that he arrived at the sea. The water was entirely black and dense, and a strong wind blew over him that curdled the water. He stood there and said: 'What does she want then,' said the flounder. 'Oh,' he said, 'my wife wants to become emperor.' 'Go home,' said the flounder. 'She's already emperor.' Then the man went home, and when he arrived, his wife was sitting on a very high throne made of one piece of gold, and she was wearing a large golden crown that was two yards high, and guards were standing at her side, each one smaller than the other, beginning with the largest giant and ending with the littlest dwarf, who was no larger than my little finger. Many princes and counts were standing in front of her. The man went and stood among them and said, 'Wife, are you emperor now?' 'Yes,' she said, 'I am emperor.' 'Oh,' said the man, taking a good look at her. 'Wife, it's good that you are emperor.' 'Husband,' she said. 'Why are you standing there? I'm emperor now, and I want to become pope as well.' 'Oh, wife!' said the man. 'Why do you want to become pope. There is only one pope in all Christendom.' 'Husband,' she said, 'I want to become pope before the day is done.' 'No, wife,' he said, 'the flounder cannot make you pope. It's not good.' 'Husband, what nonsense! If he can make me emperor, then he can make me pope as well. Now go there immediately!' Then the man went, and he felt sick all over, and his knees and legs were shaking, and the wind was blowing, and the water looked like it was boiling, and ships, tossing and turning on the waves, were firing their guns in distress. There was a little blue in the middle of the sky, but on all sides it had turned red, as in a terrible lightning storm. Full of despair he stood there and said: 'What does she want then?' said the flounder. 'Oh,' said the man, 'my wife wants to become pope.' 'Go home,' said the flounder. 'She's already pope.' Then he went home, and when he arrived there, his wife was sitting on a throne that was two miles high, and she was wearing three large crowns. She was surrounded with church-like splendor, and at her sides there were two banks of candles. The largest was as thick and as tall as the largest tower, down to the smallest kitchen candle. 'Wife,' said the man, giving her a good look, 'are you pope now?' 'Yes,' she said, 'I am pope.' 'Oh,' said the man. 'It is good that you are pope. Wife, we can be satisfied, now that you are pope. There's nothing else that you can become.' 'I have to think about that,' said the woman. Then they both went to bed, but she was not satisfied. Her desires would not let her sleep. She kept thinking what she wanted to become next. Then the sun came up. 'Aha,' she thought, as she watched the sunrise through her window. 'Couldn't I cause the sun to rise?' Then she became very grim and said to her husband, 'Husband, go back to the flounder. I want to become like God.' The man, who was still mostly asleep, was so startled that he fell out of bed. 'Oh, wife,' he said, 'go on as you are and remain pope.' 'No,' said the woman, tearing open her bodice. 'I will not be quiet. I can't stand it when I see the sun and the moon coming up, and I can't cause them to rise. I want to become like God!' 'Oh, wife,' said the man. 'The flounder can't do that. He can make you emperor and pope, but he can't do that.' 'Husband,' she said, looking very gruesome, 'I want to become like God. Go to the flounder right now!' The man trembled with fear at every joint. Outside there was a terrible storm. Trees and mountains were shaking. The heaven was completely black, and there was thunder and lightning. In the sea he could see black waves as high as mountains, and they were capped with white crowns of foam. He said: 'What does she want then,' said the flounder. 'Oh,' he said, 'she wants to become like God.' 'Go home. She is sitting in her piss pot again.' And they are sitting there even today.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
555,"The Old Man, His Wife, and the Fish",Russia,The introductory note is signed by C. J. T. [Charles John Tibbits]. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 555.,"Folk-Lore and Legends: Russian and Polish (London: W. W. Gibbings, 1890), pp. 35-41.","There once lived in a hut on the shores of the Isle of Buyan an old man and his wife. They were very poor. The old man used to go to the sea daily to fish, and they only just managed to live on what he caught. One day he let down his net and drew it in. It seemed to be very heavy. He dragged and dragged, and at last got it to shore. There he found that he had caught one little fish of a kind he had never before seen, a golden fish. The fish spoke to him in a man's voice. 'Do not keep me, old man,' it said; 'let me go once more free in the sea and I will reward you for it, for whatever you wish I will do.' The old man thought for a while. Then he said, 'Well, I don't want you. Go into the sea again,' and he threw the fish into the water and went home. 'Well,' said his wife, when he got home, 'what have you caught today?' 'Only one little fish,' said the man, 'a golden fish, and that I let go again, it begged so hard. 'Put me in the blue sea again,' it said, ' and I will reward you, for whatever you wish I will do.' So I let it go, and did not ask anything.' 'Ah, you old fool!' said the wife in a great rage, 'what an opportunity you have lost. You might, at least, have asked the fish to give us some bread. We have scarce a crust in the house.' The old woman grumbled so much that her husband could have no quiet, so to please her off he went to the seashore, and there he cried out: Little fish, little fish, come now to me, Your tail in the water, your head out of sea! The fish came to the shore. 'Well, what do you want, old man?' it asked. 'My wife,' said the man, 'is in a great passion, and has sent me to ask for bread.' 'Very well,' said the fish, 'go home and you shall have it.' The old man went back, and when he entered the hut he found bread in plenty. 'Well,' said he to his wife, 'we have enough bread now.' 'Oh yes!' said she, 'but I have had such a misfortune while you were away. I have broken the bucket. What shall I do the washing in now? Go to the fish, and ask it to give us a new bucket.' Away went the man. Standing on the shore he called out: The fish soon made its appearance. 'Well, old man,' it said, 'what do you want?' 'My wife,' said the man, ' has had a misfortune, and has broken our bucket. So I have come to ask for a new one.' 'Very well,' said the fish, 'you shall find one at home.' The old man went back. As soon as he got home his wife said to him, 'Be off to the golden fish again, and ask it to give us a new hut. Ours is all coming to pieces. We have scarcely a roof over our heads.' The old man once more came to the shore, and cried: The fish came. 'Well, what is it?' asked the fish. 'My wife,' said the man, 'is in a very bad temper, and has sent me to ask you to build us a new cottage. She says she cannot live any longer in our present one.' 'Oh, do not be troubled about that,' said the fish. 'Go home. You shall have what you want.' The old man went back again, and in the place of his miserable hovel he found a new hut built of oak and nicely ornamented. The old man was delighted, but as soon as he went in his wife set on him, saying, 'What an idiot you are! You do not know how to take good fortune when it is offered to you. You think you have done a great thing just because you have got a new hut. Be off again to the golden fish, and tell it I will not be a mere peasant's wife any longer, I will be an archduchess, with plenty of servants, and set the fashion.' The old man went to the golden fish. 'What is it?' asked the fish. 'My wife will not let me rest,' replied the man; 'she wants now to be an archduchess, and is not content with being my wife.' 'Well, it shall be as she wishes. Go home again,' said the fish. Away went the man. How astonished was he, when, on coming to where his house had stood, he now found a fine mansion, three stories high. Servants crowded the hall, and cooks were busy in the kitchens. On a seat in a fine room sat the man's wife, dressed in robes shining with gold and silver, and giving orders. 'Good day, wife!' said the man. 'Who are you, man?' said his wife. 'What have you to do with me, a fine lady? Take the clown away,' said she to her servants. 'Take him to the stable, and whip some of the impudence out of him.' The servants seized the old man, took him off to the stable, and when they had him there beat him so that he hardly knew whether he was alive or not. After that the wife made him the doorkeeper of the house. She gave him a besom, and put him to keep the yard in order. As for his meals, he got them in the kitchen. He had a hard life of it. If the yard was not swept clean, he had to look out. 'Who would have thought she had been such a hag?' said the old man to himself. 'Here she has all such good fortune, and will not even own me for her husband!' After a time the wife got tired of being merely an archduchess, so she said to her husband, 'Go off to the golden fish, and tell it I will be a czarina.' The old man went down to the shore. He cried: The fish came swimming to the shore. 'Well, old man!' it said, 'what do you want?' 'My wife is not yet satisfied,' said the man; 'she wants now to be a czarina,' 'Do not let that trouble you,' said the fish, 'but go to your house. 'What you ask shall be done.' The man went back. In place of the fine house he found a palace with a roof of gold. Soldiers were on guard around it. In front of the palace was a garden, and at the back a fine park, in which some troops were parading. On a balcony stood the czarina surrounded by officers and nobles. The troops presented arms, the drums beat, the trumpets blew, and the people shouted. In a short time the woman got tired of being czarina, and she commanded that her husband should be found and brought to her presence. The palace was all in confusion, for who knew what had become of the old man? Officers and noblemen hurried here and there to search for him. At length he was found in a hut behind the palace. 'Listen, you old idiot!' said his wife. 'Go to the golden fish, and tell it that I am tired of being czarina. I want to rule over all the ocean, to have dominion over every sea and all the fish.' The old man hesitated to go to the fish with such a request. 'Be off!' said his wife, 'or your head shall be cut off.' The man went to the seashore and said: The fish did not come. The man waited, but it was not to be seen. Then he said the words a second time. The waves roared. A short while before it had been bright and calm, now dark clouds covered the sky, the wind howled, and the water seemed of an inky blackness. At length the fish came. 'What do you want, old man?' it asked. 'My old wife,' answered he, 'is not satisfied even now. She says she will be czarina no longer, but will rule over all the waters and all the fish.' The fish made no reply, but dived down and disappeared in the sea. The man went back. What had become of the palace? He looked around, but could not see it. He rubbed his eyes in wonder. On the spot where the palace had stood was the old hut, and at the door stood the old woman in her old rags. So they commenced to live again in their old style. The man often went a-fishing, but he never more caught the golden fish.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
555,The Stonecutter,Japan,"Lang's source: David Brauns, Japanische Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich, 1885), pp. 87-90. This story is similar to type 555 folktales.","Andrew Lang, The Crimson Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1903), pp. 192-97.","Once upon a time there lived a stonecutter, who went every day to a great rock in the side of a big mountain and cut out slabs for gravestones or for houses. He understood very well the kinds of stones wanted for the different purposes, and as he was a careful workman he had plenty of customers. For a long time he was quite happy and contented, and asked for nothing better than what he had. Now in the mountain dwelt a spirit which now and then appeared to men, and helped them in many ways to become rich and prosperous. The stonecutter, however, had never seen this spirit, and only shook his head, with an unbelieving air, when anyone spoke of it. But a time was coming when he learned to change his opinion. One day the stonecutter carried a gravestone to the house of a rich man, and saw there all sorts of beautiful things, of which he had never even dreamed. Suddenly his daily work seemed to grow harder and heavier, and he said to himself: 'Oh, if only I were a rich man, and could sleep in a bed with silken curtains and golden tassels, how happy I should be!' And a voice answered him: 'Your wish is heard; a rich man you shall be!' At the sound of the voice the stonecutter looked around, but could see nobody. He thought it was all his fancy, and picked up his tools and went home, for he did not feel inclined to do any more work that day. But when he reached the little house where he lived, he stood still with amazement, for instead of his wooden hut was a stately palace filled with splendid furniture, and most splendid of all was the bed, in every respect like the one he had envied. He was nearly beside himself with joy, and in his new life the old one was soon forgotten. It was now the beginning of summer, and each day the sun blazed more fiercely. One morning the heat was so great that the stonecutter could scarcely breathe, and he determined he would stop at home till the evening. He was rather dull, for he had never learned how to amuse himself, and was peeping through the closed blinds to see what was going on in the street, when a little carriage passed by, drawn by servants dressed in blue and silver. In the carriage sat a prince, and over his head a golden umbrella was held, to protect him from the sun's rays. 'Oh, if I were only a prince!' said the stonecutter to himself, as the carriage vanished around the corner. 'Oh, if I were only a prince, and could go in such a carriage and have a golden umbrella held over me, how happy I should be!' And a prince he was. Before his carriage rode one company of men and another behind it; servants dressed in scarlet and gold bore him along, the coveted umbrella was held over his head, everything his heart could desire was his. But yet it was not enough. He looked around still for something to wish for, and when he saw that in spite of the water he poured on the grass the rays of the sun scorched it, and that in spite of the umbrella held over his head each day his face grew browner and browner, he cried in his anger: 'The sun is mightier than I; oh, if I were only the sun!' And the mountain spirit answered: 'Your wish is heard; the sun you shall be.' And the sun he was, and felt himself proud in his power. He shot his beams above and below, on earth and in heaven; he burnt up the grass in the fields and scorched the faces of princes as well as of poorer folk. but in a short time he began to grow tired of his might, for there seemed nothing left for him to do. Discontent once more filled his soul, and when a cloud covered his face, and hid the earth from him, he cried in his anger: 'Does the cloud hold captive my rays, and is it mightier than I? Oh, that I were a cloud, and mightier than any!' And the mountain spirit answered: 'Your wish is heard; a cloud you shall be!' And a cloud he was, and lay between the sun and the earth. He caught the sun's beams and held them, and to his joy the earth grew green again and flowers blossomed. But that was not enough for him, and for days and week he poured forth rain till the rivers overflowed their banks, and the crops of rice stood in water. Towns and villages were destroyed by the power of the rain, only the great rock on the mountainside remained unmoved. The cloud was amazed at the sight, and cried in wonder: 'Is the rock, then, mightier than I? Oh, if I were only the rock!' And the mountain spirit answered; 'Your wish is heard; the rock you And the rock he was, and gloried in his power. Proudly he stood, and neither the heat of the sun nor the force of the rain could move him. 'This is better than all!' he said to himself. But one day he heard a strange noise at his feet, and when he looked down to see what it could be, he saw a stonecutter driving tools into his surface. Even while he looked a trembling feeling ran all through him, and a great block broke off and fell upon the ground. Then he cried in his wrath: 'Is a mere child of earth mightier than a rock? Oh, if I were only a man!' And the mountain spirit answered: 'Your wish is heard. A man once more you shall be!' And a man he was, and in the sweat of his brow he toiled again at his trade of stone cutting. His bed was hard and his food scanty, but he had learned to be satisfied with it, and did not long to be something or somebody else. And as he never asked for things he did not have, or desired to be greater and mightier than other people, he was happy at last, and never again heard the voice of the mountain spirit. (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich, 1885), pp. 87-90.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,Foolish Hans,Austria-Hungary,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a poor peasant woman. She was a widow and had but one son. His name was Hans, and he was very stupid. It was summertime, and his mother gave him a large pot of honey, saying, 'I am sending you to town to sell this, but don't let people say too much to you.' She was afraid that people would bargain too much with him. Arriving in town, he cried out, 'Buy my honey!' The people said, 'How much does it cost?' He said, 'You are saying too much to me.' 'Can't we at least ask how much it costs?' 'No,' he said, 'you have already said too much,' and he packed up and left town. Out in the country the flies and wasps swarmed around him, wanting his honey. 'Buy my honey!' he said. They were not able to say anything to him, so he poured his honey out on the ground. 'You'll have to pay me in a week,' he said. Then he went home and told his mother, 'I sold the honey and will get the money in a week.' A week later he again set off for town. Because of the money for the honey he took along a stout cudgel. He arrived at the spot, and there were still bees and flies there licking up the little honey that was left. He said, 'I want my money now,' but they gave him nothing. 'I'll make short work of this,' he said. 'I am reporting you to the judge.' He went to the judge, who asked, 'Just what do you want?' 'The flies and wasps bought honey from me,' he said, 'and now they refuse to pay.' The judge began to laugh, seeing that he was dealing with a real simpleton. 'All I can tell you, is that whenever you see a fly you should strike it dead,' he answered. Just then a fly flew onto the judge's nose, and Hans hit the fly on his nose. 'Ouch, Jeez, my nose!' cried the judge. Then Hans said, 'I was hitting at the fly, not at your nose.' Then the judge thought, 'He could kill someone if he sees a fly sitting on them. And who allowed it to happen? The judge, that's what people will say.' So he asked, 'How much did your honey cost?' 'Three hundred florins,' said Hans. So the judge wrote him a slip and sent him with it to the cashier, and when he received his money, he returned home.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,Fortunio,"Italy, Giovanni Francesco Straparola",NA,NA,"At last the servant, incensed at the boldness and persistency of the fly, rashly made trial to kill it when it was about to settle again on his master's temple and suck his blood. Simple fool that he was, he caught up a weighty bronze pestle, and, striking at the fly with all his might with the intent to kill it, he made an end of the grocer instead. As soon as Fortunio saw that he had slain his master and thereby made himself liable to death by the law, he took counsel with himself how he might best save his neck, and first resolved to seek safety in flight, but he afterwards fixed upon another scheme, which was to bury the corpse secretly. Therefore, having wrapped up the dead body of his master in a sack and carried it into a garden adjacent to the shop, he buried it there. This done he went to the sheepfold, and, having chosen a big old ram, he took it and threw it down the well. As the master did not appear at his usual hour in the evening the wife's suspicion fell upon Fortunio, and she questioned him as to her husband's whereabouts, but the fellow declared stoutly that he knew nothing of it. Then the good wife, overcome with grief, began to weep and to call for her husband aloud, but she called in vain. She went to her kinsfolk and told them her grief; whereupon they sought the governor of the city, and laid the crime to Fortunio's charge, demanding that he should be imprisoned and put to the question, in order to make him tell what had become of his master. The governor, having put the servant in hold and tied him to the rope, gave him the strappado as prescribed by law, on account of the charges against him. Handling of this sort was not to his taste, and he forthwith promised to tell all he knew, if they would let him down. So they brought him before the judge, and this was the cunning tale he had prepared for their befooling: 'Yesterday, O judge! when I was asleep near the well, I was awakened by a great noise, as of some mighty rock being hurled down into the water below. In my amazement I ran to the well and looked into it, but the water was quite clear and I could see nothing amiss; so I turned to go back to the house, when the same noise again met my ears. I am now quite sure in my mind that my master, when trying to draw some water up out of the well, fell down into it. Now, that the truth of the matter may be laid bare, I make petition that all now present may go to the spot; then I will descend into the well and disclose what I may find therein.' The judge was favorable to Fortunio's prayer, holding that experiment is the surest proof, and that no evidence can equal what is brought before one's eyes, and betook himself to the well, bidding the whole assembly follow. There went not only the worshipful persons who were about the judge, but also a vast crowd of the common people, who were curious to learn what might be the issue of the affair. Fortunio, obeying the commandment of the judge, went straightway down the well, and, when he had reached the bottom, made believe to be searching for his master's body in the water; but what he found was the carcass of the old ram which he himself had lately cast in. Feigning to be vastly amazed at this, the cunning fellow bawled up from the bottom of the well, 'O my mistress! Tell me whether your husband, my poor master, had horns or not; for I have alighted on somebody down here who has got an enormous pair, both long and large. Is it possible that he can be your husband?' And when the good wife heard Fortunio's question she was so much overcome with shame that she could not find a word to say for herself. Meanwhile the bystanders waited, open-mouthed with curiosity, to set eyes on this corpse with horns, and to see whether it really was the body of the missing grocer or not; and when they saw hauled up Fortunio's old ram, they all clapped their hands, and were shaken by loud laughter. The judge, when he saw the issue of Fortunio's search, deemed that the foolish fellow was acting in good faith, and that he verily believed what he brought out of the well to be the remains of his master. On this account the judge let him go free, as innocent, but the grocer was never seen more, and the good wife, to her dying day, bore the shame anent the horns which Fortunio's cunning trick had cast upon her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,Giufà and the Judge,Italy,NA,NA,"One day Giufà went out to gather herbs, and it was night before he returned. On his way back the moon rose through the clouds, and Giufà sat down on a stone and watched the moon appear and disappear behind the clouds, and he exclaimed constantly, 'It appears, it appears! It sets, it sets!' Now there were near the way some thieves who were skinning a calf which they had stolen, and when they heard, 'It appears, it sets!' they feared that the officers of justice were coming, so they ran away and left the meat. When Giufà saw the thieves running away, he went to see what it was and found the calf skinned. He took his knife and cut off flesh enough to fill his sack and went home. When he arrived there his mother asked him why he came so late. He said it was because he was bringing some meat which she was to sell the next day, and the money was to be kept for him. The next day his mother sent him into the country and sold the meat. In the evening Giufà returned and asked his mother, 'Did you sell the meat?' 'Yes, I sold it to the flies on credit.' 'When will they give you the money?' 'When they get it.' A week passed, and the flies brought no money, so Giufà went to the judge and said to him, 'Sir, I want justice. I sold the flies meat on credit, and they have not come to pay me.' The judge said, 'I pronounce this sentence on them: Wherever you see them, you may kill them.' Just then a fly lighted on the judge's nose, and Giufà dealt it such a blow that he broke the judge's head.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,"Permission Granted, but Probably Regreted",Switzerland,NA,NA,"A peasant left a jug of milk with a neighbor for safekeeping. When he reclaimed the jug, the milk had disappeared. Angry words led to a lawsuit, and the judge decreed that the neighbor should pay for the milk, even though the latter claimed that the flies had consumed it. 'You should have struck them dead,' said the judge. 'What?' replied the peasant, 'You grant me permission to kill flies?' 'Yes indeed,' responded the judge. 'You have my permission to kill them anywhere you find them.' In that moment the peasant saw a fly on the judge's cheek. He stepped up to him and gave him a slap, saying, 'I bet that cursed fly is one of those who drank up the milk!' Because of the permission he had granted the peasant, the judge could do nothing about the slap.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Bald Man and the Fly,Aesop,NA,NA,"But the fly escaped, and said to him in derision, 'You tried to kill me for just one little bite; what will you do to yourself now, for the heavy smack you have just given yourself?' 'Oh, for that blow I bear no grudge,' he replied, 'for I never intended myself any harm; but as for you, you contemptible insect, who live by sucking human blood, I'd have borne a good deal more than that for the satisfaction of dashing the life out of you!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Bear and the Amateur of Gardening,Jean de La Fontaine,NA,NA,"A certain mountain bruin once, they say, Was wont within a lonely wood to stray, A new Bellerophon secluded there, His mind had gone, and left his brain-pan bare. Reason on lonely people sheds no ray. It's good to speak -- better to silent stay: Both in excess are bad. No animal Was ever seen, or was within a call. Bear though he was, he wearied of this life, And longed for the world's joy and the world's strife. Then 'Melancholy marked him for her own.' Not far from him an old man lived alone. Dull as the bear, he loved his garden well; Was priest of Flora and Pomona; still, Though the employment's pleasant, a kind friend Is needfull, its full charms to it to lend. Gardens talk little, save in my small book. Weary at last of their mere smiling look, And those his dumb companions, one fine day, Our man set forth upon his lonely way, To seek a friend. The bear, with the same thought, Had left his mountain, satisfied with naught. By chance most strange the two adventurers meet At the same turning. He's afraid to greet The bear; but fly he can't. What can he do? Well, like a Gascon, he gets neatly through: Conceals his fright. The bear is not well bred; 'Here is my cottage; pray come in, my lord;' Still growls, 'Come see me!' but the other said, 'Do me the honor at my frugal board To lunch al fresco. I have milk and fruit, That will, perhaps, your worship's pleasure suit For once, though not your ordinary fare. I offer all I have.' With friendly air They're chums already before reaching home; Still better friends when there they've fairly come. In my opinion it's a golden rule: Better be lonely than be with a fool. The bear, who did not speak two words a day, Left the drudge there to work and toil away. Bruin went hunting, and brought in the game, Or flapped the blow-flies, when the blow-flies came; And kept from off his sleeping partner's face Of wingèd parasites the teasing race. One day a buzzer o'er the sleeping man Poised, and then settled on his nose -- their plan. The bear was crazy: all his chase was vain; 'I'll catch you, thief!' he cried. It came again. 'Twas said, 'twas done: The flapper seized a stone, And launched it bravely -- bravely it was thrown. He crushed the fly, but smashed the poor man's skull -- A sturdy thrower, but a reasoner dull. Nothing's so dangerous as a foolish friend; Worse than a real wise foe, you may depend.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Foolish Friend,The Panchatantra,NA,NA,"A king, while visiting his wives' apartments, took a monkey from a neighboring stable for a pet. He kept him constantly close at hand for his amusement, for as it is said, parrots, partridges, doves, rams, monkeys, and such creatures are a king's natural companions. It goes without saying that the monkey, fed on the various dishes that the king gave him, grew large and was given respect by all who surrounded the king. Indeed, the king, due to his love and exceeding trust of the monkey, even gave him a sword to carry. In the vicinity of the palace the king had a grove artfully planted with many trees of various sorts. Early in the springtime the king noticed how beautiful the grove was. Its blossoms exuded a magnificent fragrance, while swarms of bees sang praise to the god of love. Thus overcome by love, he entered the grove with his favorite wife. He ordered all his servants to wait for him at the entrance. After having pleasantly strolling through and observing the grove, he grew tired and said to his monkey, 'I want to sleep a little while in this arbor of flowers. Take care that nothing disturbs me!' Having said this, the king fell asleep. Presently a bee, pursuing the aroma of the flowers, betel, and musk, flew up and lit on his head. Seeing this, the monkey thought angrily, 'What is this? Am I to allow this common creature to bite the king before my very eyes?' With that he proceeded to drive it away. However, in spite of the monkey's defense, the bee approached the king again and again. Finally, blinded by anger, the monkey drew his sword and struck down the bee with a single blow. However, the same blow also split the king's head. The queen, who was sleeping next to the king jumped up in terror. Seeing the crime, she said, 'Oh, oh, you foolish monkey! What have you done to the king who placed such trust in you?' The monkey explained how it had happened, but thereafter he was shunned and scorned by everyone. Thus it is said, 'Do not choose a fool for a friend, for the king was killed by a monkey.' And I say, 'It is better to have a clever enemy than a foolish friend.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Gardener and the Bear,Bidpai,NA,NA,"In the eastern part of Persia there lived at one time a gardener whose one joy in life was his flowers and fruit trees. He had neither wife, nor children, nor friends; nothing except his garden. At length, however, the good man wearied of having no one to talk to. He decided to go out into the world and find a friend. Scarcely was he outside the garden before he came face to face with a bear, who, like the gardener, was looking for a companion. Immediately a great friendship sprang up between these two. The gardener invited the bear to come into his garden, and fed him on quinces and melons. In return for this kindness, when the gardener lay down to take his afternoon nap, the bear stood by and drove off the flies. One afternoon it happened that an unusually large fly alighted on the gardener's nose. The bear drove it off, but it only flew to the gardener's chin. Again the bear drove it away, but in a few moments it was back once more on the gardener's nose. The bear now was filled with rage. With no thought beyond that of punishing the fly, he seized a huge stone, and hurled it with such force at the gardener's nose that he killed not only the fly, but the sleeping gardener. It is better to have a wise enemy than a foolish friend.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Little Omelet,Italy,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a little woman who had a little room and a little hen. The hen laid an egg and the little woman took it and made a little omelet of it, and put it to cool in the window. Along came a fly and ate it up. Imagine what an omelet that must have been! The little woman went to the magistrate and told him her story. He gave her a club and told her to kill the fly with it wherever she saw it. At that moment a fly lighted on the magistrate's nose, and the woman, believing it to be the same fly, gave it a blow and broke the magistrate's nose.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Monkeys and the Dragonflies,Philippines,NA,NA,"While she was fanning herself with her wings, a monkey approached her, and said, 'Aha! What are you doing here, wretched creature?' 'O sir! I wish you would permit me to rest on this branch while the sun is so hot,' said the dragonfly softly. 'I have been flying all morning, and I am so hot and tired that I can go no farther,' she added. 'Indeed!' exclaimed the monkey in a mocking tone. 'We don't allow any weak creature such as you are to stay under our shelter. Go away!' he said angrily, and, taking a dry twig, he threw it at the poor creature. The dragonfly, being very quick, had flown away before the cruel monkey could hit her. She hurried to her brother the king, and told him what had happened. The king became very angry, and resolved to make war on the monkeys. So he dispatched three of his soldiers to the king of the monkeys with this challenge: Sir, As one of your subjects has treated my sister cruelly, I am resolved to kill you and your subjects with all speed. DRAGON The monkey king laughed at the challenge. He said to the messengers, 'Let your king and his soldiers come to the battlefield, and they will see how well my troops fight.' 'You don't mean what you say, cruel king,' answered the messengers. 'You should not judge before the fight is over.' 'What fools, what fools!' exclaimed the king of the monkeys. 'Go to your ruler and tell him my answer,' and he drove the poor little creatures away. When the king of the dragonflies received the reply, he immediately ordered his soldiers to go to the battlefield, but without anything to fight with. Meanwhile the monkeys came, each armed with a heavy stick. Then the monkey king shouted, 'Strike the flying creatures with your clubs!' When King Dragon heard this order, he commanded his soldiers to alight on the foreheads of their enemies. Then the monkeys began to strike at the dragonflies, which were on the foreheads of their companions. The dragonflies were very quick, and were not hurt at all; but the monkeys were all killed. Thus the light, quick-witted dragonflies won the victory over the strong but foolish monkeys. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Mosquito and the Carpenter,The Jataka Tales,NA,NA,"Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta gained his livelihood as a trader. In these days in a border village in Kasi there dwelt a number of carpenters. And it chanced that one of them, a bald gray-haired man, was planing away at some wood with his head glistening like a copper bowl, when a mosquito settled on his scalp and stung him with its dart like sting. Said the carpenter to his son, who was seated hard by, 'My boy, there's a mosquito stinging me on the head. Do drive it away.' 'Hold still then father,' said the son. 'One blow will settle it.' (At that very time the Bodhisatta had reached that village in the way of trade, and was sitting in the carpenter's shop.) 'Rid me of it!' cried the father. 'All right, father,' answered the son, who was behind the old man's back, and, raising a sharp ax on high with intent to kill only the mosquito, he cleft his father's head in two. So the old man fell dead on the spot. Thought the Bodhisatta, who had been an eye witness of the whole scene, 'Better than such a friend is an enemy with sense, whom fear of men's vengeance will deter from killing a man.' And he recited these lines: So saying, the Bodhisatta rose up and departed, passing away in after days to fare according to his deserts. And as for the carpenter, his body was burned by his kinsfolk.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Seven Crazy Fellows,Philippines,NA,NA,"One morning Felipe asked his friends to go fishing. They stayed at the Cagayan River a long time. About two o'clock in the afternoon Mateo said to his companions, 'We are hungry; let us go home!' 'Before we go,' said Juan, 'let us count ourselves, to see that we are all here!' He counted; but because he forgot to count himself, he found that they were only six, and said that one of them had been drowned. Thereupon they all dived into the river to look for their lost companion; and when they came out, Francisco counted to see if he had been found; but he, too, left himself out, so in they dived again. Jacinto said that they should not go home until they had found the one who was lost. While they were diving, an old man passed by. He asked the fools what they were diving for. They said that one of them had been drowned. 'How many were you at first?' said the old man. They said that they were seven. 'All right,' said the old man. 'Dive in, and I will count you.' They dived, and he found that they were seven. Since he had found their lost companion, he asked them to come with him. When they reached the old man's house, he selected Mateo and Francisco to look after his old wife; Eulalio he chose to be water carrier; Pedro, cook; Jacinto, wood carrier; and Juan and Felipe, his companions in hunting. When the next day came, the old man said that he was going hunting, and he told Juan and Felipe to bring along rice with them. In a little while they reached the mountains, and he told the two fools to cook the rice at ten o'clock. He then went up the mountain with his dogs to catch a deer. Now, his two companions, who had been left at the foot of the mountain, had never seen a deer. When Felipe saw a deer standing under a tree, he thought that the antlers of the deer were the branches of a small tree without leaves: so he hung his hat and bag of rice on them, but the deer immediately ran away. When the old man came back, he asked if the rice was ready. Felipe told him that he had hung his hat and the rice on a tree that ran away. The old man was angry, and said, 'That tree you saw was the antlers of a deer. We'll have to go home now, for we have nothing to eat.' Meanwhile the five crazy fellows who had been left at home were not idle. Eulalio went to get a pail of water. When he reached the well and saw his image in the water, he nodded, and the reflection nodded back at him. He did this over and over again; until finally, becoming tired, he jumped into the water, and was drowned. Jacinto was sent to gather small sticks, but he only destroyed the fence around the garden. Pedro cooked a chicken without removing the feathers. He also let the chicken burn until it was as black as coal. Mateo and Francisco tried to keep the flies off the face of their old mistress. They soon became tired, because the flies kept coming back; so they took big sticks to kill them with. When a fly lighted on the nose of the old woman, they struck at it so hard that they killed her. She died with seemingly a smile on her face. The two fools said to each other that the old woman was very much pleased that they had killed the fly. When the old man and his two companions reached home, the old man asked Pedro if there was any food to eat. Pedro said that it was in the pot. The old man looked in and saw the charred chicken and feathers. He was very angry at the cook. Then he went in to see his wife, and found her dead. He asked Mateo and Francisco what they had done to the old woman. They said that they had only been killing flies that tried to trouble her, and that she was very much pleased by their work. The next thing the crazy fellows had to do was to make a coffin for the dead woman; but they made it flat, and in such a way that there was nothing to prevent the corpse from falling off. The old man told them to carry the body to the church; but on their way they ran, and the body rolled off the flat coffin. They said to each other that running was a good thing, for it made their burden lighter. When the priest found that the corpse was missing, he told the six crazy fellows to go back and get the body. While they were walking toward the house, they saw an old woman picking up sticks by the roadside. 'Old woman, what are you doing here?' they said. 'The priest wants to see you.' While they were binding her, she cried out to her husband, 'Ah! here are some bad boys trying to take me to the church.' But her husband said that the crazy fellows were only trying to tease her. When they reached the church with this old woman, the priest, who was also crazy, performed the burial ceremony over her. She cried out that she was alive; but the priest answered that since he had her burial fee, he did not care whether she was alive or not. So they buried this old woman in the ground. When they were returning home, they saw the corpse that had fallen from the coffin on their way to the church. Francisco cried that it was the ghost of the old woman. Terribly frightened, they ran away in different directions, and became scattered all over Luzon.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Seven Wise Men of Buneyr,Pakistan,NA,NA,"Seven men of Buneyr once left their native wilds for the purpose of seeking their fortunes. When evening came they all sat down under a tree to rest, when one of them said, 'Let us count to see if we are all here.' So he counted, 'One, two, three, four, five, six,' but, quite omitting to reckon himself, he exclaimed, 'There's one of us missing, we are only six!' 'Nonsense!' cried the others, and the whole company of seven began counting with uplifted forefingers, but they all forgot to count themselves. Fearing some evil, they now rose up, and at once set out to search for their missing comrade. Presently they met a shepherd, who greeted them civilly and said, 'Friends, why are you in such low spirits?' 'We have lost one of our party,' answered they; 'we started this morning seven in number, and now we are only six. Have you seen any one of us hereabouts?' 'But,' said the shepherd, 'seven you are, for I have found your lost companion; behold: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven!' 'Ah,' answered the wise men of Buneyr, 'you have indeed found our missing brother. We owe you a debt of gratitude. Because you have done us this service, we insist on doing a month's free labor for you.' So the shepherd, overjoyed with his good fortune, took the men home with him. Now, the shepherd's mother was a very old woman, in her dotage, utterly feeble and unable to help herself. When the morning came he placed her under the care of one of the Buneyris, saying to him, 'You will stay here and take care of my old mother.' To another Buneyri he said, 'You take out my goats, graze them on the hills by day, and watch over them by night.' To the other five he said, 'As for you, I shall have work for you tomorrow.' The man who was left in charge of the old crippled mother found that his time was fully occupied in the constant endeavor to drive off the innumerable flies which in that hot season kept her in a state of continual excitement and irritation. When, however, he saw that all his efforts were fruitless, and that he flapped the wretches away in vain, he became desperate, and, lifting up a large stone, he aimed it deliberately at a certain fly which had settled on the woman's face. Hurling it with all his might, he of course missed the fly, but, alas! he knocked the woman prone on her back. When the shepherd saw this he wrung his hands in despair. 'Ah,' cried he, 'what has your stupidity done for me? The fly has escaped, but as for my poor old mother, you have killed her dead.' Meanwhile, the second Buneyri led his flock of goats up and down among the hills, and when midday came he rested to eat his bread, while many of the assembled goats lay down beside him. As he was eating he began to observe how the goats were chewing the cud and occasionally looking at him So he foolishly imagined that they were mocking him, and waxed wroth. 'So,' cried he, 'because I am taking my food, you must needs crowd round and make game of me, must you?' And, seizing his hatchet, he made a sudden rush at the poor animals, and he had already struck off the heads of several of them, when the shepherd came running to the spot, bemoaning his bad luck and crying to the fellow to desist from slaughter. That night was a sorrowful one for the trustful shepherd, and bitterly he repented his rashness. In the morning the remaining five wise men of Buneyr came to him, and said, 'It is now our turn. Give us some work to do, too!' 'No, no, my friends,' answered he; 'you have amply repaid me for the trifling favor I did for you in finding your missing companion; and now, for God's sake, go your way and let me see you no more.' Hearing these words, the wise men of Buneyr resumed their journey.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Stupid Boy,Sri Lanka,NA,NA,"The fly having gone flying away, settled again on her head. Saying ,'Now then, this fly is biting mother's head again,' he placed his mother's head gently on the ground. Then having gone and taken a rice pestle, and come back with it, he said, 'Is the fly still biting the head?' and struck at the fly with the rice pestle, killing his mother with the blow. The boy's father having come, tried to arouse her. 'How is it that mother is dead?' he asked. The boy said, 'A fly was biting our mother's head. I struck it with the rice pestle. Because of it she died.' So the Gamarala took the woman away and buried her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1586,The Tale of a Butter Tub,Iceland,NA,NA,"Once the carl and his old wife bought for themselves a barrel full of butter, which they intended to have for their household use during the winter, but now they were at a loss where to hide the barrel, that nobody should steal out of it. At last they agreed upon having it kept at the king's palace. They readily got the king to undertake the guarding of their tub, but its owner put it into its right place, and covered it as they thought fit. Now the autumn approached, and the old wife began to feel eager for some of the butter, and contrived at once a plan for getting her longing satisfied. One day, in fine weather, she was up early in the morning, and came in to her carl, saying she was called to the king's palace, to hold a child at baptism, wherefore she must go there. The carl said it was a matter of course. Now the old wife got ready in the greatest hurry and went to the king's palace. When she came there she said she should fetch a tiny slice of butter from the barrel. This everyone believed to be true, and she was let in to where the tub stood. Then the old woman took a great pat from the brim of the tub. After that she went home. Then asked the carl what had been the name of the child at the king's. The old woman answered, ' Brimmy is hight [named] the well-shaped girl.' When the old woman had finished what she had first taken of the butter, she said one morning to her husband, 'Eh! I am called yet once again to the king's.' 'Well, go then,' said the carl. The old woman went away, and said at the king's as formerly, that she should fetch butter from the barrel. And this time, the old dame took butter away down to the middle of the tub. When she came home, the carl asked what was the name of the child. She answered, 'Middle, is called the little girl.' When the old wife had finished this provision of butter, she said to the old man : ' Yet, once more, am I called to the king's, to hold a child at baptism.' 'Go then,' quoth the carl. The old wife went, and coming to the king's palace, said she came for butter. Now she took so much, that she could see the corner which the staves made with the bottom of the tub. When she came home, the carl asked her what was the name of the child. She answered. 'Logg [woodblock] is hight the ugly girl.' Now time passed till the old wife was, once more, in need of butter. Then she said to the old man, 'I am called for, once more, at the king's.' 'Go then,' said the old man. The old woman went, and said, as formerly, that she had come for butter. This time, she took all that was left in the barrel. When she came home, the carl asked what was the name of the child. 'Bottom is hight the stubby swain,' said the old woman. Time passed, till the later months of winter came on. Then the household provisions of the old man and woman began to be rather scarce. The old man said to his old wife, that it would be best to fetch the butter tub from the king's palace. To this, the old woman agreed. They came there and asked for their barrel. It was given to them, and they saw that the covering and everything about the barrel was quite in order. They rolled the barrel home, into the cottage. Now the carl opened the barrel, and lo! it was quite empty. He was rather startled at this, and asked his wife if she could tell the cause of it. She made believe to be no less astonished, and could find no reason for the trick they had been played. But, at the same moment, the old wife saw a big fly, which had got into the open barrel, and she said, 'Ah! There comes the wretched thief. Look here. This hateful fly has, doubtless, eaten all our butter from the tub.' This, the old man thought must be true, and ran off for the big hammer, with which he used to beat his dried fish, and would break the skull of the fly. He shut the door of the cottage, that the fly should not get out, and now chased the fly all over the place, knocking and beating at it, but never hitting save his own furniture and household chattels, which he broke to pieces. At last, the old man, being tired, sat down in fury and despair. But then the fly came and sat on his nose. Then the carl begged his wife to kill the fly, and said, 'Make haste, while it sits on the nose!' (which since has passed into a common saying). The old woman lifted up, with all her might, the hammer, and thumped it on the old man's nose, and broke his skull so well that he was dead on the spot; but the fly escaped with unbroken skull. It is unscathed yet. But the old woman is still wailing over her carl.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
750A,Loppi and Lappi,Estonia,Translated from Estonian into German by F. Löwe. Translated from,"Friedrich Kreutzwald, 'Loppi und Lappi,' Estnische Märchen, vol. 2 (Dorpat: Verlag von C. Mattiesen, 1881), no. 4, pp. 23-26.","Once a poor cottager lived with his wife in a lonely hut outside the village. The man's name was Loppi, and the woman's name was Lappi. It seems as though both of them had been born into misfortune, for nothing went well for them. In the earlier years of their marriage God had given them children, but none of them were still alive to support the parents in their old age. Every evening husband and wife sat next to the stove like two dried-up tree stumps, and often, for no reason at all, their bitterness spilled over, and they quarreled. As everyone knows, unfortunate people usually try to push their own guilt onto others, and even if they are not willfully evil, they blame others for their own bad luck. Thus Loppi often angrily said, 'If only I had had the good luck to marry a better woman, I would have lacked nothing. Today I could have been a wealthy man.' Lappi had an even quicker tongue, and for every one of her husband's words, she came back with a dozen of her own. 'Just look at you, you stupid lout! Of course it is partially my fault that in my child-like simplicity I did not know enough to choose a better husband, but there must have been witchcraft involved to make me turn to you. Only the devil knows what you secretly put into my food or drink. I had plenty of suitors, and if I had not settled for you, you miserable creature, today I could be a lady seated at a full table. It is your fault, you worthless man, that I'll be suffering from hunger and sorrow until I die. And it is also your fault that all our children have died, because you did not know how to take care of a wife and children.' This stream of words gushed forth, not ceasing until the husband stopped her mouth with his fist. One evening the couple were again quarrelling in their hut when a stately woman dressed in clothes of German cut stepped inside. Her appearance brought the wife's tongue to a standstill, and caused the husband to lower his raised arm. After a friendly greeting, the strange woman said, 'You are poor wretches and until now have suffered much. However, three days from now your misery will suddenly end. Therefore keep peace in your house, and decide what destiny you would best choose for yourselves. I am not a human, as I appear to you, but rather a higher being who, through God's power, can cause wishes to be fulfilled. You have three days' time for consideration, and then you may state three wishes that you desire. Say your wishes aloud, and in the same instant they will come true through magic power. But be careful not to wish for unnecessary things.' Following these words, the stately woman greeting them once again, then disappeared out the door in a flash. Loppi and Lappi, who had now forgotten their quarrel, stared speechlessly out the door through which the miraculous vision had entered and disappeared. Finally the husband said, 'Let's go to bed now. We have three days to think about this. We want to use these wishes wisely, so we can get the best luck for ourselves.' Although they had three days for consideration, they spent more than half the night burdened with thoughts of which wish would be the very best. Oh, what precious freedom ruled in the hut without interruption for the next three days! Loppi and Lappi had become different people. They spoke together friendlily, and looked after one another's needs. They spent the greatest part of each day sitting quietly in the corner thinking about what they should wish for. On the third day Loppi went into the village, where that morning a swine had been slaughtered, and the sausage kettle must just now be standing on the fire. He took with him the butter pot, with its lid, wanting to ask his neighbor's wife for sausage water to cook his cabbage in that evening. Loppi felt that they would be able to think better if their stomachs were filled with good food. Arriving home he put the cabbage on the fire so their meal would be ready at the right time. Evening arrived, and with it the time when they could make their wishes. The pot of cabbage soup was steaming on the table, and husband and wife sat down to eat. Now they could have their wishes fulfilled. They had already eaten several spoonfuls of the tasty soup when Lappi said, contentedly, 'Thanks be to God for this good soup. It will fill us up nicely, but it would taste even better if we only had a sausage to go with it!' Bang! A large sausage fell from above onto the middle of the table. For a while husband and wife were so startled that it did not occur to them to eat the sausage. Loppi remarked that with the sausage their first wish had been fulfilled, and that so angered him that he shouted, 'May the Evil One grab you and stick this sausage onto your nose! If....' But the poor man was too frightened to continue speaking, for the sausage was already hanging from Lappi's nose, not like a normal sausage, but like a piece of flesh growing out of the nose. What could they do now? Two wishes had already been wasted, and the second one had so misshapen the woman that she would not dare to be seen by other people. They still had one wish that had not been stated, and with this one they could set everything right. At this moment poor Lappi had no other desire than to free herself from the long sausage, so she said this wish aloud, and the sausage disappeared. Now all three wishes were gone, and Loppi and Lappi had to continue living poorly in their hut. For some time afterward they expected the beautiful woman to return, but the stranger never appeared again. Whoever fails to take immediate advantage of unexpected luck will lose it forever. Source: Friedrich Kreutzwald, 'Loppi und Lappi,' Estnische Märchen, vol. 2 (Dorpat: Verlag von C. Mattiesen, 1881), no. 4, pp. 23-26.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
750A,The Ridiculous Wishes,Charles Perrault,"Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 750A. The husband and wife, here called Harry and Fanny, are named Blaise and Fanchon in the original French story. Link to 'The Ridiculous Wishes' in the original French verse: Les souhaits ridicules. Link to Charles Perrault's Mother Goose Tales, information about Perrault and his famous collection Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye, including links to individual tales. Link to Les contes de Perrault. A French-language site featuring Perrault's tales, but not including 'The Ridiculous Wishes.'","Charles Perrault, The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault, (London: George G. Harrap and Company, 1922), pp. 129-36.","In days long past there lived a poor woodcutter who found life very hard. Indeed, it was his lot to toil for little guerdon, and although he was young and happily married there were moments when he wished himself dead and below ground. One day while at his work he was again lamenting his fate. 'Some men,' he said, 'have only to make known their desires, and straightway these are granted, and their every wish fulfilled; but it has availed me little to wish for ought, for the gods are deaf to the prayers of such as I.' As he spoke these words there was a great noise of thunder, and Jupiter appeared before him wielding his mighty thunderbolts. Our poor man was stricken with fear and threw himself on the ground. 'My lord,' he said, 'forget my foolish speech; heed not my wishes, but cease thy thundering!' 'Have no fear,' answered Jupiter; 'I have heard thy plaint, and have come hither to show thee how greatly thou dost wrong me. Hark! I, who am sovereign lord of this world, promise to grant in full the first three wishes which it will please thee to utter, whatever these may be. Consider well what things can bring thee joy and prosperity, and as thy happiness is at stake, be not over-hasty, but revolve the matter in thy mind.' Having thus spoken Jupiter withdrew himself and made his ascent to Olympus. As for our woodcutter, he blithely corded his faggot, and throwing it over his shoulder, made for his home. To one so light of heart the load also seemed light, and his thoughts were merry as he strode along. Many a wish came into his mind, but he was resolved to seek the advice of his wife, who was a young woman of good understanding. He had soon reached his cottage, and casting down his faggot: 'Behold me, Fanny,' he said. 'Make up the fire and spread the board, and let there be no stint. We are wealthy, Fanny, wealthy for evermore; we have only to wish for whatsoever we may desire.' Thereupon he told her the story of what had befallen that day. Fanny, whose mind was quick and active, immediately conceived many plans for the advancement of their fortune, but she approved her husband's resolve to act with prudence and circumspection. ''Twere a pity,' she said, 'to spoil our chances through impatience. We had best take counsel of the night, and wish no wishes until tomorrow.' 'That is well spoken,' answered Harry. 'Meanwhile fetch a bottle of our best, and we shall drink to our good fortune.' Fanny brought a bottle from the store behind the faggots, and our man enjoyed his ease, leaning back in his chair with his toes to the fire and his goblet in his hand. 'What fine glowing embers!' he said, 'and what a fine toasting fire! I wish we had a black pudding at hand.' Hardly had he spoken these words when his wife beheld, to her great astonishment, a long black pudding which, issuing from a corner of the hearth, came winding and wriggling towards her. She uttered a cry of fear, and then again exclaimed in dismay, when she perceived that this strange occurrence was due to the wish which her husband had so rashly and foolishly spoken. Turning upon him, in her anger and disappointment she called the poor man all the abusive names that she could think of. 'What!' she said to him, 'when you can call for a kingdom, for gold, pearls, rubies, diamonds, for princely garments and wealth untold, is this the time to set your mind upon black puddings!' 'Nay!' answered the man, ''twas a thoughtless speech, and a sad mistake; but I shall now be on my guard, and shall do better next time.' 'Who knows that you will?' returned his wife. 'Once a witless fool, always a witless fool!' and giving free rein to her vexation and ill-temper she continued to upbraid her husband until his anger also was stirred, and he had wellnigh made a second bid and wished himself a widower. 'Enough! woman,' he cried at last; 'put a check upon thy froward tongue! Who ever heard such impertinence as this! A plague on the shrew and on her pudding! Would to heaven it hung at the end of her nose!' No sooner had the husband given voice to these words than the wish was straightway granted, and the long coil of black pudding appeared grafted to the angry dame's nose. Our man paused when he beheld what he had wrought. Fanny was a comely young woman, and blest with good looks, and truth to tell, this new ornament did not set off her beauty. Yet it offered one advantage, that as it hung right before her mouth, it would thus effectively curb her speech. So, having now but one wish left, he had all but resolved to make good use of it without further delay, and, before any other mischance could befall, to wish himself a kingdom of his own. He was about to speak the word, when he was stayed by a sudden thought. 'It is true,' he said to himself, 'that there is none so great as a king, but what of the queen that must share his dignity? With what grace would she sit beside me on the throne with a yard of black pudding for a nose?' In this dilemma he resolved to put the case to Fanny, and to leave her to decide whether she would rather be a queen, with this most horrible appendage marring her good looks, or remain a peasant wife, but with her shapely nose relieved of this untoward addition. Fanny's mind was soon made up: Although she had dreamt of a crown and sceptre, yet a woman's first wish is always to please. To this great desire all else must yield, and Fanny would rather be fair in drugget than be a queen with an ugly face. Thus our woodcutter did not change his state, did not become a potentate, nor fill his purse with golden crowns. He was thankful enough to use his remaining wish to a more humble purpose, and forthwith relieved his wife of her encumbrance. souhaits ridicules. information about Perrault and his famous collection Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye, including links to individual tales. contes de Perrault. A French-language site featuring Perrault's tales, but not including 'The Ridiculous Wishes.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
750A,The Sausage,Sweden,Aarne-Thompson type 750A.,"Gabriel Djurklou, Fairy Tales from the Swedish , translated by H. L. Brækstad (Philadelphia and New York: J. B. Lippincott Company, 1901), pp. 27-32.","There was once an old woman, who was all alone one evening in her cottage, occupied with her household affairs. While she was waiting for her husband, who was away at work over in the forest, and while she was bustling about, a fine, grand lady came in, and so the woman began to curtsy and curtsy, for she had never seen such a grand person before. 'I should be so much obliged if you would lend me your brewing pan,' said the lady, 'for my daughter is going to be married, and I expect guests from all parts.' Oh, dear, yes! That she might have, said the woman, although she could not remember whether she had ever seen her before, and so she went to fetch the pan. The lady took it, and thanked the woman, saying that she would pay her well for the loan of it, and so she went her way. Two days afterwards the lady came back with it, and this time she also found the woman alone. 'Many thanks for the loan,' said the lady. 'and now in return you shall have three wishes.' And with this the lady left, and vanished so quickly that the old woman had not even time to ask her name or where she lived. But that did not matter, she thought, for now she had three wishes, and she began to think what she should wish for. She expected her husband back soon, and she thought it would be best to wait until he came home and could have a say in the matter. But the least they could wish for must be a fine big farm -- the best in the parish, and a box full of money, and just fancy how happy and comfortable they would be then, for they had worked so hard all their days! Ah, yes, then the neighbors would have something to wonder at, for you may guess how they would stare at all the fine things she would have. But since they were now so rich it was really a shame that there should be nothing but some blue, sour milk and some hard crusts of bread in the cupboard for her husband when he came home tired and weary, he who was fond of hot food. She had just been to her neighbor's and there she had seen a fine big sausage, which they were going to have for supper. 'Ah, deary me, I wish I had that sausage here!' sighed the old woman; and the next moment a big sausage lay on the table right before her. She was just going to put it in the pan when her husband came in. 'Father, father!' cried the woman, 'it's all over with our troubles and hard work now. I lent my brewing pan to a fine lady, and when she brought it back she promised we should have three wishes. And now you must help me to wish for something really good, for you're so clever at hitting upon the right thing -- and it's all true, for just look at the sausage, which I got the moment I wished for it!' 'What do you mean, you silly old woman?' shouted the husband, who became angry. 'Have you been wishing for such a paltry thing as a sausage, when you might have had anything you liked in the world? I wish the sausage were sticking to your nose, since you haven't any better sense.' All at once the woman gave a cry, for sure enough there was the sausage sticking to her nose; and she began tearing and pulling away at it, but the more she pulled the firmer it seemed to stick. She was not able to get it off. 'Oh, dear! oh, dear!' sobbed the woman. 'You don't seem to have any more sense than I, since you can wish me such ill luck. I only wanted something nice for you, and then -- , oh dear! oh, dear!' and the old woman went on crying and sobbing. The husband tried, of course, to help his wife to get rid of the sausage; but for all he pulled and tugged away at it he did not succeed, and he was nearly pulling his wife's head off her body. But they had one wish left, and what were they now to wish? Yes, what were they to wish? They might, of course, wish for something very fine and grand; but what could they do with all the finery in the world, as long as the mistress of the house had a long sausage sticking to the end of her nose? She would never be able to show herself anywhere! 'You wish for something,' said the woman in the midst of her crying. 'No, you wish,' said the husband, who also began crying when he saw the state his wife was in, and saw the terrible sausage hanging down her face. So he thought he would make the best use he could of the last wish, and said, 'I wish my wife was rid of that sausage.' And the next moment it was gone! They both became so glad that they jumped up and danced around the room in great glee -- for you must know that although a sausage may be ever so nice when you have it in your mouth, it is quite a different thing to have one sticking to your nose all your life.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
750A,The Three Wishes (England),England,"Jacobs' source: 'Sternberg's Folk-Lore of Northamptonshire, 1851, but entirely rewritten by Mr. Nutt, who has introduced from other variants one touch at the close -- viz., the readiness of the wife to allow her husband to remain disfigured.' Aarne-Thompson type 750A.","Joseph Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, n.d.), pp. 107-109. This collection was first published in 1894.","Once upon a time, and be sure 'twas a long time ago, there lived a poor woodman in a great forest, and every day of his life he went out to fell timber. So one day he started out, and the goodwife filled his wallet and slung his bottle on his back, that he might have meat and drink in the forest. He had marked out a huge old oak, which, thought he, would furnish many and many a good plank. And when he was come to it, he took his ax in his hand and swung it round his head as though he were minded to fell the tree at one stroke. But he hadn't given one blow, when what should he hear but the pitifullest entreating, and there stood before him a fairy who prayed and beseeched him to spare the tree. He was dazed, as you may fancy, with wonderment and affright, and he couldn't open his mouth to utter a word. But he found his tongue at last, and, 'Well,' said he, 'I'll e'en do as thou wishest.' 'You've done better for yourself than you know,' answered the fairy, 'and to show I'm not ungrateful, I'll grant you your next three wishes, be they what they may.' And therewith the fairy was no more to be seen, and the woodman slung his wallet over his shoulder and his bottle at his side, and off he started home. But the way was long, and the poor man was regularly dazed with the wonderful thing that had befallen him, and when he got home there was nothing in his noddle but the wish to sit down and rest. Maybe, too, 'twas a trick of the fairy's. Who can tell? Anyhow, down he sat by the blazing fire, and as he sat he waxed hungry, though it was a long way off suppertime yet. 'Hasn't thou naught for supper, dame?' said he to his wife. 'Nay, not for a couple of hours yet,' said she. 'Ah!' groaned the woodman, 'I wish I'd a good link of black pudding here before me.' No sooner had he said the word, when clatter, clatter, rustle, rustle, what should come down the chimney but a link of the finest black pudding the heart of man could wish for. If the woodman stared, the goodwife stared three times as much. 'What's all this?' says she. Then all the morning's work came back to the woodman, and he told his tale right out, from beginning to end, and as he told it the goodwife glowered and glowered, and when he had made an end of it she burst out, 'Thou bee'st but a fool, Jan, thou bee'st but a fool; and I wish the pudding were at thy nose, I do indeed.' And before you could say 'Jack Robinson,' there the goodman sat, and his nose was the longer for a noble link of black pudding. He gave a pull, but it stuck, and she gave a pull, but it stuck, and they both pulled till they had nigh pulled the nose off, but it stuck and stuck. 'What's to be done now?' said he. ''Tisn't so very unsightly,' said she, looking hard at him. Then the woodman saw that if he wished, he must need wish in a hurry; and wish he did, that the black pudding might come off his nose. Well! there it lay in a dish on the table, and if the goodman and goodwife didn't ride in a golden coach, or dress in silk and satin, why, they had at least as fine a black pudding for their supper as the heart of man could desire. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
750A,The Three Wishes (Nights),1001 Nights,"The full title of this story is 'The Three Wishes, or the Man who Longed to see the Night of Power.' Although I usually find Burton's translation style too florid for twentieth-century taste, his linguistic ornamentation seems to fit this tale, so I have let it stand. Aarne-Thompson type 750A.","The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated by Richard F. Burton (Privately printed, 1885), v. 6, pp. 180-181.","A certain man had longed all his life to look upon the Night of Power, and one night it befell that he gazed at the sky and saw the angels, and Heaven's gates thrown open; and he beheld all things prostrating themselves before their Lord, each in its several stead. So he said to his wife, 'Harkye, such an one, verily Allah hath shown me the Night of Power, and it hath been proclaimed to me, from the invisible world, that three prayers will be granted unto me; so I consult thee for counsel as to what shall I ask.' Quoth she, 'Oh man, the perfection of man and his delight is in his prickle; therefore do thou pray Allah to greaten thy yard and magnify it.' So he lifted up his hands to heaven and said, 'Oh Allah, greaten my yard and magnify it.' Hardly had he spoken when his tool became as big as a column and he could neither sit nor stand nor move about nor even stir from his stead; and when he would have carnally known his wife, she fled before him from place to place. So he said to her, 'Oh accursed woman, what is to be done? This is thy list, by reason of thy lust.' She replied, 'No, by Allah, I did not ask for this length and huge bulk, for which the gate of a street were too strait. Pray Heaven to make it less.' So he raised his eyes to Heaven and said, 'Oh Allah, rid me of this thing and deliver me therefrom.' And immediately his prickle disappeared altogether and he became clean smooth. When his wife saw this she said, 'I have no occasion for thee, now thou art become pegless as a eunuch, shaven and shorn.' And he answered her, saying, 'All this comes of thine ill-omened counsel and thine imbecile judgment. I had three prayers accepted of Allah, wherewith I might have gotten me my good, both in this world and in the next, and now two wishes are gone in pure waste, by thy lewd will, and there remaineth but one.' Quoth she, 'Pray Allah the Most High to restore thee thy yard as it was.' So he prayed to his Lord and his prickle was restored to its first estate. Thus the man lost his three wishes by the lack of wit in the woman.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
750A,The Two-Headed Weaver,The Panchatantra,Similar to Aarne-Thompson type 750A.,"Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 5, story 8 (v. 2, pp. 341-344).","In a certain place there lived a weaver by the name of Mantharaka, which means 'the simpleton.' One day, while weaving cloth, the wooden pieces on his loom broke. He took an ax, and set forth to find some wood. He found a large sissoo tree at the ocean's shore, and said aloud, 'Now this is a large tree. If I fell it, I will have wood enough for all my weaving tools.' Having thus thought it through, he raised his ax to begin cutting. However, a spirit lived in this tree, and he said, 'Listen! This tree is my home, and it must be spared in any event, because I like it here where my body can be stroked by the cool breezes that blow in from the ocean's waves.' The weaver said, 'Then what am I to do? If I don't find a good tree, then my family will starve. You will have to go somewhere else. I am going to cut it down.' The spirit answered, 'Listen, I am at your service. Ask whatever you would like, but spare this tree!' The weaver said, 'If that is what you want then I will go home and ask my friend and my wife, and when I return, you must give me what I ask for.' The spirit promised, and the weaver, beside himself with joy, returned home. Upon his arrival in his city he saw his friend, the barber, and said, 'Friend, I have gained control over a spirit. Tell me what I should demand from him!' The barber said, 'My dear friend, if that is so then you should demand a kingdom. You could be king, and I would be your prime minister, and we two would first enjoy the pleasures of this world and then those of the next one. For they say: A prince who piously gives to others, achieves fame in this world, and through these good deeds, he will arrive in heaven, equal to the gods themselves.' The weaver spoke, 'Friend, so be it! But let us also ask my wife.' The barber said, 'One should never ask women for advice. They also say: A wise man gives women food, clothing, jewelry, and above all the duties of marriage, but he never asks for their advice. And further: That house must perish where a woman, a gambler, or a child is listened to. And: A man will advance and be loved by worthy people as long as he does not secretly listen to women. Women think only of their own advantage, of their own desires. Even if they love only their own son, still, he will serve their wishes.' The weaver spoke, 'Even though this is true, she nonetheless must be asked, because she is subservient to her husband.' Having said this, he went quickly to his wife and said to her, 'Dear one, today I have gained control over a spirit who will grant me one wish. Hence I have come to ask for your advice. Tell me, what should I ask for? My friend the barber thinks that I should request a kingdom.' She answered, 'Oh, son of your excellence, what do barbers understand? You should never do what they say. After all, it is stated: A reasonable person will no sooner take advice from dancers, singers, the low born, barbers, or children, than from beggars. Furthermore, a king's life is an unending procession of annoyances. He must constantly worry about friendships, animosities, wars, servants, defense alliances, and duplicity. He never gets a moment's rest, because: Anyone who wants to rule must prepare his spirit for misfortune. The same container that is used for salve can also be used to pour out bad luck. Never envy the life of a king.' The weaver said, 'You are right. But what should I ask for?' She answered, 'You can now work on only one piece of cloth at a time. That is barely enough to pay for the necessities. You should ask for another pair of arms and a second head so that you can work on two pieces of cloth at once, one in front of you, and one behind you. We can sell the one for household necessities, and you can use the money from the second one for other things. You will thus gain the praise of your relatives, and you will make gains in both worlds.' After hearing this he spoke with joy, 'Good, you faithful wife! You have spoken well, and I will do what you say. That is my decision.' With that he went to the spirit and let his will be known, 'Listen, if you want to fulfill my wish, then give me another pair of arms and another head.' He had barely spoken before he was two-headed and four-armed. Rejoicing, he returned home, but the people there thought that he was a demon and beat him with sticks and stones, until he fell over dead. And that is why I say: He who cannot think for himself and will not follow the advice of friends, he will push himself into misfortune, just like the weaver Mantharaka. Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 5, story 8 (v. 2, pp. 341-344).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
750A,The Wishes,Hungary,NA,"W. Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, The Folk-Tales of the Magyars: Collected by Kriza, Erdély, Pap, and Others (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1889), pp. 217-19.","There were 10,000 wagons rolling along the turnpike road, in each wagon there were 10,000 casks, in each cask 10,000 bags, in each bag 10,000 poppy seeds, in each poppy seed 10,000 lightnings. May all these thunderous lightnings strike him who won't listen to my tale, which I have brought from beyond the Operencian Sea! There was once, it doesn't matter where: there was once upon a time, a poor man who had a pretty young wife; they were very fond of each other. The only thing they had to complain of was their poverty, as neither of them owned a farthing; it happened, therefore, sometimes, that they quarreled a little, and then they always cast it in each other's teeth that they hadn't got anything to bless themselves with. But still they loved each other. One evening the woman came home much earlier than her husband and went into the kitchen and lighted the fire, although she had nothing to cook. 'I think I can cook a little soup, at least, for my husband. It will be ready by the time he comes home.' But no sooner had she put the kettle over the fire, and a few logs of wood on the fire in order to make the water boil quicker, than her husband arrived home and took his seat by the side of her on the little bench. They warmed themselves by the fire, as it was late in the autumn and cold. In the neighboring village they had commenced the vintage on that very day. 'Do you know the news, wife?' inquired he. 'No, I don't. I've heard nothing. Tell me what it is.' 'As I was coming from the squire's maize field, I saw in the dark, in the distance, a black spot on the road. I couldn't make out what it was, so I went nearer, and lo! do you know what it was? -- A beautiful little golden carriage, with a pretty little woman inside, and four fine black dogs harnessed to it.' 'You're joking,' interrupted the wife. 'I'm not, indeed, it's perfectly true. You know how muddy the roads about here are; it happened that the dogs stuck fast with the carriage and they couldn't move from the spot; the little woman didn't care to get out into the mud, as she was afraid of soiling her golden dress. At first, when I found out what it was, I had a good mind to run away, as I took her for an evil spirit, but she called out after me and implored me to help her out of the mud; she promised that no harm should come to me, but on the contrary she would reward me. So I thought that it would be a good thing for us if she could help us in our poverty; and with my assistance the dogs dragged her carriage out of the mud. The woman asked me whether I was married. I told her I was. And she asked me if I was rich. I replied, not at all; I didn't think, I said, that there were two people in our village who were poorer than we. 'That can be remedied,' replied she. 'I will fulfill three wishes that your wife may propose.' And she left as suddenly as if dragons had kidnapped her. She was a fairy.' 'Well, she made a regular fool of you!' 'That remains to be seen. You must try and wish something, my dear wife.' Thereupon the woman without much thought said, 'Well, I should like to have some sausage, and we could cook it beautifully on this nice fire.' No sooner were the words uttered than a frying pan came down the chimney, and in it a sausage of such length that it was long enough to fence in the whole garden. ''This is grand!' they both exclaimed together. 'But we must be a little more clever with our next two wishes; how well we shall be off! I will at once buy two heifers and two horses, as well as a sucking pig,' said the husband. Whereupon he took his pipe from his hatband, took out his tobacco pouch, and filled his pipe; then he tried to light it with a hot cinder, but was so awkward about it that he upset the frying pan with the sausage in it. 'Good heavens! The sausage! What on earth are you doing! I wish that sausage would grow on to your nose,' exclaimed the frightened woman, and tried to snatch the same out of the fire, but it was too late, as it was already dangling from her husband's nose down to his toes. 'My Lord Creator help me!' shouted the woman. 'You see, you fool, what you've done, there! Now the second wish is gone,' said her husband. 'What can we do with this thing?' 'Can't we get it off?' said the woman. 'Take off the devil! Don't you see that it has quite grown to my nose. You can't take it off.' 'Then we must cut it off,' said she, 'as we can do nothing else.' 'I shan't permit it. How could I allow my body to be cut about? Not for all the treasures on earth. But do you know what we can do, love? There is yet one wish left. You'd better wish that the sausage go back to the pan, and so all will be right.' But the woman replied, ' How about the heifers and the horses, and how about the sucking pig? How shall we get those?' 'Well, I can't walk about with this ornament, and I'm sure you won't kiss me again with this sausage dangling from my nose.' And so they quarreled for a long time, till at last he succeeded in persuading his wife to wish that the sausage go back to the pan. And thus all three wishes were fulfilled; and yet they were as poor as ever. They, however, made a hearty meal of the sausage; and as they came to the conclusion that it was in consequence of their quarrelling that they had no heifers, nor horses, nor sucking pig, they agreed to live thenceforth in harmony together; and they quarreled no more after this. They got on much better in the world, and in time they acquired heifers, horses, and a sucking pig into the bargain, because they were industrious and thrifty. Others (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1889), pp. 217-19.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
750A,The Woodman's Three Wishes,England,Sternberg does not give this story a title.,"Thomas Sternberg, The Dialect and Folk-lore of Northamptonshire (London: John Russell Smith, 1851), pp. 135-36.","A woodman went to the forest to fell some timber. Just as he was applying the axe to the trunk of a huge old oak, out jumped a fairy, who beseeched him with the most supplicating gestures to spare the tree. Moved more by fright and astonishment than anything else, the man consented, and as a reward for his forbearance was promised the fulfillment of his three next wishes. Whether from natural forgetfulness, or fairy illusion, we know not, but certain it is, that long before evening all remembrance of his visitor had passed from his noddle. At night, when he and his dame were dozing before a blazing fire, the old fellow waxed hungry, and audibly wished for a link of hog's pudding. No sooner had the words escaped his lips than a rustling was heard in the chimney, and down came a bunch of the wished-for delicacies, depositing themselves at the feet of the astounded woodman, who, thus reminded of his morning visitor, began to communicate the particulars to his wife. 'Thou bist a fool, Jan,' said she, incensed at her husband's carelessness in neglecting to make the best of his good luck. ' I wish em wer atte noäse!' whereupon, the legend goes on to state, they immediately attached themselves to the member in question, and stuck so tight that the woodman, finding no amount of force would remove these unsightly appendages from his proboscis, was obliged, reluctantly, to wish them off, thus making the third wish, and at once ending his brilliant expectations. Dialect and Folk-lore of Northamptonshire (London: John Russell Smith, 1851), 135-36.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1288A,Johha Fails to Count the Donkey He Is Riding,Palestine,NA,"J. E. Hanauer, Folk-Lore of the Holy Land: Moslem, Christian, and Jewish (London: Duckworth and Compnay, 1907), pp. 84-85.","When Johha grew old enough to work for his living he became a donkey driver. One day, being in charge of twelve donkeys employed to carry earth to the city, it occurred to him, before starting with the laden animals, to count them. Finding the tale [tally] complete, he took them to their destination and unloaded them. He then mounted one of them, and was going to return when he found one donkey missing. At once dismounting, he put them all in a row, and was astonished and greatly relieved to find the twelve there. He thereupon remounted and set off again, wondering as he rode along how it was that he had missed one donkey. Suddenly the suspicion flashed upon him that possibly the second count had been faulty, so he counted again, to find once more that only eleven were racing along in front of him. Terribly disconcerted, he again got down off the creature he was riding and, stopping the others, once more counted them. He was puzzled to find that there were again twelve. So absorbed was he by this mystery, that he went on counting and recounting the donkeys till his master, surprised at his long absence, came and solved his difficulty by obliging him to follow his asses on foot.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1288A,The Hodja and His Eight Donkeys,Turkey,Link to additional tales about Nasreddin Hodja.,"Albert Wesselski, Der Hodscha Nasreddin, vol. 1 (Weimar: Alexander Duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 261, p. 152.","'The one you were sitting on brought the number to eight.' The Hodja answered, 'But how was I to see what I had on my behind?'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1288A,The Simpleton with Ten Asses,Turkey,NA,"Mâr Gregory John Bar-Hebraeus, Laughable Stories, translated by E. A. Wallis Budge (London: Luzac and Company, 1897), no. 569 (DLXIX), pp. 145-46.","A simpleton, who was a servant, had ten asses which he hired to certain people, and when they came back to their places he took his asses and counted them, and found them to be ten. Then he mounted one of them and rode some distance and came back, and as he was going away he counted those that were before him, and found them to be nine; and he was angry, and alighted and counted them over again, and found them to be ten. And he mounted an ass again, and counted the others and found them to be nine; thereupon he dismounted and counted them, and found them to be ten. Then he said, 'Verily there is a devil with me, for whenever I mount an ass I lose one of them; therefore I must not ride lest I lose one altogether.' Thus he traveled over the whole country on foot, for he dared not mount one of them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1287,How the Kadambawa Men Counted Themselves,Sri Lanka,Ceylon is the name given to Sri Lanka by the British East India Company. Retold by D. L. Ashliman. Parker's translation follows his Sinhalese sources so closely that English syntax is violated in almost every sentence. I have cautiously attempted to bring his narrative a little closer to idiomatic English.,"H. Parker, Village Folk-Tales of Ceylon, vol. 1 (London: Luzac and Company, 1910), no. 44, pp. 258-59.","Twelve Kadambawa men cut fence sticks, tied them into twelve bundles, then set them upright and leaned them together. Then one of the men said, 'Are our men all here? We must count and see.' So a man counted them, but he counted only eleven men, omitting himself. 'There are only eleven men, but there are twelve bundles of fence sticks,' he said. Then another man said, 'Maybe you have made a mistake,' and counted them again in the same way. 'There are eleven men and twelve bundles of fence sticks. There is a man missing,' they said, and they went into the jungle to look for him. While they were in the jungle looking, a man from another village heard them shouting. He came to them and asked why they were shouting. The men said, 'Twelve of our men came to cut fence sticks. There are twelve bundles of sticks but only eleven men. One man is missing.' This man saw that there were twelve men, so he said, 'Let each of you pick up your own bundle of fence sticks.' So each of the twelve men picked up his own bundle of sticks, and thus they all returned to their village. Company. Retold by D. L. Ashliman. Parker's translation follows his Sinhalese sentence. I have cautiously attempted to bring his narrative a little closer to idiomatic English.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1287,The Five Traveling Journeymen,Germany (Swabia),"Swabians are featured in many German anecdotes about fools. The above tale is from Swabia, but it does not identify the ethnicity of the characters.","Ernst Meier, 'Die fünf Handwerksburschen auf Reisen,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 68, pp. 242-43.","Five journeymen once left a particular place to travel together, and they promised one another that they would all stay together. After walking a good distance, one of them suddenly wondered if they were still all there, and so he asked his comrades. They all stood still, and one of them began counting, 'Here am I, one, two, three, four!' 'Gracious! How concerned they were when one of them turned up missing!' One after the other each one counted, and the result was always four, because everyone missed himself. Then a stranger came by and asked what the trouble was. They told him and asked if he could help. The man told them all to press their noses into the mud and then count the holes. This they did, and when they saw that five noses were there, they knew that they had not lost one of their comrades, and they happily continued their journey. (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 68, pp. 242-43. tale is from Swabia, but it does not identify the ethnicity of the characters.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1287,The Lost Peasant,Kashmir,"Knowles' source: Pandit Ánand Kol, Zaina Kadal, Srinagar. This tale is the second episode in a group of six stories collectively titled 'The Stupid Peasant.'","J. Hinton Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir, 2nd ed. (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Company, 1893), pp. 322-23.","Ten peasants were standing on the side of the road weeping. They thought that one of their number had been lost on the way, as each man had counted the company and found them nine only. 'Ho, you! What is the matter?' asked a townsman passing by. 'Oh, sir,' said the peasants, 'we were ten men when we left the village, but now we are only nine.' The townsman saw at a glance what fools they were. Each of them had omitted to count himself in the number. He therefore told them to take off their topís [skull caps] and place them on the ground. This they did, and counted ten of them, whereupon they supposed they were all there, and were comforted. But they could not tell how it was.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1287,The Seven Wise Men of Buneyr,Pakistan,This tale continues with addtional episodes further demonstrating the foolishness of the men of Buneyr. Buneyr (also spelled Banêr) is a district in northwestern Pakistan.,"Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 74, p. 305.","Seven men of Buneyr once left their native wilds for the purpose of seeking their fortunes. When evening came they all sat down under a tree to rest, when one of them said, 'Let us count to see if we are all here.' So he counted, 'One, two, three, four, five, six,' but, quite omitting to reckon himself, he exclaimed, 'There's one of us missing. We are only six!' 'Nonsense!' cried the others, and the whole company of seven began counting with uplifted forefingers, but they all forgot to count themselves. Fearing some evil, they now rose up, and at once set out to search for their missing comrade. Presently they met a shepherd, who greeted them civilly and said, 'Friends, why are you in such low spirits?' 'We have lost one of our party,' answered they; 'we started this morning seven in number, and now we are only six. Have you seen any one of us hereabouts?' 'But,' said the shepherd, 'seven you are, for I have found your lost companion; behold: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven!' 'Ah,' answered the wise men of Buneyr, 'you have indeed found our missing brother. We owe you a debt of gratitude.' foolishness of the men of Buneyr.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1287,The Twelve Men of Gotham,England,"Gotham is a village in Nottinghamshire, England. The foolishness of the men of Gotham is legendary. The earliest known printed collection of their pranks is Merrie Tales of the Mad Men of Gotham, published in 1540, although by that date their pranks had been circulating in oral tradition for at least 100 years. According to some stories, there was method in the Gothamites' madness: They only feigned stupidity to avoid the costs that would have been entailed in hosting King John, who reigned from 1199 to 1216. When royal messengers witnessed their foolish pranks they chose another town for the king to stay in. Link to the Wikipedia article on Gotham, Nottinghamshire.","W. A. Clouston, The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (London: Elliot Stock, 1888), pp. 28-29.","On a certain day there were twelve men of Gotham that went to fish, and some stood on dry land; and in going home one said to the other, 'We have ventured wonderfully in wading. I pray God that none of us come home and be drowned.' 'Nay, marry,' said one to the other, 'let us see that; for there did twelve of us come out.' Then they counted themselves, and every one counted eleven. Said one to the other, 'There is one of us drowned.' They went back to the brook where they had been fishing, and sought up and down for him that was wanting, making great lamentation. A courtier, coming by, asked what it was they sought for, and why they were sorrowful. 'Oh,' said they, 'this day we went to fish in the brook; twelve of us came out together, and one is drowned.' Said the courtier, 'Count how many there be of you.' One of them said, 'Eleven,' and he did not count himself. 'Well,' said the courtier, 'what will you give me, and I will find the twelfth man?' 'Sir,' said they, 'all the money we have got.' 'Give me the money,' said the courtier, and began with the first, and gave him a stroke over the shoulders with his whip, which made him groan, saying, 'Here is one,' and so served them all, and they all groaned at the matter. When he came to the last, he paid him well, saying, 'Here is the twelfth man.' 'God's blessing on your heart,' said they, 'for thus finding our dear brother!' Gotham is a village in Nottinghamshire, England. The foolishness of the men of Gotham is legendary. The earliest known printed collection of their pranks is Merrie Tales of the Mad Men of Gotham, published in 1540, although by that date their pranks had been circulating in oral tradition for at least 100 years. According to some stories, there was method in the Gothamites' madness: They only feigned stupidity to avoid the costs that would have been entailed in hosting King John, who reigned from 1199 to 1216. When royal messengers witnessed their foolish pranks they chose another town for the king to stay in.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
756,Tannhäuser,Germany,"Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 756. Link to a copy of this legend in a single file: Tannhäuser. The historical Tannhäuser (ca. 1205-1267) was a knight, a poet, and a minstrel whose exploits as a crusader and as a lover are featured in numerous ballads and legends. Literary interpretations of his adventures include Richard Wagner's opera Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg (composed between 1842 and 1845). Urban IV served as Pope between 1261 and 1264.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Tannhäuser,' Deutsche Sagen (Berlin: in der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 170, pp. 246-47. In later editions this legend is given the number 171. A second volume of German legends followed in 1818.","Noble Tannhäuser, a German knight, had traveled through many lands. He even visited the beautiful women of the Mountain of Lady Venus, hoping to see what great miracles occurred there. After sojourning there for a while, with joy and contentment, his conscience finally directed him to return to the world, and he asked to take leave. Lady Venus, however, tempted him with whatever it might take to make him change his mind. She offered him one of her comrades for a wife, pointing out her red lips that never ceased smiling. Tannhäuser answered that he desired no woman other than the one he was now thinking of, nor did he want to burn forever in hell. He was not interested in the red lips. He did not want to stay here any longer, for to do so would destroy his life. Then the she-devil tried to lure him into her room, tempting him with love, but the noble night cursed her loudly, calling upon the Heavenly Virgin to help him escape. Filled with remorse, he set forth toward Rome in order to confess his sins to Pope Urban, and thus do penance to save his soul. However, after he confessed that he had remained an entire year with Lady Venus in her mountain, the Pope said: 'Not until leaves begin to grow on this dry stick that I am holding in my hand, will your sins will be forgiven!' Tannhäuser said: 'Had I but had only one more year to live, I would have shown remorse and done penance such that God would have taken mercy on me.' Grieving that the Pope had cursed him, he left the city and returned to the demonic mountain, intending to stay there forever and ever. Lady Venus welcomed him as one welcomes a long absent lover. Three days later leaves began to grow on the stick, and the Pope sent messengers throughout the country, attempting to discover where Tannhäuser had gone. But it was too late. He was inside the mountain and had chosen a lover. There he will remain until Judgment Day, at which time God may send him to a different place. And a priest should never discourage a sinner but should forgive all who present themselves with remorse and penance. In later editions this legend is given the number 171. A second volume of German legends followed in 1818. The historical Tannhäuser (ca. 1205-1267) was a knight, a poet, and a minstrel whose exploits as a crusader and as a lover are featured in numerous ballads and legends. Literary interpretations of his adventures include Richard Wagner's opera Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg (composed between 1842 and 1845).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
756,The Woman Who Had No Shadow,Scandinavia,"The opera Die Frau ohne Schatten (1919), with text by Hugo von Hofmannsthal and music by Richard Strauss is related to this folktale. Link to another group of folktales about heroes who lose their shadows because of sinister relationships: The Black School. Link to the German-language text of a literary fairy tale by Adelbert von Chamisso (1781-1838) about a man who trades his shadow to the devil for a purse that will never run out of money: Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 755.","Retold from Scandinavian sources, including: Sven Grundtvig, 'Præstekonen,' Gamle danske Minder, Viser, Sagn og Æventyr m.m., levende i Folkemunde (Copenhagen: C. G. Iversens Forlagshandel, 1861), no. 6, pp. 19-22.","Once there was a pastor's wife who was afraid to have children. Other women are concerned when they have no children, but she was constantly afraid that she could have children. One day she went to a wise woman, a wicked witch, and asked her what to do to avoid having children. The wise woman gave her seven stones and told her if she would throw them into the well she would be spared from having children. The pastor's wife threw the stones into the well. As each stone splashed below, she thought that she heard the cry of a child, but still she felt a great sense of relief. Some time later the pastor and his wife were walking across the churchyard by the light of a full moon, when the pastor suddenly noticed that his wife did not have a shadow. This frightened him, and he asked her for an explanation, stating that she must have committed a dreadful sin, a sin that she would have to confess to him. He continued to press her for a confession, until finally she admitted what she had done. Upon hearing her story, he angrily proclaimed, 'Cursed woman! Flowers will grow from our slate roof before God forgives you of this sinful deed!' With that he sent her away, telling her to never again step across his threshold. One night, many years later, a wretched and tattered beggar woman approached the parsonage and asked for shelter. The housekeeper gave the poor woman a bit to eat and made a bed for her next to the kitchen stove. The next morning the pastor found the beggar woman dead on the kitchen floor. In spite of her rags, he recognized her immediately as the woman he had cursed and disowned. As he stood there contemplating her lifeless, but serene face, his housekeeper burst into the room. 'Pastor!' she exclaimed. 'Come outside! A miracle has happened during the night!' The pastor followed her outside and saw that his slate roof was covered with blossoming flowers. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,A Fox and a Cat,"Aesop (L'Estrange, 1692)",NA,"Roger L'Estrange Fables of Æsop and other Eminent Mythologists, with Morals and Reflexions (London: Printed for R. Sare, T. Sawbridge, B. Took, M. Gillyflower, A. and J. Churchil, and J. Hindmarsh; 1692), no. 374, p. 346.","There was a question started betwixt a fox and a cat, which of the two could make the best shift in the world, if they were put to a pinch. 'For my own part,' says Reynard, 'when the worst comes to the worst, I have a whole budget of tricks to come off with at last.' At that very instant, up comes a pack of dogs full-cry toward them. The cat presently takes a tree, and sees the poor fox torn to pieces upon the very spot. 'Well,' says Puss to herself, 'one sure trick, I find, is better than a hundred slippery ones.' The Moral: Nature has provided better for us, than we could have done for ourselves.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,Can You Swim?,England,"The boatman in this anecdote is sometimes identified as Nasreddin Hodja, the Turkish trickster.","Henry Woodcock, The Hero of the Humber; or, The History of the Late Mr. John Ellerthorpe, 2nd edition (London: S. W. Partridge, 1880), p. 32.","I [John Ellerthorpe] once heard of a professor who was being ferried across a river by a boatman, who was no scholar. So the professor said, 'Can you write, my man?' 'No, sir,' said the boatmam. 'Then you have lost one third of your life,' said the professor. 'Can you read?' again asked he of the boatman. 'No,' replied the latter, 'I can't read.' 'Then you have lost the half of your life,' said the professor. Now came the boatman's turn. 'Can you swim?' said the boatman to the professor. 'No,' was his reply. 'Then,' said the boatman, 'you have lost the whole of your life, for the boat is sinking and you'll be drowned.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Bear as Judge,Finland,NA,"Emmy Schreck, 'Der Bär als Richter,' Finnische Märchen (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1887), pp. 231-32.","A dispute arose among a number of animals, namely the wolf, the fox, the cat, and the hare. Unable to settle matters by themselves, they summoned the bear to act as judge. The bear asked the disputants, 'What are you quarreling about?' 'We are arguing about the question as to how many ways each of us has to save his life in time of danger,' they answered. The bear first asked the wolf, 'Now, how many ways do you have to escape?' 'A hundred,' was the answer. 'And you?' he asked the fox. 'A thousand,' he answered. Then the bear asked the hare, 'How many do you know?' 'I have only my fast legs,' was the answer. Finally the bear asked the cat, 'How many ways to escape do you know?' 'Only one,' answered the cat. Then the bear decided to put them all to the test in order to see how each one would save himself in time of danger. He suddenly threw himself at the wolf and crushed him half to death. Seeing what had happened to the wolf, the fox started to run away, but the bear grabbed him by the tip of his tail, and even to this day the fox has a white spot on his tail. The hare, with his fast legs, escaped by running away. The cat climbed a tree, and from his high perch sang down, 'The one who knows a hundred ways was captured; the one who knows a thousand ways was injured; Longlegs must run on forever; and the one who has only one way to escape sits high in a tree and holds his own.' So it is.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Cat and Fox,Jean de La Fontaine,Link to the text in the original French: Le Chat et le Renard.,"Jean de La Fontaine (1621-1695), The Fables of La Fontaine, translated mainly by R. Thomson (London: J. C. Nimmo and Bain, 1884), book 9, fable 14, pp. 215-16.","The cat and fox, each like a little saint, On pious pilgrimage together went; Two real Tartufes, two Patelins, birds of prey, Soft-footed rogues, who paid or cleared the way, Picking the bones of poultry, stealing cheese, Rivalling each other. They the road to ease, For it was tedious and long, Oft shortened by contentions sharp and strong. Dispute's a very happy source; Without it restless souls would sleep of course. Our pilgrims with it made each other hoarse, Quarrelled their fill, then dirt on neighbours cast. Reynard said to the cat at last: 'Pretender, are you bettor skilled than I, Who could with tricks a hundred cats supply?' 'No,' said the cat, 'I only boast of one, But that's worth any thousand known.' Ready again their quarrel to begin, With 'Yes' and 'No,' through thick and thin, The pack alarmed them, silencing their din. 'Friend,' cried the cat, 'now search your cunning brain, Examine all your tricks, and search again For some sure plan -- mine's ready, do you see?' He said, and quick sprang up a lofty tree. Sly Reynard played a hundred pranks in vain, Entered a hundred holes -- escaped assault, Put Finder and his brothers in default; He sought asylum all around, But he nowhere asylum found. They watched the burrow where he hid so sly, And smoked him out -- two terriers were nigh, Who worried him as he went bounding by. Avoid too many schemes; there ruin lies; For while we choose, the happy moment flies. Have but one plan, and let that plan be wise. 14, pp. 215-16.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Crow and the Swan,The Mahabharata,NA,"The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa (Calcutta: Bharata Press, 1889), pp. 141-45.","There lived on the other side of the ocean a Vaicya (commoner) who had an abundance of wealth and corn. He performed sacrifices, made liberal gifts, was peaceful, devoted to the duties of his own order, and pure in habits and mind. He had many sons whom he loved, and was kind unto all creatures. He lived fearlessly in the dominions of a king that was guided by virtue. There was a crow that lived on the refuse of the dishes set before those well-behaved young children of the Vaicya. Those Vaicya children always gave the crow meat and curds, and milk, and sugared milk with rice, and honey, and butter. Thus fed with the refuse of their dishes by the young children of that Vaicya, the crow became arrogant and came to disregard all birds that were equal to him or even superior. It chanced that on a time certain swans of cheerful hearts, of great speed and capable of going everywhere at will and equal unto Garuda himself in range and speed of flight, came to that side of the ocean. The Vaicya boys, beholding those swans, addressed the crow and said, 'O ranger of the skies, thou art superior to all winged creatures!' Deceived by those children of little understanding, that oviparous creature, from folly and pride, regarded their words to be true. Proud of the refuse of the children's dishes upon which he fed, the crow then, alighting in the midst of those swans capable of traversing great distances, desired to enquire as to who amongst them was their leader. The foolish crow at last challenged him amongst those birds of tireless wings whom he regarded their leader, saying, 'Let us compete in flight!' Hearing those words of the raving crow, the swans that had been assembled there, those foremost of birds endued with great strength, began to laugh. The swans then, that were capable of going everywhere at will, addressed the crow, saying, 'We are swans, having our abode in the Manasa lake. We traverse the whole earth, and amongst winged creatures we are always applauded for the length of the distances we traverse! Being, as thou art, only a crow, how canst thou, O fool, challenge a swan endued with might, capable of going everywhere at will, and doing large distances in course of his flight? Tell us, O crow, how thou shalt fly with us!' The boastful crow, in consequence of the foolishness of his species, repeatedly finding fault with the words of that swan, at last gave this answer. The crow said, 'I shall, without doubt, fly, displaying a hundred and one different kinds of motion! Doing every hundred Yojanas in a separate and beautiful kind of motion, I shall display all those motions! Rising up, and swooping down, and whirling around, and coursing straight, and proceeding gently, and advancing steadily, and performing the diverse courses up and down in a slanting direction, and floating still, and wheeling around, and receding back, and soaring high, and darting forward, and soaring upwards with fiercer velocity, and once more proceeding gently and then proceeding with great impetuosity, and once again swooping down and whirling around, and advancing steadily, and rising up and up by jerks, and soaring straight, and once more falling down, and wheeling in a circle, and rushing proudly, and diverse other kinds of motion, -- these all I shall display in the sight of all you! Ye shall then witness my strength! With one of these different kinds of motion I shall presently rise into the sky. Point out duly, ye swans, by which of these motions I shall course through space. Settling the kind of motion amongst yourselves, you will have to course with me. Adopting all those different motions, ye shall have to course with me through supportless space!' The crow having said these words, one of the swans addressed him. The swan spoke, 'Thou, O crow, wilt doubtless fly the hundred and one different kinds of flight! I shall, however, fly in that one kind of motion that all other birds know, for I do not, O crow, know any other! As regards thee, O thou of red eyes, fly thou in any kind of course that thou likest!' At these words, those crows that bad been assembled there laughed aloud, saying, 'How will the swan by only one kind of flight get the better of a hundred different kinds of flight?' Then those two, viz., the swan and the crow, rose into the sky, challenging each other. Capable of going everywhere at will, the swan proceeded in one kind of motion, while the crow coursed in a hundred different kinds. And the swan flew and the crow also flew, causing each other to wonder at his skill and each speaking highly of his own achievements. Beholding the diverse kinds of flight at successive instants of time, the crows that were there were filled with great joy and began to caw more loudly. The swans also laughed in mockery, uttering many remarks disagreeable to the crows. And they began to soar and alight repeatedly, here and there. And they began to come down and rise up from tree-tops and the surface of the earth. And they uttered diverse cries indicative of their victory. The swan, however, with that one kind of slow motion with which he was familiar began to traverse the skies. For a moment, therefore, he seemed to yield to the crow. The crows, at this, disregarding the swans, said these words: 'That swan amongst you which has soared into the sky, is evidently yielding!' Hearing these words, the soaring swan flew westwards with great velocity to the ocean. Then fear entered the heart of the crow who became almost senseless at not seeing any island or trees whereon to perch when tired. And the crow thought within his heart as to where he should alight when tired, upon that vast expanse of water. The ocean, being as it is the abode of countless creatures, is irresistible. Dwelt in by hundreds of monsters, it is grander than space. Nothing can exceed it in depth! Men know that the waters of the ocean are as limitless as space. For the extent of its waters, what is a crow to it? The swan, having traversed a great distance in a moment, looked back at the crow, and, though capable, could not leave him behind. Having transgressed the crow, the swan cast his eyes on him and waited, thinking, 'Let the crow come up.' The crow then, exceedingly tired, came up to the swan. Beholding him succumbing, and about to sink, and desirous of rescuing him in remembrance of the practices of good folks, the swan addressed him in these words: 'Thou hadst repeatedly spoken of many kinds of flight while speaking on the subject! Thou wouldst not speak of this, thy present motion, because of its having been a mystery to us? What is the name of this kind of flight, O crow, that thou hast now adopted? Thou touchest the waters with thy wings and beak repeatedly. Which amongst those diverse kinds of flight is this, O crow, that thou art now practicing? Come, come, quickly, O crow, for I am waiting for thee!' Exceedingly afflicted, and touching the water with his wings and beak, the crow, beheld in that state by the swan, addressed the latter. Indeed, not seeing the limit of that watery expanse, and sinking down in fatigue, and exhausted with the effort of his flight, the crow said unto the swan, 'We are crows, we wander hither and thither, crying caw, caw! O swan, I seek thy protection, placing my life-breaths at thy hands! Oh, take me to the shores of the ocean!' Exceedingly afflicted, and touching the ocean with his wings and beak, the crow, very much fatigued, suddenly fell down. Beholding him fallen upon the waters of the ocean with a melancholy heart, the swan, addressing the crow who was on the point of death, said these words: 'Remember, O crow, what thou hadst said in praise of thyself! Thy words even were that thou wouldst course through the sky in a hundred and one different kinds of flight. Thou, therefore, that wouldst fly a hundred different kinds of flight, thou that art superior to me, alas, why then art thou tired and fallen down on the ocean?' Overcome with weakness, the crow then, casting his eyes upwards at the swan, and seeking to gratify him, replied, saying, 'Proud of the remains of others' dishes upon which I fed, I had, O swan, regarded myself as the equal of Garuda, and had disregarded all crows and many other birds! I now, however, seek thy protection and place my life-breaths at thy hands! Oh, take me to the shores of some island! If, O swan, I can, O lord, return in safety to my own country, I will never again disregard anybody! Oh, rescue me now from this calamity!' Him that said so and was so melancholy and weeping and deprived of his senses, him that was sinking in the ocean, uttering cries of caw, caw, him so drenched by the water and so disgusting to look at and trembling with fear, the swan, without a word, took up with his feet and slowly caused to ride on his back. Having caused the crow whose senses had deserted him to ride upon his back, the swan quickly returned to that island whence thy had both flown, challenging each other. Placing down that ranger of the sky on dry land and comforting him, the swan, fleet as the mind, proceeded to the region he desired. Thus was that crow, fed on the remains of others' dinners, vanquished by the swan. The crow, then, casting off the pride of might and energy, adopted a life of peace and quiet.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Fish That Were Too Clever,The Panchatantra,"India's most influential contribution to world literature, the Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.","Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen. Aus dem Sanskrit übersetzt mit Einleitung und Anmerkungen von Theodor Benfey, vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 5, story 6, pp. 337-38.","Two fish lived in a pond. Their names were Satabuddhi (having the understanding of a hundred) and Sahasrabuddhi (having the understanding of a thousand). The two of them had a frog for a friend, whose name was Ekabuddhi (having the understanding of one). For a time they would enjoy friendly conversation on the bank, and then they would return to the water. One day when they had gathered for conversation, some fishermen came by just as the sun was setting. They were carrying nets in their hands and many dead fish on their heads. When the fishermen saw the pond, they said to one another, 'There seem to be a lot of fish in this pond, and the water is very low. Let us come back here tomorrow morning!' After saying this, they went home. These words struck the three friends like a thunderbolt, and they took counsel with one another. The frog said, 'Oh, my dear Satabuddhi and Sahasrabuddhi, what shall we do? Should we flee, or stay here?' Hearing this, Sahasrabuddhi laughed and said, 'Oh, my friend, don't be afraid of words alone! They probably will not come back. But even if they do come back, I will be able to protect myself and you as well, through the power of my understanding, for I know many pathways through the water.' After hearing this, Satabuddhi said, 'Yes, what Sahasrabuddhi says is correct, for one rightly says: Where neither the wind nor the sun's rays have found a way, intelligent understanding will quickly make a path. And also: Everything on earth is subject to the understanding of those with intelligence. Why should one abandon the place of one's birth that has been passed down from generation to generation, just because of words? We must not retreat a single step! I will protect you through the power of my understanding.' The frog said, 'I have but one wit, and it is advising me to flee. This very day I shall go with my wife to another pond.' After saying this, as soon as it was night, the frog went to another pond. Early the next day the fishermen came like servants of the god of death and spread their nets over the pond. All the fish, turtles, frogs, crabs, and other water creatures were caught in the nets and captured, also Satabuddhi and Sahasrabuddhi, although they fled, and through their knowledge of the various paths escaped for a while by swimming to and fro. But they too, together with their wives, fell into a net and were killed. That afternoon the fishermen happily set forth toward home. Because of his weight, one of them carried Satabuddhi on his head. They tied Sahasrabuddhi onto a string and dragged him along behind. The frog Ekabuddhi, who had climbed onto the bank of his pond, said to his wife, 'Look, dear! Mr. Hundred-Wit lies on someone's head, and Mr. Thousand-Wit is hanging from a string. But Mr. Single-Wit, my dear, is playing here in the clear water.' Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen. Aus dem Sanskrit übersetzt mit Einleitung und Anmerkungen von Theodor Benfey, vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 5, story 6, pp. 337-38. Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Fox and His Bagful of Wits and the One-Witted Hedgehog,Romania,NA,"M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 111, pp. 322-23.","I do not know how he managed it, but a fox one day got into a poultry yard, and there he ate his fill. Some time afterwards, going along to the poultry yard, the hedgehog met him. 'Where are you going, brother?' 'I am going to eat my fill.' 'Surely you cannot get it just as you like.' 'Oh,' he said, 'you just come with me, and I will show you. I know my way, and there is plenty for me and for you, and some to leave behind for another time.' The hedgehog, who was a wise old fellow, said to the fox, 'Now, be careful. Are you sure that the owners of the poultry yard will let you in again so easily?' 'Don't you trouble,' said the fox. 'I know my business. You just come with me.' And the hedgehog went with him. But the people of the poultry yard were not such fools as the fox had taken them for, and just where the fox had got in last time they had dug a deep pit, and into that the fox and the hedgehog tumbled. When they found themselves at the bottom of the pit, the hedgehog turned to the fox and said, 'Well, you clever fellow, is that the proper way to get into the poultry yard? Did I not warn you?' 'What is the good of talking?' replied the fox. 'We are here now, and we must see how to get out of it.' 'But you are so clever, and I am only a poor old fool.' 'Never mind. You were always a wise one. Can you help me?' 'No,' he said. 'I cannot help you. This sudden fall has upset me, and I feel queer and sick.' 'What,' cried the fox. 'You are not going to be sick here. That is more than I can stand. Out you go!' So he got hold of the hedgehog by the snout, and the hedgehog coiled himself up with his little paws into a little ball round the fox's mouth. The fox lifted up his head with a jerk and threw the little fellow out of the pit. As soon as he saw himself safely out of the pit, the little hedgehog, bending over the mouth of the pit, said, chuckling to the fox, 'Where is your wisdom, you fool? You boast that you have a bagful of wits, whilst it is I who get myself out of the pit, though I have only a little wit.' 'Oh,' said the fox, whining, 'do have pity on me! You are such a clever old fellow. Help me out of it too.' 'Well, said the hedgehog, 'I will help you. Now, you pretend to be dead, and when the people come and find you stiff and stark, and a nasty smell about you, they will say, 'The fox has died, and his carcass is rotting. It is going to make all the poultry yard offensive.' They will take you and throw you out. And then see whither your way lies.' The fox did as the hedgehog had advised him, and when the people came and found him in that state, they hauled him out and threw him out of the yard onto the road. Quicker than you could clap your hands, the fox was on his legs, and he ran as if the ground was burning under him. Since then the fox and the hedgehog are good friends.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Fox and the Cat (Aesop),Aesop,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Æsop (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), pp. 91-92.","A fox was boasting to a cat of its clever devices for escaping its enemies. 'I have a whole bag of tricks,' he said, 'which contains a hundred ways of escaping my enemies.' 'I have only one,' said the cat. 'But I can generally manage with that.' Just at that moment they heard the cry of a pack of hounds coming towards them, and the cat immediately scampered up a tree and hid herself in the boughs. 'This is my plan,' said the cat. 'What are you going to do?' The fox thought first of one way, then of another, and while he was debating, the hounds came nearer and nearer, and at last the fox in his confusion was caught up by the hounds and soon killed by the huntsmen. Miss Puss, who had been looking on, said, 'Better one safe way than a hundred on which you cannot reckon.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Fox and the Cat (Grimm),Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,This fable was added to the Grimms' Kinder- und Hausmärchen with the second edition (1819). The Grimms' immediate source has not been identified precisely. Link to a separate file containing this tale alone: The Fox and the Cat by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.,"'Der Fuchs und die Katze,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), 7th ed., vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 75, p. 388.","It happened that the cat met Mr. Fox in the woods. She thought, 'He is intelligent and well experienced, and is highly regarded in the world,' so she spoke to him in a friendly manner, 'Good-day, my dear Mr. Fox. How is it going? How are you? How are you getting by in these hard times?' The fox, filled with arrogance, examined the cat from head to feet, and for a long time did not know whether he should give an answer. At last he said, 'Oh, you poor beard-licker, you speckled fool, you hungry mouse hunter, what are you thinking? Have you the nerve to ask how I am doing? What do you know? How many tricks do you understand?' 'I understand only one,' answered the cat, modestly. 'What kind of a trick is it?' asked the fox. 'When the dogs are chasing me, I can jump into a tree and save myself.' 'Is that all?' said the fox. 'I am master of a hundred tricks, and in addition to that I have a sackful of cunning. I feel sorry for you. Come with me, and I will teach you how one escapes from the dogs.' Just then a hunter came by with four dogs. The cat jumped nimbly up a tree, and sat down at its top, where the branches and foliage completely hid her. 'Untie your sack, Mr. Fox, untie your sack,' the cat shouted to him, but the dogs had already seized him, and were holding him fast. 'Oh, Mr. Fox,' shouted the cat. 'You and your hundred tricks are left in the lurch. If you had been able to climb like I can, you would not have lost your life.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Fox and the Hedgehog (Hahn),Greece,NA,"Johann Georg von Hahn, 'Die Füchsin und der Igel,' Griechische und albanesische Märchen, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1864), no. 91, pp. 103-104.","The hedgehog answered, 'No, I am afraid of the traps that they have set out there.' The fox said, 'Have no fear. You'll come to no harm, because I have three bags full of tricks.' So they went there together and ate until they were full, but just as they were leaving, the fox caught herself in an iron trap. She called out, 'Help me, Hedgehog! I'm caught in a trap.' He said, 'Empty the tricks out of your bag, so I can free you.' The fox said, 'I jumped over a ditch, and all my tricks fell out. Don't you know even one?' The hedgehog replied, 'I know two of them. The one is that when the farmer comes, just play dead; the other is that while you are playing dead you should let a mighty fart.' The fox did what the hedgehog had advised, and when the farmer came by, he thought that the fox was already stinky rotten and threw her out of the vineyard. Thus she escaped. Another time the fox again asked the hedgehog to go with her the vineyard and eat grapes. Because everything had worked out so well the first time, he went with her this time as well. After they had eaten until they were full and were about to leave, the hedgehog caught himself in a trap. He called out, 'Help me, Mistress Fox, I'm caught in a trap. Empty out your tricks and free me from the trap.' The fox replied, 'I jumped over a ditch again, and all my tricks fell out.' The hedgehog said, 'Since I am about to die, forgive me of my sins.' The fox said, 'If you will forgive me all of my sins against you, then I will ask God to forgive you of all your sins.' Then the hedgehog asked, 'Come closer and we'll hug one another, because we have lived together for such a long time.' The fox went to him, and they hugged one another. Then the hedgehog said, 'You should also kiss me on the mouth.' The fox did so, but the hedgehog grabbed hold of her tongue with his teeth and held her there until the farmer came by. When the farmer saw how the hedgehog had caught the fox he laughed, then he killed the fox and let the hedgehog run away.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Fox and the Hedgehog (Krauss),South Slavonic,"Gaster's source: F. S. Krauss, 'Fuchs und Igel,' Sagen und Märchen der Südslaven, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich, 1883), no. 13, pp. 44-45. Link to another version of this tale: Louise Seymour Houghton, 'The Fox and the Hedgehog,' The Russian Grandmother's Wonder Tales (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1913), pp. 73-76.","M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), pp. 323-24.","A fox meeting a hedgehog asked him, 'How many wits have you?' And he replied, 'Only three. But how many have you?' 'I,' boasted the fox,' have seventy-seven.' As they were talking and walking along, not noticing where they were going, they fell into a deep hole which the peasants had dug. The fox asked the hedgehog to save him. The hedgehog said, 'I have only three wits. Perhaps you will save me first, then I will see about you afterwards,' and he asked the fox to pitch him out of the hole. The fox did so, and then asked the hedgehog whether he could help him. The hedgehog said, 'I cannot help you with three, if you cannot help yourself with seventy-seven.' And so the fox was caught in the morning by the peasants and killed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,The Seven-Witted Fox and the One-Witted Owl,Romania,NA,"M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 110, pp. 320-21.","One day the owl met a fox, and the latter bragged about his intelligence and cleverness, and said that he was very cunning and slim. The owl asked him, 'Brother mine, how many minds (wits) have you?' 'Seven,' he said, boastingly. 'No wonder you are so clever. I have only one,' said the owl. A short time afterwards the owl again met the fox, but this time he was running for his life. The hunters were after him, and the hounds were trying to catch him. Running as fast as his legs could carry him, he at last managed to slip into a hole. The owl followed him, and seeing him there, exhausted, asked him, 'How many minds (wits) have you?' And he replied, 'Six. I have lost one by the chase.' Meanwhile the hunters and dogs came nearer and nearer, so they could hear the baying of the dogs. The fox did not know what to do. The owl asked him, 'How many minds (wits) have you now, old fellow?' 'Oh, I have lost all my minds (wits). I have none left.' 'Where is your cunning of which you bragged?' 'It is not kind of you, now, to go for a poor fellow when the dogs are at his heels, and there is no escape for him.' 'Well,' said the owl, 'I have but one mind (wit), and I will see whether I cannot save you with my one wit. It is my turn. I am going to lie down here at the entrance as though dead. When the hunters come, they will see me and get hold of me and talk about me. Meanwhile they will forget you, and in the midst of the trouble, you just dash out and run for your life.' It happened just as the owl had said. No sooner did the hunters come up and find the owl than they said, 'What is this ugly bird doing here? And a dead one to boot.' And whilst they were busy with the owl, trying to get hold of it to throw it away, off went the fox through them and escaped. Soon afterwards the owl met him again, and she said, 'How have your seven minds (wits) helped you when in time of danger? It is like that with people who have too much. They often have nothing when they want it most, but you see, I had only one mind (wit), but a strong one and not a dissolute one like yours, and that saved both you and me.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
105,Two Losses,Georgia,"The skipper in this anecdote is sometimes identified as Nasreddin Hodja, the Turkish trickster.","Source, Marjory Wardrop, Georgian Folk Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 167-68.","During a great storm at sea, a learned man heard the skipper giving his orders, but could not understand a word. When the danger was past, he asked the skipper in what language he had spoken. The sailor replied: 'In my mother tongue, of course!' The scholar expressed his regret that a man should have wasted half his life without learning to speak grammatically and intelligibly. A few hours later the storm arose again, and this time the ship sprang a leak and began to founder. Then the captain went to the scholar and asked if he could swim. The man of books replied that he had never learned. 'I am sorry, sir, for you will lose your whole life. The ship will go to the bottom in a minute, and my crew and I shall swim ashore. You would have done well if you had spent a little of your time in learning to swim.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
63,The Fox and the Fleas,Scotland,NA,NA,"The fox is much troubled by fleas, and this is the way in which he gets rid of them. He hunts about until he finds a lock of wool, and then he takes it to the river, and holds it in his mouth, and so puts the end of his brush into the water, and down he goes slowly. The fleas run away from the water, and at last they all run over the fox's nose into the wool, and then the fox dips his nose under and lets the wool go off with the stream.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
63,The Jackal and the Flees,India,NA,NA,"Once upon a time a monkey noticed some wheat which had fallen into a small hollow in a rock. Thrusting in his hand, he filled it with the grain, but the entrance was so narrow that he was unable to draw it out without relinquishing most of his prize. This, however, he was unwilling to do, greedily desiring to have it all. So the consequence was that he remained without any, and finally went hungry away. Return to D. L. Ashliman's index of folklore and mythology electronic texts.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
15,Cat and Mouse in Partnership,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"The Grimms' source: Oral tradition, communicated by Gretchen Wild (1787-1819) in Kassel. This tale, in a shorter version, was included in the Grimms' manuscript collection of 1808 and in their first edition (1812), vol. 1, no. 2. I have arbitrarily assigned male gender to the cat. Its natural (as opposed to grammatical) gender cannot be determined by the German text. Link to a file containing only the Grimms' Cat and Mouse in Partnership.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Katze und Maus in Gesellschaft,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 7th edition, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 2, pp. 6-8.","A cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse, and had said so much to her about the great love and friendship that he felt for her, that at last the mouse agreed that they should live and keep house together. 'But we must make preparations for winter, or else we shall suffer from hunger,' said the cat, 'and you, little mouse, cannot venture out everywhere, or in the end you will be caught in a trap.' This good advice was followed, and they bought a pot of fat, but they did not know where to store it. Finally, after much consideration, the cat said, 'I know of no place where it will be better stored up than in the church. No one dares take anything away from there. We will put it beneath the altar, and not touch it until we are need it.' So the pot was stored safely away, but it was not long before the cat took a great longing for it, and said to the mouse, 'I wanted to tell you, little mouse, that my cousin has brought a little son into the world, and she has asked me to be his godfather. He is white with brown spots, and I am to hold him over the baptismal font. Let me go out today, and you look after the house by yourself.' 'Yes, yes,' answered the mouse. 'By all means go, and if you get anything good to eat, think of me. I would like to drink a drop of sweet red christening wine myself.' All this, however, was untrue. The cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to be godfather. He went straight to the church, crept up to the pot of fat, began to lick at it, and licked off the top of the fat. Then he went for a stroll on the roofs of the town, looked out for opportunities, and then stretched out in the sun, licking his whiskers whenever he thought of the pot of fat. He did not return home until it was evening. 'Well, here you are again,' said the mouse. 'You must have had a happy day.' 'Everything went well,' answered the cat. 'What name did they give the child?' asked the mouse. 'Top-Off,' said the cat quite coolly. 'Top-Off?' cried the mouse. 'That is a very odd and uncommon name. Is it a usual one in your family?' 'What does that matter?', said the cat. 'It is no worse than Crumb-Thief, as your godchildren are called.' Before long the cat was seized by another fit of longing. He said to the mouse, 'You must do me a favor, and once more manage the house alone for a day. I have been asked again to be godfather, and since the child has a white ring around its neck, I cannot refuse.' The good mouse consented. However, the cat crept behind the town wall to the church, and devoured half the pot of fat. 'Nothing tastes as good as that which one eats by oneself,' he said, and was quite satisfied with his day's work. When he arrived home the mouse asked, 'What name was this child christened with?' 'Half-Gone,' answered the cat. 'Half-Gone? What are you saying? I have never heard that name in all my life. I'll wager it is not in the almanac.' The cat's mouth soon again began to water for the delicious goods. 'All good things come in threes,' he said to the mouse. 'I have been asked to be godfather again. The child is totally black, only it has white paws. Otherwise it has not a single white hair on its whole body. This only happens once every few years. You will let me go, won't you?' 'Top-Off. Half-Gone,' answered the mouse. 'They are such odd names, that they make me stop and think.' 'Here you sit at home,' said the cat, 'with your dark gray fur coat and long braid of hair capturing fantasies. That is because you do not go out in the daytime.' During the cat's absence the mouse cleaned the house, and put it in order, but the greedy cat devoured all the rest of the fat. 'One has peace only after everything is eaten up,' he said to himself. Well filled and fat, he did not return home until nighttime. The mouse immediately asked what name had been given to the third child. 'You will not like it either,' said the cat. 'His name is All-Gone.' 'All-Gone!', cried the mouse. 'That is the most worrisome name of all. I have never seen it in print. All-Gone! What can that mean?' Then she shook her head, curled herself up, and lay down to sleep. From this time forth no one invited the cat to be godfather, but when winter had come and there was no longer anything to be found outside, the mouse thought of their stored food, and said, 'Come cat, we will go to our pot of fat which we have stored up for ourselves. It will taste good now.' 'Yes,' answered the cat. 'You will enjoy it as much as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue of yours out of the window.' They set out on their way, but when they arrived, the pot of fat, to be sure, was still in its place, but it was empty. 'Alas,' said the mouse, 'now I see what has happened. Now it comes to light. You are a true friend. You ate everything when you were serving as a godfather. First top off, then half done, then ...' 'Be quiet!' cried the cat. 'One more word, and I will eat you too.' 'All gone' was already on the poor mouse's lips. She had scarcely spoken it before the cat sprang on her, seized her, and swallowed her down. You see, that is the way of the world. (1787-1819) in Kassel. manuscript collection of 1808 and in their first edition (1812), vol. 1, no. 2. opposed to grammatical) gender cannot be determined by the German text.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
15,Mr. Rabbit Nibbles up the Butter,African-American,NA,"Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus; or, Mr. Fox, Mr. Rabbit, and Mr. Terrapin (London and New York: George Routledge and Sons, 1883), no. 17, pp. 82-88.","'The animals and the creatures,' said Uncle Remus, shaking his coffee around in the bottom of his tin cup, in order to gather up all the sugar, they just kept on getting more and more familiar with one another, until by and by it wasn't long before Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox and Brer Possum got to sort of bunching their provisions together in the same shanty. After a while the roof sort of began to leak, and one day Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox and Brer Possum assembled to see if they couldn't kind of patch it up. They had a big day's work in front of them, and they fetched their dinner with them. They lumped the vittles up in one pile, and the butter that Brer Fox brought, they went and put it in the spring-house to keep it cool, and then they went to work, and it wasn't long before Brer Rabbit's stomach began to sort of growl and pester him. Brer Fox's butter sat heavy on his mind, and his mouth watered every time he remembered it. Presently he said to himself that he would like to have a nip at the butter, and then he laid out his plans, he did. First thing you know, while they were working along, Brer Rabbit raised his head quickly and flung his ears forward, and hollered out, 'Here I am. What do you want with me?' and off he went, like something was after him. He sallied around, old Brer Rabbit did, and after he made sure that nobody was following, he bounced into the spring-house, and there he stayed until he got a helping of butter. Then he sauntered on back and went to work. 'Where have you been?' said Brer Fox. 'I heard my children calling me,' said Brer Rabbit, 'and I had to go see what they wanted. My old woman has gone and taken sick,' he said. They worked on until by and by the butter tasted so good that old Brer Rabbit wanted some more. Then he raised up his head, he did, and hollered out, 'Heyo! Hold on! I'm a-coming!' And off he went. This time he stayed a good while, and when he got back, Brer Fox asked him where he'd been. 'I've been to see my old woman, and she's sinking,' he Directly Brer Rabbit heard them calling him again, and off he went, and this time, bless your soul, he got the butter out so clean that he could see himself in the bottom of the bucket. He scraped it clean and licked it dry, and then he went back to work looking like a black man that had been picked up by the plantation patrol. 'How's your old woman this time?' said Brer Rabbit. 'I'm obliged to you, Brer Fox,' said Brer Rabbit, 'but I'm afraid that she's gone by now,' and that sort of made Brer Fox and Brer Possum feel in mourning with Brer Rabbit. By and by, when dinnertime came, they all got out their vittles, but Brer Rabbit kept on looking lonesome, and Brer Fox and Brer Possum, they sort of rustled around to see if they couldn't make Brer Rabbit feel sort of splimmy. 'What is that, Uncle Remus?' asked the little boy. 'Sort of splimmy-splammy [feeling fine], honey. Sort of like he was among friends, sort of like his old woman wasn't dead after all. You know what folks do when they are around people who are mourning? The little boy didn't know, fortunately for him, and Uncle Remus went on: Brer Fox and Brer Possum rustled around, they did, getting out the vittles, and by and by Brer Fox, he said, 'Brer Possum, you run down to the spring and fetch the butter, and I'll sail around you and set the table,' he said. Brer Possum, he loped off after the butter, and directly he came loping back with his ears a-trembling and his tongue a-hanging out. 'Brer Fox!' he hollered out. 'What's the matter now, Brer Possum?' he said. 'You all had better run, folks' said Brer Possum. 'The last drop of that butter is gone.' 'Where did it go?' said Brer Fox. 'It looks like it dried up,' said Brer Possum. Then Brer Rabbit, he looked sort of solemn, he did, and he up and said, 'I suspect that the butter melted in somebody's mouth,' he Then they went down to the spring with Brer Possum, and sure enough, the butter was gone. While they were talking about the mystery, Brer rabbit said that he could see tracks all around there, and he pointed out that if they would all go to sleep, he could catch the chap that stole the butter. They all lay down, and Brer Fox and Brer Possum, they soon dropped off to sleep, but Brer Rabbit, he stayed awake, and when the time came, he got up easy, and smeared Brer Possum's mouth with the butter on his paws, and then he ran off and nibbled up the best of the dinner that they had left lying out, and then he came back and woke up Brer Fox and showed him the butter on Brer Possum's mouth. Then they woke up Brer Possum and told him about it, but of course Brer Possum denied it to the last. Now Brer Fox, he's kind of a lawyer, and he argued this way: that Brer Possum was the first one at the butter, and the first one to miss it, and more than that, there were the signs on his mouth. Brer Possum could see that they had him jammed up in a corner, and then he up and said that the way to catch the man that stole the butter was to build a big brush heap and set it on fire, and everyone would try to jump over it, and the one that fell in, that would be the chap that stole the butter. Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox, they both agreed, they did, and they whirled in and built the brush heap, and they built it high, and they built it wide, and then they touched it off. When it got to blazing up good, Brer Rabbit he took the first turn. He sort of stepped back, and looked around and giggled, and over he went, just like a bird flying. Then came Brer Fox. He got back a little further, and spit on his hands, and lit out and made the jump, and he came so close to falling in that his tail caught fire. 'Haven't you ever seen a fox, honey?' inquired Uncle Remus, in a tone that implied both conciliation and information. The little boy thought probably he had, but he wouldn't commit himself. 'Well then, continued the old man, 'next time you see one of them, you look right close and see if the end of his tail isn't white. It's just like I tell you. They bear the scar of that brush right down to this day. They are marked, that's what they are. They are marked.' 'And what about Brother Possum?' asked the little boy. 'Old Brer Possum, he took a running start, he did, and he came lumbering along, and he lit -- kerblam! -- right in the middle of the fire, and that was the last of old Brer Possum.' 'But, Uncle Remus, Brother Possum didn't steal the butter after all,' said the little boy, who was not at all satisfied with such summary injustice. 'That's what makes me say what I say, honey. In this world, lots of folks have to suffer for other folks' sins. It looks like it's mighty wrong, but it's just that way. Tribulation seems like it's a-waiting just around the corner to catch one and all of us, honey.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
15,Reynard and Bruin,Europe,"Jacobs, an eminent folklorist, derived this 'restored' text from a variety of European sources.","Joseph Jacobs, Europa's Fairy Book (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), pp. 42-43.","You must know that once upon a time Reynard the Fox and Bruin the Bear went into partnership and kept house together. Would you like to know the reason? Well, Reynard knew that Bruin had a beehive full of honeycomb, and that was what he wanted. But Bruin kept so close a guard upon his honey that Master Reynard didn't know how to get away from him and get hold of the honey. So one day he said to Bruin, 'Pardner, I have to go and be gossip -- that means godfather, you know -- to one of my old friends.' 'Why, certainly,' said Bruin. So off Reynard goes into the woods, and after a time he crept back and uncovered the beehive and had such a feast of honey. Then he went back to Bruin, who asked him what name had been given to the child. Reynard had forgotten all about the christening and could only say, 'Just-Begun.' 'What a funny name,' said Master Bruin. A little while after, Reynard thought he would like another feast of honey. So he told Bruin that he had to go to another christening. And off he went. And when he came back and Bruin asked him what was the name given to the child, Reynard said, 'Half-Eaten.' The third time the same thing occurred, and this time the name given by Reynard to the child that didn't exist was 'All-Gone.' You can guess why. A short time afterwards, Master Bruin thought he would like to eat up some of his honey and asked Reynard to come and join him in the feast. When they got to the beehive, Bruin was so surprised to find that there was no honey left, and he turned round to Reynard and said, 'Just-Begun, Half-Eaten, All-Gone. So that is what you meant. You have eaten my honey.' 'Why no,' said Reynard. 'How could that be?' I have never stirred from your side except when I went a-gossiping [serving as godfather], and then I was far away from here. You must have eaten the honey yourself, perhaps when you were asleep. At any rate we can easily tell. Let us lie down here in the sunshine, and if either of us has eaten the honey, the sun will soon sweat it out of us.' No sooner said than done, and the two lay side by side in the sunshine. Soon Master Bruin commenced to doze, and Mr. Reynard took some honey from the hive and smeared it round Bruin's snout. Then he woke him up and said, 'See, the honey is oozing out of your snout. You must have eaten it when you were asleep.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
15,The Fox and the Wolf,Netherlands,The episode of catching a horse by the tail is categorized as Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 47A. Link to additional tales of type 47A: Catching a Horse by Its Tail.,"G. J. Boekenoogen, 'Van den vos en den wolf,' Volkskunde: Tijdschrift voon Nederlandsche Folklore, vol. 15 (1903), no. 32, pp. 112-13. Collected 1894 in Beilen, province of Drente.","The fox and the wolf stole a keg of butter from a peasant and hid it in a safe place. However, the hiding-place was far from where they lived, and one day when the fox got the urge to have a taste of the butter by himself, he felt the necessity of borrowing the wolf's boots for the long journey. The wolf, of course, asked him why he needed the boots. 'Well,' said the fox, 'I must travel a great distance to a baptism.' 'Good,' said the wolf, and the fox, wearing the wolf's boots, took off for the keg. When he returned, the wolf asked him what the child's name was. 'Beginning' said the fox, and wolf thought to himself, 'That is a nice name.' A short time later the fox came again and asked to borrow the boots, saying that once again he had to go to a baptism. 'Good,' said the wolf, and once again the fox set forth wearing the wolf's boots. When he returned, the wolf asked him, 'What is the child's name?' 'Middle-of-the-Keg' said the fox, and the wolf thought, 'That is an even nicer name.' Some time later the fox came again and said that still another child was to be baptized. When he brought back the boots, the wolf again asked him what name the child had been given. 'Well,' said the fox, 'this time his name is Bottom-of-the-Keg.' When the fox came a fourth time, the wolf grew somewhat impatient and asked if there would be no end to the baptisms. 'Yes,' said the fox. 'This is the last time.' 'If that is so,' said the wolf, 'then go ahead and put on the boots.' The fox went again to the keg, and licked it clean. Then he filled it with stones, spread a thin layer of butter over them, and went home. The wolf again asked him what the child's name was, and the fox answered, 'Scrape-out-the-Keg.' Some time later the fox proposed to the wolf that the two of them should go to the keg of butter and have a real feast. Arriving there, they began quarreling with one another which one should have the first serving. Unable to decide, they drew straws. The wolf was lucky and drew the longer one, so he was to begin first. He started eating vigorously, but, of course, got only a mouthful of stones. You should have seen the wolf and the fox. Each one accused the other one of eating up the butter. 'You did it when you were going to the baptisms,' said the wolf. 'No,' said the fox. 'You did it when you knew that I wasn't at home.' But none of this led anywhere. The keg was empty and remained empty, so they decided to return home without further delay. On their way home they found an old horse in a mire. They wanted to take it with them and asked one another how they might manage. The fox said, 'You are the strongest. Tie the horse's tail around your body and pull, while I prod the horse with a stick.' That happened, and soon the horse was out of the mud, but it then ran off with the wolf tied to its tail. 'Claw your paws into the ground!' cried the fox. 'But I can see neither heaven nor earth!' answered the wolf. Finally the wolf succeeded in breaking loose, and he and the fox continued on their way, but without the horse. When they arrived at home the wolf sat down with his back to the fire, for he was wet to the bone. Sitting there, he fell asleep. The fox took some butter and spread it under the wolf's tail. Because of the warmth it soon melted. Then the fox woke up the wolf and shouted, 'Now it is clear who licked out the butter keg.' Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 47A. Link to additional tales of type 47A: Catching a Horse by Its Tail.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
15,The Fox Cheats the Bear out of His Christmas Fare,Norway,"Thorpe's source: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Bjørnen og reven: Reven snyter bjørnen for julekosten.","Benjamin Thorpe, Yule-Tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1853), pp. 279-80. Translation slightly revised by D. L. Ashliman.","A bear and a fox had once bought between them a tub of butter, which they intended to keep till Christmas, and, therefore, hid it under a thick pine bush. They then went a little distance and lay down on a sunny bank to sleep. When they had lain some time, the fox started up and cried out, 'Yes,' and ran away towards the butter tub, out of which he ate a good third. When he returned the bear asked him where he had been, as he looked so greasy about the mouth. He said, 'What do you think of my being invited to a christening?' 'Oh, indeed! What is the name of the child?' asked the bear. 'Begun Upon,' answered the fox. Thereupon they lay down to sleep again. In a little while the fox sprang up again and cried out, 'Yes,' and ran to the butter tub. This time he also ate a good portion. When he came back, and the bear again asked where he had been, he answered, 'Oh, would you believe it? I have again been invited to a christening.' 'What is the name of the child?' asked the bear. 'Half Eaten,' answered the fox. The bear thought that was a strange name, though he did not wonder long about it, but gave a gape and went to sleep again. They had not lain long when the same took place as before. The fox sprang up and cried out, 'Yes,' and ran to the butter tub, and this time he ate the remainder. When he came back, he had been once more to a christening, and when the bear inquired the name of the child, he answered, 'Licked to the Bottom!' They now lay down and slept a long time. At length they agreed to go and look after their butter, and when they found it all eaten up, the bear accused the fox, and the fox accused the bear, of having eaten it. One said that the other must have been to the butter tub while he slept. 'Well, well!' said Reynard. 'We shall soon see which of us two has stolen the butter. Let us both now lie down on this sunny bank, and the one whose tail is the greasiest when we wake, must be the one who has stolen it.' The bear was willing to undergo the ordeal. So, feeling conscious of his innocence, and that he had not even tasted the butter, he lay down to have a good sound sleep in the sun. But Reynard, instead of sleeping, crept softly to the butter tub, and got a little that still remained between the staves. Then sneaking gently back to the bear, he rubbed his tail with it, and lay down to sleep as if nothing had happened. When they both woke, the sun had melted the butter on the bear's tail, so that he was proved to be the one that had eaten the butter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
15,The Keg of Butter,Scotland,"Campbell's text cautiously modernized and normalized by D. L. Ashliman. Campbell's source: 'From Hector Boyd, Barra, who learnt it from Neil M'Neill, Watersay; and from many other old men. Neil M'Neill died ten years ago, past eighty years of age. -- Castle Bay, Sept. 20, 1860.'","J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands, Orally Collected, vol. 3 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1862), no. 65, pp. 96-98.","The russet dog and the wild dog (the fox and the wolf) were going together. And they went round about the seashore, and they found a keg of butter, and they buried it. On the morrow the fox went out, and when he returned, he said that a man had come to ask him to a baptism. The fox went, and he arrayed himself in excellent attire, and he went away. And where should he go but to the butter keg. And when he came home, the wolf asked him, 'What name was given to the child?' And he said that it was Foveeal (under its mouth). On the morrow the fox said that a man had sent to ask him to a baptism. And he went to the keg, and he took out about half. The wolf asked, when he came home, 'What name was given to the child?' 'Well,' said he, 'It is a queer name that I myself would not give to my man child, if I had one. It is Moolay Moolay (about half and half).' On the morrow the fox said that a man had come to ask him to a baptism again. And he went to the keg, and he ate it all up. When he came home, the wolf asked him, 'What name was given to the child?' And he said that it was Booill Eemlich (licking all up). On the morrow the fox said to the wolf that they ought to bring the keg home. They went, and when they reached the keg, there was not a shadow of the butter in it. 'Well,' said the fox, 'you came here without me!' The other one swore that he had not come near it. 'You need not be claiming that you did not come here. I know that you did come, and that it was you who took the butter. And when we go home, I will see if you ate the butter,' said the fox. When they arrived home, the fox hung the wolf by his hind legs, with his head dangling below him. Then he put a dab of the butter under the wolf's mouth, as though it had come out of the wolf's belly. 'You red thief!' said the fox. 'I said before, that it was you who ate the butter!' Campbell's source: 'From Hector Boyd, Barra, who learnt it from Neil M'Neill, Watersay; and from many other old men. Neil M'Neill died ten years ago, past eighty years of age. -- Castle Bay, Sept. 20, 1860.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
47B,"The Fox, the Wolf, and the Horse",Jean de La Fontaine,NA,"Jean de La Fontaine (1621-1695), The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 12, fable 17, p. 333.","'Ho! neighbour wolf,' said he to one quite green, 'A creature in our meadow I have seen, -- Sleek, grand! I seem to see him yet, -- The finest beast I ever met.' 'Is he a stouter one than we?' The wolf demanded, eagerly; 'Some picture of him let me see.' 'If I could paint,' said fox, I should delight T' anticipate your pleasure at the sight; But come; who knows? perhaps it is a prey By fortune offer'd in our way.' They went. The horse, turn'd loose to graze, Not liking much their looks or ways, Was just about to gallop off. 'Sir,' said the fox, 'your humble servants, we Make bold to ask you what your name may be.' The horse, an animal with brains enough, Replied, 'Sirs, you yourselves may read my name; My shoer round my heel hath writ the same.' The fox excus'd himself for want of knowledge: 'Me, sir, my parents did not educate, -- So poor, a hole was their entire estate. My friend, the wolf, however, taught at college, Could read it were it even Greek.' The wolf, to flattery weak, Approach'd to verify the boast; For which four teeth he lost. The high raised hoof came down with such a blow, As laid him bleeding on the ground full low. 'My brother,' said the fox, 'this shows how just What once was taught me by a fox of wit, -- Which on thy jaws this animal hath writ, -- 'All unknown things the wise mistrust.''",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
47B,The Wolf and the Tailor,Russia,The episodes in this tale are classified as follows: The wolf attempts to read the message on the horse's hoof: type 47E. The ram offers to run into the wolf's stomach: type 122M*. The tailor asks for one last favor before being eaten: type 122A. The wolves climb on top of one another: type 121. The wolf attempts to read the message on the horse's hoof: type 47E. The ram offers to run into the wolf's stomach: type 122M*. The tailor asks for one last favor before being eaten: type 122A. The wolves climb on top of one another: type 121.,"Alexander Afanasyev, Russian Folk-Tales, translated from the Russian by Leonard A. Magnus (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, and Company, 1916), pp. 33-35.","This story is a story of the past of the days when Christ and the twelve apostles still walked on earth. One day they were still on their road, going on a long, long road, and a wolf met them and said: 'Lord, I am feeling hungry.' 'Go,' Christ said to him, 'and eat a mare.' So the wolf went to look for a mare. And he saw her going up and down, and said: 'Mare, the Lord has bidden me eat you!' So she answered: 'Well, please do not eat me it is not the proper thing. But I have a passport on me; only it is driven in very hard.' 'Well, show it me.' 'Just come near my hind feet!' So the wolf went up, and she kicked him with her hoofs, and knocked out his front teeth, so that the wolf was thrown, at a blow, three sazhéns away, and the mare ran off. [A sazhén is seven feet.] Back the wolf came with a petition, met Christ, and said: 'Lord, the mare almost killed me!' 'Well, go on and eat the ram.' So the wolf ran up to the ram ran up and said: 'Ram, I am going to eat you; it is the command of the Lord.' 'Well, come and eat me up if you will. I will stand on the hill, and will jump up into your mouth all ready.' So the wolf stood on the hill, and the ram told him to open his mouth. So the wolf went and stood on the hill and opened his mouth for the food, and the ram ran down and hit him hard with the horns on his fore-head whack! The wolf was knocked off his feet, and the ram went away. And the wolf got up, looked all round, and there was never a sign of the ram. So he went up with another complaint. And he found Christ and said: 'Lord, even the ram has deceived me. Why, it almost knocked me to bits.' 'All right!' said Christ. 'Go and eat the tailor.' So the wolf ran up, and he met a tailor on the way. 'Tailor,' he said, 'I am going to eat you, by command of the Lord.' 'All right. Let me say good-bye I should like to greet my kin.' 'No, I cannot let you say good-bye with your kin.' 'Well, I cannot help it it must be so. Come and eat me up. Only at least let me take your measurements. I only want to see whether I shall slip in easily.' 'All right! Measure away,' said the wolf. So the tailor went back, took hold of the wolf by his tail, twined his tail round in his hand, and began to whip the wolf. And the wolf struggled and tussled, roared and shrieked, and tore until he tore his tail loose, and he then took to his feet. So he ran away with all of his might, and he met seven other wolves. They said: 'Why are you, grey wolf, tailless?' 'Oh, the tailor tore it out.' 'Where is the tailor?' 'You see him there, on the road.' ' All right we will hunt after him.' And they started after the tailor. When the tailor heard the chase coming after him, and saw that it was a disagreeable business, he scaled up a tree as fast as he could. So the wolves arrived there and said: 'We will stop here, brothers, and wait until the tailor comes down. Do you, manx-wolf, stop below, and we will each of us climb on the other's shoulders.' So the manx-wolf lay at the bottom, and all the seven wolves went after the others and climbed up. When the tailor saw his ill-fate coming so near him, for they were nearer and nearer, he cried out to the top one: 'It is nobody's fault, only the manx-wolf's!' So the manx-wolf was frightened, and jumped out from below and ran off. All the seven wolves tumbled down and chased after him, caught him up, and tore him to bits. But the tailor slid down the tree and went back home. The episodes in this tale are classified as follows:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
47B,Two Foxes and a Horse,Scotland,"Campbell's source: John Mackinnon, a stable boy at Broadford in Skye. Campbell does not give this tale a title.","J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands, new edition, vol. 1 (London: Alexander Gardner, 1890), pp. 286-87.","Two foxes came to a smith's house, and there was a horse tied at the door, and he had a golden shoe, and there was a name on it. 'I will go and read what is written on that shoe,' said the big fox, and went. But the horse lifted his foot, and struck a kick on him, and drove his brains out. (London: Alexander Gardner, 1890), pp. 286-87. Skye.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,"Conkiajgharuna, the Little Rag-Girl",Georgia,"Wardrop's heroine and the story itself are both named 'Conkiajgharuna,' which means 'the little girl in rags.' This story combines a tale of type 480 'The Kind and the Unkind Girls' with a tale of type 510A 'Cinderella.'","Source (Internet Archive): Marjory Wardrop, Georgian Folk Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 63-67.","Some time passed, and his wife died. He was unhappy before, but now a greater misfortune had befallen him. He grieved and grieved, and at last he said to himself, 'I will go and take another wife; she will mind the house, and tend my orphan child.' So he arose and took a second wife, but this wife brought with her a daughter of her own. When this woman came into her husband's house and saw his child, she was angry in heart. She treated Little Rag-Girl badly. She petted her own daughter, but scolded her stepdaughter, and tried to get rid of her. Every day she gave her a piece of badly cooked bread, and sent her out to watch the cow, saying, 'Here is a loaf; eat of it, give to every wayfarer, and bring the loaf home whole.' The girl went, and felt very miserable. Once she was sitting sadly in the field, and began to weep bitterly. The cow listened, and then opened its mouth, and said, 'Why are you weeping? What troubles you?' The girl told her sad tale. The cow said, 'In one of my horns is honey, and in the other is butter, which you can take if you want to, so why be unhappy?' The girl took the butter and the honey, and in a short time she grew plump. When the stepmother noticed this she did not know what to do for rage. She rose, and after that every day she gave her a basket of wool with her; this wool was to be spun and brought home in the evening finished. The stepmother wished to tire the girl out with toil, so that she should grow thin and ugly. Once when Little Rag-Girl was tending the cow, it ran away onto a roof. Looking inside she saw an old woman seated, and said to her, 'Good mother, will you give me my spindle?' The old dame replied, 'I am not able, my child, come and take it yourself.' The old woman was a devi. The girl went in and was lifting up her spindle, when the old dame called out, 'Daughter, daughter, come and look at my head a moment. I am almost eaten up.' The girl came and looked at her head. She was filled with horror; all the worms in the earth seemed to be crawling there. The little girl stroked her head and removed some, and then said, 'You have a clean head. Why should I look at it?' This conduct pleased the old woman very much, and she said, 'When you leave here, go along such and such a road, and in a certain place you will see three springs -- one white, one black, and one yellow. Pass by the white and black, and put your head in the yellow and rinse it with your hands.' The girl did this. She went on her way, and came to the three springs. She passed by the white and black, and bathed her head with her hands in the yellow fountain. When she looked up she saw that her hair was quite golden, and her hands, too, shone like gold. In the evening, when she went home, her stepmother was filled with fury. After this she sent her own daughter with the cow. Perhaps the same good fortune would visit her! So Little Rag-Girl stayed at home while her stepsister drove out the cow. Once more the cow ran onto the roof. The girl pursued it, and her spindle fell down. She looked in, and seeing the devi woman, called out, 'Dog of an old woman! Here! Come and give me my spindle!' The old woman replied, 'I am not able, child, come and take it yourself.' When the girl came near, the old woman said, 'Come, child, and look at my head.' The girl came and looked at her head, and cried out, 'Ugh! What a horrid head you have! You are a disgusting old woman!' The old woman said, 'I thank you, my child; when you go on your way you will see a yellow, a white, and a black spring. Pass by the yellow and the white springs, and rinse your head with your hands in the black one.' The girl did this. She passed by the yellow and white springs, and bathed her head in the black one. When she looked at herself she was black as an African, and on her head there was a horn. She cut it off again and again, but it grew larger and larger. She went home and complained to her mother, who was almost frenzied, but there was no help for it. Her mother said to herself, 'This is all the cow's fault, so it shall be killed.' This cow knew the future. When it learned that it was to be killed, it went to Little Rag-Girl and said, 'When I am dead, gather my bones together and bury them in the earth. When you are in trouble come to my grave, and cry aloud, 'Bring my steed and my royal robes!'' Little Rag-Girl did exactly as the cow had told her. When it was dead she took its bones and buried them in the earth. After this, some time passed. One holiday the stepmother took her daughter, and they went to church. She placed a trough in front of Little Rag-Girl, spread a large measure of millet in the courtyard, and said, 'Before we come home from church fill this trough with tears, and gather up this millet, so that not one grain is left.' Then they went to church. Little Rag-Girl sat down and began to weep. While she was crying a neighbor came in a said, 'Why are you in tears? What is the matter?' The little girl told her tale. The woman brought all the brood hens and chicken, and they picked up every grain of millet, then she put a lump of salt in the trough and poured water over it. 'There, child,' said she, 'there are your tears! Now go and enjoy yourself.' Little Rag-Girl then thought of the cow. She went to its grave and called out, 'Bring me my steed and my royal robes!' There appeared at once a horse and beautiful clothes. Little Rag-Girl put on the garments, mounted the horse, and went to the church. There all the folk began to stare at her. They were amazed at her grandeur. Her stepsister whispered to her mother when she saw her, 'This girl is very much like our Little Rag-Girl!' Her mother smiled scornfully and said, 'Who would give that sun darkener such robes?' Little Rag-Girl left the church before anyone else; she changed her clothes in time to appear before her stepmother in rags. On the way home, as she was leaping over a stream, in her haste she let her slipper fall in. A long time passed. Once when the king's horses were drinking water in this stream, they saw the shining slipper and were so afraid that they would drink no more water. The king was told that there was something shining in the stream, and that the horses were afraid. The king commanded his divers to find out what it was. They found the golden slipper, and presented it to the king. When he saw it, he commanded his viziers, saying, 'Go and seek the owner of this slipper, for I will wed none but her.' His viziers sought the maiden, but they could find no one whom the slipper would fit. Little Rag-Girl's mother heard this, adorned her daughter, and placed her on a throne. Then she went and told the king that she had a daughter whose foot he might look at. It was exactly the model for the shoe. She put Little Rag-Girl in a corner, with a big basket over her. When the king came into the house he sat down on the basket, in order to try on the slipper. Little Rag-Girl took a needle and pricked the king from under the basket. He jumped up, stinging with pain, and asked the stepmother what she had under the basket. The stepmother replied, 'It is only a turkey I have there.' The king sat down on the basket again, and Little Rag-Girl again stuck the needle into him. The king jumped up, and cried out, 'Lift the basket. I will see underneath!' The stepmother pleaded with him, saying, 'Do not blame me, your majesty, it is only a turkey, and it will run away.' But the king would not listen to her pleas. He lifted the basket up, and Little Rag-Girl came forth, and said, 'This slipper is mine, and fits me well.' She sat down, and the king found that it was indeed a perfect fit. Little Rag-Girl became the king's wife, and her shameless stepmother was left with a dry throat.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,Frau Holle,Germany,"In the second edition of their tales (1819), the Grimms changed the nature of the accident that caused the heroine to fall into the underground realm. The relevant passage follows: Every day the poor girl had to take a seat on the road by a well and had to spin so much that the blood sprang from her fingers. Now it happened once that the spool was entirely bloody, and she leaned over into the well and wanted to wash it off; but it jumped from her hand and fell down. She cried, ran to her stepmother and told her of the misfortune. She scolded her severely and was so uncompassionate that she said, 'You let the spool fall, so go get it back.' Then the girl went back to the well and didn't know what she should do; and in her great fear she jumped into the well, in order to get the spool. In explanation to the connection between Frau Holle's bedmaking and snow on earth, the Grimms add the following footnote: 'For this reason, in Hesse when it snows they say that Frau Holle is making her bed.' They might also have mentioned, but did not, that in some areas of Europe Frau Holle's snow making abilities were transferred, in the Christian era, either to Saint Peter or to Jesus himself, both of whom, like their pagan counterpart, caused it to snow by shaking their featherbeds. Bed-making in European folklore is thus not entirely dominated by females. Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Frau Holle,' Kinder und Hausmärchen: Gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 1, 7th edition (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 24, pp. 133-36. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Frau Holle,' Kinder und Hausmärchen: Gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 1, 7th edition (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 24, pp. 133-36. Link to Frau Holle by the Brothers Grimm: The Version of 1857. Link to Frau Holle by the Brothers Grimm: A Comparison of the Versions of 1812 and 1857.","Kinder- und Haus-Märchen: Gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), v. 1, no. 24, pp. 106-110. Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Frau Holle,' Kinder und Hausmärchen: Gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 1, 7th edition (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 24, pp. 133-36. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Frau Holle,' Kinder und Hausmärchen: Gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 1, 7th edition (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 24, pp. 133-36.","A widow had two daughters; the one was beautiful and industrious, the other ugly and lazy. The mother greatly favored the ugly, lazy girl. The other one had to do all the work, and was truly a Cinderella. One day while pulling a bucket of water from the well she leaned over too far and fell in. Recovering, she found herself in a beautiful meadow. The sun was shining, and there were thousands of flowers. She walked along and soon came to an oven full of bread. The bread called out, 'Take me out, or I'll burn! I've been thoroughly baked for a long time!' The girl took the bread from the oven and walked further until she came to a tree laden with ripe apples. 'Shake me! Shake me! We apples are all ripe!' cried the tree, and the girl shook the tree until the apples fell as though it were raining apples. When none were left in the tree, she continued on her way. Finally she came to a small house. An old woman was peering out from inside. She had very large teeth, which frightened the girl, and she wanted to run away. But the old woman called out to her, 'Don't be afraid, dear child. Stay here with me, and if you do my housework in an orderly fashion, it will go well with you. Only you must take care to make my bed well and shake it until the feathers fly, then it will snow in the world. I am Frau Holle.' Because the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl agreed, and started in her service. She took care of everything to her satisfaction and always shook her featherbed vigorously. Therefore she had a good life with her: no angry words, and cooked meals every day. Now after she had been with Frau Holle for a time, her heart saddened. Even though she was many thousands of times better off here than at home, still she had a yearning for home. Finally she said to the old woman, 'I have such a longing for home, and even though I am very well off here, I cannot stay longer.' Frau Holle said, 'You are right, and because you have served me so faithfully, I will take you back myself.' With that she took her by the hand and led her to a large gate. The gate was opened, and while the girl was standing under it, an immense rain of gold fell, and all the gold stuck to her, so that she was completely covered with it. 'This is yours because you have been so industrious,' said Frau Holle. With that the gate was closed and the girl found herself above in the world. She went home to her mother, and because she arrived all covered with gold, she was well received. When the mother heard how she had come to the great wealth, she wanted to achieve the same fortune for the other, the ugly and lazy daughter. She made her go and jump into the well. Like the other one, she too awoke in a beautiful meadow, and she walked along the same path. When she came to the oven, the bread cried again, 'Oh, take me out, take me out, or else I'll burn! I've been thoroughly baked for a long time!' But the lazy one answered, 'As if I would want to get all dirty,' and walked away. Soon she came to the apple tree. It cried out, 'Oh, shake me, shake me, we apples are all ripe.' But she answered, 'Oh yes, one could fall on my head,' and with that she walked on. When she came to Frau Holle's house, she was not afraid, because she had already heard about her large teeth, and she immediately began to work for her. On the first day she forced herself, was industrious and obeyed Frau Holle, when she said something to her, because she was thinking about all the Gold that she would give her. But on the second day she already began to be lazy, on the third day even more so, then she didn't even want to get up in the morning. She did not make the bed for Frau Holle, the way she was supposed to, and she did not shake it until the feathers flew. Frau Holle soon became tired of this and dismissed her of her duties. This is just what the lazy girl wanted, for she thought that she would now get the rain of gold. Frau Holle led her too to the gate. She stood beneath it, but instead of gold, a large kettle full of pitch spilled over her. 'That is the reward for your services,' said Frau Holle, and closed the gate. Then the lazy girl returned home, entirely covered with pitch, and it would not come off as long as she lived. Every day the poor girl had to take a seat on the road by a well and had to spin so much that the blood sprang from her fingers. Now it happened once that the spool was entirely bloody, and she leaned over into the well and wanted to wash it off; but it jumped from her hand and fell down. She cried, ran to her stepmother and told her of the misfortune. She scolded her severely and was so uncompassionate that she said, 'You let the spool fall, so go get it back.' Then the girl went back to the well and didn't know what she should do; and in her great fear she jumped into the well, in order to get the spool.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,Frau Holle and the Distaff,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): August Ey, 'Die Frau Holle und die Flachsdiesse,' Harzmärchenbuch; oder, Sagen und Märchen aus dem Oberharze (Stade: vberlag von Fr. Steudel, 1862), pp. 193-94. Source (Internet Archive): August Ey, 'Die Frau Holle und die Flachsdiesse,' Harzmärchenbuch; oder, Sagen und Märchen aus dem Oberharze (Stade: vberlag von Fr. Steudel, 1862), pp. 193-94.","One of the girls span very industriously, but the other one liked to spend her time chatting, and furthermore, when evening came she was the first one who began to nod and to sleep. When the industrious one quit work for the night at eleven o'clock, the lazy one had already slept a few hours. For this reason the lazy sister caused the industrious girl much grief. It was Easter time, and on Easter Eve the industrious girl sat spinning while the other one had gone out to see the Easter celebration and to amuse herself. Liese was spinning when the clock struck eleven. The door opened and in walked a beautiful woman wearing a long white silken dress. She had beautiful long golden yellow hair and carried in her hand a beautiful distaff, white as silver and fine as silk. With a friendly voice she greeted the good girl, who was just letting the last flax run onto the reel as thread. Feeling the thread, she said: Following this appearance, industrious Liese went to bed. Her sister came home later and went to bed as well. On Easter morning when the two girls got up, in the place of Liese's wooden spinning wheel there stood one of shining gold. It sparkled and glistened magnificently, and the thread that Liese had spun was as fine and white as silk. And as she unreeled it, she discovered that however much thread she removed, the reel remained full. Liese was delighted! However, when the lazy girl looked at her spinning wheel, she was startled to discover that her distaff was covered with straw instead of flax. And her chest was now filled with chopped straw instead of the beautiful linen cloth that had been there. And that is why even today they say that the distaff must be spun empty on the Holy Evening, or Frau Holle will come and bring chopped straw.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,Lazy Maria,USA,"Note by Gardner: This tale and the two which follow were told to me by Mrs. William Buell. Other members of the same family spell the name Bull. Mrs. Buell is related to the Brink family, of which many members have been great story-tellers, fortune-tellers, witch doctors, and, as Mrs. B. says, unusual people. Mrs. B. learned these stories from hearing her mother tell them; and, as she has a most retentive memory, I doubt not that they are very nearly as she heard them. She thinks that her mother was German. The story is a variant of 'Mother Holle,' in the Grimm collection.","Source (books.google.com): Emelyn E. Gardner, 'Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 27 (1914), no. 3, pp. 307-310. Source (jstor): Emelyn E. Gardner, 'Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 27 (1914), no. 3, pp. 307-310.","Once upon a time there lived a man with three daughters, who, as he thought, were old enough to look out for themselves. So he called them to him, and said, 'It is time to go out in the world and seek your fortune. I'll start the oldest first. Go and see what luck you have in the world!' So the oldest girl took her bundle of clothes tied up in a big kerchief, and away she went. After a while, just as she was beginning to feel hungry, she saw standing right near her a cow. The cow said: Milk me, milk me, or my bag will bust! No sooner had the cow said this, and the girl was wishing for something to milk the cow into, than she espied right near the cow an oven. From it came a voice, which said: Take me out or I'll burn up! The girl looked inside the oven to see what was talking, and there was a fine loaf of bread. She took it out, dug the center out of it, and filled the hollow with milk from the cow, then had a meal of bread and milk. She said, 'The old man sent me out, and I must be doing well.' After she had eaten all the bread and milk she wanted, she went on her way. Pretty soon she came to an apple-tree full of apples. Shake me, shake me, or my limbs will break! Shake me, shake me, or my limbs will break!' said the apple-tree. So the girl shook the tree until her lap was full of apples. When she had eaten all the apples she wanted, she put some in her kerchief and went on her way. Towards dusk she came to a fine-looking mansion, and she thought she would inquire if they (the occupants) wanted anybody to work for them. Seeing a man standing in front of the house, she called out, 'Halloo!' 'Halloo!' answered the man, who liked the girl's looks. 'Do you want a girl to work for you?' asked the girl. 'I think we do need one,' answered the man; 'but my master isn't home tonight, so you had better stay all night. Which door would you like to enter? One is a gold door: if you go in through it, you will be covered from head to foot with gold. The other is a tar door: if you go in through it, you will be covered with tar.' 'Oh, I don't mind!' replied the girl. 'I had just as soon be covered with tar as with gold.' 'You are so humble, you deserve to go through the golden door.' 'I don't care,' repeated the girl. Thereupon the man led her through the golden door; and the gold clung to her nose, her fingers, her ears, to every part of her, until she was completely covered with gold. When she was well inside the house, the man said, 'We have two places where we put those who come here. Will you sleep under the ladder with the cats and dogs, or will you sleep in the high bed with all your gold and glitter?' 'I'd just as soon crawl under the ladder with the cats and dogs as to sleep in the high bed.' 'Being as you are so humble, I'll put you in the high bed with all your gold and glitter.' When she reached the room where the high bed was, she saw that everything was of gold. The gold from everything she touched stuck to her, even the golden sheets; and in the morning, with the golden sheets clinging fast to her, she thought she was rich enough to go home. So home she went. When the family saw her coming, her father said, 'What! Is that lazy whelp coming back? I'll get the horse-whip and whip her to death!' The girl, however, as soon as she came near enough to make herself heard, cried out, 'O father! I'm rich, rich!' And sure enough, the father had never seen so much gold in his life as he now saw on his daughter. As soon as he touched her, the gold fell off from her to the ground. The father ordered the girl to tell where she had been. When he heard the story, he decided to send the second daughter to try her luck in the same way. The second daughter had precisely the same experiences as her sister, and she too returned home 'rich, rich!' Then the father said, 'Now for Lazy Maria! She's never been good for anything yet. Let's see what she can do!' To her he said, 'Even if you are our baby, you must go.' So Lazy Maria took her bundle on her shoulder and started. Soon she came to the cow, which said: 'Go along, you old bitch! I don't care if it does,' replied the girl. Then the voice from within the oven cried out: 'Burn up, then! I won't touch you. I won't work when I'm all tired out,' complained the girl, and went on her way. When she came to the apple-tree, it cried: 'Let your limbs break, then! I sha'n't shake you,' said the girl, and went on. When she came to the mansion, the man on guard told her of the two doors, and asked her through which she wanted to enter. 'I want to go through the golden door,' said the girl. 'All right!' and the man pushed her through the tar door. The tar stuck to her hair, filled her eyes, and covered her from head to foot. 'Oh, my father will kill me!' she cried. 'Where will you sleep, under the ladder with the cats, or in the high bed?' asked the man. 'In the high bed, tar and all,' at once decided the girl. 'All right! Creep under the ladder.' And the man pushed her among the cats and dogs. 'You must be more humble,' said he, 'if you would get on in the world.' The next morning the poor girl, all covered with tar as she was, started for home. When the family saw her coming, they rushed out to see the gold; but when they discovered that she was covered with tar instead of gold, they cried, 'Let's whip her!' 'Oh, no!' said her father. 'Let's scrub the tar off!' but, scrub as they would, they couldn't get it off, because, you see, it had been put on by a witch. They scraped and scraped until they scraped the hair off her head, and the skin off her fingers and toes. At last they scraped off one of her warts, and there lay the witch. At that all the tar fell off, and Lazy Maria was free once more. But while her two sisters were rich and could go and come as they liked, Lazy Maria always had to stay at home, poor. Note by Gardner:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,Mangita and Larina,Philippines,NA,"Source (books.google.com): John Maurice Miller, Philippine Folklore Stories (Boston: Ginn and Company, 1904), pp. 47-55. Source (Internet Archive): John Maurice Miller, Philippine Folklore Stories (Boston: Ginn and Company, 1904), pp. 47-55.","This is a tale told in the lake district of Luzon. At times of rain or in winter the waters of the Laguna de Bai rise and detach from the banks a peculiar vegetation that resembles lettuce. These plants, which float for months down the Pasig River, gave rise, no doubt, to the story. Many years ago there lived on the banks of the Laguna de Bai a poor fisherman whose wife had died, leaving him two beautiful daughters named Mangita and Larina. Mangita had hair as black as night and a dark skin. She was as good as she was beautiful, and was loved by all for her kindness. She helped her father mend the nets and make the torches to fish with at night, and her bright smile lit up the little nipa house like a ray of sunshine. Larina was fair and had long golden hair of which she was very proud. She was different from her sister, and never helped with the work, but spent the day combing her hair and catching butterflies. She would catch a pretty butterfly, cruelly stick a pin through it, and fasten it in her hair. Then she would go down to the lake to see her reflection in the clear water, and would laugh to see the poor butterfly struggling in pain. The people disliked her for her cruelty, but they loved Mangita very much. This made Larina jealous, and the more Mangita was loved, the more her sister thought evil of her. One day a poor old woman came to the nipa house and begged for a little rice to put in her bowl. Mangita was mending a net and Larina was combing her hair in the doorway. When Larina saw the old woman she spoke mockingly to her and gave her a push that made her fall and cut her head on a sharp rock; but Mangita sprang to help her, washed the blood away from her head, and filled her bowl with rice from the jar in the kitchen. The poor woman thanked her and promised never to forget her kindness, but to her sister she spoke not a word. Larina did not care, however, but laughed at her and mocked her as she painfully made her way again down the road. When she had gone Mangita took Larina to task for her cruel treatment of a stranger; but, instead of doing any good, it only caused Larina to hate her sister all the more. Some time afterwards the poor fisherman died. He had gone to the big city down the river to sell his fish, and had been attacked with a terrible sickness that was raging there. The girls were now alone in the world. Mangita carved pretty shells and earned enough to buy food, but, though she begged Larina to try to help, her sister would only idle away the time. The terrible sickness now swept every where and poor Mangita, too, fell ill. She asked Larina to nurse her, but the latter was jealous of her and would do nothing to ease her pain. Mangita grew worse and worse, but finally, when it seemed as if she would soon die, the door opened and the old woman to whom she had been so kind came into the room. She had a bag of seeds in her hand, and taking one she gave it to Mangita, who soon showed signs of being better, but was so weak that she could not give thanks. The old woman then gave the bag to Larina and told her to give a seed to her sister every hour until she returned. She then went away and left the girls alone. Larina watched her sister, but did not give her a single seed. Instead, she hid them in her own long hair and paid no attention to Mangita's moans of pain. The poor girl's cries grew weaker and weaker, but not a seed would her cruel sister give her. In fact, Larina was so jealous that she wished her sister to die. When at last the old woman returned, poor Mangita was at the point of death. The visitor bent over the sick girl and then asked her sister if she had given Mangita the seeds. Larina showed her the empty bag and said she had given them as directed. The old woman searched the house, but of course could not find the seeds. She then asked Larina again if she had given them to Mangita. Again the cruel girl said that she had done so. Suddenly the room was filled with a blinding light, and when Larina could see once more, in place of the old woman stood a beautiful fairy holding the now well Mangita in her arms. She pointed to Larina and said, 'I am the poor woman who asked for rice. I wished to know your hearts. You were cruel and Mangita was kind, so she shall live with me in my island home in the lake. As for you, because you tried to do evil to your good sister, you shall sit at the bottom of the lake forever, combing out the seeds you have hidden in your hair.' Then she clapped her hands and a number of elves appeared and carried the struggling Larina away. 'Come,' said the fairy to Mangita, and she carried her to her beautiful home, where she lives in peace and happiness. As for Larina, she sits at the bottom of the lake and combs her hair. As she combs a seed out, another comes in, and every seed that is combed out becomes a green plant that floats out of the lake and down the Pasig. And to this day people can see them, and know that Larina is being punished for her wickedness.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,Morozko (Jack Frost),Russia,NA,"Source (books.google.com): R. Nisbet Bain, Russian Fairy Tales, from the Skazki of Polevoi, 2nd edition (London: Lawrence and Bullen, 1893), pp. 8-12. Source (Internet Archive): R. Nisbet Bain, Russian Fairy Tales, selected and translated from the Skazki of Polevoi (London: Lawrence and Bullen, 1892), pp. 8-12.","There was once a stepmother who, besides her stepdaughter, had a daughter of her own. Whatever her own daughter might do, she looked kindly at her and said, 'Sensible darling!' but as for the step daughter, whatever she might do to please, it was always taken amiss. Everything she did was wrong, and not as it should be. Yet, sooth to say, the little stepdaughter was as good as gold; in good hands she would have swum in cheese and butter, but, living with her stepmother, she bathed herself every day in tears. What was she to do? The blast, though it blows, does not blow forever, but a scolding old woman it is not so easy to avoid. She will take anything into her head, even to combing one's teeth. And the stepmother took it into her head to drive her stepdaughter from the house. 'Take her, take her away, my old man, whithersoever you like, that mine eyes may not see her, that my ears may not hear of her; but don't take her to my own daughter in the warm room, but take her into the bare fields to the bitter, biting frost.' The old man began to lament and weep, but for all that he put his daughter in the sledge; he would have liked to cover her with the horse-cloth, but even that he dared not do. So he took the homeless one into the bare fields, threw her on a heap of snow, crossed himself, and hastened home as fast as possible, that his eyes might not see his daughter's death. There the poor little thing remained on the fringe of the forest, sat down under a fir-tree, shivered, and softly said her prayers. All at once she heard some thing. Morozko was crackling in a fir-tree not far off, and he leaped from fir to fir and snapped his fingers. And look! now he has come to that fir beneath which the girl was sitting; and he snapped his fingers, and leaped up and down, and looked at the pretty girl. 'Maiden, maiden, 'tis I -- Moroz-Ruby-Nose!' 'Welcome, Moroz! God must have sent thee to my poor sinful soul.' 'Art thou warm, Maiden?' 'Warm, warm, dear little father Morozushko!' Moroz began to descend lower, and crackle still more, and snap his fingers more than ever, and again he began speaking to the girl. 'Art thou warm, maiden? Art thou warm, beauty?' The girl was scarce able to draw her breath, and yet she kept on saying, 'Yes, warm, Morozushko; warm, little father!' Morozko crackled more than ever, and snapped his fingers harder and yet harder, and he said to the maiden for the last time, 'Art thou warm, maiden? Art thou warm, beauty? Art thou warm, sweet clover?' The girl was all benumbed, and it was only in a voice scarcely audible that she could say, 'Oh, yes! warm, darling little pigeon mine, Morozushko!' Morozko quite loved her for her pretty speeches. He had compassion on the girl; he wrapped her in furs, warmed her with warm coverings, and brought her a coffer, high and heavy, full of bridal garments, and gave her a robe all garnished with gold and silver. She put it on, and oh, how beautiful and stately she looked! And she sat down and began to sing songs. And the stepmother was preparing her funeral feast and frying pancakes. 'Be off, husband, and bury your daughter!' she cried. And off the old man went. But the little dog under the table said, 'Bow-wow! The old man's daughter is going about in silver and gold, but the old woman's daughter no wooers will look at.' 'Silence, you fool! There's a pancake for you, and now say, 'The wooers will take the old woman's daughter, but there's nothing left of the old man's daughter but her bones.'' The little dog ate the pancake, but again he said, 'Bow-wow! The old man's daughter goes about in silver and gold, but the old woman's daughter no wooers will look at.' The old woman kept beating the dog and giving him pancakes, but the little dog would have his way, and said, 'The old man's daughter goes about in silver and gold, but the old woman's daughter no wooers will look at.' The floors creaked, the doors flew open wide, and in they brought the high and heavy coffer, and behind it walked the stepdaughter, in gold and silver, glittering like the sun. The stepmother looked at her, and threw up her arms. 'Old man, old man! Put to a pair of horses, and take my daughter at once. Put her in the selfsame field, in the selfsame place.' And the old man took the daughter to the selfsame place. And Moroz-Ruby-Nose came and looked at his guest, and began to ask her, 'Art thou warm, maiden?' 'Be off with you!' replied the old woman's daughter, 'or are you blind not to see that my arms and legs are quite benumbed with cold?' Morozko began skipping and jumping, fair words were not to be expected from that quarter. And he was angry with the step daughter, and froze her to death. 'Old man, old man! Go and fetch my daughter. Put to my swift horses, and don't overturn the sledge and upset the coffer.' But the little dog under the table said, 'Bow-wow! The wooers will wed the old man's daughter, but they'll bring home nothing of the old woman's daughter but a sack of bones.' 'Don't lie! There's a cake. Take it and say, 'They'll carry about the old woman's daughter in gold and silver!'' And the doors flew open, the nasty old woman ran out to meet her daughter, and instead of her she embraced a cold corpse. She began to howl and cry. She knew then that she had lost her wicked and envious daughter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,Saint Joseph in the Woods,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der heilige Joseph im Walde,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), Kinderlegenden, no. 1, pp. 465-68. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der heilige Joseph im Walde,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), Kinderlegenden, no. 1, pp. 465-68.","However, the guardian angel that watches over every pious child never left her and always showed her the way home. But one time the guardian angel pretended to not be close at hand, and the child was unable to find her way out of the woods. She walked on and on until nightfall, when she saw a light burning in the distance. She walked toward it, finally coming to a small hut. She knocked on the door, and it opened. Coming to a second door, she knocked there as well. An old man opened the door for her. He had a snow-white beard and looked very venerable. He was none other than Saint Joseph. Very friendlily he said, 'Come, dear child, take a seat on my chair by the fire and warm yourself while I get you some fresh water, if you are thirsty; but here in the forest I have nothing for you to eat except a few roots, which you must first scrape and then cook.' Saint Joseph handed her the roots, which she scraped clean. Then she brought forth the little piece of pancake and the bread that her mother had given her. Putting everything together into a pot next to the fire, she cooked some porridge for herself. When it was ready Saint Joseph said, 'I am hungry. Give me some of your meal.' The child was happy to do so, and gave him more than what she kept for herself, but God's blessing was with her, and she had all that she wanted to eat. After they had eaten, Saint Joseph said, 'Let us go to bed now. I have only one bed. You can sleep in it and I'll lie down on some straw on the floor.' 'No,' she answered. 'You sleep in your bed. The straw is soft enough for me.' However, Saint Joseph took the child into his arms and carried her to the bed. She said her prayers and fell asleep. The next morning when she awoke she wanted to say 'good morning' to Saint Joseph, but she did not see him. She got up and looked everywhere for him but could not find him in any corner. Finally she saw a bag of money behind the door, so heavy that she could barely carry it. On it was written that it was for the child who had slept there that night. She took the bag and returned to her mother with it. And because she gave all the money to her mother, the mother had to be satisfied with her. The next day the second child wanted to go into the woods as well. The mother gave her a much larger piece of pancake and bread. The same thing happened to her as with the first child. In the evening she came to Saint Joseph's hut, and he gave her some roots for porridge. When it was ready he said to her, as before, 'I am hungry. Give me some of your meal.' The child answered, 'Share with me.' Afterward when Saint Joseph offered her his bed, saying that he would sleep on some straw, she said, 'No, let's sleep in the bed together. There is plenty of room for both of us.' Saint Joseph took her into his arms and laid her on the bed, then he himself slept on the straw. In the morning the child awoke and looked for Saint Joseph, but he had disappeared. Behind the door she found a bag of money. It was as long as a hand, and on it was written that it was for the child who had slept there that night. She ran home with it and gave it to her mother; however, she secretly kept a few coins for herself. Now the oldest daughter had become very curious, so the next morning she too wanted to go into the woods. The mother gave her as many pancakes as she wanted, as well as bread and cheese. In the evening she found Saint Joseph in his hut just as the other two had done. When the porridge was ready Saint Joseph said, 'I am hungry. Give me some of your meal.' She answered, 'Just wait until I am full, then you can have whatever is left over.' She ate nearly everything, and Saint Joseph had to scrape off the leftovers from the bowl. Afterward the good old man offered her his bed, saying that he would sleep on some straw. This she freely accepted, and let the old man sleep on the hard floor. The next morning when she awoke, Saint Joseph was nowhere to be seen, but she was not at all concerned about him. She looked behind the door for the moneybag. She thought that something was lying there on the floor, but unable to see what it was, she bent down until she touched it with her nose. It stuck to her nose, and when she straightened up she saw to her fright that it was a second nose. She began to cry and the howl, but nothing helped. She had to look at her nose, which stuck out far from her face. Crying out, she ran away. She finally came to Saint Joseph. She fell at his feet and begged him so long that he finally took pity and removed the nose; then he even gave her a few pennies. When she arrived at home the mother asked, 'What gift did you receive?' She lied, saying, 'A large bag filled with money, but I lost it on the way home.' 'Lost!' cried the mother. 'Then we'll go and find it!' She took the child by the hand and wanted to look for the money. The child began to cry and did not want to go, but finally they went off together. On the way they were approached by so many lizards and snakes that they did not know how to escape. The lizards and snakes bit the child until she died, and they also bit the mother in the foot, because she had not better brought up the child.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Bald Wife,India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Lal Behari Day, xxx (London: Macmillan and Company, 1883), no. 22, pp. 280-84. Source (Internet Archive): Lal Behari Day, Folk-Tales of Bengal (London: Macmillan and Company, 1883), no. 22, pp. 280-84.","A certain man had two wives, the younger of whom he loved more than the elder. The younger wife had two tufts of hair on her head, and the elder only one. The man went to a distant town for merchandise; so the two wives lived together in the house. But they hated each other; the younger one, who was her husband's favourite, ill-treated the other. She made her do all the menial work in the house; rebuked her all day and night; and did not give her enough to eat. One day the younger wife said to the elder, 'Come and take away all the lice from the hair of my head.'' While the elder wife was searching among the younger one's hair for the vermin, one lock of hair by chance gave way; on which the younger one, mightily incensed, tore off the single tuft that was on the head of the elder wife, and drove her away from the house. The elder wife, now become completely bald, determined to go into the forest, and there either die of starvation or be devoured by some wild beast. On her way she passed by a cotton plant. She stopped near it, made for herself a broom with some sticks which lay about, and swept clean the ground round about the plant. The plant was much pleased, and gave her a blessing. She wended on her way, and now saw a plantain tree. She swept the ground round about the plantain tree, which, being pleased with her, gave her a blessing. As she went on she saw the shed of a Brahmani bull. As the shed was very dirty, she swept the place clean, on which the bull, being much pleased, blessed her. She next saw a tulasi plant, bowed herself down before it, and cleaned the place round about, on which the plant gave her a blessing. As she was going on in her journey she saw a hut made of branches of trees and leaves, and near it a man sitting cross-legged, apparently absorbed in meditation. She stood for a moment behind the venerable muni. 'Whoever you may be,' he said, 'come before me; do not stand behind me; if you do, I will reduce you to ashes.' The woman, trembling with fear, stood before the muni. 'What is your petition?' asked the muni. 'Father Muni,' answered the woman, 'thou knowest how miserable I am, since thou art all-knowing. My husband does not love me, and his other wife, having torn off the only tuft of hair on my head, has driven me away from the house. Have pity upon me, Father Muni!' The muni, continuing sitting, said, 'Go into the tank which you see yonder. Plunge into the water only once, and then come to me again.' The woman went to the tank, washed in it, and plunged into the water only once, according to the bidding of the muni. When she got out of the water, what a change was seen in her! Her head was full of jet black hair, which was so long that it touched her heels; her complexion had become perfectly fair; and she looked young and beautiful Filled with joy and gratitude, she went to the muni, and bowed herself to the ground. The muni said to her, 'Rise, woman. Go inside the hut, and you will find a number of wicker baskets, and bring out any you like.' The woman went into the hut, and selected a modest-looking basket. The muni said, 'Open the basket.' She opened it, and found it filled with ingots of gold, pearls and all sorts of precious stones. The muni said, 'Woman, take that basket with you. It will never get empty. When you take away the present contents their room will be supplied by another set, and that by another, and that by another, and the basket will never become empty. Daughter, go in peace.' The woman bowed herself down to the ground in profound but silent gratitude, and went away. As she was returning homewards with the basket in her hand, she passed by the tulasi plant whose bottom she had swept. The tulasi plant said to her, 'Go in peace, child! Thy husband will love thee warmly.' She next came to the shed of the Brahmani bull, who gave her two shell ornaments which were twined round its horns, saying, 'Daughter, take these shells, put them on your wrists, and whenever you shake either of them you will get whatever ornaments you wish to obtain.' She then came to the plantain tree, which gave her one of its broad leaves, saying, 'Take, child, this leaf; and when you move it you will get not only all sorts of delicious plantains, but all kinds of agreeable food.' She came last of all to the cotton plant, which gave her one of its own branches, saying, 'Daughter, take this branch; and when you shake it you will got not only all sorts of cotton clothes, but also of silk and purple. Shake it now in my presence.' She shook the branch, and a fabric of the finest glossy silk fell on her lap. She put on that silk cloth, and wended on her way with the shells on her wrists, and the basket and the branch and the leaf in her hands. The younger wife was standing at the door of her house, when she saw a beautiful woman approach her. She could scarcely believe her eyes. What a change! The old, bald hag turned into the very Queen of Beauty herself! The elder wife, now grown rich and beautiful, treated the younger wife with kindness. She gave her fine clothes, costly ornaments, and the richest viands. But all to no purpose. The younger wife envied the beauty and hair of her associate. Having heard that she got it all from Father Muni in the forest, she determined to go there. Accordingly she started on her journey. She saw the cotton plant, but did nothing to it; she passed by the plantain tree, the shed of the Brahmani bull, and the tulasi plant, without taking any notice of them. She approached the muni. The muni told her to bathe in the tank, and plunge only once into the water. She gave one plunge, at which she got a glorious head of hair and a beautifully fair complexion. She thought a second plunge would make her still more beautiful. Accordingly she plunged into the water again, and came out as bald and ugly as before. She came to the muni, and wept. The sage drove her away, saying, 'Be off, you disobedient woman. You will get no boon from me.' She went back to her house mad with grief. The lord of the two women returned from his travels, and was struck with the long locks and beauty of his first wife. He loved her dearly; and when he saw her secret and untold resources and her incredible wealth, he almost adored her. They lived together happily for many years, and had for their maid-servant the younger woman, who had been formerly his best beloved. Here my story endeth.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Bucket,Italy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 26, pp. 100-102. Source (Internet Archive): Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 26, pp. 100-102.","She said one day to the bad one: 'Go and draw a bucket of water.' The bad one did not want to go, and so she would not obey her mother. The good daughter, however, said: 'I will go and draw it.' She went to draw the water, and the bucket fell down the well. She said: 'If I go home now without the bucket, who knows what my mother will do to me?' So she climbed down the well, and at the bottom found a narrow passage, with a door. She knocked at the door. 'Have you not found a cord and bucket?' There was a saint there, who answered: 'No, my child.' She continued her way and found another door. 'Have you not found a cord and bucket?' 'No!' That was the devil there. He answered her angrily because she was a good girl; he did not say: 'My child.' She knocked at another door. 'Have you not found a cord and bucket?' It was the Madonna who replied: 'Yes, my child. Listen. You could do me a pleasure to stay here while I am away. I have my little son here, to whom you will give his soup; you will sweep and put the house in order. When I come home I will give you your bucket.' The Madonna went away, and the good girl put the house in order, gave the child his broth, swept the house; and while she was sweeping, instead of finding dirt, she found coral and other beautiful things. She saw that it was not dirt, and put it aside to give the Madonna when she returned. When the Madonna came back, she asked: 'Have you done all I told you to do?' The good girl answered: 'Yes, but I have kept these things here; I found them on the ground; it is not dirt.' 'Very well; keep them for yourself. Would you like a dress of calico, or one of silk?' The girl answered: 'No, no! a calico dress.' Instead of that, the Madonna gave her the silk one. 'Do you wish a brass thimble, or a silver one?' 'Give me the brass one.' 'No, take the silver thimble. Here is the bucket and your cord. When you reach the end of this passage, look up in the air.' The girl did so, and a beautiful star fell on her brow. She went home, and her mother ran to meet her to scold her for being away so long; and was about to strike her, when she saw the star on her brow, which shone so that it was beautiful to see, and said: 'Where have you been until now? Who put that thing on your forehead?' The girl answered: 'I don't know what there is there.' Her mother tried to wash it away, but instead of disappearing, it shone more beautiful than ever. Then the girl told what had happened to her, and the other sister wished to go there, too. She went, and did the same as her sister. She let the bucket fall, climbed down, and knocked at the saint's door. 'Have you not found a cord and bucket?' 'No, my child.' She knocked at the next door. 'Have you not found a cord and bucket?' The devil answered: 'No, I have not found them; but come here, my child, come here.' But when she heard that he had not found her bucket, she said: 'No, I will go on.' She knocked at the Madonna's door. 'Have you not found a cord and bucket?' The Madonna said that she had. 'I am going away: you will give my son his broth, and then you will sweep. When I return I will give you your bucket.' Instead of giving the broth to the child, the bad girl ate it herself. 'Oh!' she said, 'how good it was!' She swept and found a great deal of dirt. 'Oh, poor me! My sister found so many pretty things!' The Madonna returned. 'Have you done what I told you?' 'Yes.' 'Do you wish the brass or silver thimble?' 'Oh! I want the silver one!' She gave her the brass one. 'Do you want the calico dress or the silk one?' 'Give me the silk dress.' She gave her the calico dress. 'Here is your bucket and cord. When you are out of here, look up into the air.' When she was out she looked up into the air and there fell on her forehead a lump of dirt that soiled her whole face. She went home in a rage to weep and scold her sister because she had had the star, while she had that dirt on her face. Her mother began to wash her face and rub it; and the more she did so the less the dirt went away. Then the mother said: 'I understand; the Madonna has done this to show me that I loved the bad girl and neglected the good one.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Fairies,"France, Charles Perrault",Link to the text in French: Les fées.,"Source (books.google.com): Charles Perrault, Tales of Passed Times (London: J. M. Dent and Company, 1900), pp. 55-60. Source (Internet Archive): Charles Perrault, Tales of Passed Times (London: J. M. Dent and Company, 1900), pp. 55-60.","There was once a widow who had two daughters. The elder was so like her mother in temper and face, that to have seen the one was to have seen the other. They were both so disagreeable and proud, that it was impossible to live with them. The younger, who was the exact portrait of her father in her kindly and polite ways, was also as beautiful a girl as one could see. As we are naturally fond of those who resemble us, the mother doted on her elder daughter, while for the younger she had a most violent aversion, and made her take her meals in the kitchen and work hard all day. Among other things that she was obliged to do, this poor child was forced to go twice a day to fetch water from a place a mile or more from the house, and carry back a large jug ?lled to the brim. As she was standing one day by this spring, a poor woman came up to her, and asked the girl to give her some water to drink. 'Certainly, my good woman,' she replied, and the beautiful girl at once stooped and rinsed out the jug, and then, ?lling it with water from the clearest part of the spring, she held it up to the woman, continuing to support the jug, that she might drink with greater comfort. Having drunk, the woman said to her, 'You are so beautiful, so good and kind, that I cannot refrain from conferring a gift upon you,' for she was really a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor village woman, in order to see how far the girl's kind heartedness would go. 'This gift I make you,' continued the fairy, 'that with every word you speak, either a ?ower or a precious stone will fall from your mouth.' The girl had no sooner reached home than her mother began scolding her for being back so late. 'I am sorry, mother,' said she, 'to have been out so long,' and as she spoke, there fell from her mouth two roses, two pearls, and two large diamonds. The mother gazed at her in astonishment. 'What do I see!' she exclaimed, ' Pearls and diamonds seem to be dropping from her mouth! How is this, my daughter?' It was the ?rst time she had called her daughter. The poor child related in all simplicity what had happened, letting fall quantities of diamonds in the course of her narrative. 'I must certainly send my other daughter there,' said the mother. 'Look, Fanchon, see what falls from your sister's mouth when she speaks! Would you not be glad to receive a similar gift? All you have to do, is to go and fetch water from the spring, and if an old woman asks you for some to drink, to give it her nicely and politely.' 'I should like to see myself going to the spring,' answered the rude, cross girl. ' I insist on your going,' rejoined the mother, 'and that at once.' The elder girl went off, still grumbling; with her she took the handsomest silver bottle she could ?nd in the house. She had no sooner arrived at the spring, than she saw a lady magni?cently dressed walking towards her from the wood, who approached and asked for some water to drink. It was the same fairy who had appeared to the sister, but she had now put on the airs and apparel of a princess, as she wished to see how far this girl's rudeness would go. 'Do you think I came here just to draw water for you?' answered the arrogant and unmannerly girl; 'I have, of course, brought this silver bottle on purpose for madam to drink from! Well, all I have to say is -- drink from it if you like.' 'You are scarcely polite,' said the fairy, without losing her temper; 'however, as you are so disobliging, I confer this gift upon you, that with every word you speak, a snake or a toad shall fall from your mouth.' Directly her mother caught sight of her, she called out, 'Well, my daughter!' 'Well, my mother!' replied the ill-tempered girl, throwing out as she spoke two vipers and two toads. 'Alack!' cried the mother, 'What do I see? This is her sister's doing, but I will pay her out for it,' and, so saying, she ran towards the younger girl with intent to beat her. The unhappy girl ?ed from the house, and went and hid herself in a neighbouring forest. The king's son, who was returning from hunting, met her, and seeing how beautiful she was, asked her what she was doing there all alone, and why she was crying. 'Alas! sir, my mother has driven me from home.' The king's son, seeing ?ve or six pearls and as many diamonds, falling from her mouth as she spoke, asked her to explain how this was, and she told him all her tale. The king's son fell in love with her, and thinking that such a gift as she possessed was worth more than any ordinary dower brought by another, he carried her off to his father's palace, and there married her. As for her sister, she made herself so hated, that her own mother drove her from the house. The miserable girl, having gone about in vain trying to ?nd someone who would take her in, crept away into the corner of a wood, and there died. Of higher worth are gentle words Than diamonds or gold, And even o'er the minds of men A great power they hold. It costs some pains to be polite, And needs some kindly thought, But soon or late, as here you see, Reward will come unsought.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Old Witch,England,"Note by Jacobs (p. 230): Source: Collected by Mrs. Gomme at Deptford. Parallels: I have a dim memory of hearing a similar tale in Australia in 1860. It is clearly parallel with the Grimms' ''Frau Holle,' where the good girl is rewarded and the bad punished in a similar way. Perrault's 'Toads and Diamonds' is of the same genus.","Source (books.google.com): Joseph Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 94-98. Source (Internet Archive): Joseph Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 94-98.","Well, she went all about the town, but no one wanted a girl like her. So she went on farther into the country, and she came to a place where there was an oven where there was lots of bread baking. And the bread said, 'Little girl, little girl, take us out, take us out. We have been baking seven years, and no one has come to take us out.' So the girl took out the bread, laid it on the ground, and went on her way. Then she met a cow, and the cow said, 'Little girl, little girl, milk me, milk me! Seven years have I been waiting, and no one has come to milk me.' The girl milked the cow into the pails that stood by. As she was thirsty she drank some, and left the rest in the pails by the cow. Then she went on a little bit farther, and came to an apple-tree, so loaded with fruit that its branches were breaking down, and the tree said, 'Little girl, little girl, help me shake my fruit. My branches are breaking, it is so heavy.' And the girl said, 'Of course I will, you poor tree.' So she shook the fruit all off, propped up the branches, and left the fruit on the ground under the tree. Then she went on again till she came to a house. Now in this house there lived a witch, and this witch took girls into her house as servants. And when she heard that this girl had left her home to seek service, she said that she would try her, and give her good wages. The witch told the girl what work she was to do. 'You must keep the house clean and tidy, sweep the floor and the fireplace; but there is one thing you must never do. You must never look up the chimney, or something bad will befall you.' So the girl promised to do as she was told, but one morning as she was cleaning, and the witch was out, she forgot what the witch said, and looked up the chimney. When she did this a great bag of money fell down in her lap. This happened again and again. So the girl started to go off home. When she had gone some way she heard the witch coming after her. So she ran to the apple-tree and cried: When the witch had gone down another way, the girl went on again, and just as she got to the cow she heard the witch coming after her again, so she ran to the cow and cried: When the old witch came up, she looked about and said to the cow: When the witch had gone off another way, the little girl went on again, and when she was near the oven she heard the witch coming after her again, so she ran to the oven and cried: And the baker hid her behind the oven. When the witch came up she looked here and there and everywhere, and then said to the baker: The old witch went to look, and the oven said, 'Get in and look in the furthest corner.' The witch did so, and when she was inside the oven shut her door, and the witch was kept there for a very long time. The girl then went off again, and reached her home with her money bags, married a rich man, and lived happy ever afterwards. The other sister then thought she would go and do the same. And she went the same way. But when she reached the oven, and the bread said, 'Little girl, little girl, take us out. Seven years have we been baking, and no one has come to take us out.' The girl said, 'No, I don't want to burn my fingers.' So she went on till she met the cow, and the cow said, 'Little girl, little girl, milk me, milk me, do. Seven years have I been waiting, and no one has come to milk me.' But the girl said, 'No, I can't milk you, I'm in a hurry,' and went on faster. Then she came to the apple-tree, and the apple- tree asked her to help shake the fruit. But the girl said, 'No, I can't; another day p'raps I may,' and went on till she came to the witch's house. Well, it happened to her just the same as to the other girl -- she forgot what she was told, and one day when the witch was out, looked up the chimney, and down fell a bag of money. Well, she thought she would be off at once. When she reached the apple-tree, she heard the witch coming after her, and she cried: Presently the witch came up and said: So the old witch went after her and caught her, she took all the money away from her, beat her, and sent her off home just as she was. Parallels: I have a dim memory of hearing a similar tale in Australia in 1860. It is clearly parallel with the Grimms' ''Frau Holle,' where the good girl is rewarded and the bad punished in a similar way. Perrault's 'Toads and Diamonds' is of the same genus.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Old Woman and the Two Servant Girls,England,"Henderson's source: 'The following remarkable story, communicated to me by Mr. Joseph Crawhall, was taken down from the lips of an old inhabitant of Newcastle-on-Tyne. The old man said he had known it all his life, and there can be little doubt that it is an ancient tale of that place.' Henderson does not give this story a title.","Source (books.google.com): William Henderson, Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders: A New Edition with Many Additional Notes (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1879), pp. 349-50. Source (Internet Archive): William Henderson, Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders: A New Edition with Many Additional Notes (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1879), pp. 349-50.","As she went along she came to a gate, which spoke, and said to her, 'Pretty maiden, will you open me, for I have not been opened for many a year?' 'Open yourself,' said the girl. 'I have no time to open you.' So she went on, and came to a cow, and the cow said, 'Pretty maiden, stop and milk em, for I have not been milked for many a day.' 'Milk yourself,' said the girl. 'I have no time to milk you.' So she went on, and came to a mill, and the mill said, 'Pretty maiden, will you turn me, for I have not been turned for many a day.' 'Turn yourself,' said the girl. 'I have no time to turn you.' By this time the girl began to get tired, so he hid the bag in the mill hopper. When the old woman got up in the morning, and missed the girl, she went straight to the chimney, and found her money was gone. So she set off directly after the girl, and when she came to the gate she said, 'Gate o' mine, gate o' mine, have you seen a maid o' mine, with a ji-jaller bag, and a long leather bag, with all the money in that ever I had?' And the gate said, 'Further on.' Then she went on and came to the cow, of whom she asked the same question, and got the same answer. And she went on and came to the mill, and said, 'Mill o' mine, have you seen a maid o' mine, with a ji-jaller bag, and a long leather bag, with all the money in it that e'er I had?' And the mill said, 'Down the mill hopper.' So the old woman got her money again, and soon she hired a new girl, and told her the very same things she had told the first. The new girl did just like the first, and ran away. But when she came to the gate she opened it, and when she came to the cow she milked it, and when she came to the mill she turned it. So when the old woman went after the girl, and asked the gate, the cow, and the mill whether they had seen her, there was no answer, and the girl got away with the bag of money.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Three Gifts,Poland,No author is given; the foreword is signed 'C. J. T.' This story combines a tale of type 480 'The Kind and the Unkind Girls' with a tale of type 403 'The Counterfeit Bride.',"Source (books.google.com): [Charles John Tibbits], Folk-Lore and Legends: Russian and Polish (London: W. W. Gibbings, 1890), pp. 9-21. Source (Internet Archive): [Charles John Tibbits], Folk-Lore and Legends: Russian and Polish (London: W. W. Gibbings, 1890), pp. 9-21.","A very rich widow had three children, a stepson, a fine young fellow, a stepdaughter of wonderful beauty, and a daughter who was not so bad. The three children lived under the same roof, and took their meals together. At length the time came when the children were treated very differently. Although the widow's daughter was bad-tempered, obstinate, vain, and a chatterer, her mother loved her passionately, praised her, and covered her with caresses. She was favoured in every way. The stepson, who was a good-natured lad, and who did all kinds of work, was for ever grumbled at, checked, and treated like a sluggard. As for the stepdaughter, who was so wonderfully pretty, and who had the disposition of an angel, she was tormented, worried, and ill-treated in a thousand ways. Between her sister and her stepmother her life was made miser able. It is natural that one should love one's own children better than those of other folk; but it is only right that liking and disliking should be indulged in with moderation. The evil stepmother, however, loved her child to distraction, and equally detested her stepchildren. To such a pitch did she carry these feelings that when she was angry she used to say how she would advance the fortune of her daughter even at the orphans' expense. An old proverb says, 'Man sets the ball rolling, but Heaven directs it,' and we shall see what happened. One Sunday morning the stepdaughter, before going to church, went out into the garden to pluck some flowers to place on the altar. She had gathered some roses, when, on lifting up her eyes, she saw, right in front of her, three young men who sat upon a grassy bank. They were clothed in garments of dazzling white which shone like sun shine. Near by them was an old man, who came and asked the girl for alms. The girl was a little frightened when she saw the three men, but when the old man came to her she took her last piece of money out of her pocket and gave it to him. The poor man thanked her, put the piece of money into his bag, and, laying his hand on the girl's head, said to the young men: 'You see this little orphan; she is good and patient in suffering, and has so much pity for the poor that she gives them even the last penny she has. What do you wish for her?' The first one said: 'I wish that when she cries her tears may turn to pearls.' 'I wish,' said the second, 'that when she laughs the most delicately perfumed roses may fall from her lips.' 'And I,' said the third, 'wish that when she touches water golden fish spring up in it.' 'So shall it be,' said the old man, and he and his companions vanished. When the girl saw that, she gave thanks to Heaven, and ran joyfully into the house. Hardly had she entered when her stepmother met her and gave her a slap on the face, saying: 'Where are you running to?' The poor girl began to cry, but behold! Instead of tears, pearls fell from her eyes. The stepmother forgot her rage, and set herself to gather them up as quickly as possible. The girl could not help laughing at the sight, and from her lips there fell roses of such a delightful scent that the stepmother was beside herself with pleasure. After that the girl, wishing to preserve the flowers she had plucked in the garden, poured some water into a glass: as soon as she touched the water with her finger, it was filled with beautiful golden fish. From that time the same things never failed to happen. The girl's tears turned to pearls, when she laughed roses, which did not die, fell from her lips; and water which she only touched with her little finger became filled with golden fish. The stepmother became better disposed towards her, and by little and little learned from her the secret of how she had obtained these gifts. On the following Sunday she sent her own daughter into the garden to pluck flowers as if for the altar. Hardly had the girl gathered some roses, when, lifting up her eyes, she saw the three young men sitting on a grassy bank, beautiful, and shining like the sun, and by them was the old man, clad in white, who asked her for alms. When she saw the young men, the girl pretended to be afraid, but when the old man spoke to her, she ran to him, took out of her pocket a gold piece, looked hard at it, and then gave it to him, but evidently very much against her will. The old man put the money in his bag, and said to the three others: 'You see this girl who is her mother's spoilt child? She is bad-tempered, wicked, and is hard hearted as regards the poor. We know very well why she has been so charitable, for the first time in her life, today. Tell me then what you wish for her.' The first said: 'I wish that when she cries her tears may change to lizards.' 'I,' said the second, ' wish that when she laughs, hideous toads may fall from her lips.' 'And I,' said the third, 'wish that when she touches water with her hand it may be filled with serpents.' 'It shall be as you wish,' said the old man, and he and his companions disappeared. The girl was terrified, and ran into the house to tell her mother what had happened. All occurred as had been said. When she laughed toads sprang from her lips, when she cried her tears changed to lizards, and when she touched water it became full of serpents. The stepmother did not know what to do. She paid greater attention than ever to her daughter, and hated the orphans more and more, and so tormented them that the lad, not being able to put up with it, took leave of his sister, praying Heaven to guard her, and, leaving his stepmother's house, set out to seek his fortune. The wide world was before him. He knew not where to go, but he knew that Heaven, that sees all men, watches over the orphans. He prayed, and then walking down to the burial-ground where slept his father and mother, he knelt at the grave. He wept and prayed for a time, and having kissed the earth which covered them three times, he rose and prepared to set out on his journey. All of a sudden he felt, in the folds of his dress on his bosom, something he had not perceived there before. He put his hand up, and was so astonished that he could scarcely believe his eyes, for he found there a charming little picture of his much-loved sister, surrounded by pearls, roses, and little golden fish. Delighted at the sight, he kissed the picture, looked around the burial-ground once more, made the sign of the cross, and set out on his way. A story is soon told, but events move slowly. After many adventures of little importance he came to the capital of a kingdom situated on the seashore. There he sought to obtain a living, and he was not unsuccessful, for he was engaged to look after the king's garden, and was both well fed and well paid. This good fortune did not, however, make him forget his poor sister, about whom he was much troubled. When he had a moment to himself, he would sit down in some quiet spot and look at his picture, sometimes melting into tears, for he looked upon the portrait of his sister as a precious legacy given to him by his parents at their grave. One day while the lad sat thus by a brook, the king saw him, and creeping up to him from behind very softly, he looked over his shoulder at the likeness that the young man was regarding so attentively. 'Give me the portrait,' said the king. The lad gave it to him. The king looked at it and was delighted. 'Never,' said he, 'in all my life did I see such a beautiful girl, never have I heard of such a one, never did I dream there was such. Tell me, does she live?' The lad burst into tears, and told the king that the picture was the portrait of his sister, who some time ago had been so favoured by Heaven that when she cried her tears became pearls, when she laughed roses sprang from her lips, and when she touched water it was filled with golden fish. The king ordered him to write at once to his stepmother, to tell her to send her lovely step daughter to his palace, where the king waited to make her his wife. On the occasion of his marriage he declared he would heap rewards on the stepmother and on the brother of his bride. The lad wrote the letter, and the king sent a servant with it. A story is quickly told, but events move slowly. After she had read the letter, the stepmother did not show it to the orphan, but to her own daughter. So they plotted together, and the stepmother went to an old sorceress to consult her, and to be instructed in magic. She then set out with her two daughters. As they came near to the capital of the king's dominions, in a place near to the sea, the stepmother suddenly threw the stepdaughter out of the carriage, muttered some magic words, and spat three times behind her. All at once the poor girl became very little, covered with feathers, and changed into a wild duck. She commenced to cackle, threw herself into the sea, just as ducks do, and began to swim about there. The stepmother dismissed her with these words: 'By the force of my hate, I have done what I wished! Swim away upon the shore like a duck, happy in liberty, and in the meantime my daughter, clothed in your beauty, shall marry the king, and enjoy all that was meant for you.' Hardly had she finished these words when her daughter found herself clothed in all the charms of the unfortunate girl. So they went on their way, came to the palace, which they reached at the time named in the letter, and there the king received the daughter from the hands of the treacherous step mother, in place of the orphan. After the marriage, the stepmother, loaded with presents, returned to her home. The king, looking upon his wife, could not imagine how it was that he did not feel that love and tenderness that had been aroused in him at the sight of the portrait. However, there was no remedy, what was done was done. Heaven sees one, and knows of what malady one shall die, and what woman one shall marry! The king admired his wife's beauty, and thought of the pleasure he would have when he saw the pearls drop from her eyes, the roses from her lips, and the golden fish spring up in the water she touched. During the feast, however, the queen chanced to laugh at her husband, and a mass of hideous toads sprang forth! The king ran off quickly. Then the queen commenced to cry, and instead of pearls, lizards dropped from her eyes. An attendant presented a basin of water to her, but she had no sooner dipped the tip of her finger in the water than it became a mass of serpents, which began to hiss and dart into the middle of the wedding party. Every one was afraid, and all was in confusion. The guards were at last called in, and by their aid the hall was cleared of the horrible reptiles. The king had gone into the garden, where he met with the orphan lad; and so enraged was the king at the trick that he thought had been played him, that he gave the lad a blow on the head with his stick. The poor lad, falling down upon the ground, died at once. The queen came running to the king, sobbing, and, taking him by the hand, said: 'What have you done? You have killed my brother, who was altogether guiltless. Is it his fault or mine that, since I have been married to you, I have lost the wonderful powers I once had? They will come back again in time, but time will not bring my brother to me more.' 'Pardon me, my dear wife,' said the king. 'In a moment of rage I thought he had betrayed me, and I wished to punish him. I am sorry for what I have done; now, however, it is beyond recall. Forgive me, and I forgive you with all my heart.' 'I pardon you,' said the queen, 'but I beg you to order that my brother shall be honourably buried.' The queen's wish was carried out. The poor lad, who was thought to be the queen's brother, was put in a fine coffin, and laid on a magnificent catafalque in the church. When night came on a guard of honour was placed around the coffin and at the gates to watch till morning. Towards midnight the doors of the church opened of their own accord and without any noise, and, at the same moment, an irresistible drowsiness came over the soldiers, who all went to sleep. A pretty little wild duck entered, stopped in the middle of the church, shook its feathers, of which it freed itself one by one, and there stood the orphan girl in her former shape. She approached the coffin of her brother, and shed very many tears over him, which all changed to pearls. After she had wept for some time, she reassumed the feathers once more, and went out. When the guards awoke, great was their surprise to find a number of beautiful pearls on the coffin. The next day they told the king how the gates of the church had opened of themselves at midnight, how an irresistible desire to sleep had overtaken them, and how the pearls had been dis covered upon the coffin. The king was surprised at their story, and more so when he saw the pearls. He doubled the guard, and told them to watch more carefully the second night. At the same time the doors opened again of themselves, and the soldiers again fell asleep. The wild duck entered, shook off its feathers, and became the lovely girl. At the sight of the double guard, all of them fast asleep, she could not help laughing, and beautiful roses fell from her lips. As she approached her brother her tears broke forth and fell in a shower of pearls to the ground. At length she took her feathers again and flew away. When the guards awoke they collected the roses and pearls and took them to the king, who was now more surprised than before, seeing not only the pearls but the roses also. He again doubled the guards, and he threatened them with the most severe punishment if they did not keep awake. They did their best, but all was of no use. At the end of their nap on the third night they found not only pearls and roses, but also golden fish swimming in the church font. The king was now very much astonished, and began to think that there must be some magic in the matter. When night came on he again doubled the number of the guards, and hid himself in the chapel, after having put up a mirror in which he could see everything reflected without being himself seen. At midnight the doors opened of themselves, the soldiers dropt their arms, lay down on the ground, and fell fast asleep. The king did not take his eyes off the mirror, and he saw a little wild duck enter, and look timidly around it. When it saw the guards all asleep it seemed to take courage, and came into the middle of the church. Then it cast off its feathers and became a girl of extraordinary loveliness. The king was trans ported with joy and wonder, and felt that this must be his true bride. When she had come to the coffin the king rushed forward with a wax taper in his hand and set fire to the feathers, the flame leaping up and waking the guards. When the girl saw what was done she ran to the king wringing her hands, while pearls dropped from her eyes. 'What have you done?' she cried. 'How shall I now escape the fury of my stepmother, by whose magic arts I was turned into a wild duck?' Then she told the king all, and he at once ordered some of his guards to seize the woman who had so treacherously married him, and to conduct her out of the kingdom. He also sent some soldiers to take the stepmother and burn her as a sorceress. While the king gave these orders the girl took from her bosom three little vessels, which she had brought with her from the sea, full of different liquids. She sprinkled the liquid in one of them over her brother, and he became supple and warm; his cheeks took their colour again, and the warm red blood began to run from his wound. His sister sprinkled him again with the second liquid, which had the property of healing, and his wound at once closed. She sprinkled him the third time with the water which had the property of calling back to life. The young man opened his eyes, looked on his sister with astonishment, and threw himself, full of happiness, into her arms. At the sight of this the king was overjoyed. He took the young man by the hand, and, leading his sister, the three went to the palace. In a short time he married his true bride, and he lived happily with her and her brother for many years.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Three Heads of the Well,England,"Note by Halliwell: 'This story is abridged from the old chap-book of the Three Kings of Colchester. The incident of the heads rising out of the well is very similar to one introduced in Peele's Old Wives Tale, 1595. and the verse is also of a similar character.'","Source (books.google.com): James Orchard Halliwell, Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to the Nursery Rhymes of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1849), pp. 39-43. Source (Internet Archive): James Orchard Halliwell, Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to the Nursery Rhymes of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1849), pp. 39-43.","Long before Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, there reigned in the eastern part of England a king who kept his court at Colchester. He was witty, strong, and valiant, by which means he subdued his enemies abroad, and secured peace among his subjects at home. Nevertheless, in the midst of his glory, his queen died, leaving behind her an only daughter, about fifteen years of age. This lady, from her courtly carriage, beauty, and affability, was the wonder of all that knew her; but, as covetousness is said to be the root of all evil, so it happened in this instance. The king hearing of a lady who had likewise an only daughter, for the sake of her riches had a mind to marry; though she was old, ugly, hook-nosed, and humpbacked, yet all this could not deter him from marrying her. Her daughter, also, was a yellow dowdy, full of envy and ill-nature; and, in short, was much of the same mould as her mother. This signified nothing, for in a few weeks the king, attended by the nobility and gentry, brought his intended bride to his palace, where the marriage rites were performed. They had not been long in the court before they set the king against his own beautiful daughter, which was done by false reports and accusations. The young princess, having lost her father's love, grew weary of the court, and one day meeting with her father in the garden, she desired him, with tears in her eyes, to give her a small subsistence, and she would go and seek her fortune; to which the king consented, and ordered her mother-in-law [stepmother] to make up a small sum according to her discretion. She went to the queen, who gave her a canvas bag of brown bread and hard cheese, with a bottle of beer; though this was but a very pitiful dowry for a king's daughter. She took it, returned thanks, and proceeded on her journey, passing through groves, woods, and valleys, till at length she saw an old man sitting on a stone at the mouth of a cave, who said, 'Good morrow, fair maiden, whither away so fast?' 'Aged father,' says she, 'I am going to seek my fortune.' 'What has thou in thy bag and bottle?' 'In my bag I have got bread and cheese, and in my bottle good small beer; will you please to partake of either?' 'Yes,' said he, 'with all my heart.' With that the lady pulled out her provisions, and bid him eat and welcome. He did so, and gave her many thanks, saying thus: 'There is a thick thorny hedge before you, which will appear impassable, but take this wand in your hand, strike three times, and say, 'Pray, hedge, let me come through,' and it will open immediately; then, a little further, you will find a well; sit down on the brink of it, and there will come up three golden heads, which will speak. Pray do whatever they require.' Promising she would follow his directions, she took her leave of him. Arriving at the hedge, and pursuing the old man's directions, it divided, and gave her a passage; then, going to the well, she had no sooner sat down than a golden head came up singing: Wash me, and comb me, And lay me down softly, And lay me on a bank to dry, That I may look pretty, When somebody comes by. 'Yes,' said she, and putting forth her hand, with a silver comb performed the office, placing it upon a primrose bank. Then came up a second and a third head, making the same request, which she complied with. She then pulled out her provisions and ate her dinner. Then said the heads one to another, 'What shall we do for this lady who hath used us so kindly?' The first said, 'I will cause such addition to her beauty as shall charm the most powerful prince in the world.' The second said, 'I will endow her with such perfume, both in body and breath, as shall far exceed the sweetest flowers.' The third said, 'My gift shall be none of the least, for, as she is a king's daughter, I'll make her so fortunate that she shall become queen to the greatest prince that reigns.' This done, at their request she let them down into the well again, and so proceeded on her journey. She had not travelled long before she saw a king hunting in the park with his nobles; she would have avoided him, but the king having caught a sight of her, approached, and what with her beauty and perfumed breath, was so powerfully smitten, that he was not able to subdue his passion, but commenced his courtship immediately, and was so successful that he gained her love, and, conducting her to his palace, he caused her to be clothed in the most magnificent manner. This being ended, and the king finding that she was the King of Colchester's daughter, ordered some chariots to be got ready, that he might pay the king a visit. The chariot in which the king and queen rode was adorned with rich ornamental gems of gold. The king, her father, was at first astonished that his daughter had been so fortunate as she was, till the young king made him sensible of all that happened. Great was the joy at court amongst all, with the exception of the queen and her club-footed daughter, who were ready to burst with malice, and envied her happiness; and the greater was their madness because she was now above them all. Great rejoicings, with feasting and dancing, continued many days. Then at length, with the dowry her father gave her they returned home. The deformed daughter perceiving that her sister had been so happy in seeking her fortune, would needs do the same; so disclosing her mind to her mother, all preparations were made, and she was furnished not only with rich apparel, but sweetmeats, sugar, almonds, etc., in great quantities, and a large bottle of Malaga sack. Thus provided, she went the same road as her sister, and coming near the cave, the old man said, 'Young woman, whither so fast?' 'What is that to you?' said she. 'Then,' said he, 'what have you in your bag and bottle?' She answered, 'Good things, which you shall not be troubled with.' 'Won't you give me some?' said he. 'No, not a bit, nor a drop, unless it would choke you.' The old man frowned, saying, 'Evil fortune attend thee.' Going on, she came to the hedge, through which she espied a gap, and thought to pass through it, but, going in, the hedge closed, and the thorns run into her flesh, so that it was with great difficulty that she got out. Being now in a painful condition, she searched for water to wash herself, and, looking round, she saw the well; she sat down on the brink of it, and one of the heads came up, saying, 'Wash me, comb me, and lay me down softly, etc.' But she banged it with her bottle, saying, 'Take this for your washing.' So the second and third heads came up, and met with no better treatment than the first; whereupon the heads consulted among themselves what evils to plague her with for such usage. The first said, 'Let her be struck with leprosy in her face.' The second, 'Let an additional smell be added to her breath.' The third bestowed on her a husband, though but a poor country cobbler. This done, she goes on till she came to a town, and it being market day, the people looked at her, and seeing such an evil face fled out of her sight, all but a poor cobbler (who not long before had mended the shoes of an old hermit, who having no money, gave him a box of ointment for the cure of the leprosy, and a bottle of spirits for a stinking breath). Now the cobbler having a mind to do an act of charity, was induced to go up to her and ask her who she was. 'I am,' said she, 'the King of Colchester's daughter-in-law.' 'Well,' said the cobbler, 'if I restore you to your natural complexion, and make a sound cure both in face and breath, will you in reward take me for a husband?' 'Yes, friend,' replied she, 'with all my heart.' With this the cobbler applied the remedies, and they worked the effect in a few weeks, and then they were married, and after a few days they set forward for the court at Colchester. When the queen understood she had married a poor cobbler, she fell into distraction, and hanged herself for vexation. The death of the queen was not a source of sorrow to the king, who had only married her for her fortune, and bore her no affection; and shortly afterwards he gave the cobbler a hundred pounds to take the daughter to a remote part of the kingdom, where he lived many years mending shoes, while his wife assisted the housekeeping by spinning, and selling the results of her labours at the country market.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Twelve Months,Russia,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Jeremiah Curtin, Fairy Tales of Eastern Europe (New York: McBride, Nast and Company, 1914), pp. 1-8.","Holena sat around in idleness, while Marushka had to cook, wash, spin, weave, bring grass, and take care of the cow. She was willing to work; she didn't know why her mother hated her, but she bore reproaches with patience. At last the stepmother and her daughter thought only of how to get rid of poor Marushka. They tortured her with hunger, and beat her, but she endured it all and grew more beautiful each day. One day, in the middle of winter, Holena pretended to want violets, and she said to Marushka, 'Go to the woods and get me some violets. I want to put them in my belt and enjoy their perfume.' 'But, sister, what has come to your mind? I have never heard of violets blossoming in winter,' answered Marushka. 'How do you dare to question when I command? Worthless creature, toad! If you do not go this minute to the woods and get me violets I will kill you,' threatened Holena. The stepmother seized Marushka, pushed her out of the house, and closed the door. The girl went to the forest, weeping bitterly. Deep snow was on the ground; there was no trace of a path. Long she wandered. She was hungry and cold, and prayed to God to take her out of the world. At last, off in the distance, she saw a bright light. She went toward it and ascending a hill she came to a fire; around the fire on twelve stones, sat twelve men; three old men with long white beards, three somewhat younger, three in years of manhood, and three beautiful youths. They were sitting in silence and looking calmly on the fire. They were the Twelve Months. December sat in the first place; his hair and beard were white as snow; he held a scepter in his hand. Marushka stood in astonishment, but after a time, summoning courage, she drew near, and asked, 'Kind men, will you let me warm myself at the fire? I am shivering with cold.' December nodded his head. When the maid was warm, he asked, 'Why are you here?' 'I am looking for violets,' answered Marushka. 'But there are no violets in winter; everything is covered with snow.' 'I know that,' answered Marushka, sadly; 'but my mother and sister have sent me for violets; if I do not get them they will kill me. Tell me, good shepherds, is there any place where I can find violets?' December rose from his seat, went to the youngest month, and said, 'Brother March, sit in the first place.' March took the highest place and waved the scepter above the fire; that instant the fire burned more powerfully. The snow thawed; birds appeared on the branches and grass grew green, beneath the trees; flowers began to open. Spring had come. In the thickets violets were blooming; there were so many that they were like a blue carpet. 'Quick, Marushka, pluck them!' said March. Marushka gathered a great bouquet, thanked the Twelve Months, and hurried home. Holena and her mother were astonished when they saw Marushka coming with a large bunch of violets in her hand. They opened the door; she entered and the whole house was filled with the perfume. 'Where did you find them?' asked Holena. 'On a hill; there are many of them under the trees.' Holena took the violets, put them in her belt and enjoyed their perfume; she didn't offer even one of them to Marushka. The next day they sent Marushka for strawberries. Long she wandered around in the cold, praying God to take her out of the world; then she came to the Twelve Months and again met with a kind reception. Learning what she wanted, December left his place and going to the month sitting just opposite, gave him the scepter, and said, 'Brother June, sit in the first place.' June sat in the highest place and waved the scepter above the fire; that instant the flames leaped high, the snow melted, the earth was covered with grass, the trees with leaves; the birds began to sing; many-colored flowers bloomed in the forest. Summer had come. Little white blossoms gleamed, like stars, in the grass, as if some one had put them there on purpose. Before Marushka's eyes the flowers became fruit, and the berries were ripe. She could not look around before the grass was dotted with them as if some one had sprinkled it with blood-drops. Marushka gathered many berries and took them to her sister. Helena ate some of them and gave her mother some, but did not offer even one to Marushka. The next day Holena wanted apples, and she sent Marushka for them. The unfortunate girl waded through deep snow and wandered around in the cold praying God to take her out of the world. At last she found the Twelve Months sitting in front of their fire as formerly. When she told them what she had been sent for, December gave the scepter to his brother September, who sat in the first place and waved the scepter over the fire. The fire burned brighter and the snow vanished, but Nature had a solemn face; leaves were falling from the trees, a fresh wind drove them hither and thither over the dry and yellow grass. Marushka saw no flowers, but she saw an apple tree loaded with red fruit. 'Shake the tree quickly,' said September. She shook it; one blushing apple fell. She shook it again; another fell. 'Now hurry home,' said September. She obeyed, and carried home the two apples. Holena wondered at their beauty and so did her mother. 'Where did you get them?' 'On a hill; there are many there yet.' 'Why didn't you bring more?' asked Holena, angrily. 'No doubt you ate them on the road.' 'I did not. I shook the tree once: one apple fell; I shook it again: another fell. They wouldn't let me shake it again; they told me to go home.' 'May lightning strike you!' screamed Holena, and she wanted to beat her sister. The poor girl began to cry. Holena ate an apple; it seemed to her wonderfully sweet. She finished, and said to her mother, 'Give me my cloak, I'll go into the forest myself. If that good-for-nothing girl goes she will be sure to eat the apples. I'll shake off every apple whether they permit me to or not; it's all the same to me,' She put on her cloak, tied a shawl over her head and went out. The snow was deep; there was no trace of a human foot anywhere. She wandered long, and at last she came to the Twelve Months. Without asking leave Holena walked straight to the fire and began to warm her hands. 'What do you want; why are you here?' asked December, severely. 'Why ask, old man? What business is it of yours where I am going?' answered Holena, and turned to go into the forest. December frowned and raised his scepter. That moment the fire died down, the heavens grew dark; snow fell in great flakes, as if someone were shaking feathers out of a tick; and a cutting, all-chilling wind whistled through the forest. Holena could not see one step before her; she felt that her limbs were growing stiff. She cursed Marushka, and stumbled on. The mother, waiting at home, looked through the window, and ran to the gate; but hours passed by, one after another, and no Holena came. 'Most likely she found the apples so good that she can't stop eating them. I'll go myself and look for her,' said the mother. She put on her cloak, threw a shawl over her head and went in search of her daughter. Time passed. Marushka got supper ready, and fed the cow, but neither Holena nor her mother came. 'Where are they stopping so long?' thought Marushka, and she sat down to spin. The spinning was finished, then night came, but still they were not at home. 'Lord be merciful to us! What has happened to them?' said the kind-hearted girl. She looked out. The heavens were gleaming with stars, the earth glittering with snow, but no human being was visible anywhere. She closed the door, made the sign of the cross, repeated 'Our Father' for her stepmother and sister, and then lay down to sleep. The next day she looked for them at breakfast, waited for them at dinner; but in vain. They came not again to the house of living man.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Two Girls and the Angel,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Ernst Meier, 'Die zwei Mädchen und der Engel,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 77, pp. 268-69. Source (Internet Archive): Ernst Meier, 'Die zwei Mädchen und der Engel,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 77, pp. 268-69.","Upon leaving the woods on her way home, the girl again saw the angel, who asked for a few strawberries. The girl gladly gave them to the angel. Then the angel said, 'When you come to the gate you will see a box. Take this with you, but do not open it until you arrive home.' No -- she would not open it. Arriving at the gate she found the box, quickly took it home to her mother, and then opened it. It was filled with precious stones and gold coins. Thus the girl suddenly had become very wealthy. Another girl heard about this and wanted to go into the woods and look for strawberries as well. Her mother also gave her cabbage and bacon to take along. When she came to the gate, the angel was sitting there and asked, 'Give me a little of your cabbage and bacon.' The girl answered, 'You can eat dirt!' She went further into the woods and picked a basketful of strawberries. Leaving the woods she saw the same angel, who asked, 'Give me a few strawberries.' The girl said, 'I'm going to eat the strawberries myself,' and gave nothing to the angel, who then replied, 'Just be on your way! At the gate you will find a box. You may take it with you, but do not open it until you arrive at home.' Oh, how the girl ran until she came to the gate and found the box! She was beside herself with joy. Arriving at home she opened the box -- and what was inside? Nothing but little black devils.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Two Stepsisters (Asbjornsen),Norway,"Dasent has changed the title of this story. A literal translation of Asbjørnsen's and Moe's title would be 'The Man's Daughter and the Woman's Daughter.' Link to the text in the original Norwegian: Manndatteren og kjerringdatteren, Norske Folkeeventyr.","Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbørnsen, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), , pp. 355-68. Source (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbørnsen, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), , pp. 355-68.","Once upon a time there was a couple, and each of them had a daughter by a former marriage. The woman's daughter was dull and lazy, and could never turn her hand to anything, and the man's daughter was brisk and ready; but somehow or other she could never do anything to her stepmother's liking, and both the woman and her daughter would have been glad to be rid of her. So it fell one day the two girls were to go out and spin by the side of the well, and the woman's daughter had flax to spin, but the man's daughter got nothing to spin but bristles. 'I don t know how it is,' said the woman's daughter, 'you're always so quick and sharp, but still I'm not afraid to spin a match with you.' Well, they agreed that she whose thread first snapped should go down the well. So they span away; but just as they were hard at it, the man's daughter's thread broke, and she had to go down the well. But when she got to the bottom, she saw far and wide around her a fair green meadow, and she hadn't hurt herself at all. So she walked on a bit, until she came to a hedge which she had to cross. 'Ah! don't step hard on me, pray don't, and I'll help you another time, that I will,' said the hedge. Then the girl made herself as light as she could, and stepped so carefully that she hardly touched a twig. So she went on a bit farther, until she came to a brindled cow, which walked there with a milking pail on her horns. It was a large pretty cow, and her udder was very full and round. 'Ah! be so good as to milk me, pray,' said the cow. 'I'm so full of milk. Drink as much as you please, and throw the rest over my hoofs, and see if I don't help you some day.' So the man's daughter did as the cow begged. As soon as she touched the teats, the milk spouted out into the pail. Then she drank until her thirst was quenched, and the rest she threw over the cow's hoofs, and the milking pail she hung on her horns again. When she had gone a bit farther, a big sheep met her, which had such thick long wool, it hung down and draggled after him on the ground, and on one of his horns hung a great pair of shears. 'Ah! please clip off my wool,' said the sheep, 'for here I go about with all this wool, and catch up everything I meet, and besides, it's so warm, I'm almost choked. Take as much of the fleece as you please, and twist the rest around my neck, and see if I don't help you some day.' Yes, she was willing enough, and the sheep lay down on her lap, and kept quite still, and she clipped him so neatly that there wasn't a scratch on his skin. Then she took as much of the wool as she chose, and the rest she twisted around the neck of the sheep. A little farther on, she came to an apple tree, which was loaded with apples. All its branches were bent to the ground, and leaning against the stem was a slender pole. 'Ah! do be so good as to pick my apples off me,' said the tree, 'so that my branches may straighten themselves again, for it's bad work to stand so crooked. But when you beat them down, don't strike me too hard. Then eat as many as you please. Lay the rest around my roots, and see if I don't help you some day or other.' Yes, she picked all she could reach with her hands, and then she took the pole and knocked down the rest. Afterwards she ate her fill, and the rest she laid neatly around the roots. So she walked on a long, long way, and then she came to a large farmhouse, where an old hag of the trolls lived with her daughter. There she turned in to ask if she could get a place. 'Oh!' said the old hag. 'It's no use your trying. We've had ever so many maids, but none of them was worth her salt.' But she begged so nicely that they would just take her on trial, that at last they let her stay. So the old hag gave her a sieve, and asked her go and fetch water in it. She thought it strange to fetch water in a sieve, but still she went, and when see came to the well, the little birds began to sing: Daub in clay, Stuff in straw, Stuff in straw. Yes, she did so, and found she could carry water in a sieve well enough. But when she got home with the water, and the old witch saw the sieve, she cried out, 'This you haven't sucked out of your own breast.' Then the old witch said, that she might now go into the stall to pitch out dung and milk the cows. But when she got there she found a pitchfork so long and heavy she couldn't move it, much less work with it. She didn't know at all what to do, or what to make of it. But the little birds sang again that she should take the broomstick and toss out a little with that, and all the rest of the dung would fly after it. So she did that, and as soon as she began with the broomstick, the stall was as clean as if it had been swept and washed. Now she had to milk the cows, but they were so restless that they kicked and frisked; there was no getting near them to milk them. But the little birds sang outside: A little drop, a tiny sup, For the little birds to drink it up. Yes, she did that. She just milked a tiny drop for the little birds outside. It was as much as she could, but then all the cows stood still and let her milk them. They neither kicked nor frisked. They didn't even lift a leg. When the old witch saw her coming in with the milk, she cried out, 'This you haven't sucked out of your own breast. But now just take this black wool and wash it white.' The girl was at her wit's end to know how to do this, for she had never seen or heard of anyone who could wash black wool white. Still she said nothing, but took the wool and went down with it to the well. There the little birds sang again, and told her to take the wool and dip it into the large tub that stood there. She did so, and out it came as white as snow. 'Well, I never!' said the old witch, when she came in with the wool. 'It's no good keeping you. You can do everything, and at last you'll be the plague of my life. We'd best part, so take your wages and be off.' Then the old hag drew out three chests, one red, one green, and one blue, and of these the girl was to choose one as wages for her service. Now she didn't know at all which to choose, but the little birds sang: Don't take the red, don't take the green, But take the blue, where may be seen Three little crosses all in a row. We saw the marks, and so we know. So she took the blue chest, as the birds sang. 'Bad luck to you, then,' said the old witch. 'See if I don't make you pay for this!' So when the man's daughter was just setting off, the old witch shot a red-hot bar of iron after her, but she sprang behind the door and hid herself, so that it missed her, for her friends, the little birds, had told her beforehand how to behave. Then she walked on and on as fast as she could. But when she got to the apple tree, she heard an awful clatter behind her on the road, and that was the old witch and her daughter coming after her. So the girl was so frightened and scared, she didn't know what to do. 'Come here to me, girl, do you hear,' said the apple tree, 'I'll help you. Get under my branches and hide, for if they catch you they'll tear you to death, and take the chest away from you.' Yes, she did so, and she had hardly hidden herself before up came the old witch and her daughter. 'Have you seen any girl pass this way, you apple tree?' said the old hag. 'Yes, yes,' said the Apple tree. 'One ran by here an hour ago. But now she's got so far ahead you'll never catch up with her.' So the old witch turned back and went home again. Then the lassie walked on a bit, but when she came just about where the sheep was, she heard an awful clatter beginning on the road behind her, and she didn't know what to do. She was so scared and frightened; for she knew well enough it was the old witch, who had changed her mind. 'Come here to me, girl,' said the sheep, 'and I'll help you. Hide yourself under my fleece, and then they'll not see you, or else they'll take away the chest, and tear you to death.' Just then up came the old witch, tearing along. 'Have you seen any girl pass here, you sheep?' she cried to the sheep. 'Oh yes,' said the sheep, 'I saw one an hour ago, but she ran so fast you'll never catch her.' So the old witch turned around and went home. But when the girl had come to where she met the cow, she heard another awful clatter behind her. 'Come here to me, girl,' said the cow, 'and I'll help you to hide yourself under my udder, else the old hag will come and take away your chest, and tear you to death.' True enough, it wasn't long before she came up. 'Have you seen any girl pass here, you cow?' said the old hag. 'Yes, I saw one an hour ago,' said the cow, 'but she's far away now, for she ran so fast I don't think you'll ever catch up with her.' So the old hag turned around, and went back home again. When the girl had walked a long, long way farther on, and was not far from the hedge, she heard again that awful clatter on the road behind her, and she got scared and frightened, for she knew well enough it was the old hag and her daughter, who had changed their minds. 'Come here to me, girl,' said the hedge, 'and I'll help you. Creep under my twigs, so that they can't see you; or else they'll take the chest from you, and tear you to death.' Yes; she made all the haste she could to get under the twigs of the hedge. 'Have you seen any girl pass this way, you hedge?' said the old hag to the hedge. 'No, I haven't seen any girl,' answered the hedge, and was as smooth-tongued as if he had melted butter in his mouth; but all the while he spread himself out, making himself so big and tall, that one would have to think twice before crossing him. And so the old witch had no choice but to turn around and go home again. When the man's daughter got home, her stepmother and her stepsister were more spiteful against her than ever; for now she was much prettier, and so smart, it was a joy to look at her. Still she couldn't get permission to live with them, but they drove her out into a pigsty. That was to be her house. So she scrubbed it out neat and clean. Then she opened her chest, to see what she had got for her wages. As soon as she unlocked it, she saw inside so much gold and silver, and lovely things, which came streaming out until all the walls were hung with them, and at last the pigsty was far grander than the grandest king's palace. And when the stepmother and her daughter saw this, they almost jumped out of their skin, and began to ask what kind of a position she had had down there. 'Oh,' said the girl, 'Can't you see what good wages I received? It was such a family and such a mistress to serve, you couldn't find anyone like them anywhere.' Yes, the woman's daughter made up her mind to go out to serve too, so that she might get just such another gold chest. So they sat down to spin again, and this time the woman's daughter was to spin bristles, and the man's daughter flax, and she whose thread first snapped was to go down the well. It wasn't long, as you might guess, before the woman's daughter's thread snapped, and so they threw her down the well. The same thing happened. She fell to the bottom, but met with no harm, and found herself on a lovely green meadow. When she had walked a bit she came to the hedge. 'Don't step hard on me, pray, girl, and I'll help you again,' said the hedge. 'Oh!' said she. 'What should I care for a bundle of twigs?' And she tramped and stamped over the hedge until it cracked and groaned. A little farther on she came to the cow, which walked about ready to burst for want of milking. 'Be so good as to milk me, girl,' said the cow, 'and I'll help you again. Drink as much as you please, but throw the rest over my hoofs.' Yes, she did that. She milked the cow, and drank until she could drink no more. But when she was finished, there was none left to throw over the cow's hoofs, and as for the pail, she tossed it down the hill and walked on. When she had gone a bit farther, she came to the sheep, which walked along with his wool dragging after him. 'Oh, be so good as to clip me, girl,' said the sheep, 'and I'll serve you again. Take as much of the wool as you will, but twist the rest around my neck.' Well, she did that; but she went so carelessly to work, that she cut great pieces out of the poor sheep, and as for the wool, she carried it all away with her. A little while after she came to the apple tree, which stood there quite crooked with fruit again. 'Be so good as to pick the apples off me so that my limbs may grow straight, for it's weary work to stand all awry,' said the apple tree. 'But please take care not to beat me too hard. Eat as many as you will, but lay the rest neatly around my roots, and I'll help you again.' Well, she picked those nearest to her, and beat down those she couldn't reach with the pole. But she didn't care how she did it, and broke off and tore down great branches, and ate until she was as full as full as could be, and then she threw down the rest under the tree. When she had gone a good bit farther, she came to the farm where the old witch lived. There she asked for a place, but the old hag said she wouldn't have any more maids, for they were either worth nothing, or were too clever, and cheated her out of her goods. But the woman's daughter was not to be put off, she would have a place, so the old witch said she'd give her a trial, to see if she was fit for anything. The first thing she had to do was to fetch water in sieve. Well, off she went to the well, and drew water in a sieve, but as fast as she got it in, it ran out again. So the little birds sang: Put in straw. But she didn't care to listen to the birds' song, and pelted them with clay, until they flew off far away. And so she had to go home with the empty sieve, and was well scolded by the old witch. Then she was to go into the stall to clean it, and milk the cows. But she was too good for such dirty work, she thought. Still, she went out into the stall, but when she got there, she couldn't get on at all with the pitchfork, it was so big. The birds said the same to her as they had said to her stepsister, and told her to take the broomstick, and toss out a little dung, and then all the rest would fly after it; but all she did with the broomstick was to throw it at the birds. When she came to milk, the cows were so unruly, they kicked and pushed, and every time she got a little milk in the pail, over they kicked it. Then the birds sang again: But she beat and banged the cows about, and threw and pelted at the birds everything she could lay hold of, and made such a to do, it was awful to see. So she didn't make much either of her pitching or milking, and when she came indoors she got blows as well as hard words from the old witch, who sent her off to wash the black wool white; but that, too, she did no better. Then the old witch thought this was really too bad, so she set out the three chests, one red, one green, and one blue, and said she no longer had any need of her services, for she wasn't worth keeping, but for wages she should have permission to choose whichever chest she pleased. Then sang the little birds: She didn't care a pin for what the birds sang, but took the red one, which caught her eye most. And so she set out on her road home, and she went along quietly and easily enough. There was no one who came after her. When she got home, her mother was ready to jump with joy, and the two went at once into the ingle, and put the chest up there, for they made up their minds there could be nothing in it but pure silver and gold, and they thought to have all the walls and roof gilded like the pigsty. But lo! when they opened the chest there came tumbling out nothing but toads, and frogs, and snakes; and worse than that, whenever the woman's daughter opened her mouth, out popped a toad or a snake, and all the vermin one ever thought of; so that at last there was no living in the house with her. That was all the wages she got for going out to service with the old witch.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
480,The Two Stepsisters (Kremnitz),Romania,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Mite Kremnitz, Roumanian Fairy Tales, collected by Mite Kremnitz, adapted and arranged by J. M. Percival (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1885), pp. 130-38. Source (Internet Archive): Mite Kremnitz, Roumanian Fairy Tales, collected by Mite Kremnitz, adapted and arranged by J. M. Percival (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1885), pp. 130-38.","The widow's daughter was ugly, lazy, obstinate and spiteful; yet as she was her mother's own child, the latter was delighted with her and pushed every thing upon her husband's daughter. But the old man's child was beautiful, industrious, obedient and good. God had gifted her with every virtuous and lovable quality, yet she was persecuted by her spiteful sister, as well as by her stepmother; it was fortunate that she possessed endurance and patience, or she would have fared badly. Whenever there was any hard work to be done, it was put upon the old man's daughter -- she was obliged to get dry wood from the forest, drag the heavy sacks of grain to the mill; in short, every task always fell to her lot. The whole livelong day she had no rest, but was kept continually going upstairs and down. Still the old woman and her treasure of a daughter were constantly dissatisfied, and always had something to find fault with. The stepdaughter was a heavy cross to the second wife, but her own daughter was like the basil plant, which is placed before the images of the saints. When the stepsisters went to the village in the evening to spin, the old man's daughter did not allow herself to be interrupted in her work, but finished a whole sieve full of spools, while the old woman's daughter with difficulty completed a single one. When they came home late at night, the old woman's daughter jumped nimbly over the fence and asked to hold the sieve till the other had leaped over it too. Meantime the spiteful girl hurried into the house to her parents, and said she had spun all the spools. The stepsister vainly declared that they were the work of her own hands; mother and daughter jeered at her words, and of course gained their cause. When Sunday or Friday came the old woman's daughter was brushed and bedizened as though the calves had licked her. There was no dance, no feather-plucking in the village to which the old woman's daughter did not go, but the stepdaughter was sternly denied every pleasure of the kind. Yet when the husband came home, his wife's tongue ran like a mill-wheel -- her stepdaughter was disobedient, bold, bad-tempered, this, that, and the other; he must send her away from home, put her out at service, whichever he chose; it was impossible to keep her in the house because she might ruin her daughter too. The old man was a jackanapes, or, as the saying goes, under petticoat government. Everything his wife said was sacred. Had he obeyed the voice of his heart the poor old man might perhaps have said something, but now the hen had begun to crow in the house, and the rooster was of no consequence; yet, if he had thought of opposing them, his wife and her daughter would have soon made him repent it. One day, when he was unusually angry about what his wife had told him, he called the young girl, and said: 'My dear child, your mother is always saying that you are disobedient to her, have a spiteful tongue, and are wicked, so that it is not possible for you to stay any longer in my house; therefore go wherever the Lord may guide you, that there may no longer be so much quarreling here on your account. But I advise you as a father, wherever you may go, to be obedient, humble, and industrious, for here with me all your faults have been overlooked, parental affection has aided, but among strangers nobody knows what sort of people you may meet, and they will not indulge you as we have done.' When the poor girl saw that her stepmother and her daughter wanted to drive her out of the house at any cost, she kissed her father's hand with tears in her eyes, and went out into the wide world without any hope of ever returning home. She walked along the road till she chanced to meet a little sick dog, so thin that one could count its ribs. When the dog saw her, it said: 'You beautiful, industrious girl, have pity on me and take care of me, I will reward you some day.' The girl did pity the poor animal, and, taking it in her arms, washed and cleaned it thoroughly. Then she left it and went on, glad that she had been able to do a good action. She had not walked far when she came to a fine pear-tree in full bloom, but it was completely covered with caterpillars. When the pear-tree saw the girl, it said: 'You beautiful, industrious girl, take care of me and rid me of these caterpillars, I will repay you for it some day.' The girl, with her usual diligence, cleared the pear-tree from its dry branches and most carefully removed the caterpillars; then she walked quietly on to seek some place where she might enter into service. On her way she came to a ruined, neglected fountain, which said to her: 'You beautiful, industrious girl, take care of me, I will reward you some day.' The little maid cleared the fountain, cleaned it thoroughly, and then went on again. As she walked she came to a dilapidated oven, which had become almost entirely useless. As soon as the oven saw her, it said: 'You beautiful, industrious girl, line me with stones and clean me, I will repay you some day!' The young girl knew that work harms no one, so she rolled up her sleeves, moistened some clay, stopped the holes in the stove, greased it and cleaned it till it was a pleasure to see it. Then she washed her hands and continued her journey. As she walked on, day and night, it happened, I don't know how -- that she missed her way; yet she did not lose her trust in God, but walked on and on until early one morning, after passing through a dark forest, she reached a beautiful meadow. In the meadow she saw a little house, completely overgrown with vines, and when she approached it an old woman came out kindly to meet her, and said: 'What are you seeking here, child, and who are you?' 'Who should I be, good dame! A poor girl, motherless, and I may say fatherless, too, for God alone knows what I have suffered since my own mother's hands were folded on her breast. I am seeking service, and as I know nobody and am wandering from place to place I have lost my way. But the Lord guided me, so that I have reached your house and I beg you to give me a shelter.' 'Poor child!' replied the old dame. 'Surely God himself has led you to me and saved you from danger. I am the goddess of Sunday. Serve me today, and I promise that you shall not leave my house empty-handed tomorrow.' 'Very well, but I don't know what I have to do.' 'You must wash and feed my little children, who are now asleep, and then cook my dinner; when I come home from church I want to find it neither hot nor cold, but just right to eat.' When she had said this, the old woman set off for church. The young girl rolled up her sleeves and went to work. First of all she prepared the water for the bath, then went out-doors and began to call: 'Children, children, children, come to mother and let her wash you.' When she looked up, what did she behold? The courtyard was filled and the woods were swarming with a host of dragons and all sorts of wild beasts of every size. But, firm in her faith and trust in God, the young girl did not quail, but taking one animal after another washed and cleaned it in the best possible way. Then she set about cooking the dinner, and when Sunday came out of church and saw her children so nicely washed and every thing so well done she was greatly delighted. After she had sat down to the table, she told the young girl that she might go up into the attic, choose whichever chest she wanted, and take it away with her for her wages; but she must not open it until she reached her father's house. The maiden went to the garret, where there were a number of chests, some old and ugly, others new and beautiful. But as she was not a bit covetous, she took the oldest and ugliest of them all. When she came down with it, the goddess of Sunday frowned slightly, but there was no help for it, so she blessed the girl, who took her trunk on her back and joyfully returned to her father's house. On the way, lo and behold! there was the oven full of beautifully risen, nicely browned cakes. The girl ate and ate, as many as she could, then took some with her for her journey and went on. Soon she came to the fountain she had cleaned, and which was now filled to the brim with water as clear as tears and as sweet and cold as ice. On the edge stood two silver goblets, from which she drank the water until she was entirely refreshed. Then, taking one goblet with her, she walked on. As she went, lo and behold! there stood the pear-tree she had cleaned, full of pears as yellow as wax, perfectly ripe, and as sweet as honey. When the pear-tree saw the girl, it bent its branches down to her, and she ate some of the fruit and took more pears to eat on the way, just as many of them as she wanted. From there she journeyed on again, and lo and behold! she next met the little dog, which was now well and handsome; around its neck it wore a collar of ducats which it gave the old man's daughter as a reward for taking care of it in its sickness. So the young girl at last reached her father's house. When the old man saw her his eyes filled with tears and his heart throbbed with joy. The girl took out the dog's collar and the silver goblet and gave them to her father; when they opened the chest together, out came countless numbers of horses, cattle, and sheep, till the sight of so much wealth instantly made the old man young again. But his wife stood as if she were dazed, and did not know what to do in her rage. Her daughter, however, plucked up courage and said: 'Never mind, mother, the world isn't emptied yet; I'll go and fetch you still greater treasures.' After saying this she angrily set oft at once. She walked and walked along the same path her stepsister had followed. She, too, met the sick, feeble dog, passed the pear-tree covered with caterpillars, the dry, neglected fountain, and the dilapidated oven which had become almost useless; but when dog, tree, fountain and oven begged her to take care of them, she answered rudely and scornfully: 'Do you suppose I'll soil my delicate hands! Have you often been tended by people like me?' As they all knew that it is easier to get milk from a dry cow than to make a spoiled, lazy girl obliging, they let her go her way in peace, and no longer asked her for help. As she walked on and on, she too at last reached the goddess Sunday. But here also she behaved sullenly, saucily, and awkwardly. Instead of cooking the dinner nicely and washing Sunday's children as thoroughly as her stepsister had done, she burned them all till they screamed and ran off as though crazed by the burns and the pain. The food she scorched, charred, and let curdle so that no one could eat it, and when Sunday came home from church she covered her eyes and ears in horror at what she found in her house. Even the gentle, indulgent goddess could not get along with such an obstinate, lazy girl as this one, so she told her to go up into the garret, choose any chest she wanted, and then in God's name continue her journey. The girl went, took the newest and handsomest trunk, for she liked to get as much as possible of the best and finest things, but was not willing to do faithful service. When she came down she did not go to the goddess Sunday to receive her blessing, but hurried off as if she were quitting an evil house. She nearly ran herself off her feet, in the fear that her mistress might change her mind and follow her to get her trunk back. When she reached the oven there were some nice cakes in it, but when she approached to satisfy her hunger the fire burned her and she could take none. The silver goblets were again at the fountain and the fountain was full of water to the brim, but when the girl tried to seize the cup to drink, the goblets instantly vanished, the water dried up, and the girl almost died of thirst. When she came to the pear-tree it stood full of pears, but do you suppose the traveler could taste even one of them? No! The tree had made itself a thousand times as tall as before, so that its boughs touched the clouds! So the old woman's daughter might pick her teeth, she obtained nothing else. Going further on she met the dog, which again had a collar of ducats round its neck; but when the girl tried to take it off the dog bit her so that he tore off her fingers and would not let her touch him. The girl, in rage and shame, sucked her delicate little hands, but it did no good. At last, after great difficulty, she reached her mother's house, but even here she did not find herself rolling in money, for when the old man's wife opened the chest, out came a host of dragons, which swallowed her and her daughter as if they had never been in the world. Then dragons, trunk, and all vanished. The old man could now live in peace, and possessed countless riches; his daughter he married to a worthy, capable man. The cocks now crowed on the gate posts, the threshold, and everywhere, but the hens no longer crowed as an evil omen in the house of the old man, who had not many days of life remaining. He was bald and bent, because his wife had quarreled with him too often and looked to see if he didn't need a drubbing.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,A Frog for a Husband,Korea,NA,NA,"But one summer Pak noticed that there were fewer fish in the pond, and that every day they seemed to be less in number. Where he used to catch a stringful in an hour, he could hardly get half that many during a whole day. What was the matter? Was he getting less skilful? Was the bait poor? Not at all! His worms were as fat, his hooks and lines in as good order, and his eyesight was as keen as ever. When Pak noticed also that the water was getting shallower, he was startled. Could it be that the pond was drying up? Things grew worse day by day until at last there were no fish. Where once sparkled the wavelets of a pond was now an arid waste of earth and stones, over which trickled hardly more than a narrow rill, which he could jump over. No fish and no pond meant no water for his rice fields. In horror at the idea of starving, or having to move away from his old home and become a pauper, Pak looked down from what had been the banks of the pond to find the cause of all this trouble. There in the mud among the pebbles he saw a bullfrog, nearly as big as an elephant, blinking at him with its huge round eyes. In a rage the farmer Pak burst out, charging the frog with cruelty in eating up all the fish and drinking up all the water, threatening starvation to man and wife. Then Pak proceeded to curse the whole line of the frog's ancestors and relatives, especially in the female line, for eight generations back, as Koreans usually do. But instead of being sorry, or showing any anger at such a scolding, the bullfrog only blinked and bowed, saying, 'Don't worry, Farmer Pak. You'll be glad of it, by and by. Besides, I want to go home with you and live in your house.' 'What! Occupy my home, you clammy reptile! No you won't,' said Pak. 'Oh! but I have news to tell you and you won't be sorry, for you see what I can do. Better take me in.' Old Pak thought it over. How should he face his wife with such a guest? But then, the frog had news to tell and that might please the old lady, who was fond of gossip. Since her husband was not very talkative, she might be willing to harbor so strange a guest. So they started down the valley. Pak shuffled along as fast as his old shins could move, but the bullfrog covered the distance in a few leaps, for his hind legs were three feet long. Arrived at his door, Mrs. Pak was horrified at the prospect of boarding such a guest. But when the husband told her that Froggie knew all about everybody and could chat interestingly by the hour, she changed her manner and bade him welcome. Indeed, she so warmed in friendliness that she gave him one of her best rooms. All the leaves, grass, and brushwood that had been gathered in the woodshed to supply the kitchen fire and house flues, was carried into the room. There it was doused with tubs of water to make a nice soft place such as bullfrogs like. After this he was fed all the worms he wanted. Then after his dinner and a nap, Mrs. Pak and Mr. Pak donned their best clothes and went in to make a formal call on their guest. Mr. Pak put on his horsehair hat and long white coat, as white as snow, which had been starched and beaten by his loving wife, until it glistened all over like hoar frost. Mr. Bullfrog was so affable and charming in conversation, besides telling so many good stories and serving up so many dainty bits of gossip, that Mrs. Pak was delighted beyond expression. Indeed, she felt almost like adopting Froggie as her son. The night passed quietly away, but when the first rays of light appeared, Froggie was out on the porch singing a most melodious tune to the rising sun. When Mr. and Mrs. Pak rose up to greet their guest and to hear his song, they were amazed to find that the music was bringing them blessings. Everything they had wished for, during their whole lives, seemed now at hand, with more undreamed of coming in troops. In the yard stood oxen, donkeys, and horses loaded with every kind of box, bale, and bundle, waiting to be unloaded, and more were coming; stout men porters appeared and began to unpack, while troops of lovely girls in shining white took from the men's hands beautiful things made of jade, gold, and silver. There were fine clothes and hats for Mr. Pak, jade-tipped hairpins, tortoise-shell and ivory combs, silk gowns, embroidered and jeweled girdles, and every sort of frocks and woman's garments for Mrs. Pak, besides inlaid cabinets, clothes racks, and wardrobes. Above all, was a polished metal mirror that looked like the full autumn moon, over which Mrs. Pak was now tempted to spend every minute of her time. Four or five of the prettiest maidens they had ever seen in all their lives danced, sang and played sweetest music. The unpacking of boxes, bales, and bundles continued. Tables of jade and finest sandalwood were spread with the richest foods and wines. Soon, under the skilful hands of carpenters and decorators, instead of oiled paper on the floors, covering old bricks and broken flat stones set over the flues, and smoky rafters and mud walls poorly papered, there rose a new house. It had elegant wide halls and large rooms with partitions made of choicest joiner work. It was furnished with growing flowers, game boards for chess, and had everything in it like a palace. As for the riches of the larder and the good things to eat daily laid on the table, no pen but a Korean's can tell of them all. In the new storehouse were piles of dried fish, edible seaweed, bags of rice, bins of millet, tubs of kim-chee made of various sorts of the pepper-hash, and Korean hot pickle in which the natives delight, to say nothing of peaches, pears, persimmons, chestnuts, honey, barley, sugar, candy, cake, and pastry, all arranged in high piles and gay colors. The old couple seemed able to eat and enjoy twice as big dinners as formerly, for all the while the adopted bullfrog was very entertaining. Mr. and Mrs. Pak laughed continually, declaring they had never heard such good stories as he told. The good wife was, however, quite equal to her guest in retailing gossip. One of her favorite subjects, of which she never tired, was the beauty and charm of Miss Peach. She was the accomplished daughter of the big Yang-ban, or nobleman, Mr. Poom, who lived in a great house, with a host of servants and retainers in the next village, and Mrs. Pak insisted there was no young woman in the world like her. It was noticed that Mr. Bullfrog was particularly interested when Miss Peach Poom was the subject of the old lady's praises. After a week of such luxury, during which Mr. and Mrs. Pak seemed to dwell in the Nirvana, or Paradise, which the good priests often talked about, Mr. Pak's full cup of joy was dashed to earth when the bullfrog informed him that he intended to marry, and that Mr. Pak must get him a wife. Still worse than that, Pak was informed by the frog that he would have no one but Miss Peach, the daughter of Poom, so renowned for her beauty and graces. At this, old Pak nearly went wild. He begged to be excused from the task, but the bullfrog was inexorable. So, after imprecating his wife's tongue, for her ever putting it into the frog's head to marry Miss Peach, he donned his fine clothes and set out to see Mr. Poom. He expected to be beaten to death for his brazen effrontery in asking a noble lady to marry a frog. Now this Mr. Poom had long been the magistrate of a district, who had squeezed much money wrongly from the poor people over whom he ruled, and having won great wealth, had retired and come back to his native place to live. Yet to keep up his old habits, he still kept a cross bench on which common people who offended him were thrown and beaten with paddles, until often they went away bleeding cripples. This man had two daughters married, but the third, the youngest and most beautiful, Miss Peach, now eighteen years old, was the only one Mr. Bullfrog would have for his bride. Arriving at the Pooms' grand mansion, Mr. Pak told of the suitor's wealth, power and fame, high position and promise, and how he had made the old couple happy. Old Poom had pricked up his ears from the first mention of riches and power, and became highly interested as Pak went on sounding the praises of his prospective son-in-law. 'And what is his name?' asked Mr. Poom. Here Pak was in a quandary. He knew that the frog family was the oldest and most numerous in the world and was famous for fine voices. He fell into a brown study for a few minutes. Then, looking up, he declared that he had so long thought of the suitor's graces and accomplishments, that he had forgotten his name and could not then recall it. So Mr. Poom, in order to help Pak out, ran over the list of famous families in Korea, reciting the names of the Kims, Sims, Mins, the Hos, Chos, Kos, Quongs, and Hongs, etc., etc., for Mr. Poom was an authority on the Korean peerage. 'It is none of these,' said Pak. 'I deeply regret that I cannot recall the name.' 'Strange,' said Mr. Poom. 'I have named all the families of any standing in the kingdom. What is his office or rank and where do his relations live?' Pak was pressed so hard by Mr. Poom's searching questions that at last he had to confess that the suitor for the beautiful maiden was not a man but a frog. 'What! Do you want me to marry my daughter to a pond-croaker? You shall suffer for thus insulting me in my own house. Slaves, bring the cross bench and give this wretch twenty blows.' Forthwith, while four men brought out the whipping bench, three others seized poor Pak, stripped off his coat, and bound him with feet and arms stretched out to the bench. Then a tall, stalwart fellow raised the huge paddle of wood to let fall with all his might on the bare flesh of the old man. But all this while the sky was darkening, and, before the first blow was given, the lightning flashed, the thunder rolled, and floods of rain fell that threatened to overwhelm house, garden, and all in a deluge. The hail, which began to pelt the cattle, was first the size of an egg and then of stones, like cannon balls. 'Hold,' cried the frightened Mr. Poom. 'I'll wait and ask further.' Thereupon the lightning and thunder ceased, the sun burst out in splendor. Mightily impress by this, Mr. Poom at last agreed to let his daughter become the bride of the frog, not telling her who her husband was to be. Within an hour, while she was getting ready, a string of fine horses and donkeys with palanquins loaded with presents for the bride and her family appeared. Besides boxes of silk dresses and perfumes, headgear and articles for a lady's boudoir, there were troops of maidens to wait on the bride. Arraying Miss Peach in the loveliest of robes, they also dressed her hair, until, what with satin puffs and frame, jade-tipped silver hairpins, rosettes, and flowers, her headgear stood over a foot high above her forehead, on which was the bride's red round spot. Then, when the happy maiden had sufficiently admired herself in the metal mirror and heard the praises of her attendant virgins, she entered the bridal palanquin -- a gorgeous mass of splendor. According to custom, her eyes were sealed shut and covered with wax, for a Korean bride sees nothing of her husband until the end of the feast, when she meets him in the bridal chamber. So to his house she was carried in great pomp and with gay attendance of brilliantly arrayed maidens. The marriage ceremony and the grand supper were happy affairs for all the guests, even though the bride, according to Korean etiquette, was as if blind, quietly and patiently waiting sightless throughout the whole joyful occasion. The actual ceremony was witnessed only by the foster parents and the bridegroom. When in the bridal chamber, the bride having unsealed her eyes, and her vision being clear, she looked up at the one she had married and found not a man, but a frog, she was furiously angry. She burst out into a protest against having such a bridegroom. Gently and in tenderest tones the bridegroom attempted first to comfort her. Then, handing her a pair of scissors, he begged her to rip open the skin along his back from shoulder to thigh, for it was very tight and he was suffering pain from it. In her bitter disappointment at being married to a frog, she seized the scissors and almost viciously began to cut from nape to waist. Her surprise was great to find what seemed to be silk underneath the speckled skin. When she had slit down two yards or so, her husband the frog stood upon his hind legs. He twisted himself about as if in a convulsion, pulled his whole speckled hide hard with his front paws, and then jumping out of his skin, stood before his bride a prince. Fair, tall, of superb figure, and gorgeously arrayed, he was the ideal of her dreams. A jeweled baldric bound his waist, embroidery of golden dragons on his shoulders and breast told of his rank, while on his head was the cap of royalty with a sparkling diamond in the centre. Yet no clothes, handsome as they were, could compare in beauty with his glorious manhood. Never had she seen so fair a mortal. Happy was the bride whose feelings were thus changed in a moment from repulsion and horror to warmest affection and strongest veneration. The next morning when, to the amazement of his foster father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Pak, the prince presented himself and his bride at breakfast, he told the story of his life. As son of the King of the Stars he had committed some offense, in punishment for which his father condemned him to live upon the earth in the form of a frog. Furthermore he had laid upon his son the duty of performing three tasks. These must be done before he should be allowed to come back and live in Star Land. These were, to drink up all the water in the lake, to eat all the fish, and to win a human bride, the handsomest woman in the world. All the precious things which he had presented to Pak and his wife to make their old days comfortable, and the gifts sent to the bride's house before her wedding day, had come by power from the skies. Now, leaving his foster parents on earth to enjoy their gifts, he must return home to his father, taking his bride with him. Scarcely had he spoken these words than a chariot and horses, silver bright, appeared at the door of the house. Bowing low to his foster parents, and stepping in with his bride, the pair disappeared beyond the clouds. From this time forth a new double star was seen in the sky.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,Bola,NA,NA,NA,"Then the Rakshasi's daughter said, 'What, mother! Do you say so? You are constantly eating fresh bodies; how can there not be an odor of them?' After that, the Rakshasi, taking those words for the truth, went to sleep. At dawn on the following day, as soon as she arose, the Rakshasi went to seek human flesh for food. After she had gone, the Rakshasa-daughter, taking out the prince who was shut up in the box, told that prince a. device on going away with the Jeweled Golden Cock: 'Elder brother, if you. are going away with the cock, take some cords and fasten them round my shoulders. Having put them round me, take the cock, and having mounted the horse, go off, making him bound quickly. When you have gone, I shall cry out. Mother comes when I give three calls. After she has come, loosening me will occupy much time; then you will be able to get away.' In the way she said, the prince tied the Rakshasa-daughter, and taking the Jeweled Golden Cock mounted the horse, and making it bound quickly came away. As that Rakshasa-daughter said, while she was calling out, the Rakshasi came. Having come, after she looked about (she found that) the Rakshasa-daughter was tied, and the Jeweled Golden Cock had been taken away. After she had asked, 'Who was it? Who took it?' the Rakshasa-daughter said, 'I don't know who it was.' After that, she very quickly unfastened the Rakshasa-daughter, and both of them came running to eat that prince. The prince was unable to go quickly. While going, the prince turned round, and on looking back saw that this Rakshasi and the Rakshasa-daughter were coming running to eat that prince. After that, he cast down the thorn which the above-mentioned king of the third city gave him, having told a thorn fence to be created. A thorn fence was created. Having jumped over it, they came on. After that, when he had put down the piece of stone which the king of the second city gave him, and told a mountain to be created a mountain was created. They sprang over that mountain also, and came on. After that, he cast down the charcoal which the king of the first city gave him, having told a fire fence to be created. In that very manner, a fire fence was created. Having come to it, while jumping over it, both of them were burnt and died. From that place, the prince came along. While coming, he arrived at the Indi tree on which he had threaded the rice, and having taken off it all that dried-up rice, he began to eat it. On coming to the end of it, the person who was like that prince again became a frog. After he became a frog, the clothes that he was wearing, and the horse, and the Jeweled Golden Cock vanished. Out of grief on that account, that frog died at that very place.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Enchanted Frog,Germany,NA,NA,"The oldest asked for a silk dress, 'and it must be made of three kinds of silk.' The second desired a feathered hat, 'and it must have three kinds of feathers.' The youngest finally said, 'Bring me a rose, dear father, and it must be fresh and have three colors.' The merchant promised to do this, kissed his daughters, and departed. After arriving in the foreign land, he ordered the dress of three kinds of silk for his oldest daughter and the hat with three kinds of feathers for the second one. Both were soon finished, and of seldom splendor. Then he sent messengers throughout the entire country to seek a three-colored rose for his youngest and dearest daughter, but they all returned empty handed, even though the merchant had promised a high price, and even though there were more roses there than there are daisies here. Sadly he set off for home and was downhearted the entire voyage. This side of the ocean he came to a large garden in which there was nothing but roses and roses. He went inside and looked, and behold, on a slender bush in the middle of the garden there was a three-colored rose. Filled with joy, he plucked it, and was about to leave, when he was magically frozen in place. A voice behind him cried out, 'What do you want in my garden?' He looked up. A large frog was sitting there on the bank of a clear pond staring at him with its goggle-eyes. It said, 'You have broken my dear rose. This will cost you your life unless you give me your youngest daughter to wife.' The merchant was terrified. He begged and he pleaded, but all to no avail, and in the end he had to agree to marry his dearest daughter to the ugly frog. He could now move his feet, and he freely walked out of the garden. The frog called out after him, 'In seven days I shall come for my wife!' With great sorrow the merchant gave his youngest daughter the fresh rose and told her what had happened. When the terrible day arrived, she crept under her bed, for she did not at all want to go. At the hour of noon a stately carriage drove up. The frog sent his servants into the house, and they immediately went to the bedroom and dragged the screaming maiden from beneath her bed, then carried her to the carriage. The horses leaped forward, and a short time later they were in the blossoming rose garden. In the middle of the garden, immediately behind the clear pond, there stood a small house. They took the bride into the house and laid her on a soft bed. The frog, however, sprang into the water. Darkness fell, and after the maiden had awakened from her unconsciousness, she heard the frog outside singing wonderfully sweet melodies. As midnight approached, he sang ever more sweetly, and came closer and closer to her. At midnight the bedroom door opened, and the frog jumped onto her bed. However, he had touched her with his sweet songs, and she took him into bed with her and warmly covered him up. The next morning when she opened her eyes, behold, the ugly frog was now the handsomest prince in the world. He thanked her with all his heart, saying, 'You have redeemed me and are now my wife!' And they lived long and happily together.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,"The Frog King; or, Iron Heinrich",Germany,NA,NA,"Horrified, the princess followed it with her eyes, but the well was so deep that she could not see its bottom. Then she began to cry bitterly, 'I'd give anything, if only I could get my ball back: my clothes, my precious stones, my pearls, anything in the world.' At this a frog stuck his head out of the water and said, 'Princess, why are you crying so bitterly?' 'Oh,' she said, 'you ugly frog, how can you help me? My golden ball has fallen into the well.' The frog said, 'I do not want your pearls, your precious stones, and your clothes, but if you'll accept me as a companion and let me sit next to you and eat from your plate and sleep in your bed, and if you'll love and cherish me, then I'll bring your ball back to you.' The princess thought, 'What is this stupid frog trying to say? After all, he does have to stay here in the water. But still, maybe he can get my ball. I'll go ahead and say yes,' and she said aloud, 'Yes, for all I care. Just bring me back my golden ball, and I'll promise everything.' The frog stuck his head under the water and dove to the bottom. He returned a short time later with the golden ball in his mouth and threw it onto the land. When the princess saw her ball once again, she rushed toward it, picked it up, and was so happy to have it in her hand again, that she could think of nothing else than to run home with it. The frog called after her, 'Wait, princess, take me with you like you promised,' but she paid no attention to him. The next day the princess was sitting at her table when she heard something coming up the marble steps: plop, plop. Then there came a knock at the door, and a voice called out, 'Princess, princess, open the door for me!' She ran and opened the door. It was the frog, whom she had put completely out of her mind. Frightened, she slammed the door shut and returned to the table. The king saw that her heart was pounding and asked, 'Why are you afraid?' 'There is a disgusting frog out there,' she said, 'who got my golden ball out of the water. I promised him that he could be my companion, but I didn't think that he could leave his water, but now he is just outside the door and wants to come in.' Just then there came a second knock at the door, and a voice called out: After she had sat down again, he called out, 'Lift me up onto your chair and let me sit next to you.' The princess did not want to, but the king commanded her to do it. When the frog was seated next to her he said, 'Now push your golden plate closer. I want to eat from it.' She had to do this as well. When he had eaten all he wanted, he said, 'Now I am tired and want to sleep. Take me to your room, make your bed, so that we can lie in it together.' The princess was horrified when she heard that. She was afraid of the cold frog and did not dare to even touch him, and yet he was supposed to lie next to her in her bed; she began to cry and didn't want to at all. Then the king became angry and commanded her to do what she had promised. There was no helping it; she had to do what her father wanted, but in her heart she was bitterly angry. She picked up the frog with two fingers, carried him to her room, and climbed into bed, but instead of laying him next to herself, she threw him bang! against the wall. 'Now you will leave me in peace, you ugly frog!' But when the frog came down onto the bed, he was a handsome young prince, and he was her dear companion, and she held him in esteem as she had promised, and they fell asleep together with pleasure. The next morning the prince's faithful Heinrich arrived in a splendid carriage drawn by eight horses and decorated with feathers and glistening with gold. He had been so saddened by the prince's enchantment that he had had to place three iron bands around his heart to keep it from bursting in sorrow. The prince climbed into the carriage with the princess. His faithful servant stood at the rear to drive them to his kingdom. After they had gone a short distance, the prince heard a loud crack. He turned around and said:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Frog Prince (Grimm2),Germany,NA,NA,"The frog sprang back into the water, and when she drew another glassful it was so clear that the sun glistened in it with joy. She drank all she wanted and then took some up to her sisters, saying, 'Why were you so stupid as to be afraid of a frog?' The princess did not think anything more about it until that evening after she had gone to bed. Before she fell asleep she heard something scratching at the door and a voice singing: The next evening, when the princess once more had just gone to bed, he scratched and sang again at the door. The princess let him in, and he again lay at her feet until daylight came. He came again on the third evening, as on the two previous ones. 'This is the last time that I'll let you in,' said the princess. 'It will not happen again in the future.' Then the frog jumped under her pillow, and the princess fell asleep. She awoke in the morning, thinking that the frog would hop away once again, but now a beautiful young prince was standing before her. He told her that he had been an enchanted frog and that she had broken the spell by promising to be his sweetheart. Then they both went to the king who gave them his blessing, and they were married. The two other sisters were angry with themselves that they had not taken the frog for their sweetheart.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Frog Prince (Parker),Sri Lanka (Northwestern Province),NA,NA,"During the time while she was getting a living in this way, she bore a frog, which she reared there. When it was grown up, the king of that city caused this proclamation to be made by beat of tom-toms, 'I will give half my kingdom, and goods amounting to an elephant's load to the person who brings the Jeweled Golden Cock that is at the house of the Rakshasi (ogress). The frog took the bundle of rice, and hanging it from his shoulder, went to an indi (wild date) tree, scraped the leaf off a date spike (the mid-rib of the leaf), and strung the rice on it. While going away after stringing it, the frog then became like a very good-looking royal prince, and a horse and clothing for him made their appearance there. Putting on the clothes he mounted the horse, and making it bound along he went on till he came to a city. Hearing that he had arrived, the king of that city prepared quarters for this prince to stay at, and having given him ample food and drink, asked, 'Where art thou going?' Then the prince said, 'The king of our city has made a proclamation by beat of tom-toms, that he will give half his kingdom and an elephant's load of gold to the person who brings him the Jeweled Golden Cock that is at the Rakshasi's house. Because of it I am going to fetch the Jeweled Golden Cock.' The king, being pleased with the prince on account of it, gave him a piece of charcoal. 'Should you be unable to escape from the Rakshasi while returning after taking the Jeweled Golden Cock, tell this piece of charcoal to be created a fire-fence, and cast it down,' he said. Taking it, he went to another city. The king of that city in that very manner having prepared quarters, and made ready and given him food and drink, asked, 'Where art thou going?' The prince replied in the same words, 'I am going to bring the Jeweled Golden Cock that is at the house of the Rakshasi.' That king also being pleased on account of it, gave him a stone, 'Should you be unable to escape from the Rakshasi, tell this stone to be created a mountain, and cast it down,' he said. Taking the charcoal and the stone which those two kings gave him, he went to yet another city. The king also in that very manner having given him quarters, and food and drink, asked, 'Where art thou going?' The prince in that very way said, 'I am going to bring the Jeweled Golden Cock.' That king also being greatly pleased gave him a thorn. 'Should you be unable to escape from the Rakshasi, tell a thorn fence to be created, and cast down this thorn,' he said. On the next day he went to the house of the Rakshasi. She was not at home; the Rakshasi's daughter was there. That girl having seen the prince coming and not knowing him, asked 'Elder brother, elder brother, where are you going?' The prince said, 'Younger sister, I am not going anywhere whatever. I came to beg at your hands the Jeweled Golden Cock which you have got.' To that she replied, 'Elder brother, today indeed I am unable to give it. Tomorrow I can. Should my mother come now she will eat you; for that reason come and hide yourself.' Calling him into the house, she put him in a large trunk at the bottom of seven trunks, and shut him up in it. After a little time had passed, the Rakshasi came back. Having come and seen that the prince's horse was there, she asked her daughter, 'Whose is this horse?' Then the Rakshasi's daughter replied, 'Nobody's whatever. It came out of the jungle, and I caught it to ride on.' The Rakshasi having said, 'If so, it is good,' came in. While lying down to sleep at night, the sweet odor of the prince having reached the Rakshasi, she said to her daughter, 'What is this, Bola? A smell of a fresh human body is coming to me.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Frog Prince (Taylor),"A translation of the Grimms' ""Frog King"" by Edgar Taylor",NA,NA,"One fine evening a young princess went into a wood, and sat down by the side of a cool spring of water. She had a golden ball in her hand, which was her favorite plaything, and she amused herself with tossing it into the air and catching it again as it fell. After a time she threw it up so high that when she stretched out her hand to catch it, the ball bounded away and rolled along upon the ground, till at last it fell into the spring. The princess looked into the spring after her ball; but it was very deep, so deep that she could not see the bottom of it. Then she began to lament her loss, and said, 'Alas! If I could only get my ball again, I would give all my fine clothes and jewels, and everything that I have in the world.' Whilst she was speaking a frog put its head out of the water and said, 'Princess, why do you weep so bitterly?' 'Alas! said she, 'What can you do for me, you nasty frog? My golden ball has fallen into the spring.' The frog said, 'I want not your pearls and jewels and fine clothes; but if you will love me and let me live with you, and eat from your little golden plate, and sleep upon your little bed, I will bring you your ball again.' 'What nonsense,' thought the princess, 'This silly frog is talking! He can never get out of the well. However, he may be able to get my ball for me; and therefore I will promise him what he asks.' So she said to the frog, 'Well, if you will bring me my ball, I promise to do all you require.' Then the frog put his head down, and dived deep under the water; and after a little while he came up again with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the ground. As soon as the young princess saw her ball, she ran to pick it up, and was so overjoyed to have it in her hand again, that she never thought of the frog, but ran home with it as fast as she could. The frog called after her, 'Stay, princess, and take me with you as you promised.' But she did not stop to hear a word. The next day, just as the princess had sat down to dinner, she heard a strange noise, tap-tap, as if somebody was coming up the marble staircase. And soon afterwards something knocked gently at the door, and said, Then the princess ran to the door and opened it, and there she saw the frog, whom she had quite forgotten. She was terribly frightened, and shutting the door as fast as she could, came back to her seat. The king, her father, asked her what had frightened her. 'There is a nasty frog,' said she, 'at the door, who lifted my ball out of the spring this morning. I promised him that he should live with me here, thinking that he could never get out of the spring; but there he is at the door and wants to come in!' While she was speaking the frog knocked again at the door, and said, The king said to the young princess, 'As you have made a promise, you must keep it. So go and let him in.' She did so, and the frog hopped into the room, and came up close to the table. 'Pray lift me upon a chair,' said he to the princess, 'and let me sit next to you.' As soon as she had done this, the frog said, 'Put your plate closer to me that I may eat out of it.' This she did. And when he had eaten as much as he could, he said, 'Now I am tired. Carry me upstairs and put me into your little bed.' And the princess took him up in her hand and put him upon the pillow of her own little bed, where he slept all night long. As soon as it was light he jumped up, hopped downstairs, and went out of the house. 'Now,' thought the princess, 'he is gone, and I shall be troubled with him no more.' But she was mistaken; for when night came again, she heard the same tapping at the door, and when she opened it, the frog came in and slept upon her pillow as before till the morning broke. And the third night he did the same; but when the princess awoke on the following morning, she was astonished to see, instead of the frog, a handsome prince gazing on her with the most beautiful eyes that ever were seen, and standing at the head of her bed. He told her that he had been enchanted by a malicious fairy, who had changed him into the form of a frog, in which he was fated to remain till some princess should take him out of the spring and let him sleep upon her bed for three nights. 'You,' said the prince, 'have broken this cruel charm, and now I have nothing to wish for but that you should go with me into my father's kingdom, where I will marry you, and love you as long as you live.' The young princess, you may be sure, was not long in giving her consent; and as they spoke a splendid carriage drove up with eight beautiful horses decked with plumes of feathers and golden harness, and behind rode the prince's servant, the faithful Henry, who had bewailed the misfortune of his dear master so long and bitterly that his heart had well nigh burst. Then all set out full of joy for the prince's kingdom, where they arrived safely, and lived happily a great many years. Edgar Taylor, the translator of 'The Frog King,' departs from his source in substantial ways. Not only does he change the title, but he totally revises the ending, replacing the Grimms' violent resolution with one of passivity. It appears that, in his judgment, the English readers of the 1820's, unlike their German counterparts, would not accept a heroine who throws her frisky bed companion against the wall.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Kind Stepdaughter and the Frog,England,NA,NA,"When she returned home it happened as he said; and the stepmother, learning how it had come about, sent her own daughter to the pump. When she got there the little frog spoke to her and asked her not to throw dirty water down, and she replied, 'Oh! you nasty, dirty little thing, I won't do as you ask me.' Then the frog said, 'Whenever you speak, frogs, and toads, and snakes shall drop from your mouth.' She went home and it happened as the frog had said. At night when they were sitting at the table a little voice was heard singing outside: When the stepdaughter went to the door, there was the little frog. She brought him in in spite of her stepmother, took him on her knee, and fed him with bits from her plate. After a while he sang: So, unknown to her stepmother, she laid him at the foot of her bed, as she said he was a poor, harmless thing. Then she fell asleep and forgot all about him. Next morning there stood a beautiful prince, who said he had been enchanted by a wicked fairy and was to be a frog till a girl would let him sleep with her. They were married, and lived happily in his beautiful castle ever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Maiden and the Frog,England,NA,NA,"The girl, indeed, was compelled to do the hardest work, for her mother got their principal means of subsistence by traveling to places in the neighborhood with small articles for sale, and when she came home in the afternoon she was not able to do much more work. Nearly the whole domestic labor of the cottage devolved therefore on the daughter, the most wearisome part of which consisted in the necessity of fetching all the water they required from a well on the other side of the hill, there being no river or spring near their own cottage. It happened one morning that the daughter had the misfortune, in going to the well, to break the only pitcher they possessed, and having no other utensil she could use for the purpose, she was obliged to go home without bringing any water. When her mother returned, she was unfortunately troubled with excessive thirst, and the girl, though trembling for the consequences of her misfortune, told her exactly the circumstance that had occurred. The old woman was furiously angry, and so far from making any allowances for her daughter, pointed to a sieve which happened to be on the table, and told her to go at once to the well and bring her some water in that, or never venture to appear again in her sight. The young maiden, frightened almost out of her wits by her mother's fury, speedily took the sieve, and though she considered the task a hopeless one to accomplish, almost unconsciously hastened to the well. When she arrived there, beginning to reflect on the painful situation in which she was placed, and the utter impossibility of her obtaining a living by herself, she threw herself down on the brink of the well in an agony of despair. Whilst she was in this condition, a large from came up to the top of the water, and asked her for what she was crying so bitterly. She was somewhat surprised at this, but not being the least frightened, told him the whole story, and that she was crying because she could not carry away water in the sieve. 'Is that all?' said the frog; 'cheer up, my hinny! for if you will only let me sleep with you for two nights, and then chop off my head, I will tell you how to do it.' The maiden thought the frog could not be in earnest, but she was too impatient to consider much about it, and at once made the required promise. The frog then instructed her in the following words:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Paddo,Scotland,NA,NA,"'But,' says the paddo, 'an ye'll be my wife, I'll gie ye plenty o' water.' And the lassie, no thinking that the poor beast could mean anything serious, said she wad be his wife, for the sake o' getting the water. So she got the water into her dish, and gaed away hame to her mother, and thought nae mair about the paddo, till that night, when, just as she and her mother were about to go their beds, something came to the door, and when they listened, they heard this sang: Says the mother to the dochter, 'What noise is that at the door?' 'Hout,' says the dochter, 'it's naething but a filthy paddo.' 'Open the door,' says the mother, 'to the poor paddo.' So the lassie opened the door, and the paddo came loup-loup-louping in, and sat down by the ingle-side. Then he sings: 'Hout,' quo' the dochter, 'wad I gie a filthy paddo his supper?' 'O ay,' said the mother, 'e'n gie the poor paddo his supper.' So the paddo got his supper; and after that he sings again: 'O ay,' says the mother, 'put the poor paddo to bed.' And so she put the paddo to his bed. (Here let us abridge a little.) Then the paddo sang again:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Queen Who Sought a Drink from a Certain Well,Scotland,NA,NA,"The daughter went, and she reached the well. A losgann (frog or toad) came up to ask her if she would wed him, if she should get a drink for her mother. 'I will not wed thee, hideous creature! on any account,' said she. 'Well then,' said he, 'thou shalt not get the water.' She went away home, and her mother sent away her sister that was nearest to her, to seek a drink of the water. She reached the well, and the toad came up and asked her if she would marry him if she should get the water. 'I won't marry thee, hideous creature!' said she. 'Thou shalt not get the water then,' said he. She went home, and her sister that was youngest went to seek the water. When she reached the well the toad came up as he used, and asked her if she would marry him if she should get the water. 'If I have no other way to get healing for my mother, I will marry thee,' said she; and she got the water, and she healed her mother. They had betaken themselves to rest in the night when the toad came to the door saying: But he was not pleased, and he began saying, 'A chaoimheag, a chaoimheag, an cuimhneach leat an gealladh beag a thug thu aig an tobar dhomh, a ghaoil, a ghaoil.' Then she got up and made him a bed beside her own bed. But he was without ceasing, saying, 'A chaoimheag, a chaoimheag, an cuimhneach leat an gealladh beag a thug thu aig an tobar dhomh, a ghaoil, a ghaoil.' But she took no notice of his complaining, till he said to her, 'There is an old rusted glave [sword] behind thy bed, with which thou hadst better take off my head than be holding me longer in torture.' She took the glave and cut the head off him. When the steel touched him, he grew a handsome youth; and he gave many thanks to the young wife, who had been the means of putting off him the spells under which he had endured for a long time. Then he got his kingdom, for he was a king; and he married the princess, and they were long alive and merry together. The lady who has been so kind as to write down this, and other stories, is one of my oldest friends. She has brought up a large family, and her excellent memory now enables her to remember tales, which she had gathered during a long life passed in the West Highlands, where her husband was a respected minister. The story is evidently a Celtic version of the 'Wearie Well at the Warldis End,' of which Chambers has published one Scotch version, to which Grimm refers in notes 'Der Froschkönig,' in his third volume. There are many versions still current in Scotland, told in broad Scots; and it can be traced back to 1548. According to Grimm it belongs to the oldest in Germany. This version clearly belongs to the Gaelic language, for the speech of the frog is an imitation of the gurgling and quarking of spring frogs in a pond, which I have vainly endeavored to convey to an English reader by English letters; but which is absurdly like, when repeated in Gaelic with this intention. The persevering, obstinate repetition of the same sounds is also exceedingly like the habit of frogs, when disturbed, but not much frightened. Let anyone try the experiment of throwing a stone into the midst of a frog concert, and he will hear the songsters, after a moment of stillness, begin again. First a half-smothered guark guark; then another begins, half under water, with a gurgle, and then more and more join in till the pond is in full chorus once again. Guark, guark, gooill -- -- gooark gooill -- --. Holy healing wells are common all over the Highlands; and people still leave offerings of pins and nails, and bits of rag, though few would confess it. There is a well in Islay where I myself have, after drinking, deposited copper caps amongst a board of pins and buttons, and similar gear, placed in chinks in the rocks and trees at the edge of the 'Witches' Well.' There is another well with similar offerings, freshly place beside it in an island in Loch Maree in Ross-shire; and similar wells are to be found in many other places in Scotland. For example, I learn from Sutherland, that 'a well in the black Isle of Cromarty near Rosehaugh has miraculous healing powers. A country woman tells me that about forty years ago she remembers it being surrounded by a crowd of people every first Tuesday in June who bathed or drank of it before sunrise. Each patient tied a string or rag to one of the trees that overhung it before leaving. It was sovereign for headaches. Mr. __ remembers to have seen a well here called Mary's Well, hung round with votive rags.' Holy healing wells are common all over the Highlands; and people still leave offerings of pins and nails, and bits of rag, though few would confess it. There is a well in Islay where I myself have, after drinking, deposited copper caps amongst a board of pins and buttons, and similar gear, placed in chinks in the rocks and trees at the edge of the 'Witches' Well.' There is another well with similar offerings, freshly place beside it in an island in Loch Maree in Ross-shire; and similar wells are to be found in many other places in Scotland. For example, I learn from Sutherland, that 'a well in the black Isle of Cromarty near Rosehaugh has miraculous healing powers. A country woman tells me that about forty years ago she remembers it being surrounded by a crowd of people every first Tuesday in June who bathed or drank of it before sunrise. Each patient tied a string or rag to one of the trees that overhung it before leaving. It was sovereign for headaches. Mr. __ remembers to have seen a well here called Mary's Well, hung round with votive rags.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Well of the World's End,Scotland,NA,NA,"At last, one day, the stepmother thought to get rid of her altogether; so she handed her a sieve and said to her, 'Go, fill it at the Well of the World's End and bring it home to me full, or woe betide you' For she thought she would never be able to find the Well of the World's End, and, if she did, how could she bring home a sieve full of water? Well, the girl started off, and asked everyone she met to tell her where was the Well of the World's End. But nobody knew, and she didn't know what to do, when a queer little old woman, all bent double, told her where it was, and how she could get to it. So she did what the old woman told her, and at last arrived at the Well of the World's End. But when she dipped the sieve in the cold, cold water, it all ran out again. She tried and she tried again, but every time it was the same; and at last she sate down and cried as if her heart would break. Suddenly she heard a croaking voice, and she looked up and saw a great frog with goggle eyes looking at her and speaking to her. 'What's the matter, dearie?' it said. 'Oh, dear, oh dear,' she said, 'my stepmother has sent me all this long way to fill this sieve with water from the Well of the World's End, and I can't fill it no how at all.' 'Well,' said the frog, ' if you promise me to do whatever I bid you for a whole night long, I'll tell you how to fill it.' So the girl agreed, and then the frog said: and then it gave a hop, skip and jump, and went flop into the Well of the World's End. So the girl looked about for some moss, and lined the bottom of the sieve with it, and over that she put some clay, and then she dipped it once again into the Well of the World's End; and this time, the water didn't run out, and she turned to go away. Just then the frog popped up its head out of the Well of the World's End, and said, 'Remember your promise.' 'All right,' said the girl; for thought she, 'What harm can a frog do me?' So she went back to her stepmother, and brought the sieve full of water from the Well of the World's End. The stepmother was fine and angry, but she said nothing at all. That very evening they heard something tap tapping at the door low down, and a voice cried out: 'Whatever can that be?' cried out the stepmother, and the girl had to tell her all about it, and what she had promised the frog. 'Girls must keep their promises,' said the stepmother. 'Go and open the door this instant.' For she was glad the girl would have to obey a nasty frog. So the girl went and opened the door, and there was the frog from the Well of the World's End. And it hopped, and it skipped, and it jumped, till it reached the girl, and then it said: But the girl didn't like to, till her stepmother said, 'Lift it up this instant, you hussy! Girls must keep their promises!' So at last she lifted the frog up on to her lap, and it lay there for a time, till at last it said: Well, she didn't mind doing that, so she got it a bowl of milk and bread, and fed it well. And when the frog had finished, it said: But that the girl wouldn't do, till her stepmother said, 'Do what you promised, girl; girls must keep their promises. Do what you're bid, or out you go, you and your froggie.' So the girl took the frog with her to bed, and kept it as far away from her as she could. Well, just as the day was beginning to break what should the frog say but: At first the girl wouldn't, for she thought of what the frog had done for her at the Well of the World's End. But when the frog said the words over again, she went and took an axe and chopped off its head, and lo! and behold, there stood before her a handsome young prince, who told her that he had been enchanted by a wicked magician, and he could never be unspelled till some girl would do his bidding for a whole night, and chop off his head at the end of it. The stepmother was that surprised when she found the young prince instead of the nasty frog, and she wasn't best pleased, you may be sure, when the prince told her that he was going to marry her stepdaughter because she had unspelled him. So they were married and went away to live in the castle of the king, his father, and all the stepmother had to console her was, that it was all through her that her stepdaughter was married to a prince.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
440,The Wonderful Frog,Hungary,NA,NA,"The girl went, but when she came to the well a huge frog called out to her from the bottom, that he would not allow her to draw water in her jug until she threw him down the gold ring on her finger. 'Nothing else? Is that all you want?' replied the girl. 'I won't give away my rings to such an ugly creature as you.' And she returned as she came with the empty pitchers. So the father sent the second girl, and she fared as the first; the frog would not let her have any water, as she refused to throw down her gold ring. Her father gave his two elder daughters a good scolding, and then thus addressed the youngest, 'You go, Betsie, my dear, you have always been a clever girl. I'm sure you will be able to get some water, and will not allow your father to suffer thirst. So, shame your sisters!' Betsie picked up the pitchers and went, but the frog again refused the water unless she threw her ring down; but she, as she was very fond of her father, threw the ring in as demanded, and returned home with full pitchers to her father's great delight. In the evening, as soon as darkness set in, the frog crawled out of the well, and thus commenced to shout in front of Betsie's father's door, 'Father-in-law! Father-in-law! I should like something to eat.' The man got angry, and called out to his daughters; 'Give something in a broken plate to that ugly frog to gnaw.' 'Father-in-law! Father-in-law! This won't do for me; I want some roast meat on a tin plate,' retorted the frog. 'Give him something on a tin plate then, or else he will cast a spell on us,' said the father. The frog began to eat heartily, and, having had enough, again commenced to croak: 'Father-in-law! Father- in-law! I want something to drink.' 'Give him some slops in a broken pot,' said the father. 'Father-in-law! Father-in-law! I won't have this; I want some wine in a nice tumbler.' 'Give him some wine then,' angrily called out the father. He guzzled up his wine and began again, 'Father-in-law! Father-in-law! I would like to go to sleep.' 'Throw him some rags in a corner,' was the reply. 'Father-in-law! Father-in-law! I won't have that; I want a silk bed,' croaked the frog. This was also given to him; but no sooner has he gone to bed than again he began to croak, 'Father-in-law! Father-in-law! I want a girl, indeed.' 'Go, my daughter, and lie by the side of him,' said the father to the eldest. 'Father-in-law! Father-in law! I don't want that, I want another.' The father sent the second girl, but the frog again croaked: 'Father-in-law! Father-in-law! I don't want that, Betsie is the girl I want.' 'Go, my Betsie,' said the father, quite disheartened, 'else this confounded monster will cast a spell on us.' So Betsie went to bed with the frog, but her father thoughtfully left a lamp burning on the top of the oven; noticing which, the frog crawled out of bed and blew the lamp out. The father lighted it again, but the frog put it out as before, and so it happened a third time. The father saw that the frog would not yield, and was therefore obliged to leave his dear little Betsie in the dark by the side of the ugly frog, and felt great anxiety about her. In the morning, when the father and the two elder girls got up, they opened their eyes and mouths wide in astonishment, because the frog had disappeared, and by the side of Betsie they found a handsome Magyar lad, with auburn locks, in a beautiful costume, with gold braid and buttons and gold spurs on his boots. The handsome lad asked for Betsie's hand, and, having received the father's consent, they hastened to celebrate the wedding, so that christening might not follow the wedding too soon. The two elder sisters looked with invidious eyes on Betsie, as they also were very much smitten with the handsome lad. Betsie was very happy after, so happy that if anyone doubt it he can satisfy himself with his own eyes. If she is still alive, let him go and look for her, and try to find her in this big world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278A,How a Tortoise Came to Grief Because He Loved His Home Too Much,The Jataka,Link to additional Jataka Tales.,"Source (books.google.com): The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, translated by W. H. D. Rouse, vol. 2 (Cambridge: At the University Press, 1895), no. 178, pp. 55-56. Source (Internet Archive): The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, translated by W. H. D. Rouse, vol. 2 (Cambridge: At the University Press, 1895), no. 178, pp. 55-56.","Once on a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in a village as a potter's son. He plied the potter's trade, and had a wife and family to support. At that time there lay a great natural lake close by the great river of Benares. When there was much water, river and lake were one; but when the water was low, they were apart. Now fish and tortoises know by instinct when the year will be rainy and when there will be a drought. So at the time of our story the fish and tortoises which lived in that lake knew there would be a drought; and when the two were one water, they swam out of the lake into the river. But there was one tortoise that would not go into the river, because, said he, 'Here I was born, and here I have grown up, and here is my parents' home; leave it I cannot!' Then in the hot season the water all dried up. He dug a hole and buried himself, just in the place where the Bodhisatta was used to come for clay. There the Bodhisatta came to get some clay; with a big spade he dug down, till he cracked the tortoise' shell, turning him out on the ground as though he were a large piece of clay. In his agony the creature thought, 'Here I am, dying, all because I was too fond of my home to leave it!' And in the words of these verses following he made his moan: Here was I born, and here I lived; my refuge was the clay; And now the clay has played me false in a most grievous way; Thee, thee I call, O Bhaggava; hear what I have to say! Go where thou canst find happiness, where'er the place may be; Forest or village, there the wise both home and birthplace see; Go where there's life; nor stay at home for death to master thee. So he went on and on, talking to the Bodhisatta, till he died. The Bodhisatta picked him up, and collecting all the villagers addressed them thus: Look at this tortoise. When the other fish and tortoises went into the great river, he was too fond of home to go with them, and buried himself in the place where I get my clay. Then as I was digging for clay, I broke his shell with my big spade, and turned him out on the ground in the belief that he was a large lump of clay. Then he called to mind what he had done, lamented his fate in two verses of poetry, and expired. So you see he came to his end because he was too fond of his home. Take care not to be like this tortoise. Don't say to yourselves, 'I have sight, I have hearing, I have smell, I have taste, I have touch, I have a son, I have a daughter, I have numbers of men and maids for my service, I have precious gold.' Do not cleave to these things with craving and desire. Each being passes through three stages of existence.' Thus did he exhort the crowd with all a Buddha's skill. The discourse was bruited abroad all over India, and for full seven thousand years it was remembered. All the crowd abode by his exhortation; and gave alms and did good until at last they went to swell the hosts of heaven.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278A,The Three Fishes,The Masnavi,"Link to the Wikipedia articla on The Masnavi, a Persian poem written between about 1258 and 1273.","Source (Internet Archive): Masnavi i Ma'Navi: The Spiritual Couplets of Maulána Jalálu-'d-Dín Muhammad i Rúmí, translated and abridged by E. H. Whinfield (London: Trübner and Company, 1887), pp. 198-99.","There was in a secluded place a lake, which was fed by a running stream, and in this lake were three fishes, one very wise, the second half wise, and the third foolish. One day some fishermen passed by that lake, and having espied the fish, hastened home to fetch their nets. The fish also saw the fishermen and were sorely disquieted. The very wise fish, without a minute's delay, quitted the lake and took refuge in the running stream which communicated with it, and thus escaped the impending danger. The half wise fish delayed doing anything till the fishermen actually made their appearance with their nets. He then floated upon ths surface of the water, pretending to be dead, and the fisherman took him up and threw him into the stream, and by this devise he saved his life. But the foolish fish did nothing but swim wildly about, and was taken and killed by the fishermen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278A,The Two Frogs,Aesop,Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 278A*. Perry index 43.,"Source (books.google.com): George Fyler Townsend, Three Hundred Æsop's Fables, literally translated from the Greek (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1867), p. 104. Source (Internet Archive): George Fyler Townsend, Three Hundred Æsop's Fables, literally translated from the Greek (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1867), p. 104.","As they went along they chanced to pass a deep well, amply supplied with water, on seeing which one of the frogs said to the other, 'Let us descend and make our abode in this well. It will furnish us with shelter and food.' The other replied with greater caution, 'But suppose the water should fail us, how can we get out again from so great a depth?' Do nothing without a regard to the consequences.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278A,The Two Frogs Who Were Neighbours,Aesop,Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 278A. Perry index 69.,"Source (books.google.com): George Fyler Townsend, Three Hundred Æsop's Fables, literally translated from the Greek (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1867), p. 134. Source (Internet Archive): George Fyler Townsend, Three Hundred Æsop's Fables, literally translated from the Greek (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1867), p. 134.","He that lived in the pond warned his friend, and entreated him to change his residence, and to come and live with him, saying that he would enjoy greater safety from danger and more abundant food. The other refused, saying that he felt it so very hard to remove from a place to which he had become accustomed. A few days afterwards a heavy wagon passed through the gully, and crushed him to death under its wheels. A wilful man will have his way to his own hurt.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278A,Two Frogs That Wanted Water,Aesop,Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 278A*. Perry index 43.,"Source (books.google.com): Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists with Morals and Reflexions (London, 1692), fable 142, p. 129. Source (Internet Archive): Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists with Morals and Reflexions (London, 1692), pp. xxx.","Come (says one to t'other), let us e'en go down here, without looking any further. You say well, says her companion, but what if the water should fail us here too? How shall we get out again? The Moral: 'Tis good advice to look before we leape.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278A,Two Neighbour-Frogs,Aesop,Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 278A. Perry index 69.,"Source (books.google.com): Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists with Morals and Reflexions (London, 1692), fable 165, p. 138. Source (Internet Archive): Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists with Morals and Reflexions (London, 1692), fable 165, p. 138.","There were two neighbour-frogs. One of them liv'd in a pond, and the other in the highway hard-by. The pond-frog, finding the water begin to fail upon the road, would fain have gotten t'other frog over to her in the pool, where she might have been safe; but she was wonted to the place, she said, and would not remove. And what was the end on't now, but the wheel of a cart drove over her a while after, and crush'd her to pieces. The Moral: Some people are so listless and slothful that they'd rather lie still and die in a ditch, then stir one finger to help themselves out on't.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,A Ghostly Council Meeting,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Bernhard Baader, 'Gespenstige Rathsversammlung,' Neugesammelte Volkssagen aus dem Lande Baden und den angrenzenden Gegenden (Karlsruhe: A. Gessner'sche Buchhandlung, 1859), no. 132, p. 100. Source (Internet Archive): Bernhard Baader, 'Gespenstige Rathsversammlung,' Neugesammelte Volkssagen aus dem Lande Baden und den angrenzenden Gegenden (Karlsruhe: A. Gessner'sche Buchhandlung, 1859), no. 132, p. 100.","One girl volunteered to do this, and she took with her a switch and a black cat. Entering the council chamber she saw twelve ghostly councilmen seated around the table. They said to her, 'If you hadn't brought the switch and the black cat with you, we would be saying something different to you!' The terrified girl fled, and she died that same night.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,Do Not Disturb the Rest of the Dead,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): August Stöber, 'Störe die Ruhe der Todten nicht!' Die Sagen des Elsasses (St. Gallen: Scheitlin und Zollikofer, 1851), no. 201, p. 263. Source (Internet Archive): August Stöber, 'Störe die Ruhe der Todten nicht!' Die Sagen des Elsasses (St. Gallen: Scheitlin und Zollikofer, 1852), no. 201, p. 263.","In Mommenheim a young woman had been buried, and that night the young people who had accompanied her to the grave were now sitting together in the spinning room. The conversation turned to fear, and a girl said to everyone that she was afraid of nothing, whatever it might be. The others asked her if right now she dared to go to the graveyard by herself. 'Why not?' she said. 'And to show you that I've been there I'll bring back the cross with the wreath that we set up today on Fränzel's grave.' The others were amazed at this boldness. And indeed, the girl did go forth without a light and by herself. When she failed to return they became ill at ease. A few youths took a lantern and went to the graveyard. There they found the girl sitting on the grave with her hand on the crucifix. She was dead. Her head had been twisted around her neck. Note by Stöber: Twisting someone's head around their neck is normally attributed to the devil or the wild huntsman, if one calls on him or if one gives an answer to his call.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,Meg of Meldon,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Michael Aislabie Denham, The Denham Tracts: A Collection of Folklore, vol. 2, edited by James Hardy (London: Published for The Folklore Society by David Nutt, 1895), pp. 251-53. Source (Internet Archive): Michael Aislabie Denham, The Denham Tracts: A Collection of Folklore, vol. 2, edited by James Hardy (London: Published for The Folklore Society by David Nutt, 1895), pp. 251-53.","According to tradition, Meg of Meldon was stigmatized as a witch during her lifetime in seventeenth-century Northumberland. After her death she reappeared as a ghost at regular intervals, apparently with the only goal to frighten people. An individual, well known for his skepticism in regard to ghosts, had frequently heard of Meg's achievements in frightening people, but would not credit them. He, however, had no scruple in perpetuating the belief among the credulous, so one mirk night, dressed in white, he placed himself on the parapet wall of Meldon Bridge, and there sat awaiting passers-by. He had not stayed long till he found Meg herself seated alongside of him. 'You've come to fley [frighten],' said she, 'and I've come to fley, let's baith fley thegither.' At the same time she drew herself a little nearer him, while he, jealous of a too familiar intimacy, moved still further along. Meg repeated her movement, and he still shrunk from her approach. She at length came so close as to give him a push, which he hastily attempted to shun, but lost balance, and fell headlong into the water. Let us hope that Meg was rewarded with a respite for ducking the rival ghost. Another adventure in which Meg was concerned was sent me in 1877 by a clergyman in that neighborhood, in the hand writing of the narrator, a tradesman, I believe, in Whalton. I shall reproduce it pretty nearly in the language in which it was told. Two dwellers in the hamlet of Thornton who believed in Meg's appearance as a ghost, and a friend of theirs, a Scotchman, who could not be brought to credit it, sat one night after having been at the smithy, in a public house at Meldon, disputing as to her existence or non existence as a spiritual visitant. They then left in company for Thornton. At a certain part of the road one of the two believers, named Todd, gave some chains he was carrying from the smith's shop to his mate and fell behind. As soon as the other two were out of sight and hearing, he took a shortcut across a corner of a field and placed himself behind a hedge at the foot of a bank, a favorite haunt of Meg, and getting himself into the most ghostly style he could assume, he awaited their arrival. The Scotchman came up first, shouting, 'Where are ye, Meg? Let's see you, Meg!' when Todd stepped out into view, saying, 'Here's Meg, what want ye wi' Meg?' The other lad dropped the chains and made off, and the Scotchman after him. Todd, thinking he had overdone the thing, picked up the chains and ran after them to stop them, but the faster he ran the faster ran they, the tinkling of the chains behind keeping up their terror. The two lads had got upon Meldon Bridge over the Wansbeck, which was then a very narrow and steep structure. At the one end of it they disturbed a kyloe [a breed of Scottish highland cattle] that had got out of a field. This started out as Todd was passing, and 'gave a rout,' and ran headlong across the bridge behind him. Todd, taking the beast for Meg, increased his speed, the most frightened of the three. Thus there were three men and a kyloe all terrified and running at their utmost pith. The three men arrived home in a serious state of fear, from which they were long recovering. The narrator adds a remark of identification. 'Todd was said to be the father or grandfather to Jack Todd, the wood wagoner. Both the public houses in Meldon were closed before my day.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,The Chivalrous Devil,England,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): James Bowker, Goblin Tales of Lancashire (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1883), pp. 97-103.","About half-a-century ago there lived, in a lane leading away from a little village near Garstang, a poor idiot named Gregory. He was at once the sport and the terror of the young folks. Uniformly kind to them, carefully convoying them to the spots where, in his lonely rambles, he had noticed birds' nests, or pressing upon them the wildflowers he had gathered in the neighboring woods and thickets, he received at their ungrateful hands all kinds of ill treatment, not always stopping short of personal violence. In this respect, however, the thoughtless children only followed the example set them by their elders, for seldom did poor Gregory pass along the row of cottages, dignified by the name of street, which constituted the village, without an unhandsome head being projected from the blacksmith's or cobbler's shop, or from a doorway, and a cruel taunt being sent after the idiot, who, in his ragged clothing, with his handful of harebells and primroses, and a wreath of green leaves round his battered, old hat, jogged along towards his mother's cottage, singing as he went, in a pathetic monotone, a snatch of an old Lancashire ballad. In accordance with that holy law which, under such circumstances, influences woman's heart, the mother loved this demented lad with passionate fondness, all the tenderness with which her nature had been endowed having been called forth by the needs of the afflicted child, whose only haven of refuge from the harshness of his surroundings and the cruelty of those who, had not they been as ignorant as the hogs they fed, would have pitied and protected him, was her breast. Lavishing all her affection upon the poor lad, she had no kindness to spare for those who tormented him; and abstaining from any of those melodramatic and vulgar curses with which a person of less education would have followed those who abused her child, she studiously held herself aloof from her neighbors, and avoided meeting them, except when she was compelled to purchase food or other articles for her little household. This conduct gave an excuse for much ill feeling, and as the woman had no need to toil for her daily bread, and as her cottage was the neatest in the district, there was much jealousy. One night, at a jovial gathering, it was arranged that a practical joke, of what was considered a very humorous kind, should be played upon the idiot. The boors selected one of their party, whose task it should be to attire himself in a white sheet, and to emerge into the lane when the poor lad should make his appearance. In accordance with this plan the pack of hobbledehoys watched the cottage night after night, in the hope of seeing the idiot leave the dwelling, and at length their patience was rewarded. They immediately hid themselves in the ditch, while the mock ghost concealed himself behind the trunk of a tree. The lad, not suspecting any evil, came along, humming, in his melancholy monotone, the usual fragment, and just before he reached the tree the sheeted figure slowly stepped forth to the accompaniment of the groanings and bellowings of his associates. They had expected to see the idiot flee in terror; but instead of so doing, he laughed loudly at the white figure, and then suddenly, as the expression of his face changed to one of intense interest, he shouted, 'Oh, oh! A black one! A black one!' Sure enough, a dark and terrible figure stood in the middle of the road. The mock ghost fled, with his companions at his heels, the real specter chasing them hotly, and the idiot bringing up the rear, shouting at the top of his voice, 'Run, black devil! Catch white devil!' They were not long in reaching the village, down the street of which they ran faster than they ever had run before. Several of them darted into the smithy, where the blacksmith was scattering the sparks right and left as he hammered away at the witch-resisting horseshoes, and others fled into the inn, where they startled the gathered company of idle gossips; but the mock ghost kept on wildly, looking neither to the left nor to the right. The idiot had kept close behind the phantom at the heels of the mock ghost, and when at the end of the village the specter vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, the lad ran a little faster and took its place. Of this, however, the white-sheeted young fellow was not aware, and, fearing every moment that the shadow would catch him in its awful embrace, he dashed down a by lane. Before he got very far, however, the idiot, who had gradually been lessening the distance between them, overtook and seized him by the neck. With a terrible cry the rustic fell headlong into the ditch, dragging Gregory with him as he fell. The latter was soon upon his feet, and dancing about the lane as he cried, 'Catch white devil! Catch white devil!' The mock ghost, however, lay quiet enough among the nettles. Roused by the story told by the affrighted ones who had rushed so unceremoniously into their presence, as well as by the startling cry of 'Run, black devil! Catch white devil!' which the idiot had shouted as he sped past the door, several of the topers emerged from their abiding place; and as nothing could be seen of either mock ghost, specter, or idiot, they bravely determined to go in search of them. As they passed along the road from the village, their attention was attracted by the cries which seemed to come from the lonely lane, and somewhat nervously making their way along it, they soon saw the idiot dancing about the side of the ditch. With a sudden access of courage, due to the presence of anything human, however weak, they hurried along, and as they drew nearer, the idiot paused in his gambols, and pointed to the mock ghost, who lay stretched in the shadow of the hedgerow. He was soon carried away to the village, where he lay ill for weeks. The kindness of Gregory's mother to the sick lad's parents, who were very poor and could ill afford to provide the necessary comforts his condition required, caused public feeling to turn in her favor, and those who formerly had been loudest in defaming her became her warmest eulogists. Between the idiot and the young fellow, too, a strange friendship sprang up, and the pair might often be seen passing along the lanes, the idiot chanting his melancholy fragments to the companion whose cap he had adorned with wreaths of wildflowers. With such a protector the idiot was quite safe, and, indeed, had the village children been wishful to torment Gregory, if the presence of this companion had not sufficed to restrain them, they had only to remember that it was in defense of poor Gregory the Evil One himself had raced through the village.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,The Death Shroud,Germany,Haase's source: 'Communicated by Teacher Fehse in Dierberg.',"Source (books.google.com): Karl Eduard Haase, 'Das Totenhemde,' Volkstümliches aus der Grafschaft Ruppin und Umgegend, vol. 1: Sagen (Neu-Ruppin: Verlag von Rud. Petrenz, 1887), no. 49, p. 53. Source (Internet Archive): Karl Eduard Haase, 'Das Totenhemde,' Volkstümliches aus der Grafschaft Ruppin und Umgegend, vol. 1: Sagen (Neu-Ruppin: Verlag von Rud. Petrenz, 1887), no. 49, p. 53.","The dead man suddenly appeared and demanded his shroud. The servant escaped into the church and barred the door. The dead man whined and pled for his shroud, but did not receive it. Finally he asked the servant to at least stick a corner of it through the keyhole, so that he could tear off a piece. The servant did this, and the door flew open with a thunder-like crash. The servant was found inside the church, almost dead. He became sick and suffered an early death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,The Peasant and the Owls,Germany,"Haase's source: 'Oral, from Brunne.'","Source (books.google.com): Karl Eduard Haase, 'Der Bauer und die Eulen,' Volkstümliches aus der Grafschaft Ruppin und Umgegend, vol. 1: Sagen (Neu-Ruppin: Verlag von Rud. Petrenz, 1887), no. 111, p. 111. Source (Internet Archive): Karl Eduard Haase, 'Der Bauer und die Eulen,' Volkstümliches aus der Grafschaft Ruppin und Umgegend, vol. 1: Sagen (Neu-Ruppin: Verlag von Rud. Petrenz, 1887), no. 111, p. 111.","One night a peasant was walking through the woods, and he thought, 'I want to see if what they say about the owls is true.' So he called out, and behold, the owls came flying by from all sides and pecked away at him. The next morning he still had his eyesight, but he was found in the woods badly pecked and covered with blood.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,The Preacher and the Ghost,Sweden,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Arvid August Afzelius, Volkssagen und Volkslieder aus Schwedens älterer und neuerer Zeit, vol. 3 (Leipzig: Chr. E. Kollmann, 1842), p. 245. Source (Internet Archive): Arvid August Afzelius, Volkssagen und Volkslieder aus Schwedens älterer und neuerer Zeit, vol. 3 (Leipzig: Chr. E. Kollmann, 1842), p. 245.","About three hundred years ago a pious man by the name of Melchior was the preacher at Veckholm. Every evening, whatever the season or weather, it was his custom to go to the church and pray at the altar. His wife could not stand this, so she said to her servant, 'Listen, Lorenz, at midnight go to my husband on his way home, and attempt to frighten him.' He did just that. He covered himself in a white sheet and appeared before the preacher. The preacher stepped up to him and said, 'Who are you?' but he received no answer. He asked the same question a second time, but now the servant began to sink into the earth, while begging forgiveness for his sacrilege. To this the preacher replied, 'I cannot save you. It is too late!' And then the servant sank completely beneath the earth.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,The Scoffer of Herzberg,Germany,Haase's source: 'Communicated by Teacher Fehse in Dierberg.',"Source (books.google.com): Karl Eduard Haase, 'Der Spötter von Herzberg,' Volkstümliches aus der Grafschaft Ruppin und Umgegend, vol. 1: Sagen (Neu-Ruppin: Verlag von Rud. Petrenz, 1887), no. 63, p. 65. Source (Internet Archive): Karl Eduard Haase, 'Der Spötter von Herzberg,' Volkstümliches aus der Grafschaft Ruppin und Umgegend, vol. 1: Sagen (Neu-Ruppin: Verlag von Rud. Petrenz, 1887), no. 63, p. 65.","One of them called out, 'You dead ones, stand up and come to your judgement!' The next day the scoffer became ill and died soon afterward.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1676,Two Spirits,Belgium,Wolf's source: 'Oral.',"Source (books.google.com): Johannes Wilhelm Wolf, 'Zwei Geister,' Deutsche Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1845), no. 136, pp. 241-42. Source (Internet Archive): Johannes Wilhelm Wolf, 'Zwei Geister,' Deutsche Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1845), no. 136, pp. 241-42.","A woman in Kortrijk was a free spirited person, but never sacrilegious, like so many people are. On the other hand, her husband was a wild type who mocked everything and everyone. One Saturday the woman was late in returning home, and her husband thought that he would play a trick on her and frighten her. To do so he wrapped himself in a white cloth and waited at the crucifix in the graveyard where his wife would have to pass by. After ten o'clock his wife came by, accompanied by a neighbor woman. The man stood up in his white cloth and remained there standing still. 'Just look,' said the neighbor. 'There's a spirit.' 'Let him be,' said the wife. 'We'll say the Lord's Prayer for him.' 'For God's sake,' said the neighbor after they had walked on a few steps. 'Now there's another one. Now I can see two of them!' The wife did not answer, but she prayed. The man heard what the neighbor woman had said, and a shudder went through his whole body. Nonetheless, he wanted to convince himself before he took flight. Turning his head a little he saw a skeleton wrapped in a shroud standing next to him. Then he lost all courage and took off running after the women as fast as he could. The frightened women ran ahead and locked themselves inside the house. 'Wife, open the door!' cried the husband. 'It's me!' But the wife did not open the door. Overcome by fear and dread, he fell down unconscious, and did not awaken until the next morning.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,Anecdote of a Charitable Woman,The 1001 Nights,Links to Richard Burton's translation of this tale: The Woman Whose Hands Were Cut Off for Giving Alms to the Poor (books.google.com). The Woman Whose Hands Were Cut Off for Giving Alms to the Poor (Internet Archive). The Woman Whose Hands Were Cut Off for Giving Alms to the Poor (books.google.com). The Woman Whose Hands Were Cut Off for Giving Alms to the Poor (Internet Archive).,"Source (books.google.com): The Thousand and One Nights: The Arabian Nights' Entertainments, edited by Stanley Lane-Poole, vol. 2 (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), pp. 375-76. Source (Internet Archive): The Thousand and One Nights: The Arabian Nights' Entertainments, edited by Stanley Lane-Poole, vol. 2 (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), pp. 375-76.","It is related that a certain king said to the people of his dominions, 'If any one of you give aught in alms, I will assuredly cut off his hand.' So all the people refrained from alms-giving, and none could bestow upon another. And it happened that a beggar came to a woman one day, and hunger tormented him, and he said to her, 'Give me somewhat as an alms.' 'How,' said she, 'can I bestow an alms upon thee when the king cutteth off the hand of every one who doth so?' But he rejoined, 'I conjure thee by God (whose name be exalted!) that thou give me an alms.' So when he conjured her by God, she was moved with pity for him, and bestowed upon him two cakes of bread. And the news reached the king; whereupon he gave orders to bring her before him; and when she came, he cut off her hands. And she returned to her house. Then the king, after a while, said to his mother, 'I desire to marry; therefore marry me to a comely woman.' And she replied, 'There is, among our female slaves, a woman than whom none more beautiful existeth; but she hath a grievous defect.' 'And what is it?' he asked. She answered, 'She is maimed of the two hands.' The king however said, 'I desire to see her.' Wherefore she brought her to him, and when he saw her, he was tempted by her beauty, and married her. And that woman was she who bestowed upon the beggar the two cakes of bread, and whose hands were cut off on that account. But when he had married her, her fellow-wives envied her, and wrote to the king, telling him that she was unchaste; and she had given birth to a son. And the king wrote a letter to his mother, in which he commanded her to go forth with her to the desert, and to leave her there, and return. His mother therefore did so; she took her forth to the desert, and returned. And that woman began to weep for the misfortune that had befallen her, and to bewail violently, with a wailing not to be exceeded. And while she was walking, with the child upon her neck, she came to a river, and kneeled down to drink, because of the violence of the thirst that had affected her from her walking and fatigue and grief; and when she stooped her head, the child fell into the water. So she sat weeping violently for her child; and while she wept, lo, there passed by her two men, who said to her, 'What causeth thee to weep?' She answered, 'I had a child upon my neck, and he fell into the water.' And they said, 'Dost thou desire that we rescue him, and restore him to thee?' She answered, 'Yes.' And upon this they supplicated God (whose name be exalted!), and the child came forth to her safe and unhurt. Then they said to her, 'Dost thou desire that God should restore to thee thy hands as they were?' And they supplicated God (whose perfection be extolled, and whose name be exalted!); whereupon her hands returned to her in the most perfect state. After this they said to her, 'Knowest thou who we are?' 'God,' she replied, 'is all-knowing.' And they said, 'We are thy two cakes of bread which thou gavest as an alms to the beggar, and which alms occasioned the cutting off of thy hands. Therefore praise God (whose name be exalted!) that he hath restored to thee thy hands and thy child. And she praised God (whose name be exalted!), and glorified him. Links to Richard Burton's translation of this tale:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,Beautiful Magdalene,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Heinrich Pröhle, 'Die schöne Magdalene,'Kinder- und Volksmärchen (Leipzig: Avenarius und Mendelssohn, 1853), no. 36, pp. 122-27. Source (Internet Archive): Heinrich Pröhle, 'Die schöne Magdalene,'Kinder- und Volksmärchen (Leipzig: Avenarius und Mendelssohn, 1853), no. 36, pp. 122-27.","The mother led the girl into a forest where the executioner was lying in wait. He chopped off her arms. While the executioner and the mother were burying the arms, Beautiful Magdalena ran away from them, swearing never again to be seen by her mother. In great pain she went deeper into the woods. Finally she came out of the forest and to a high mountain. She climbed upward until she spotted a castle with a garden. She approached the castle and attempted to get into the garden, finally succeeding to get over the fence. As she walked around inside the garden the prince, who was standing at a castle window, saw her beauty but noticed at the same time that she had no arms. He called to his mother, saying, 'Mother, look! There is a beautiful woman in the garden, but she has no arms.' The queen looked out the window and saw the beautiful girl without arms fluttering around in the garden like a magnificent butterfly. Seeing that her son was attracted to her, she said, 'Go and bring the girl into the castle.' The prince went to her in the garden. Seeing that the prince was approaching her, she attempted to run away. He caught up with her and took her into the castle. The prince's mother asked how she had lost her arms and where she had come from. Sobbing, she related everything that had happened to her. The prince fell in love with her and confessed to his mother that he wanted to marry her. The mother loved her son very much, and seeing how beautiful the girl was, she immediately agreed to the marriage. The wedding was held, and the mother had her son crowned as king. They lived happily together, but soon the young king had to go off to war. In the meantime Beautiful Magdalene gave birth to a little prince. The king's mother was delighted and wanted to share the good news with her son. She wrote a letter and gave it to a trusted servant to deliver to the king. Unfortunately, the servant came to the same inn that had been Beautiful Magdalene's home. The innkeeper was still unmarried, for the suitor had not returned after the daughter's disappearance. She questioned the servant and soon discovered from his talk about the queen without arms that her daughter had become queen. She put a sleeping potion in his drink, then replaced his letter with a false one stating that the king's wife had given birth to a poodle-dog, and that the old queen could not sleep at night because of the dog's whining. Nonetheless, the prince was pleased with the news of the birth and wrote back to the mother that she should take good care of his wife until he returned home. Furthermore, she should keep the young dog. Returning to the castle, the servant stopped once again at the old woman's inn. She was curious how the king had answered the letter and again put a sleeping potion into his wine. While he slept she opened the letter. Again she put a false one in its place, wherein it was stated that the king's mother should send his wife into exile immediately. If she were still there upon his return, he would have her burned at the stake, because in the meantime he had chosen a new wife whom he would be bringing home with him. This letter saddened the old queen greatly. The young queen was curious and demanded to know what the letter contained. The old queen told her what had been written, and from that hour onward Beautiful Magdalene wanted to leave the castle. The old queen wrapped the child in a cloak and tied the bundle onto the mother's back. Thus Beautiful Magdalene made her way into the wide world. Some time later she found herself in a dense forest where a valley stretched forth on the one side. Her child cried, but she could not nurse him because she could not hold him with her arm-stump. Suddenly she heard a terrible roar close by, and she saw that it was a lion that had a thorn stuck in its paw. With her mouth she untied the bundle that held her child to her back, then lay him on the ground next to her. Beautiful Magdalene kneeled down before the lion and tried to pull out the thorn with her mouth, but without success. Then she suddenly heard a voice. Looking around in the woods she saw no one, nor did she hear anything else. But soon thereafter she heard the voice once again, and she clearly understood the words: 'Beautiful Magdalene, go down into the valley. Kneel down in the water and immerse your shoulder blades. Do this, and you shall again have your arms.' Descending into the valley, Beautiful Magdalene heard the rustling water. She kneeled down in it and immersed her shoulder blades. When she pulled them up her beautiful arms were there once again. She rushed back to her child, whom the lion had been watching over like a guardian angel. First she picked up and nursed the baby, while the lion waited patiently. Then she lay the child back on the ground and pulled the thorn from the lion's paw. After this she put the child back on her back then followed the health-giving stream, thinking that it would lead to someone's dwelling. When night fell she arrived at a house and went inside, where she found two chairs and a table set with food. After she had refreshed herself somewhat, a little white dwarf appeared, but he was terribly afraid of the lion who was lying at Beautiful Magdalene's feet. She told the dwarf that he should not fear the lion, so he came nearer, then asked where she had come from. She told him everything that had happened, upon which the little white dwarf told her that she should remain there, and that he would care for her. Whenever she was hungry, she should say: She did this, and whenever she said the charm, the most delicious food and the most expensive wine appeared on the table. There was even some marzipan there. For some time she lived there in the house, and she was usually quite lonely, for the little white dwarf was mostly away. In the meantime her husband returned home from the war and deduced what had happened. Finding no peace, the king sponsored a great hunt. He lost his way and was separated from his servants and companions, but at nightfall he fortunately saw a light in the house where Beautiful Magdalene was staying. He knocked on the door, and Beautiful Magdalene immediately recognized his voice. However, the lion did not want to allow the king inside. She hit the lion; he became still, and the king stepped inside. He asked her where she had come from and why she was living in this little house. She told him everything that had happened. Then the king recognized his wife and was beside himself with joy that a miracle had restored her arms. He kissed her arms passionately, and he kissed her mouth. And thus they carried on for a long time. He stayed that night with his wife in the little white dwarf's house. The next morning he took her back to his castle. The lion came along as well, quite majestically. He conferred with his mother as to how the old innkeeper should be punished. She advised that the guilty one should be placed in a barrel studded with nails and then rolled down a mountain. And thus the old woman was rolled down a mountain in a barrel. The ravens that saw it called out: 'Caw! Caw!' With that they were saying: 'Justice has been served!' The king sent his people to find the world's most precious armbands. A page returned with the most precious ones, and the king himself put them onto Beautiful Magdalene's arms. However, the very best thing was that now the queen could properly put her arms around her husband.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,Biancabella,"Giovanni Francesco Straparola, The Facetious Nights",Giovanni Francesco Straparola lived in Italy between about 1485 and 1558. His collection of tales Le Piacevoli Notti (The Facetious Nights) was published in two volumes in Venice between 1550 and 1553. Link to the Wikipedia article about The Facetious Nights of Straparola.,"Source (books.google.com): The Italian Novelists, translated into English by W. G. Waters, vol. 1, The Facetious Nights of Straparola (London: Privately printed for member of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), night 3, fable 3, pp. 302-337. Source (Internet Archive): The Italian Novelists, translated into English by W. G. Waters, vol. 1, The Facetious Nights of Straparola (London: Privately printed for member of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), night 3, fable 3, pp. 302-337.","Biancabella, the daughter of Lamberico, Marquis of Monferrato, is sent away by the stepmother of Ferrandino, King of Naples, in order that she may be put to death; but the assassins only cut off her hands and put out her eyes. Afterward she, her hurts having been healed by a snake, returns happily to Ferrandino. It is praiseworthy, or even absolutely necessary, that a woman, of whatever state or condition she may be, should bear herself with prudence in each and every undertaking she may essay, for without prudence nothing will bring itself to a commendable issue. And if a certain stepmother, of whom I am about to tell you, had used it with due moderation when she plotted wickedly to take another's life, she would not herself have been cut off by divine judgment in such fashion as I will now relate to you. Once upon a time, now many years ago, there reigned in Monferrato a marquis called Lamberico, very puissant, both on account of his lordships and his great wealth, but wanting in children to carry on his name. He was, forsooth, mighty anxious for progeny, but this bounty of heaven was denied to him. Now one day it chanced that the marchioness his wife was walking for her pleasure in the palace garden, and, being suddenly overcome by sleep, she sat down at the foot of a tree and slumber fell upon her. While she slept gently there crept up to her side a very small snake, which, having passed stealthily under her clothes without arousing her by its presence, made its way into her body, and by subtle windings penetrated even into her womb, and there lay quiet. Before long time had elapsed the marchioness, with no small pleasure to herself, and with the highest delight of all the state, proved to be with child, and, when the season of her lying-in came, she was delivered of a female child, round the neck of which there was coiled three times something in the similitude of a serpent. When the midwives, who were in attendance upon the marchioness, saw this, they were much affrighted; but the snake, without causing any hurt whatsoever, untwined itself from the infant's neck, and, winding itself along the floor and stretching itself out, made its way into the garden. Now when the child had been duly cared for and clothed, the nurses having washed it clean in a bath of clear water and swathed it in snow-white linen, they began to see, little by little, that round about its neck was a collar of gold, fashioned with the most subtle handiwork. So fine was it, and so lovely, that it seemed to shed its lustre from between the skin and the flesh, just as the most precious jewels are wont to shine out from a closure of transparent crystal, and, moreover, it encircled the neck of the infant just as many times as the little serpent had cast its fold thereabout. The little girl, to whom, on account of her exceeding loveliness, the name of Biancabella was given, grew up in such goodliness and beauty that it seemed as if she must be sprung from divine and not from human stock. When she had come to the age of ten years it chanced that one day she went with her nurse upon a terrace, from whence she observed a fair garden full of roses and all manner of other lovely flowers. Then, turning towards the nurse who had her in charge, she demanded of her what garden that was which she had never seen before. To this the nurse replied that it was a place which her mother called her own garden, and one, moreover, in which she was wont often to take her recreation. Then said the child to her: 'I have never seen anything so fair before, and I had fain go into it and walk there.' Then the nurse, taking Biancabella by the hand, led her into the garden, and, having suffered the child to go a little distance apart from her, she sat down under the shade of a leafy beech tree and settled herself to sleep, letting the little girl take her pleasure the while in roaming about the garden. Biancabeila, who was altogether charmed with the loveliness of the place, ran about, now here and now there, gathering flowers, and, at last, when she felt somewhat tired, she sat down under the shadow of a tree. Now scarcely had the child seated herself upon the ground when there appeared a little snake, which crept up close to her side. Biancabeila, as soon as she saw the beast, was mightily alarmed, and was about to cry out, when the snake thus addressed her: 'Cry not, I beg you, neither disturb yourself, nor have any fear, for know that I am your sister, born on the same day as yourself and at the same birth, and that Samaritana is my name. And I now tell you that, if you will be obedient to what I shall command you, I will make you happy in your life; but if, on the other hand, you disobey me, you will come to be the most luckless, the most wretched woman the world has ever yet seen. Wherefore, go your way now, without fear of any sort, and tomorrow cause to be brought into this garden two vessels, of which let one be filled with pure milk, and the other with the finest water of roses. Then you must come to me by yourself without companions.' When the serpent was gone the little girl rose up from her seat and went back to seek her nurse, whom she found still sleeping, and, having aroused her, she returned with her to the palace without saying aught of what had befallen her. And when the morrow had come Biancabella chanced to be with her mother alone in the chamber, and the mother remarked that the child bore upon her face a melancholy look. Whereupon she said: 'Biancabella, what ails you that you put on so discontented a face? You are wont to be lively and merry enough, but now you seem all sad and woebegone.' To this Biancabella replied: 'There is nothing amiss with me; it is only that I want to have taken into the garden two vessels, of which one shall be filled with pure milk and the other of the finest water of roses.' The mother answered: 'And why do you let yourself be troubled by so small a matter as this, my child? Do you not know that everything here belongs to you?' Then the marchioness caused to be brought to her two vessels, large and beautiful, filled, the one with milk and the other with rose water, and had them carried into the garden. When the hour appointed by the serpent had come, Biancabella, without taking any other damsel to bear her company, repaired to the garden, and, having opened the door thereof, she went in and made fast the entrance, and then seated herself upon the ground at the spot where the two vessels had been placed. Almost as soon as she had sat down the serpent appeared and came near her, and straightway commanded her to strip off all her clothes, and then, naked as she was, to step into the vessel which was filled with milk. When she had done this, the serpent twined itself about her, thus bathing her body in every part with the white milk and licking her all over with his tongue, rendering her pure and perfect in every part where, peradventure, aught that was faulty might have been found. Next, having bid her come out of the vessel of milk, the serpent made her enter the one which was filled with rose water, whereupon all her limbs were scented with odours so sweet and restorative that she felt as if she were filled with fresh life. Then the serpent bade her put on her clothes once more, giving her at the same time express command that she should hold her peace as to what had befallen her, and to speak no word thereanent even to her father and mother. For the serpent willed that no other woman in all the world should be found to equal Biancabella in beauty or in grace. And finally, after she had bestowed upon her very good quality, the serpent crept away to its hiding-place. When this was done Biancabella left the garden and returned to the palace. Her mother, when she perceived how her daughter had become more lovely and gracious than ever, and fairer than any other damsel in the world, was astonished beyond measure and knew not what to say. Wherefore she questioned the young girl as to what she had done to indue herself with such surpassing loveliness; but Biancabella had no answer to give her. Hereupon the marchioness took a comb and began to comb and dress her daughter's fair locks, and forthwith from the girl's hair there fell down pearls and all manner of precious stones, and when Biancabella went to wash her hands roses and violets and lovely flowers of all sorts sprang up around them, and the odours which arose from these were so sweet that it seemed as if the place had indeed become an earthly paradise. Her mother, when she saw this marvel, ran to find Lamberico her husband, and, full of maternal pride, thus addressed him: 'My lord, heaven has bestowed upon us a daughter who is the sweetest, the loveliest, and the most exquisite work nature ever produced. For besides the divine beauty and grace in her, which is manifest to all eyes, pearls and gems and all other kinds of precious stones fall from her hair, and -- to name something yet more marvellous -- round about her white hands spring up roses and violets and all manner of flowers which give out the sweetest odours to all those who may come near her to wonder at the sight. All this I tell to you I assuredly would never have believed had I not looked thereon with my own eyes.' Her husband, who was of an unbelieving nature, was at first disinclined to put faith in his wife's words, and treated her speech as a subject for laughter and ridicule, but she went on plying him without ceasing with accounts of what she had witnessed, so that he determined to see for himself how the matter really stood. Then, having made them bring his daughter into his presence, he found about her even more marvellous things than his wife had described, and on account of what he saw he rejoiced exceedingly, and in his pride swore a great oath that there was in the whole world no man worthy to be united to her in wedlock. Very soon the fame and glory of the supreme and immortal beauty of Biancabella began to spread itself through the whole world, and many kings and princes and nobles came together from all parts in order to win her love and favour and have her to wife, but not one of all these suitors was counted worthy to enjoy her, inasmuch as each one of them proved to be lacking in respect of one thing or another. But at last one day there came a-wooing Ferrandino, King of Naples, who by his prowess and by his illustrious name blazed out resplendent like the sun in the midst of the smaller luminaries, and, having presented himself to the marquis, demanded of him the hand of his daughter in marriage. The marquis, seeing that the suitor was seemly of countenance, and well knit in person, and full of grace, besides being a prince of great power and possessions and wealth, gave his consent to the nuptials at once, and, having summoned his daughter, without further parleying the two were betrothed by joining of hands and by kissing one another. Scarcely were the rites of betrothal completed, when Biancabella called back to mind the words which her sister Samaritana had so lovingly spoken to her, wherefore she withdrew herself from the presence of her spouse under the pretext that she had certain business of her own to see to, and, having gone to her own chamber, made fast the door thereof from within, and then passed by a secret thoroughfare into the garden. When she had come into the garden, she began to call upon Samaritana in a low voice. But the serpent no more manifested herself as heretofore, and Biancabella, when she perceived this, was mightily astonished, and, after she had searched through every part of the garden without finding a trace of Samaritana, a deep grief fell upon her, for she knew that this thing had happened to her because she had not given due attention and obedience to the commands which her sister had laid upon her. Wherefore, grieving and bewailing heavily on account of the mischance that had befallen her, she returned into her chamber, and having opened the door, she went to rejoin her spouse, who had been waiting a long time for her, and sat down beside him. When the marriage ceremonies were completed, Ferrandino led his bride away with him to Naples, where, with sumptuous state and magnificent festivities and the sound of trumpets, they were welcomed by the whole city with the highest honour. It happened that there was living at Naples Ferrandino's stepmother, who had two daughters of her own, both of them deformed and ugly; but, notwithstanding this, she had set her heart on marrying one of them to the king. But now, when all hope was taken from her of ever accomplishing this design of hers, her rage and anger against Biancabella became so savage that she could scarcely endure to look upon her. But she was careful to conceal her animosity, feigning the while to hold Biancabella in all love and affection. Now by a certain freak of fortune the King of Tunis at this time began to set in array a mighty force of armed men for service by land and likewise on sea, in order that he might incite Ferrandino to make war (whether he did this because Ferrandino had won Biancabella to wife, or for some other reason I know not), and at the head of a very powerful army he had already passed the bounds of the kingdom of Naples. On this account it was necessary that Ferrandino should straightway take up arms for the defence of his realm, and hurry to the field to confront his foe. Therefore, having settled his affairs, and made provision of all things necessary for Biancabella (she being now with child), he gave her over to the care of his stepmother and set forth with his army. Ferrandino had not long departed when this malevolent and froward-minded woman made a wicked design on Biancabella's life, and, having summoned into her presence certain retainers who were entirely devoted to her, she charged them to conduct Biancabella with them to some place or other -- feigning that what they were doing was done for her recreation -- and that they should not leave her until they had taken her life. Moreover, in order that she might be fully assured that they had discharged their duty, they were to bring back to her some sign of Biancabella's death. These ruffians, prompt for any sort of ill-doing, at once prepared to carry out the commands of their mistress, and making pretence of conducting Biancabella to some place where she might recreate herself, they carried her away into a wood, and forthwith began to make preparation to kill her. But when they perceived how lovely she was, and gracious, they were moved to pity and had not the heart to take her life. So they cut off both her hands and tore her eyes out of her head, and these they carried back to the stepmother as certain proofs that Biancabella had been killed by them. When this impious and cruel woman saw what they brought in their hands, her joy and satisfaction were unbounded, and, scheming still in her wicked heart to carry out her nefarious designs, she spread through all the kingdom a report that both her own daughters were dead, the one of a continued fever, and the other of an imposthume of the heart, which had caused her death by suffocation. Moreover, she went on to declare that Biancabella, disordered by grief at the king's departure, had miscarried of a child, and had likewise been seized with a tertian fever which had wasted her so completely that there was more cause to fear her death than to hope for her recovery. But the scheme of this wicked cunning woman was to keep one of her own daughters in the king's bed, maintaining the while that she was Biancabella, shrunken and distempered by the fever. Ferrandino, after he had attacked and put to rout the army of his foe, marched homeward in all the triumph of victory, hoping to find his beloved Biancabella full of joy and happiness, but in lieu of this he found her (as he believed) lying in bed shrivelled, pale, and disfigured. Then he went up to the bed and gazed closely at her face, and was overcome with astonishment when he looked upon the wreck she had become, and could hardly persuade himself that the woman he saw there could really be Biancabella. Afterwards he bade her attendants comb her hair, and, in place of the gems and the precious jewels which were wont to fall from the fair locks of his wife, there came forth great worms which had been feeding on the wretched woman's flesh, and from the hands there came forth, not the roses and the sweet-smelling flowers which ever sprang up around Biancabella's, but a foulness and filth which caused a nauseous sickness to all who came near her. But the wicked old stepmother kept on speaking words of consolation to him, declaring that all this distemper sprang from nothing else than the lengthened course of the ailment which possessed her. In the meantime the ill-fated Biancabella, bereft of her hands and blind in both her eyes, was left alone in that solitary place, and, finding herself in such cruel affliction, she called over and over again upon her sister Samaritana, beseeching her to come to her rescue; but no answer came to her except from the resounding voice of Echo, who cried aloud through all the place. And while the unhappy Biancabella was left in the agony of despair, conscious that she was cut off from all human aid, there came into the wood a venerable old man, kindly of aspect and no less kindly in his heart. And he, when he listened to the sad and mournful voice which smote upon his hearing, made his way step by step towards the place whence it came, and stopped when he found there a blind lady with her hands cut off who was bitterly mourning the sad fate which had overtaken her. When the good old man looked upon her, and saw how sad was her condition, he could not bear to leave her thus in this wilderness of broken trees and thorns and brambles, but, overcome by the fatherly pity within him, he led her home with him to his house, and gave her into the charge of his wife, commanding her very strictly to take good care of the sufferer. Then he turned towards his three daughters, who verily were as beautiful as three of the brightest stars of heaven, and exhorted them earnestly to keep her company, and to render to her continually any loving service she might require, and to take care that she wanted for nothing. But the wife, who had a hard heart, and none of the old man's pity, was violently moved to anger by these words of her husband, and, turning towards him, cried out: 'Husband, what is this you would have us do with this woman, all blind and maimed as she is? Doubtless she has been thus treated as a punishment for her sins, and for no good behaviour.' In reply to this speech the old man spake in an angry tone: 'You will carry out all the commands I give you. If you should do aught else, you need not look to see me here again.' It happened that while the unhappy Biancabella was left in charge of the wife and the three daughters, conversing with them of various things, and meditating over her own great misfortunes, she besought one of the maidens to do her a favour and comb her hair a little. But when the mother heard this she was much angered, forasmuch as she would not allow either of her children to minister in any way to the unfortunate sufferer. But the daughter's heart was more given to pity than was her mother's, and moreover she called to mind what her father's commands had been, and was conscious of some subtle air of dignity and high breeding which seemed to emanate from Biancabella as a token of her lofty estate. So she straightway unfastened the apron from her waist, and, having spread it on the floor beside Biancabella, began to comb her hair softly and carefully. Scarcely had she passed the comb thrice through the blond tresses before there fell out of them pearls and rubies and diamonds and all sorts of precious stones. Now the mother, when she saw what had happened, was seized with dread, and stood as one struck with amazement; moreover, the great dislike which at first she had harboured towards Biancabella, now gave way to a feeling of kindly affection. And when the old man had come back to the house they all ran to embrace him, rejoicing with him greatly over the stroke of good fortune which had come to deliver them from the bitter poverty which had hitherto oppressed them. Then Biancahella asked them to bring her a bucket of clear water, and bade them wash therewith her face and her maimed arms, and from these, while all were standing by, roses and violets and other flowers in great plenty fell down; whereupon they all deemed she must be some divine personage, and no mortal woman. Now after a season it came to pass that Biancabella felt a desire to return to the spot where first the old man had found her. But he and his wife and his daughters, seeing how great were the benefits they gathered from her presence, loaded her with endearments, and besought her very earnestly that she would on no account depart from them, bringing forward many reasons why she should not carry out her wish. But she, having resolutely made up her mind on this point, determined at all hazards to go away, promising at the same time to return to them hereafter. The old man, when he saw how firmly she was set on her departure, took her with him without any further delay back to the place where he had come upon her. And when they had reached this spot she gave directions to the old man that he should depart and leave her, bidding him also to come back there when evening should have fallen, in order that she might return with him to his house. As soon as the old man had gone his way the ill-fated Biancabella began to wander up and down the gloomy wood, calling loudly upon Samaritana, so that her cries and lamentations rose up even to the high heavens. But Samaritana, though she was all the while nigh to her sister, and had never for one moment abandoned her, refused as yet to answer to her call. Whereupon the wretched Biancabella, deeming that she was scattering her words upon the heedless winds, cried out, 'Alas! what further concern have I in this world, seeing that I have been bereft of my eyes and of my hands, and now at last all human help is denied to me.' And as she thus spoke there came upon her a sort of frenzy, which took away from her all hope of deliverance from her present evil case, and urged her, in despair, to lay hands upon her own life. But because there was at hand no means by which she could put an end to her miserable being, she found her way to a pool of water, which lay not far distant, in the mind there to drown herself. But when she had come to the shore of the pool, and stood thereon ready to cast herself down into the water, there sounded in her ears a voice like thunder, saying: 'Alas, alas, wretched one! Keep back from self-murder, nor desire to take your own life, which you ought to preserve for some better end.' Whereupon Biancaliella, alarmed by this mighty voice, felt as it were every one of her hairs standing erect on her head, but after a moment it seemed to her that she knew the voice; so, having plucked up a little courage, she said: 'Who are you who wander about these woods, proclaiming your presence to me by your kindly and pitiful words?' Then the same voice replied: 'I am Samaritana, your sister, for whom you have been calling so long and painfully.' And Biancabella, when she listened to these words, answered in a voice all broken by agonized sobs, and said: 'Alas, my sister! Come to my aid, I beseech you; and if at any past time I have shown myself disregardful of your counsel, I pray you to pardon me. Indeed I have erred, and I confess my fault, but my misdeed was the fruit of my ignorance, and not of my wickedness; for be sure, if it had come from wickedness, divine justice would not have suffered me, as the author of it, so long to cumber the earth.' Samaritana, when she heard her sister's woes set forth in this pitiful story, and witnessed the cruel wrongs that had been done her, spake some comforting words, and then, having gathered divers medicinal herbs of wonderful power and virtue, she spread these over the places where Biancabella's eyes had been. Then she brought to her sister two hands, and having joined these on to the wounded wrists, at once made them whole and sound again. And when she had wrought this marvellous feat Samaritana threw off from herself the scaly skin of the serpent, and stood revealed as a maiden of lovely aspect. The sun had already begun to veil its glittering rays, and the evening shadows were creeping around, when the old man with anxious hasty steps returned to the wood, where he found Biancabella sitting beside a maiden well-nigh as lovely as herself. And he gazed steadily into her beauteous face, standing the while like to a man struck with wonder, and could scarcely believe it was Biancabella he looked upon. But when he was sure it was really she, he cried: 'My daughter, were you not this morning blind and bereft of your hands? How comes it that you have been thus speedily made whole again?' Biancabella answered him: 'My cure has been worked, not by anything I myself have done, but by the virtue and the kind ministering of this my dear sister who sits here beside me.' Whereupon both the sisters arose from the place where they were seated, and rejoicing greatly they went together with the old man to his house, where the wife and the three daughters gave them a most loving and hospitable welcome. It came to pass after the lapse of many days that Samaritana and Biancahella, and the old man with his wife and his three daughters, left their cottage and betook themselves to the city of Naples, purposing to dwell there, and, when they had entered the city, they chanced to come upon a vacant space hard by the palace of the king, where they determined to make their resting-place. And when the dark night had fallen around them. Samaritana took in her hand a twig of laurel and thrice struck the earth therewith, uttering certain mystic words the while, and almost before the sound of these words had ceased there sprang up forthwith before them a palace, the most beautiful and sumptuous that ever was seen. The next morning Ferrandino the king went early to look out of the window, and when he beheld the rich and marvellous palace standing where there had been nothing the night before, he was altogether overcome with amazement, and called his wife and his stepmother to come and see it; but these were greatly disturbed in mind at the sight thereof, for a boding came upon them that some ill was about to befall them. While Ferrandino was standing, scanning closely the palace before him, and examining it in all parts, he lifted his eyes to a certain window, and there, in the chamber inside, he beheld two ladies of a beauty more rich and dazzling than the sun. And no sooner had his eyes fallen upon them than he felt a tempest of passion rising in his heart, for he assuredly recognized in one of them some similitude of that loveliness which had once been Biancabella's. And when he asked who they were, and from what land they had come, the answer which was given him was that they were two ladies who had been exiled from their home, and that they had journeyed from Persia, with all their possessions, to take up their abode in the noble city of Naples. When he heard this, Ferrandino sent a messenger to inquire whether he would be doing them any pleasure in waiting upon them, accompanied by the ladies of his court, to pay them a visit of welcome, and to this gracious message they sent an answer, saying that it would indeed be a very precious honour to be thus visited by him, but that it would be more decorous and respectful if they, as subjects, should pay this duty to him, than that he, as lord and king, should visit them. Hereupon Ferrandino bade them summon the queen and the other ladies of the court, and with these (although at first they refused to go, being so greatly in fear of their impending ruin) he betook himself to the palace of the two ladies, who, with all friendly signs of welcome and with modest bearing, gave him the reception due to a highly honoured guest, showing him the wide loggias, and the roomy halls, and the richly ornamented chambers, the walls of which were lined with alabaster and fine porphyry, while about them were to be seen on all sides carven figures which looked like life. And when they had exhibited to the king all parts of the sumptuous palace, the two fair young women approached Ferrandino and besought him most gracefully that he would deign to come one day with his queen and dine at their table. The king, whose heart was not hard enough to remain unaffected by all he had seen, and who was gifted moreover with a magnanimous and liberal spirit, graciously accepted the invitation. And when he had tendered his thanks to the two ladies for the noble welcome they had given him, he and the queen departed together and returned to their own palace. When the day fixed for the banquet had come, the king and the queen and the stepmother, clad in their royal robes and accompanied, by some of the ladies of the court, went to do honour to the magnificent feast set out in the most sumptuous fashion. And after he had given them water to wash their hands, the seneschal bade them conduct the king and queen to a table apart, set somewhat higher, but at the same time near to the others, and having done this, he caused all the rest of the guests to seat themselves according to their rank, and in this fashion they all feasted merrily and joyfully together. When the stately feast had come to an end and the tables had been cleared, Samaritana rose from her seat, and turning towards the king and the queen, spake thus: 'Your majesties, in order that the time may not be irksome to us, as it may if we sit here idle, let one or other of us propose something in the way of diversion which will let us pass the day pleasantly.' And when the guests heard what Samaritana said, they all agreed that she had spoken well, but yet there was found no one bold enough to make such a proposition as she had called for. Whereupon Samaritana, when she perceived they were all silent, went on: 'Since it appears that no one of this company is prepared to put forward anything, I, with your majesty's leave, will bid come hither one of our own maidens, whose singing perchance will give you no little pleasure.' And having summoned the damsel, whose name was Silveria, into the banqueting-room, Samaritana commanded her to take a lyre in her hand and to sing thereto something in honour of the king which should be worthy of their praise. And the damsel, obedient to her lady's command, took her lyre, and, having placed herself before the king, sang in a soft and pleasant voice while she touched the resounding strings with the plectrum, telling in her chant the story of Biancabella from beginning to end, but not mentioning her by name. When the whole of the story had been set forth, Samaritana again rose to her feet, and demanded of the king what would be the fitting punishment, what torture would be cruel enough for those who had put their hands to such an execrable crime. Then the stepmother, who deemed that she might perchance get a release for her misdeeds by a prompt and ready reply, did not wait for the king to give his answer, but cried out in a bold and confident tone, 'Surely to be cast into a furnace heated red hot would be but a light punishment for the offences of such a one.' Then Samaritana, with her countenance all afire with vengeance and anger, made answer to her: 'Thou thyself art the very same guilty and barbarous woman, through whose nefarious working all these cruel wrongs have been done; and thou, wicked and accursed one, hast condemned thyself to a righteous penalty out of thine own mouth.' Then Samaritana, turning towards the king with a look of joy upon her face, said to him, 'Behold! this is your Biancabella, this is the wife you loved so dearly, this is she without whom you could not live.' Then, to prove the truth of her words, Samaritana gave the word to the three daughters of the old man that they should forthwith, in the presence of the king, begin to comb Biancabella's fair and wavy hair, and scarcely had they begun when (as has been told before) there fell out of her tresses many very precious and exquisite jewels, and from her hands came forth roses exhaling the sweet scents of morning, and all manner of odoriferous flowers. And for yet greater certainty she pointed out to the king how the snow-white neck of Biancabeila was encircled by a fine chain of the most delicately wrought gold, which grew naturally between the skin and the flesh, and shone out as through the clearest crystal. When the king perceived by these manifest and convincing signs that she was indeed his own Biancabella, he began to weep for the joy he felt, and to embrace her tenderly. But before he left that place he caused to be heated hot a furnace, and into this he bade them cast the stepmother and her two daughters. Thus their repentance for their crimes came too late, and they made a miserable end to their lives. And after this the three daughters of the old man were given honourably in marriage, and the King Ferrandino with Biancabelia and Samaritana lived long and happily, and when Ferrandino died his son succeeded to his kingdom.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,Blessing or Property,Swahili,"Another version of this story: Andrew Lang, 'The One-Handed Girl,' The Lilac Fairy Book (New York, London, Bombay, and Calcutta; 1910), pp. 185-208 (books.google.com). Andrew Lang, 'The One-Handed Girl,' The Lilac Fairy Book (New York, London, Bombay, and Calcutta; 1910), pp. 185-208 (Internet Archive). Andrew Lang, 'The One-Handed Girl,' The Lilac Fairy Book (New York, London, Bombay, and Calcutta; 1910), pp. 185-208 (books.google.com). Andrew Lang, 'The One-Handed Girl,' The Lilac Fairy Book (New York, London, Bombay, and Calcutta; 1910), pp. 185-208 (Internet Archive).","Source (books.google.com): Edward Steere, Swahili Tales: As Told by Natives of Zanzibar, with an English translation (London: Bell and Daldy, 1870), pp. 393-409. Source (Internet Archive): Edward Steere, Swahili Tales: As Told by Natives of Zanzibar, with an English translation (London: Bell and Daldy, 1870), pp. 393-409.","There was a man and his wife, and they prayed to God to get a child; and they got first a son and next a daughter. And their father's employment was to cut up firewood. And they remained till the children were grown up. And their father was seized by disease. And he called his children, and asked them, 'Will you have blessing or property?' And the son said, 'I will have property.' And the daughter said, 'I will have blessing.' And her father gave her much blessing. And her father died. And they kept the mourning, and when they arose their mother fell sick; and she called her children and said to them, 'Will you have blessing or property?' And her mother gave her blessing. And their mother died. And they kept their mourning, and when they arose the seventh day was come. And the son went and told the woman, his sister, 'Put out all my father's and mother's things.' And the woman put them out, without his leaving her anything. And he took them all away. And people said to him, 'Will you not leave even any little thing for this your sister?' And he said, 'I shall not. I asked for the property, and she for a blessing.' And he left her a cooking pot, and a mortar for cleaning corn; he did not leave her even a little food. Her neighbours used to come and borrow the mortar, and clean their corn, and then they gave her a little grain, and she cooked and ate it. And others used to come and borrow her cooking pots, and cook with them, and then they gave her too a little food. And this was every day her employment. And she searched about in her father and mother's house, without finding anything except a pumpkin seed. And she took it and went and planted it under the well. And a plant sprung up, and bore many pumpkins. Her brother had no news of her, and he asked people, 'Where does my sister get food?' And they told him, 'People borrow her mortar, and they clean their corn, and give her too a little food; and people borrow her cooking pots, and cook with them, and give her too a little food.' And her brother arose and went and robbed her of the mortar and cooking pots. And then she awoke in the morning and sought for food, and could not get it. And she stayed till nine o'clock, and said, 'I will go and look at my pumpkin, whether it has grown.' And she went, and saw that many pumpkins had come. And she was comforted. And she gathered the pumpkins, and went and sold them, and got food. And this was her employment every day, to gather and go and sell. And when the third day came, everyone who ate those pumpkins found them exceedingly sweet. And everybody used to take grain and go to her place and buy. And many days passed, and she got property. Her brother's wife heard that news, and sent her slave with grain to go and buy a pumpkin. And she said, 'They are finished.' And when she knew it was her brother's wife's slave, she told him, 'Take this one, and take back your grain.' And she went and cooked it, and found it very sweet. The next day she sent some one again. And she said, 'There are none at all today.' And he went and told his mistress, and she was exceedingly vexed. When her husband came and asked her, 'What is the matter with you, my wife?' She told him, 'I sent some one to your sister with my grain, to go and ask for pumpkins. She did not send them, and told me, 'There are none'; and other people all buy of her.' And he said to his wife, 'Let us sleep till tomorrow. I will go and pull up her pumpkin plant.' When the morning dawned, he went to his sister and said to her, 'When my wife sent grain, you refused to sell her a pumpkin.' And she said, 'They are finished; the day before yesterday she sent someone, and I gave to him for nothing.' And he said, 'Why are you selling to other people?' And she said, 'They are finished, there are no more, they are not yet come.' And her brother said to her, 'I shall go and cut up your pumpkin.' And she said, 'You dare not, unless indeed you cut my hand off first; then you may cut up the pumpkin.' And her brother took hold of her right hand and cut it off, and went and cut up her pumpkin plant, every bit of it. The woman set on hot water, and put in her arm, and put medicine also, and bound on a cloth. And he took away from her everything, and put her out of the house. And his sister wandered about in the forest, and this her brother sold the house, and gathered much property, and remained spending it. And she wandered in the forest, till on the seventh day she came out upon another town. And she climbed up into a great tree, and ate the fruit of the tree, and in the morning she slept there in the tree. On the next day the son of the king came out shooting birds, he and his people. About twelve o'clock he was tired, and said, 'I will go there by the tree, that I may rest, and you shoot birds.' And he sat under the tree, he and his slave. And the young woman cried till her tears fell upon the king's son below. And he said to his slave, 'Look outside; is it not raining?' And he said, 'It is not, master.' And he said, 'Then climb up into the tree, and look what bird is casting its droppings upon me.' And his slave climbed up, and he saw an exceedingly beautiful woman crying, and without saying a word, he got down. And he told his master, 'There is a most beautiful young woman. I did not venture to say a word to her.' And his master asked him, 'Why?' And he said, 'I found her crying; perhaps you should go yourself.' And his master climbed up, and went and saw her, and said to her, 'What is the matter with you, my mistress? Are you a person or a spirit?' And she said, 'I am a person.' And he said, 'What are you crying about?' And she said, 'I am thinking of things; I am a person as you are.' And he said, 'Come down and let us go to our home.' And she said to him, 'Where is your home?' And he said, 'With my father and mother; I am a king's son.' And she said, 'What did you come to do here?' And he said, 'I come to shoot birds, month by month; this is our employment. I came with my companions.' And she said, 'I do not like to be seen by anybody.' And that woman had told the king's son. And he said, 'We shall not be seen by any one.' And she came down. And he sent his slave, 'Go into the town quickly, and bring me a masheela. And his slave went at once and returned with a masheela and four people, and they carried him. And he put the woman into it, and told his slave, 'Fire a gun, that all the company may know.' And he fired a gun, and his companions came, and they said to him, 'What is the matter with you, son of the king?' And he said, 'I am cold, and I want to go my way into the town.' And they carried the game they had got, and went away. And the king's son had got into the masheela, he and that young woman. And his companions knew nothing of it. And they went to their city, and reached his house. And he said to a man, 'Go and tell my mother and father, I have fever today, I want gruel quickly; let them send it to me.' And his mother and father were troubled, and gruel was cooked for him, and sent to him. And his father went with his vizirs and went to see him. And at night his mother went with her people to see him. The next day he went out, and went and told his mother and father, 'I have picked up a young woman, I want you to marry me to her, but she has lost one hand?' And they said, 'Why?' And he said, 'I wish it just as it is.' And the Sultan loved his only son much, and he made a wedding and married him. And the people heard in the town, 'The Sultan's son has married a young woman, she has lost one hand.' And they remained until his wife became pregnant, and bore a son, and his parents rejoiced exceedingly. And the Sultan's son went on a journey, and went to travel about in the towns of his father. There behind her brother came out; he had nothing to spend, and was going begging. Till one day he heard people conversing, 'The Sultan's son has married a woman who has lost one hand.' And her brother asked, 'Where did he get the girl, this child of the Sultan?' And they told him, 'He picked her up in the forest.' And he knew she was his sister. And he went to the king. And he went and said, 'Your child has married a woman who has lost a hand. She was put out of their town because she was a witch; every husband who marries her, she kills.' And the king went and told his wife, and they said, 'What plan can we act on?' And they loved much their only child, and they said, 'Let us put her out of the town.' And her brother said to them, 'Kill her, for there at home she had her hand cut off, and here kill her.' And they said, 'We cannot kill her, we will put her out of the town.' And they went and put her out of the town, her and her son. And she was comforted. And she went out, and carried a little earthen pot, and went her way into the forest; she knew not where she was going or whence she came. And she sat down, and showed her child, and casting her eyes, she saw a snake come fast towards her, and she said, 'Today I am dead.' And the snake said to her, 'Child of Adam, open your earthern pot that I may go in. Save me from sun, and I will save you from rain.' And she opened the pot, and it went in, and she covered it. And she looked and saw another snake coming fast, and it said to her, 'Has not my companion passed?' And she said, 'It is going.' And it passed quickly. The snake which was in the pot said to her, 'Uncover me.' And she uncovered it, and it was comforted, and said to that child of Adam, 'Where are you going?' And she said, 'I know not where I am going, I am wandering in the wood.' And the snake said to her, 'Follow me, and let us go home.' And they went together till on the road they saw a great lake. And the snake said to her, 'Child of Adam, let us sit and rest, the sun is fierce; go and bathe in the lake with your child.' And she carried her boy, and went to wash him, and he fell in and she lost him in the lake. And it asked her, 'What is the matter with you there, child of Adam?' And she said, ' My child is lost in the water.' And it said, ' Look for him well.' And she sought for him for a whole hour without finding him. And it said, 'Put in the other hand.' And she said, 'You snake are making game of me.' And it asked 'How?' And she said, 'I have put in this sound one, and I have not found him; what is the use of this spoilt one?' And the snake said to her, 'Only you put in both.' And the child of Adam put them in, and went and found her son and laid hold of him, and drew out her hand sound again. And it said, 'Have you found him?' And she said, 'I have found him, and have got my hand sound again.' And she rejoiced much. And the snake said, 'Now let us go away to my elders, and let me repay your kindness.' And she said, ' This is enough, getting my hand.' And it said, 'Not yet; let us go to my elders.' And they went till they arrived, and they rejoiced much, and loved that young woman. And she remained, eating and drinking many days. And her husband returned from his journey. And his elders had caused two tombs to be made, one of his wife and one of his child. And her brother had become a great man with the king. And her husband, the king's son, came. And he asked, 'Where is my wife?' And they said to him, 'She is dead.' 'And where is my child?' And they answered him, 'He is dead.' And he asked, 'Where are their graves?' And they took him to go and see them. And when he saw them he wept much. And he made a mourning. And he was comforted. Many days had passed. And the young woman in the forest said to her friend the snake, 'I want to go away, home.' And it said, 'Take leave of my mother and father. When they give you leave to go, if they give you a present, accept only the father's ring and the mother's casket.' And she went and took leave of them, and they gave her much wealth, and she refused and said, I, one person, how shall I carry this wealth?' And they said, 'What will you have?' And she said, 'You, father, I want your ring; and you, mother, I want your casket.' And they were very sorry, and asked her, 'Who told you about this?' And she said, 'I know it myself.' And they said, 'Not so; it is this your brother who told you.' And he took the ring and gave her, and said to her, 'I give you this ring. If you want food, if you want clothes, if you want a house for sleeping, tell the ring; it will produce it for you by the blessing of God and of me your father.' And her mother gave her the casket, and told her such and such things. And they gave her their blessing. And she went out and went away, till there by the town of her husband, without reaching her husband's house. When she reached the outskirts, she told the ring, 'I want you to produce for me a great house.' And it produced a house, and the furniture of the house and slaves. And she stayed, she and her son. And her son had become a great lad. And the king got news of there being a large house in the outskirts, and he sent people to go and look, and they answered him, 'It is true.' And the sultan arose with his vizirs and his son. And they went and drew near, and the woman looked through a telescope and saw her husband, and her husband's father, and many people, and her brother among them. And she told the people, 'Prepare food quickly.' And they prepared, and laid the table. And they arrived and were invited in, and went inside, and they asked her the news. And she said, 'Good.' And she said to them, 'Eat of the food. I come from a distance; when you have done with the food let me give you my news.' And they ate the food, till when they had finished she told them, from the beginning when she was born, she and her brother, till all were finished, as they had been. And the king's son went to embrace his wife, and they wept much, and all who were there wept, and they knew her brother was not good. And the king asked her, 'What shall we do to your brother?' And she said, 'Only put him out of the town.' And she dwelt with her husband till the end in joy. Another version of this story:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,Penta the Handless,"Giovanni Battista Basile, Il Pentamerone",Giambatista Basile (1566-1632) was an Italian (Neopolitan) poet and folktale collector. His collection Il Pentamerone was published posthumously in two volumes in 1634 and 1636. Link to the Wikipedia article on the Pentamerone.,"Giovanni Battista Basile, Il Pentamerone; or, The Tale of Tales , translated by Richard Burton, vol. 2 (London: Henry and Company, 1893), pp. 249-62.","Second Diversion of the Third Day Penta scorneth to wed her brother, and cutting off her hands, sendeth them to him as a present. He commandeth that she should be put within a chest and thrown into the sea. The tide casteth her upon a seashore. A sailor findeth her, and leadeth her to his home, but his wife thrusts her again into the same chest and into the sea. She is found by a king, and he taketh her to wife; but by the wickedness of the same woman, Penta is expelled from that kingdom. After sore troubles and travail she is recovered by her husband and her brother. The King of Preta-Secca having been bereft of his wife, the evil one entered his head, and suggested that he should take his sister Penta to wife. For this reason, sending for her one day, he met her alone, and said, 'Tis not a matter, O my sister, to be done by a man with sound judgment, to let the good which he hath in his own house depart; and besides one knoweth not how it will be, when one alloweth strange people to put their feet in one's house; therefore having well digested this business, I came to the resolution, and I purpose to take thee to wife, because thou art made of mine own breath, and I know thy nature. Be thou content therefore to be tied in this knot, to be set in this setting, to join this partnership, to enter into this uniantur acta, this mixture, et fiat potio, and let it be done, as both of us will do a good day's work.' Penta, hearing this thrust in fifth, stood nearly out of her mind, and her colour came and went, and she could scarce believe her own ears, thinking it impossible that her brother could jump to this height, and try to sell her a pair of rotten eggs when he needed an hundred fresh ones. Remaining silent for a while, thinking how she should answer to such an impertinent question, and out of purpose, at last, unloading the fardel of patience, she said, 'If thou hast lost thy wits, I will not lose my shame. I am in a transport of surprise at thee, that thou allowest such words to escape thy mouth, which if said in joke befit an ass, and if in earnest stink of lecherousness. I regret that, if thou hast tongue to speak such outrageous language, I have not ears to hearken thereto. I thy wife? Yes 'tis done for thee: oh, smell thy fill: Since when dost thou these foul tricks? This olla podrida? These mixtures? And where are we? In the ice? His sister, O baked-cheese! Ask thy priest to correct thee, and never allow such words to escape thy lips, or else I will do incredible things, and whilst thou esteem me not as a sister, I will not hold thee for what thou art to me.' And thus saying, she departed, and entering a chamber, locked and bolted the door, and saw not the face of her brother for more than a month, leaving the wretched king, who had listened with an hardened brow, to tire out the shot, scorned as a child who hath broken the juglet, and confounded as a cookmaid when the cat hath stolen the meat. After some days were past, the king again gave vent to his licentious desires, and she desiring to know what had caused her brother such great longing, and what was in her person that should put such a thought in his head, came forth out of her chamber, and went to him, and said, 'O my brother, I have admired myself and looked at myself in the mirror, and I cannot find anything in my face which could deserve and inspire such love as thine, as I am not such a sweet morsel to cause folk to pant and long for me.' And answered the king, 'Penta mine, thou art beauteous and accomplished from head to foot, but thine hand is the thing which above all others causeth me to faint with excessive desire: That hand is the fork which extracteth from the pot of this breast my heart and entrails: That hand is the hook, which lifteth from the cistern of my life the pail of my soul: That hand is the pincers, wherein is held my spirit whilst love is filing it. O hand, O beauteous hand, spoon, which administereth the soup of sweetness: nippers, which nip my longing and desire: shovel, which casteth dust within my heart!' And he would have said more, but Penta replied, 'Thou mayest go, I have heard thee; we will meet again;' and entering her chamber, she sent for a witless slave, and giving him a large knife and an handful of coins, said to him, 'Ali mine, cut off mine hands, I wish to make them beautiful in secret, and whiter.' The slave, believing he was doing her pleasure, with two blows cut them off. Then she had them laid in a faenza basin and sent them covered with a silken napkin to her brother, with a message that she hoped he would enjoy what he coveted most, and desiring him good health and twins, she saluted him. The king, beholding such a deed, was wroth with exceeding wrath, and he waxed furious, and ordered that a chest should be made straightway, well tarred outside, and commanded that his sister should be put therein, and cast into the sea. And this was done, and the chest sailed on battered by the waves until the tide projected it upon a seashore, where, found by some sailors who had been casting their nets, it was opened, and therein they beheld Penta, far more beautiful than the moon when it riseth after having spent its lenten time at Taranto. Masiello, who was the chief and the most courageous of those folk, carried her home, bidding Nuccia his wife to entreat her with kindness. But no sooner had her husband gone forth, than she, who was the mother of suspicion and jealousy, put Penta again within the chest, and cast her once more into the sea, where beaten by the waves, and buffeted here and there, it was at last met by a large vessel, on board of which was the King of Terra-Verde. Perceiving this chest floating about, the king instructed the sailors to strike sail and lay to, and ordering the small boat to be lowered, sent some of the sailors to pick up the chest. When they brought it on board, they opened it, and discovered therein the unhappy damsel, and the king, beholding this beauty alive within a coffin for the dead, believed that he had found a great treasure, although his heart wept because the casket of so many gems of love was found without handles. Taking her to his realm, the king gave her as maid of honour to the queen; and she did all possible services to the queen, as sew, thread the needle, starch the collars, and comb the queen's hair, with her feet, for which reason, no less than for her goodness, youth and beauty, she was held dear as the queen's own daughter. Now after a month or so was past, the queen was called to appear before the judgment seat of destiny to pay the debt to nature, and she asked the king to her bedside, and said to him, 'But a short while can my soul remain till she looseth the matrimonial knot between herself and the body; therefore hearten thy heart, O my husband, and strengthen thy soul. But if thou lovest me, and desirest that I should go content and consoled and comforted into the next world, thou must grant me a boon.' 'Command, O mine heart,' said the king, 'that if I cannot give thee proof whilst in life of my great love, I may give thee a sign of the affection I bear thee even after death.' Replied the queen, 'Now listen, as thou hast promised. As soon as mine eyes will be closed in the dust, thou must marry Penta, although we know not who she is, nor whence she came: yet by good breeding and fine bearing is known a steed of good race.' Answered the king, 'Live thou an hundred years; but even if thou shouldst say good-night to give me the evil day, I swear to thee that I shall take her to wife, and I care not that she is without hands and short of weight, for of the bad ones one must always take the least.' But these last words were uttered in an undertone so that his wife should not hear them. And as soon as the candle of the queen's days was put out, he took Penta to wife; and the first night that he lay with her she conceived. But after a time the king was obliged to sail for the kingdom of Anto-Scuoglio, and farewelling Penta, he weighed anchor. The nine months being over, Penta brought to the light a beauteous man-child, and all the city was illumined and tables spread in honour of the newborn babe, and the ministers and counsellors quickly dispatched a felucca to advise the king of what had taken place. Now the ship met stormy weather on the way, so that one moment it seemed as if she would meet the stars, and another moment that she would plunge into the very bottom of the ocean. At last, by the grace of heaven, she went ashore in the same place where Penta had been found, and had met with kindness and compassion from the chief of the sailors, and had been cast again into the sea by a woman's cruelty. As ill-fortune would have it, the same Nuccia was washing the linen of her child at the seashore, and curious to know the business of other people, as 'tis the nature of women, enquired of the felucca's master whence he came, and whither he was bound, and who had sent him. And the master answered, 'I come from Terra-Verde, and am going to Anto-Scuoglio to find the king of that country, to give him a letter, and for this I have been sent on purpose. I believe 'tis his wife that hath written to him. But I could not tell thee clearly what is the message.' Replied Nuccia, 'And who is the wife of this king?' And the master rejoined, 'From what I have heard said, she is a beauteous young dame, and she is hight Penta the Handless, as she hath lost both her hands. And I have heard them saying that she was found within a chest in the midst of the sea, and by her good fortune and destiny she hath become the king's wife, and I know not why she is writing to him in such haste that I needs must run against time and tide to reach him quickly.' Hearing these words, that jewess of a Nuccia invited the master to come and drink a glass in her house, and she plied him with liquor till he was dead drunk, and then taking the letter out of his pocket, she called a scribe and bade him read it. All the time the man read, she was dying with envy, and every syllable made her sigh deeply, and at the last she bade the same scribe to falsify the writing, and write to the king that the queen had given birth to a dog, and they awaited his orders to know what they should do with it. After it was written they sealed it, and she put it in the sailor's pocket, and when he awakened and beheld the weather changed, he weighed anchor, and tacked the ship, and fared with a light wind for Anto-Scuoglio. Arriving thereto, he presented the letter to the king, who, after reading it, answered, that they should keep the queen in cheerful spirits, so that she should not be troubled at all, for these things came through heaven's commandments, and a good man should not rebel against the stars' decree. And the master departed, and in a few days arrived at the same place, where Nuccia met him, and entreating him with exceeding great kindness, and giving him wine of extra good vintage, he fell to the ground intoxicated once more. And he slept heavily, and Nuccia putting her hand in his pocket found the answer; and calling the scribe bade him read it, and again bade him falsify a reply for the ministers and counsellors of Terra-Verde, which was, that they should burn at once mother and son. When the master got over his drinking bout, he departed; and arriving at Terra-Verde, presented the letter to the counsellors, and they opened it. When they had mastered its contents, there was a murmuring and whispering among those old sages; and they conversed at length about this matter, and concluded at last that either the king must be going mad, or that some one had cast a spell upon him, for when he had such a pearl of a wife and a gem of an heir, he ordered to make powder of them for death's teeth. So they took the middle course, and decided to send the queen and her son away from the city, where no news could ever be heard of them: And so, giving her some money so as to keep body and soul together, they sent out of the house a treasure, and from the city a great light, and from the husband the two props uplifting his hopes. The unhappy Penta, perceiving that they had expelled her, although she was not a dishonest woman, nor related to bandits, nor a fastidious student, taking the child in arms, whom she watered with her tears, and fed with her milk, departed, and fared toward Lago-Truvolo where dwelt a magician, and he beholding this beautiful maimed damsel who moved the hearts to compassion, this beauty who made more war with her maimed arms than Briareus with his hundred hands, asked her to relate to him the whole history of her misadventures. And she related to him how her brother, because she would not satisfy his lust of her flesh, sent her to be food for the fishes, and she continued her story up to the day in which she had set her foot in his kingdom. The magician, hearing this sad tale, wept with ceaseless weeping; and the compassion which entered through the ear-holes issued in sighs from the mouth; at last comforting her with kind words, he said, 'Keep a good heart, O my daughter, for no matter how rotten is the soul's home, it can be supported with the props of hope; and therefore let not thy spirit go forth, as heaven sometimes sendeth great trouble and travail, so as to make appear all the greater the marvellous coming of success. Doubt not, therefore, thou hast found father and mother here, and I will help thee with my own blood.' The sad-hearted Penta thanked him gratefully, and said, 'I care not now for aught. Let heaven rain misfortunes upon my head, and let a storm of ruin come, now that I am under thy shelter I fear naught as thou wilt protect me with thy grace as thou canst and wilt; and I feel like under the spell of childhood.' And after a thousand words of kindness on one side and thanks on the other, the magician allotted her a splendid apartment in his palace, and bade that she should be entreated as his own daughter. The next morning he sent for the crier and commanded that a ban should be published, that whosoever would come and relate at his court the greatest misfortune, he would present them with a crown and sceptre of gold, of the worth of a kingdom. And the news of this edict flew to all parts of Europe, and to that court came folk more than broccoli to gain such great riches, and one related that he had served at court all the days of his life, and had found that he had lost the water and the soap, his youth and health, and had been paid with a form of cheese. And another, that he had met with injustice from a superior, which he could not resent; and that he had been obliged to swallow the pill, and could not give vent to his anger. One lamented that he had put all his substance within a vessel, and owing to contrary winds had lost the cooked and the raw. Another complained that he had spent all his years in the exercise of his pen and had had so little fortune, that never had it brought him any gain, and he despaired of himself, seeing that matters of pen and ink were so fortunate in the world, whilst his only failed. Such was their case. In the meanwhile the King of Terra-Verde had returned to his kingdom; and finding this fine sirup at home, he became frantic, and acted as a mad unchained lion, and would have slain all the ministers and counsellors, if they had not shown him his own letter, and perceiving that it had been counterfeited, he sent for the ship's master, and bade him relate to him what had occurred in the voyage. And the king keenly divined that Masiello's wife must have worked him this evil; and arming and equipping a galley, he departed and sailed for that coast, and arriving there he sought and found the woman, and with kindly words he drew out from her the whole intrigue, and thus ascertaining that envy and jealousy had been the cause of this great misfortune, he commanded that the woman should be punished: and they well anointed her with wax and tallow, and put her among a heap of wood, setting fire thereto. And the king stood and watched till he beheld that the fire with its red tongues had licked up that wretched woman. He then ordered the sailors to weigh anchor and depart. And whilst sailing amid the sea, his craft was met by a large vessel, and on enquiry being made he found that on board of it was the King of Preta-Secca. They exchanged a thousand ceremonious compliments, and the King of Preta-Secca informed the King of Terra-Verde that he was sailing towards Lago-Truvolo, as the king of that kingdom had published a certain ban, and he was going to tempt his fortune, as he did not yield to any in misfortune, being the most sorrow-stricken man in all the world. Answered the King of Terra-Verde, 'If 'tis for such case thou goest, I can surpass thee, or at least equal thee, and I can give fifteen for a dozen, and excel the most unfortunate, whoever he be, and where the others measure their cark and care with a small lantern, I can measure it even to the grave. Therefore I will also come with thee, and let us act as gentlemen, each one of us, and whoso shall win of us two shall divide the winnings with the other, even to a fennel.' 'I agree to it,' answered the King of Preta-Secca, and plighting their word between them, they sailed together for Lago-Truvolo, where they disembarked, and fared to the royal palace, and presented themselves before the magician. And when he knew who they were, he entreated them with honour as due to kings, and bade them be seated under the dais, and said, 'Well come, and a thousand times welcome!' And hearing that they also had come to the trial of wretchedness and unhappiness of men, the magician enquired what great sorrow had subjected them to the south wind of sighs. And the King of Preta-Secca first began to tell of his love, and the wrong done to his own flesh and blood, and the honourable deed of a virtuous woman done by his sister, and his own dogheartedness in shutting her up into the chest, and casting her into the sea. And he grieved with exceeding grief as his conscience reproached him of his own error, and his sorrow was great, passing all distress, for the loss of his sister. In one way he was tormented by shame, in the other by the great loss: so that all the cark and care of the most great affliction in others was in him like hell compared to a lantern, and the quintessence of sorrow was as naught, compared with the anguish which gnawed at his heart. Having ended his say, the King of Terra-Verde began to relate, saying, 'Alas! thy sorrow and trouble are like small lumps of sugar, and cakes, and sweetmeats compared with mine, because that very Penta the Handless of whom thou hast spoken, and whom I found in that chest, like a Venice wax torch to burn at my funeral, I took to wife. And she conceived, and bare me a son of passing beauty, and by the envy and malignity of an hideous witch, both had nearly been slain. But, O sore nail to my heart, O anguish and sore affliction, I can never find peace and rest in this world! They were both expelled from my kingdom: and I have taste for naught, and I know not how under the heavy load of such cark and care, doth not fall the ass of this weary life.' The magician, having heard both their say, understood at once from the points of their noses that one of them was the brother, and the other the husband, of Penta, and sending for Nufriello the son, said to him, 'Go and kiss thy sire and lord's feet;' and the child obeyed the magician, and the father seeing the good breeding and beauty and grace of the little child threw a gold chain round his neck. And this done, the magician said again to the child, 'Go and kiss thy uncle's hand, O beauteous boy mine,' and the child obeyed at once. The uncle marvelling with exceeding marvel at the wit and spirit of the little one, presented him with a valuable gem, and enquired of the magician if he were his son, and he answered that they must enquire of his mother. Penta, who had been hid behind a curtain, and had heard the whole business, now came forth, and like a little dog who, having been lost, and after some days finding his master again, barks, and wags its tail, and bounds, and licks his hand, and gives a thousand signs of its delight: Thus it was with her, now going to the brother, and then to her husband, now clasped by the love of the one, and then drawn by the blood's instinct of the other, she embraced first one and then the other, and their delight, and joy, and happiness knew no bounds. Ye must suppose that it was a concert in three of broken words and interrupted sighs; but having ended this music, they then returned to caress the child, first the father, and then the uncle, clasped him, and kissed him, and embraced him. After that from both sides all was said and done, the magician concluded with these words, 'Heaven knoweth how this heart fluttereth with joy in beholding the happiness of all, and the lady Penta comforted, who for her own good deeds deserveth to be held in the palm of the hand, and by this scheme I tried to draw to this kingdom her husband and her brother, and to one and the other I submit myself their slave; but as man bindeth himself with words, and the ox is bound by the horns, and the promise of a worthy man is his bond, judging that the King of Terra-Verde was in sooth the one most likely to burst with grief, I will maintain my promise to him, and therefore I give him not only the crown and sceptre as hath been published by the ban, but my kingdom also. And as I have neither chick nor child, by your good grace I desire to take as my adopted children this handsome couple, husband and wife, and ye will be dear unto me as the eyeball of mine eyes; and because there should be naught left for Penta to desire, let her put her maimed limbs between her legs, and she will withdraw them with a pair of hands more beauteous than she had before.' And this being done, and all happening as the magician had said, the joy was great: They were out of mind with delight. The husband esteemed this the greater good fortune, more than the other kingdom given to him by the magician; and for a few days there were great joyances and feasting, and then the King of Preta-Secca returned to his kingdom, and the King of Terra-Verde sent his brother-in-law to his realm, bidding his younger brother take his place, and he and his wife remained with the magician, forgetting in joy and delight the past travail, and taking the world to witness, that: There is naught sweet and dear Unless one hath been first tried by the bitter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,Sun and Moon,Eskimo,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Fridtjof Nansen, Eskimo Life, translated by William Archer, 2nd edition (London and New York: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1894), pp. 275-76. Source (Internet Archive): Fridtjof Nansen, Eskimo Life, translated by William Archer, 2nd edition (London and New York: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1894), pp. 275-76.","The heavenly bodies were once ordinary Eskimos, living upon the earth, who, for one reason or an other, have been translated to the skies. The sun was a fair woman, and the moon her brother, and they lived in the same house. She was visited every night by a man, but could not tell who it was. In order to find out, she blackened her hands with lamp-soot, and rubbed them upon las back. When the morning came, it turned out to be her brother, for his white reindeer-skin was all smudged; and hence come the spots on the moon. The sun seized a crooked knife, cut off one of her breasts, and threw it to him, crying: 'Since my whole body tastes so good to you, eat this.' Then she lighted a piece of lamp-moss and rushed out; the moon did likewise and ran after her, but his moss went out, and that is why he looks like a live cinder. He chased her up into the sky, and there they still are.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Bad Stepmother,Ireland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Patrick Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts (London: Macmillan and Company, 1866), pp. 17-22. Source (Internet Archive): Patrick Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts (London: Macmillan and Company, 1866), pp. 17-22.","Once there was aa king, and he had two fine children, a girl and a boy; but he married again after their mother died, and a very wicked woman she was that he put over them. One day when he was out hunting, the stepmother came in where the daughter was sitting all alone, with a cup of poison in one hand and a dagger in the other, and made her swear that she would never tell any one that ever was christened what she would see her doing. The poor young girl -- she was only fifteen -- took the oath, and just after the queen took the king's favourite dog and killed him before her eyes. When the king came back, and saw his pet lying dead in the hall, he flew into a passion, and axed who done it; and says the queen, says she, 'Who done it but your favourite daughter? There she is. Let her deny it if she can!' The poor child burst out a crying, but wasn't able to say anything in her own defence bekase of her oath. Well, the king did not know what to do or to say. He cursed and swore a little, and hardly ate any supper. The next day he was out a hunting the queen killed the little son, and left him standing on his head on the window-seat of the lobby. Well, whatever way the king was in before, he went mad now in earnest. 'Who done this?' says he to the queen. 'Who, but your pet daughter?' 'Take the vile creature,' says he to two of his footmen, 'into the forest, and cut off her two hands at the wrists, and maybe that'll teach her not to commit any more murders. Oh, Vuya, Vuya!' says he, stamping his foot on the boarded floor, 'what a misfortunate king I am to lose my childher this way, and had only the two. Bring me back the two hands, or your own heads will be off before sunset.' When he stamped on the floor a splinter ran up into his foot through the sole of his boot; but he didn't mind it at first, he was in such grief and anger. But when he was taking off his boots, he found the splinter fastening one of them on his foot. He was very hardset to get it off, and was obliged to send for a surgeon to get the splinter out of the flesh; but the more he cut and probed, the further it went in. So he was obliged to lie on a sofia all day, and keep it poulticed with bowl-almanac or some other plaster. Well, the poor princess, when her arms were cut off, thought the life would leave her; but she knew there was a holy well off in the wood, and to it she made her way. She put her poor arms into the moss that was growing over it, and the blood stopped flowing, and she was eased of the pain, and then she washed herself as well as she could. She fell asleep by the well, and the spirit of her mother appeared to her in a dream, and told her to be good, and never forget to say her prayers night and morning, and that she would escape every snare that would be laid for her. When she awoke next morning she washed herself again, and said her prayers, and then she began to feel hungry. She heard a noise, and she was so afraid that she got into a low broad tree that hung over the well. She wasn't there long till she saw a girl with a piece of bread and butter in one hand, and a pitcher in the other, coming and stooping over the well. She looked down through the branches, and if she did, so sure the girl saw her face in the water, and thought it was her own. She looked at it again and again, and then, without waiting to eat her bread or fill her pitcher, she ran back to the kitchen of a young king's palace that was just at the edge of the wood. 'Where's the water?' says the housekeeper. 'Wather!' says she; 'it 'ud be a purty business for such handsome girl as I grew since yesterday, to be fetchin' wather for the likes of the people that's here. It's married to the young prince I ought to be.' 'Oh! to Halifax with you,' says the housekeeper, 'I'll soon cure your impedence.' So she locked her up in the storeroom, an' kep' her on bread and water. To make a long story short, two other girls were sent to the well, and all were in the same story when they cum back. An' there was such a thravally [corruption of 'reveillé'] ruz in the kitchen about it at last, that the young king came to hear the rights of it. The last girl told him what happened to herself, and nothing would do the prince but go to the well to see about it. When he came he stooped and saw the shadow of the beautiful face; but he had sense enough to look up, and he found the princess in the tree. Well, it would take me too long to tell yez all the fine things he said to her, and how modestly she answered him, and how he handed her down, and was almost ready to cry when he seen her poor arms. She would not tell him who she was, nor the way she was persecuted on account of her oath; but the short and the long of it was, that he took her home, and couldn't live if she didn't marry him. Well, married they were; and in course of time they had a fine little boy; but the strangest thing of all was that the young queen begged her husband not to have the child baptized till he'd be after coming home from the wars that the King of Ireland had just then with the Danes. He agreed, and set off to the camp, giving a beautiful jewel to her just as his foot was in the stirrup. Well, he wrote to her every second day, and she wrote to him every second day, and dickens a letter ever came to the hands of him or her. For the wicked stepmother had her watched all along, from the very day she came to the well till the king went to the wars; and she gave such a bribe to the postman (!) that she got all the letters herself. Well, the poor king didn't know whether he was standing on his head or his feet, and the poor queen was crying all the day long. At last there was a letter delivered to the king; and this was wrote by the wicked stepmother herself, as if it was from the young queen to one of the officers, asking him to get a furlough, and come and meet her at such a well, naming the one in the forest. He got this officer, that was as innocent as the child unborn, put in irons, and sent two of his soldiers to put the queen to death, and bring him his young child safe. But the night before, the spirit of the queen's mother appeared to her in a dream, and told her the danger that was coming. 'Go,' said she, 'with your child tomorrow morning to the well, and dress yourself in your maid's clothes before you leave the house; wash your arms in the well once more, and take a bottle of the water with you, and return to your father's palace. Nobody will know you. The water will cure him of a disorder he has, and I need not say any more.' Just as the young queen was told, just so she done; and when she was after washing her face and arms, lo and behold! her nice soft hands were restored; but her face that was as white as cream was now as brown as a berry. So she fell on her knees and said her prayers, and then she filled her bottle, and set out for her father's court with her child in her arms. The sentries at the palace gates let her pass when she said she was coming to cure the king; and she got to where he was lying in pain before the stepmother knew anything about it, for herself was sick at the time. Before she opened her mouth the king loved her, she looked so like his former queen and his lost daughter, though her face was so swarthy. She hardly washed his wound with the water of the holy well when out came the splinter, and he was as strong on his limbs as a new ditch. Well, hadn't he great cooramuch about the brown-faced woman and her child, and nothing that the wicked queen could do would alter his opinion of her. The old rogue didn't know who she was, especially as she wasn't without the hands; but it was her nature to be jealous of every one that the king cared for. In two or three weeks the wars was over, and the young king was returning home, and the road he took brought him by his father-in-law's. The old king would not let him pass by without giving him an entertainment for all his bravery again' the Danes, and there was great huzzaing and cheering as he was riding up the avenue and through the courtyard. Just as he was alighting, his wife held up his little son to him, with the jewel in his little hand. He got a wonderful fright. He knew his wife's features, but they were so tawny, and her pretty brown hands were to the good, and the child was his own picture, but still she couldn't be his false princess. He kissed the child, and passed on, but hardly said a word till dinner was over. Then says he to the old king, 'Would you allow a brown woman and her child that I saw in the palace yard, to be sent for, till I speak to her?' 'Indeed an' I will,' said the other. 'I owe my life to her.' So she came in, and the young king made her sit down very close to him. 'Young woman,' says he, 'I have a particular reason for asking who you are, and who is the father of that child.' 'I can't tell you that, sir,' said she, 'because of an oath I was obliged to take never to tell my story to any one that was christened. But my little boy was never christened, and to him I'll tell everything. My little son, you must know that my wicked stepmother killed my father's favourite dog, and killed my own little brother, and made me swear never to tell any one that ever received baptism, about it. She got my own father to have my hands chopped off, and I'd die only I washed them in the holy well in the forest. A king's son made me his wife, and she got him by forged letters to send orders to have me killed. The spirit of my mother watched over me; my hands were restored; my father's wound was healed; and now I place you in your own father's arms. Now, you may be baptized, thank God! And that's the story I had to tell you.' She took a wet towel, and wiped her face, and she became as white and red as she was the day of her marriage. She had like to be hurt with her husband and her father pulling her from each other; and such laughing and crying never was heard before or since. If the wicked stepmother didn't make her escape, she was torn between wild horses; and if they all didn't live happy after -- that you and I may!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Cruel Stepmother,Scotland,NA,"Peter Buchan, Ancient Scottish Tales: An Unpublished Collection Made by Peter Buchan, introduction by John A. Fairley (Peterhead, 1908), pp. 25-28.","About the year 800, there lived a rich nobleman in a sequestered place of Scotland, where he wished to conceal his name, birth, and parentage, as he had fled from the hands of justice to save his life for an action he had been guilty of committing in his early years. It was supposed, and not without some good show of reason, that his name was Malcolm, brother to Fingal, King of Morven. Be this as it may, it so happened that he had chosen a pious and godly woman for his consort; who, on giving birth to a daughter, soon after departed this life. Malcolm (as we shall call him, for the better understanding of his history) lived a widower for the space of sixteen years, when thinking that his daughter now became of such age as to leave him, if she got a good offer. With these thoughts full in his head, he went to a distant place of the country where the thane of Mull dwelt, and made love to one of his daughters, whom he afterwards married and brought to his own domain. The new come bride had no sooner fixed her eyes on Beatrix, (for that was his daughter's name) than she conceived the most deadly hatred imaginable; so much so, that it almost deprived her of her rest, meditating schemes how to get rid of her, as she envied her for her superior beauty. One day on her husband going ahunting, she took the young lady and bound her by an oath that whatever she saw or heard her do or say, she would conceal the same from her father. The oath being extorted from her by threatening her with death and destruction, if she did not comply. The first act of the stepmother was to go into the garden and cut down a favourite tree which was in full blossom, and so destroyed the root and beauty of the branches by burning the same. On Malcolm's return, he immediately discovered the want of his favourite tree, and getting into such a passion, few could approach the place where he was for a considerable length of time. When his passion had somewhat subsided, he asked his wife what had become of it, or how it had been destroyed, but she desired him to ask his daughter, as she knew nothing about it herself. Beatrix was then summoned before him, and interrogated with all the rigour of a passionate father, as to her knowledge of the destruction of his tree. Her only answer was, that He was above who knew all about it. No more satisfaction would she give him. A second time he went from home, and on his return found his favourite hound weltering in his blood. This again renewed his passion, but who was the guilty person he could never learn; on enquiring at his daughter, he received the same answer as formerly. A third time he went ahunting, and on his return found his favourite hawk lying dead; but the perpetrators of these horrid deeds he could not discover. On applying to his wife, he was requested to ask his daughter; and on consulting her, her answer was as at the first. His wife thereby seeing that all the stratagems which she had devised for her destruction had proved abortive; to gratify her mortal hatred, rather than suffer her to live, she would sacrifice everything she had in the world. One year had scarcely passed in this disagreeable manner, when the lady was delivered of a fine boy, which soon became the darling of his father. This was too glaring not to be easily perceived by the mother; but rather than live the life which she had done since they had been married, with the envious venom rankling in her breast, she would destroy her own child and offspring. This being determined upon, one night when Beatrix was in bed soundly sleeping, dreading no harm, this bad woman, her stepmother, took a knife, bereaved the sweetly smiling young thing of its life, and laid it with the knife reeking in gore, into the arms of the innocent Beatrix. After having been in bed for some time with her husband, she started as from some frightful dream, crying, 'O, my child, what has become of my lovely child!' This alarmed the father, who, on looking for the child, it was not to be found. The mother then said, she was much afraid that Beatrix had stole it away from them while they slept, and had murdered it. The father, by no means could be made to believe this; but upon examining her bed, the child was discovered horribly mangled, and the knife beside it. He was now petrified with horror, and could ask nor answer anything. It was in vain for the young lady to plead ignorance, or deny the guilty deed, the proofs were too strong, as certainly no one could have suspected the unnatural mother of such cruel barbarity; and no one else had access to the place where it lay but Beatrix. Her father then having determined to put her to the most cruel torture for the death of his beloved child; she was now charged with all the other bad deeds which had been committed for the space of the bygone twelve months in his house and premises, which caused him to take her to a wood, and after having cut off her right hand and arm, he next cut off her right leg. She still pleaded her innocence, but rather than perjure herself, she would suffer all that he choosed to inflict upon her; but as proof of her innocence, she told him on his way homewards, a thorn would so stick in his foot that none but herself could extract, and that only after her arm and leg had been reunited to her body as before. He paid no attention to this, but next cut out her tongue, and left her to perish, or to be destroyed by wild beasts in the wood. She had not, however, lain long in this humiliating posture, till a knight came riding that way, when, on observing her, he alighted from his horse, and enquired the nature of her sufferings As she could not speak, she made signs to him for pen, ink, and paper, when she wrote an account of the whole. He then took her on his horse behind him and carried her home to his mother, who being acquainted with the virtues of the water of a particular well near by, she soon restored to her the full use of her amputated limbs; but her tongue still continued useless. The knight, notwithstanding the deficiency of the want of her tongue and speech, took such a liking to her that they were shortly after married, and lived in the greatest peace and pleasure, till one day that he was necessitated to leave his country on some very urgent business. Previously to his setting off, he had matters so arranged, that by giving certain directions to his wife, she might write to him by her page. All things being prepared, the knight went away with a sorrowful heart. He had not been long away till his wife became sick at heart (being pregnant), and longed to see her esteemed lord. A message was then sent to the place of his residence with a request that he would return immediately home. The messenger was her own page, who was enjoined to make every dispatch, and not to tarry on the way; but these instructions he soon forgot when out of sight and reach of his mistress. As he journeyed on his way, it so happened that he should take up his abode for the night in the very house of Beatrix's father. His lady, observing the stranger, was desirous of knowing his errand, and so prevailed upon him to give her a sight of the letter which he carried from Beatrix to her husband. By her fair speeches, she so won his heart, that he gave it to her. On opening it she soon discovered from whom it came, and tore it, and wrote in its place one, as if come from his mother, requesting him to put away or destroy the bad woman he had brought unto her. To this letter he made no reply, when a second one was written by his wife, not knowing the cause of his delay; but it shared the same fate as the former, and another of like tenor, breathing the bitterest enmity and hatred against his beloved and virtuous wife, put in its place. On receiving this second menacing letter, he hurried home, and finding his wife in the house, without any provocation or enquiry, he immediately dragged her forth, and abused her very unmercifully, till having driven her into a ditch to get quit of her altogether, a powerful herb happened to get into her mouth in the course of her struggle, which at once restored to her the use of her speech. It now became her turn to interrogate him, and ask why he had used her so cruelly without a cause. He then showed her the letters which he had received purporting to be from his mother. She said they were not written by his mother, as they lived on the most friendly terms imaginable. It was then referred to his mother, who, on seeing them, was no less surprised than vexed at them, and at his maltreating his wife so basely. The page was then called and examined, when he confessed what he had done. The knight, without further enquiry into the matter, took his sword and cut off his head, and threw it away, as a warning to all others not to betray their trust, but behave in a more upright and honourable manner. As it was at length discovered that the cruel stepmother had been the sole cause of the whole of Beatrix's misfortunes, she was adjudged to be put to an ignominious death by the most cruel torture, which was put into execution immediately after, as a just reward for her hatred and cruelty. Beatrix then relieved her father from the pain which he suffered in his foot by a thorn which stuck in it, and baffled all the medical skill of that part of the country. They afterwards lived to a good old age and died in peace.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Daughter Who Was Promised to the Devil,Germany Finland (Wuokkiniemi),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Bernhard Baader, 'Tochter dem Teufel verschrieben,' Neugesammelte Volkssagen aus dem Lande Baden und den angrenzenden Gegenden (Karlsruhe: A. Gessner'sche Buchhandlung, 1859), no. 131, pp. 97-100. Source (Internet Archive): Bernhard Baader, 'Tochter dem Teufel verschrieben,' Neugesammelte Volkssagen aus dem Lande Baden und den angrenzenden Gegenden (Karlsruhe: A. Gessner'sche Buchhandlung, 1859), no. 131, pp. 97-100. Source (books.google.com): Emmy Schreck, 'Das Mädchen ohne Hände,'Finnische Märchen (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1887), no. 12, pp. 98-107. Source (Internet Archive): Emmy Schreck, 'Das Mädchen ohne Hände,'Finnische Märchen (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1887), no. 12, pp. 98-107.","He received the money and returned home with it, then told his wife how he had come by it. She told him that he had promised his daughter to the devil. At the fateful moment she had been behind the mill separating grain kernels from the dust, prior to cooking them to eat. They were greatly saddened, but decided to tell their daughter nothing. That night the Evil One came to the mill and knocked on the door. The daughter opened it, but because she was a pious girl, at bedtime having sprinkled herself with holy water in the names of the three Holiest Ones, the devil was not able to take her away. Instead he just pushed her away. The same thing happened the following night, after which the miller -- as commanded by the Evil One -- did away with the holy water. On the third night, having no holy water, the girl blessed herself with water that had condensed on the window. As a result, when the devil returned that night he was again unable to do anything to her. The next morning she told her parents what had happened in the previous three nights, whereupon they revealed everything to her. With that she laid her hand on a block and with an axe chopped it off herself. Then she had her other hand chopped off and granted both hands to the devil, upon which they immediately disappeared. She then left home, praying fervently and crossing herself with her arms. She came to a beautiful garden next to the royal palace. In order to still her hunger she picked up a few apples with her mouth and ate them. Her wounds were still bleeding, and thus the prince discovered her tracks. He followed them for two days without success, but on the third day -- with the help of his dog -- he found the girl peacefully sleeping in the brush. She pleased him so much that he married her. She did not become proud, remaining instead her pious and humble self. Some time later he had to go off to war, and during his absence she gave birth to twin boys. She informed the prince of the good news in a letter. The messenger carrying the letter fell asleep at a forest spring. The Evil One came and substituted the princess's letter with one describing the most terrible things that the princess ostensibly had done. The prince wrote back that one should treat his wife with the utmost respect, but the messenger again fell asleep at the spring, and the devil again substituted a false letter for the true one. The false letter commanded that the princess and her children be driven out. This was done, with one child tied to her breast and the other one tied to her back. Suffering from thirst, she came to a spring, but because of the children she could not bend down to drink. She called upon God for help, and at once a man approached her. He untied the children and told her to lay her arms on the stump that suddenly appeared before her. On it were her chopped-off hands. She did what the man told her to, and he healed her. Immediately she was able to use her hands again. She then came to a wilderness where there was no shelter. She prayed fervently, and behold, suddenly a little hut was standing there, complete with furnishings and provisions. With thanks she settled there, living the pious life of a hermit. Whenever she ran out of food, her prayers were answered, and fresh food appeared. Years passed, and one evening a man came to her hut and asked for shelter. Because she had only one bed, she had him sleep on a bench. In the night he heard how the children said to each other, 'If only we could see our father.' In the morning he asked her about this, and learned from her how she had been driven out. 'If you had no hands, I would think that you were my wife, who was driven away without cause. Since the war I have been seeking her for many years,' he said. She then told him how she had received her hands again, showing him how they had healed. They then recognized each other, and together with their children they all rejoiced. The prince decided to share a hermit's life with her. In answer to the wife's prayers a larger hut suddenly stood in place of the smaller one, with more furnishings and provisions. And here they served God until their blessed end. Lying on her deathbed she admonished her children, saying, 'Live peacefully together, my dear children! I must leave you now.' She had scarcely said her farewell when she too died. The boy and the girl stayed in their old home and lived peacefully together. Some time later the brother became lonely and he decided to get married. 'Bless me on my journey, little sister. I'm going to seek myself a wife.' 'Yes, get married, get married, dear brother,' said the sister to him, and wished him luck on his journey. The brother took leave from his sister and went on his way. He happened to meet a witch who asked to be his wife. Not knowing who she was, he accepted her and took her to his house. For a time they all lived peacefully together, as well as one could wish for. Although the brother now had a wife, he loved his sister as much as before, and he let her do whatever she wanted to in the house. The witch did not like this; it angered her that she was not in charge of the household. One day the man wanted to go into the woods, and first of all he took leave from his sister, saying, 'Bless me, little sister. I'm going out into the woods.' 'Be on your way, be on your way!' answered the sister. Then the man left, without saying anything to his wife about where he was going. The witch became angrier and angrier because he had not confided in her. Her hatred toward the sister grew ever stronger in her heart. What should she do? While the man was in the woods the witch went to the stall and killed the cows, sheep, horses, and everything. When she saw the man returning home she ran to him at the gate and shouted, 'Just ask for your sister's blessing another time! While you were gone she killed the cows, sheep, horses, and everything that was in the farmyard. 'She can kill the animals,' answered the man. 'They belonged to her.' And he did not think anything more about the situation. Some time passed before the man had to go into the woods again, and once more he asked his sister for her blessing without telling his wife where he was going. Then his wife broke all the kitchenware in the house, everything except a single spoon and a bag and a basket made of birchbark. When the man returned from the woods she ran to him, saying, 'Just ask for you sister's blessing another time! She smashed all the kitchenware, everything except a single spoon and a bag and a basket made of birchbark.' However, the man did not get upset. He said, 'Let her smash everything. It all belongs to her.' Some time passed, and once again the man took leave from his wife and went into the woods without telling his wife what he was doing. Now his wife had just given birth to a son. She killed her own child, then when her husband returned she accused the sister of the crime, saying, 'This is what you get for favoring your sister! While you were away she killed your only son that I gave birth to!' The man finally became angry with his sister, believing that she had murdered his child. Sadly he asked, 'How should we punish this miserable creature? Should we kill her, just as she has killed our child?' 'We'll think up a punishment,' said the wife. 'Let's take her out to pick berries, then cut off her hands and leave her in the woods.' The man was so sad that he couldn't say anything against his wife, and he let her have her way. Then all three rowed to an island to pick berries. They gathered them for some time, and finally the brother said to his sister, 'Little Sister, come with me to the beach. We didn't pull the boat up onto the shore, and I'm afraid that the wind might blow it away.' The sister went with her brother to the beach and attempted to pull up the boat. In that same moment the brother grabbed an axe and chopped off both of her hands on the edge of the boat. Then he abandoned the poor mutilated girl on the deserted island and rowed home with his wife. The poor abandoned girl could not just stay there and die. In her sorrow she walked about on the island, wandering aimlessly in the woods. After walking some distance she came to a beautiful orchard filled with all kinds of fruit trees. She climbed through the fence and sat down in the shade of the trees to rest. She lived in this orchard for some time. When she was hungry she snapped with her mouth at the sweet berries that grew round about. When the birds ate fruit from the trees, with her hand-stumps she grabbed the scraps that they dropped. Thus she stayed alive. The orchard that the girl had stumbled onto belonged to a prince. One time this prince dreamed that he was strolling in the orchard where he found a beautiful girl. Awaking the next morning he remembered the dream and hurried to the orchard, where he had not been for a long time. He walked among the trees and behold! He saw a young girl sitting in the shade and now and then picking berries with her mouth. The prince wondered who this stranger might be. He greeted her friendlily, asking, 'Have you no hands? Are you blind? Or deaf? Why are sitting here all alone?' Seeing the prince so frightened the girl that she was unable to say anything, but instead hid her arms between the bushes. The prince came closer to her and recognized her as the girl he had seen in his dream. She was perfectly beautiful, although she had no hands and looked terribly sad. The prince spoke lovingly to the girl, and she gradually lost her fear of him, then told him how they had chopped off her hands and how she had wandered into the orchard. After she had finished, the prince came close to her and said, 'My brave girl, you have suffered so much! Come with me to my castle, and you shall become my wife!' 'Oh, prince, don't make fun of me! You are not speaking the truth!' 'But surely I am speaking the truth!' assured the prince. 'Do come with me, sweet girl, please come!' The girl still resisted, begging, 'Don't make fun of me, my king!' The prince asked and pled so long that the girl finally gave in and promised to go with him. And thus the prince took to girl without hands to his home. Arriving together at the castle, the youth went to his parents and said, 'Father, Mother, give me your blessing to get married, as God has led me to such a wonderfully beautiful bride!' Now what? The parents saw that the girl was not only beautiful, but also well mannered, and they gave their permission for their son's marriage. The wedding was celebrated at the castle, and thus the prince ennobled to royalty the girl he had found in the orchard. They lived together for some time in luck and happiness. Everyone in the castle was impressed with the young wife's beauty and virtue. Never before had such a beautiful and gentle being been seen in the castle. But it was such a shame that the poor one had no hands! Then it happened that prince had to travel to another castle on pressing business, leaving his young wife at home, although she was pregnant. On the way he happened to stay overnight at the farmstead where his wife had been born. Her brother and the witch were still living there as before. After they had sat for some time in the living room, the witch asked, 'Would the traveler like a bath?' 'Indeed the traveler would like a bath!' replied the prince, and went into the bathroom. Just then a messenger came from the castle with a report that the prince's wife had given birth to a son, so beautiful that his equal could not be found anywhere on earth. The prince returned from his bath, read the fake letter, and was so sad that he cried bitterly and for a long time was unable to speak. Finally he sent the messenger back to the castle with a letter stating, 'Whatever my wife gave birth to, keep both her and her offspring alive until I return.' Once again the witch was able to intercept the letter. She threw it into the fire and wrote a forged letter ordering that without delay the mother and her child should be put into a cask and thrown into the sea. The messenger rushed back to the castle and delivered the letter. What sorrow ruled in the king's house! Everyone was sorry for the young wife. Even the king wept as he said to his daughter-in-law, 'My daughter, it has been ordered to put you and your child into a cask and throw you into the sea. Not even I can save you, you poor one! I must obey this order although it breaks my heart to do so!' The young queen was certainly sorrowful about her harsh lot -- that she and her child were to die in the cask -- but she yielded to her husband's command. The king had a large iron cask built and outfitted it in the best possible manner. Then the young wife and here child were put into it and thrown into the sea. The cask tossed to and fro on the waves. For three years it drifted about, and the woman's child grew. Suddenly the cask struck something. Then again and again it struck something. The two inside the cask did not know what was happening. Finally the boy asked, 'Mother, don't you have a needle. I want to bore a hole into the cask in order to look out and see what we are bumping up against.' 'Here is a needle,' said the mother, reaching one to him as a joke. It was scarcely in his hands before he began to bore. He bored and bored until he had a hole in the side of the cask. He looked out through this peep-hole and saw a cliff in the ocean against which the cask was bumping. Excitedly he said to his mother, 'I want to knock the bottom out of this cask; then we can climb out onto the cliff.' 'Don't knock the bottom out, or we will fall into the ocean!' warned the mother. But the boy had already broken the cask to pieces, and mother and son rescued themselves onto the cliff. But what should they do now? The cliff was barren. Suddenly a giant wave arose. It flooded over the stone, carrying away the boy. The poor mother saw with bitter grief how her only son disappeared into the waves. There was nothing that she could do. Only with great exertion was she herself able to land onto the slippery rock. She prayed to God for help, calling out, 'Oh, my God, help me onto the shore, as you have already spared my life!' Once again a giant wave arose. It washed the woman from the cliff and carried her to the shore of the mainland. The poor woman sat there in deep sorrow, not knowing what to do, for she did not recognize the desolate shore. Then she happened to notice a pike swimming near the shore, lost among the stones and unable to find its way out. The woman captured it with her arm-stumps. The pike suddenly spoke to her, asking: 'O, you good woman, do not kill me! I will show you something amazing!' 'More than enough amazing things have happened to me,' replied the young woman sadly. She did not kill the pike, but released it back into the sea. The thankful pike raised its head out of the water and said, 'Don't be sad, good woman. Walk along the shore a little way. You will find a mass of sea-foam next to a cliff. Wash your stumps with it, and your chopped-off hands will grow back immediately. Then rub your healed hands together, and your son, who was carried away by the waves, will be returned to you.' She did what that pike had told her to do. She washed her stumps with the foam, and her hands grew back. And as she was rubbing the foam between her hands, her son, whom she had given up as lost, suddenly appeared before her. 'Wow, wow! I slept for a week!' said the boy to his mother. 'Without me you would have slept for many a week, my son!' answered the mother. She told him how the pike had helped her in her time of need. The two of them wandered aimlessly along the seashore, hoping to discover some human habitation. Finally they came to a farmstead and stepped into the living room. Behold, it was the young woman's former home, where her brother and his wife still lived as before. The prince, underway on one of his accustomed trading journeys, had stopped overnight at the familiar farmstead. He was sitting in the living room when the young woman stepped inside with her son. No one recognized her, for grief and great suffering had changed her, and her clothing was tattered and torn; but she immediately recognized all the others. She quietly whispered to her son who they were, pointing out her husband, her brother, and the witch. They did not know who the strangers were, assuming that they were beggars. But they were amazed at the boy, who was so good-looking that no words could describe his beauty: The brother's wife and the prince spoke to him cordially, saying, 'You, dear boy, tell us a story. You must know a lot, having wandered about so far in the world.' 'If I am to tell my story,' replied the boy, 'then you must place guards at the door so that no one can get in or out.' They placed guards at the door and ordered the boy to tell his story. Standing next to his mother, he began to relate the course of his life. The witch saw what was happening and demanded that he stop talking. However, the mother would not be deterred, and she narrated their experiences to the end. Now they all recognized the prince's wife and wondered how she had recovered her hands. She explained how the pike had helped her in her time of need. There arose such jubilation in the brother's house that it cannot be described. Everyone went to the castle with the prince, and they lived happily together. However, the witch was bound to the tails of wild stallions and ripped to pieces. And that's the end of the story.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Girl without Hands (Grimm1812),"Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (1812)",NA,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Mädchen ohne Hände,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales], 1st edition, vol. 1 (Berlin: In der Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 31, pp. 132-38.","There he was approached by an old man, who said, 'Why do you torment yourself so? I will make you rich if you will sign over to me that which is standing behind your mill. I will come and claim it in three years.' The miller thought, 'That is my apple tree,' agreed, and signed it over to the man. When he came home, his wife said to him, 'Miller, where did all the wealth come from that suddenly has filled every chest and cupboard in our house?' 'I received it from an old man in the forest by signing over to him that which is standing behind the mill.' 'Husband!' said the woman, terrified. 'This is going to be very bad. The old man was the devil, and he had our daughter in mind, who was just then standing behind the mill sweeping the yard.' Now the miller's daughter was very beautiful and pious. Three years later when the devil came, early in the morning, and wanted to take her, she had drawn a circle around herself with chalk and had washed herself clean. Therefore the devil could not approach her, and angrily he said to the miller, 'Keep wash-water away from her, so she cannot wash herself any more, and I can have power over her.' The miller was frightened and did what he was told. The next day the devil returned, but she had wept into her hands and washed herself with her tears, and was entirely clean. Because the devil still could not approach her, he was very angry, and ordered the miller, 'Chop off her hands, so I can get to her.' The miller was horrified and answered, 'How could I chop off my dear child's hands? No, I will not do it.' 'Then do you know what? I will take you, if you don't do it!' That frightened the miller terribly, and driven by fear he promised to do what the devil had ordered. He went to his daughter and said, 'My child, the devil will take me if I don't chop off both your hands, and I have promised him that I will do it. I beg for your forgiveness.' 'Father,' she said, 'do with me what you will,' stretched forth her hands, and let him chop them off. The devil came a third time, but she had wept so long onto her stumps, that she was still entirely clean, and the devil had lost all power over her. The miller, because he had become so wealthy through her, promised to take the best care of her for the rest of her life, but she did not want to remain there. 'I must leave here,' she said. 'Compassionate people will give me enough to keep me alive.' She had the chopped-off hands tied to her back, and she set forth with the rising sun, walking the entire day until evening, when she came to the king's garden. There was a gap in the garden hedge. She went inside, found a fruit tree, shook it with her body until the apples fell to the ground, bent over and picked them up with her teeth, and ate them. Thus she lived for two days, but on the third day the garden watchmen saw her, captured her, and threw her into prison. The next morning she was brought before the king and sentenced to be banished from the land, but the prince said, 'Wait, wouldn't it be better to let her tend the chickens in the courtyard?' So she stayed there for a time and tended the chickens. The prince saw her often and grew very fond of her. Meanwhile the time came when he was to get married. Messengers were sent everywhere in the world to find him a beautiful bride. 'You needn't look so far and wide,' he said. 'I know where one is very nearby.' The old king pondered this back and forth, but he could not think of a single maiden in his kingdom who was both beautiful and rich. 'You surely don't want to marry the one who tends the chickens in the courtyard?' But his son declared that he would marry no one else, so finally the king had to agree. Soon afterward he died, and the prince succeeded him as king and lived happily for a time with his wife. Once the king had to go away to war, and during his absence his wife gave birth to a beautiful child. She sent a messenger with a letter telling her husband the joyful news. On the way the messenger stopped to rest by a brook and fell asleep. The devil, who was still trying to harm her, came to him and exchanged the letter with one that stated that the queen had given birth to a changeling. The king was very saddened to read this, but he wrote that the queen and the child should be well cared for until his return. The messenger started back with this letter. When he stopped to rest at the same spot and fell asleep, the devil again appeared, this time exchanging the king's letter with one that ordered the queen and the child to be driven from the kingdom. This had to be done, however much the people all wept with sorrow. 'I did not come here to become queen,' she said. 'I have no luck, and I demand none. Just tie my child and my hands onto my back, and I will set forth into the world.' That evening she came to a place in a thick forest where a good old man was sitting by a spring. 'Be so kindhearted as to hold my child to my breast until I have nursed him,' she said. The man did that, after which he said to her, 'Go to that thick tree over there and wrap your maimed arms around it three times!' And when she had done this, her hands grew back on. Then he showed her a house. 'You can live there,' he said, 'but do not go outside, and do not open the door for anyone unless he asks three times to come in, for God's sake.' Meanwhile the king returned home and discovered how he had been deceived. Accompanied by a single servant he set forth, and after a long journey he finally happened, one night, into the same forest where the queen was living, but he did not know that she was so close to him. 'There is a little light from a house back there,' said his servant. 'We can rest there.' 'No,' said the king. 'I do not want to rest so long, but rather to continue searching for my wife. I cannot rest until I find her.' But the servant begged so much and complained so about his weariness that out of compassion, the king gave in. When they came to the house, the moon was shining, and they saw the queen standing by the window. 'That must be our queen; she looks just like her,' said the servant, 'but I see now that she is not the one, for this one has hands.' The servant asked her for shelter, but she refused, because he had not asked 'for God's sake.' He was about to go on and seek another place for their night's lodging when the king himself came up and said, 'Let me in, for God's sake!' 'I cannot let you in until you have asked me three time, for God's sake,' she replied. And after the king had asked two more times, she opened the door. His little son ran to him and led him in to his mother. The king recognized her immediately as his beloved wife. The next morning they all journeyed together back to their kingdom, and as soon as they had left the house, it disappeared behind them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Girl without Hands (Grimm1857),"Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (1857)",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Das Mädchen ohne Hände,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales], 7th edition, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 31, pp. 162-68. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Das Mädchen ohne Hände,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales], 7th edition, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 31, pp. 162-68.","One day he had gone into the forest to gather wood, where he was approached by an old man, whom he had never seen before, and who said, 'Why do you torment yourself with chopping wood? I will make you rich if you will promise me that which is standing behind your mill.' 'What can that be but my apple tree?' thought the miller, said yes, and signed it over to the strange man. The latter, however, laughed mockingly and said, 'I will come in three years and get what belongs to me,' then went away. When he arrived home, his wife came up to him and said, 'Miller, tell me, where did all the wealth come from that is suddenly in our house? All at once all the chests and boxes are full, and no one brought it here, and I don't know where it came from.' He answered, 'It comes from an strange man whom I met in the woods and who promised me great treasures if I would but sign over to him that which stands behind the mill. We can give up the large apple tree for all this.' 'Oh, husband!' said the woman, terrified. 'That was the devil. He didn't mean the apple tree, but our daughter, who was just then standing behind the mill sweeping the yard.' The miller's daughter was a beautiful and pious girl, and she lived the three years worshipping God and without sin. When the time was up and the day came when the evil one was to get her, she washed herself clean and drew a circle around herself with chalk. The devil appeared very early in the morning, but he could not approach her. He spoke angrily to the miller, 'Keep water away from her, so she cannot wash herself any more. Otherwise I have no power over her.' The miller was frightened and did what he was told. The next morning the devil returned, but she had wept into her hands, and they were entirely clean. Thus he still could not approach her, and he spoke angrily to the miller, 'Chop off her hands. Otherwise I cannot get to her.' The miller was horrified and answered, 'How could I chop off my own child's hands!' Then the evil one threatened him, saying, 'If you do not do it, then you will be mine, and I will take you yourself.' This frightened the father, and he promised to obey him. Then he went to the girl and said, 'My child, if I do not chop off both of your hands, then the devil will take me away, and in my fear I have promised him to do this. Help me in my need, and forgive me of the evil that I am going to do to you.' She answered, 'Dear father, do with me what you will. I am your child,' and with that she stretched forth both hands and let her father chop them off. The devil came a third time, but she had wept so long and so much onto the stumps, that they were entirely clean. Then he had to give up, for he had lost all claim to her. The miller spoke to her, 'I have gained great wealth through you. I shall take care of you in splendor as long as you live.' But she answered, 'I cannot remain here. I will go away. Compassionate people will give me as much as I need.' Then she had her mutilated arms tied to her back, and at sunrise she set forth, walking the entire day until it was night. She came to a royal garden, and by the light of the moon she saw that inside there were trees full of beautiful fruit. But she could not get inside, for there it was surrounded by water. Having walked the entire day without eating a bite, she was suffering from hunger, and she thought, 'Oh, if only I were inside the garden so I could eat of those fruits. Otherwise I shall perish.' Then she kneeled down and, crying out to God the Lord, she prayed. Suddenly an angel appeared. He closed a head gate, so that the moat dried up, and she could walk through. She entered the garden, and the angel went with her. She saw a fruit tree with beautiful pears, but they had all been counted. She stepped up to the tree and ate from it with her mouth, enough to satisfy her hunger, but no more. The gardener saw it happen, but because the angel was standing by her he was afraid and thought that the girl was a spirit. He said nothing and did not dare to call out nor to speak to the spirit. After she had eaten the pear she was full, and she went and lay down in the brush. The king who owned this garden came the next morning. He counted the fruit and saw that one of the pears was missing. He asked the gardener what had happened to it. It was not lying under the tree, but had somehow disappeared. The gardener answered, 'Last night a spirit came here. It had no hands and ate one of the pears with its mouth.' The king said, 'How did the spirit get across the water? And where did it go after it had eaten the pear?' The gardener answered, 'Someone dressed in snow-white came from heaven and closed the head gate so the spirit could walk through the moat. Because it must have been an angel I was afraid, and I asked no questions, and I did not call out. After the spirit had eaten the pear it went away again.' The king said, 'If what you said is true, I will keep watch with you tonight.' After it was dark the king entered the garden, bringing a priest with him who was to talk to the spirit. All three sat down under the tree and kept watch. At midnight the girl came creeping out of the brush, stepped up to the tree, and again ate off a pear with her mouth. An angel dressed in white was standing next to her. The priest walked up to them and said, 'Have you come from God, or from the world? Are you a spirit or a human?' She answered, 'I am not a spirit, but a poor human who has been abandoned by everyone except God.' The king said, 'Even if you have been abandoned by the whole world, I will not abandon you.' He took her home with him to his royal castle, and because she was so beautiful and pure he loved her with all his heart, had silver hands made for her, and took her as his wife. After a year the king had to go out into the battlefield, and he left the young queen in the care of his mother, saying, 'If she has a child, support her and take good care of her, and immediately send me the news in a letter.' She gave birth to a beautiful son. The old mother quickly wrote this in a letter, giving the joyful news to the king. Now on the way the messenger stopped at a brook to rest. Tired from his long journey, he fell asleep. Then the devil came to him. He still wanted to harm the pious queen, and he took the letter, putting in its place one that stated that the queen had brought a changeling into the world. When the king read this letter he was frightened and saddened, but nevertheless he wrote an answer that they should take good care of the queen until his return. The messenger returned with this letter, but he rested at the same place, and again fell asleep. The devil came again and placed a different letter in his bag. This letter said that they should kill the queen with her child. The old mother was terribly frightened when she received this letter. She could not believe it, and wrote to the king again, but she got back the same answer, because each time the devil substituted a false letter. And the last letter even stated that they should keep the queen's tongue and eyes as proof. The old mother lamented that such innocent blood was to be shed, and in the night she had a doe killed, cut out its tongue and eyes, and had them put aside. Then she said to the queen, 'I cannot have you killed as the king has ordered, but you can no longer stay here. Go out into the wide world with your child, and never come back.' The old mother tied the queen's child onto her back, and the poor woman went away with weeping eyes. She came to a great, wild forest where she got onto her knees and prayed to God. Then the angel of the Lord appeared to her and led her to a small house. On it was a small sign with the words, 'Here anyone can live free.' A snow-white virgin came from the house and said, 'Welcome, Queen,' then led her inside. She untied the small boy from her back, held him to her breast so he could drink, and then laid him in a beautiful made-up bed. Then the poor woman said, 'How did you know that I am a queen?' The white virgin answered, 'I am an angel, sent by God to take care of you and your child.' She stayed in this house for seven years, and was well taken care of. And through the grace of God and her own piety her chopped-off hands grew back. The king finally came back home from the battlefield, and the first thing he wanted to do was to see his wife and their child. Then the old mother began to weep, saying, 'You wicked man, why did you write to me that I was to put two innocent souls to death,' and she showed him the two letters that the evil one had counterfeited. Then she continued to speak, 'I did what you ordered,' and showed him as proof the eyes and the tongue. Then the king began to weep even more bitterly for his poor wife and his little son, until the old woman had mercy and said to him, 'Be satisfied that she is still alive. I secretly had a doe killed and took the proofs from it. I tied your wife's child onto her back and told her to go out into the wide world, and she had to promise never to come back here, because you were so angry with her.' Then the king said, 'I will go as far as the sky is blue, and will neither eat nor drink until I have found my dear wife and my child again, provided that in the meantime they have not died or perished from hunger.' Then the king traveled about for nearly seven years, searching in all the stone cliffs and caves, but he did not find her, and he thought that she had perished. He neither ate nor drank during the entire time, but God kept him alive. Finally he came to a great forest, where he found a little house with a sign containing the words, ' Here anyone can live free.' The white virgin came out, took him by the hand, led him inside, and said, 'Welcome, King,' then asked him where he had come from. He answered, 'I have been traveling about for nearly seven years looking for my wife and her child, but I cannot find them.' The angel offered him something to eat and drink, but he did not take it, wanting only to rest a little. He lay down to sleep, covering his face with a cloth. Then the angel went into the room where the queen was sitting with her son, whom she normally called 'Filled-with-Grief.' The angel said to her, 'Go into the next room with your child. Your husband has come.' She went to where he was lying, and the cloth fell from his face. Then she said, 'Filled-with-Grief, pick up the cloth for your father and put it over his face again.' The child picked it up and put it over his face again. The king heard this in his sleep and let the cloth fall again. Then the little boy grew impatient and said, 'Mother, dear, how can I cover my father's face? I have no father in this world. I have learned to pray, 'Our father which art in heaven,' and you have said that my father is in heaven, and that he is our dear God. How can I know such a wild man? He is not my father.' Hearing this, the king arose and asked who she was. She said, 'I am your wife, and this is your son Filled-with-Grief.' He saw her living hands and said, 'My wife had silver hands.' She answered, 'Our merciful God has caused my natural hands to grow back.' The angel went into the other room, brought back the silver hands, and showed them to him. Now he saw for sure that it was his dear wife and his dear child, and he kissed them, and rejoiced, and said, 'A heavy stone has fallen from my heart.' Then the angel of God gave them all something to eat, and then they went back home to his old mother. There was great joy everywhere, and the king and the queen conducted their wedding ceremony once again, and they lived happily until their blessed end.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Girl without Hands (Jones),Hungary,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, Folk-Tales of the Magyars: Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), pp. 182-88. Source (Internet Archive): Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, Folk-Tales of the Magyars: Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), pp. 182-88.","The people of the house had supper prepared for the messenger, and during the meal the woman questioned him whether he thought her or her daughter to be the prettier, but the messenger did not like to state the exact truth, as he did not wish to appear ungrateful for their hospitality, and only said, 'Well, we can't deny but must confess it that we old people cannot be so handsome as the young ones.' The woman made no reply; but as soon as the messenger had left she gave her servant orders to take her daughter into the wood and kill her, and to bring her liver, lungs, and two hands back with him. The man servant took the pretty girl with him, and, having gone a good distance, he stopped, and told the girl of her mother's commands. 'But,' continued he, 'I haven't got the heart to kill you, as you have always been very kind to me; there is a small dog which has followed us, and I will take his liver and lungs back to your mother, but I shall be compelled to cut off your hands, as I can't go back without them.' The servant did as he proposed; he took out the small dog's lungs and liver, and cut off the girl's hands, much as it was against his wish. He carefully covered the stumps of her arms with a cloth, and sent the girl away and went back to his mistress. The woman took the lungs and liver, put them into her mouth, and said, 'You have come out of me, you must return into me,' and swallowed them. The two hands she threw up into the loft. The servant left the woman's house in a great hurry at the earliest opportunity, and never returned again. In the meantime the girl without hands wandered about in unknown places. Fearing that she would be discovered in the daytime, she hid herself in the wood, and only left her hiding place at night to find food, and if she chanced to get into an orchard she ate the fruit she could reach with her mouth. At last she came to the town where the king lived; the prince had by this time returned from the war. One morning, the king was looking out of his window, and to his great annoyance discovered that, again, there were less pears on a favourite tree in the orchard than he had counted the previous day. In a great rage he sent for the gardener, whose special business it was to take care of the orchard; but he excused himself on the ground that while he was watching the orchard at night an irresistible desire to sleep came over him, the like of which he had never experienced before, and which he was quite unable to shake off. The king, therefore, ordered another man to keep watch under the tree the next night, but he fared in the same way as the first; the king was still more angry. On the third night, the prince himself volunteered to keep watch, and promised to guard the fruit of the favourite tree; he laid down on the lawn under the tree, and did not shut his eyes. About midnight, the girl without hands came forth from a thicket in the garden, and, seeing the prince, said to him, 'One of your eyes is asleep, the other one must go to sleep too, at once.' No sooner had she uttered these words than the prince fell fast asleep, and the girl without hands walked under the tree, and picked the fruit with her mouth. But as there were only a few more pears left on the boughs which she could get at, she was obliged, in order to satisfy her hunger, to step on a little mound, and stand on tiptoe that she might reach the fruit; whilst standing in this position she slipped, and, having no hands to hold on with, she fell on the sleeping prince. The shock awoke the prince at once, and, grasping the girl firmly with his arms, he kept her fast. Next morning the king looking out of his window discovered to his astonishment that no pears were missing, and therefore sent a messenger into the garden to his son to inquire what had happened? As soon as dawn began to break, the prince saw the girl's beautiful face; the king's messenger had by this time reached the prince, who in reply to his query, said, 'Tell my father that I have caught the thief, and I will take care not to let her escape. If my father, the king, will not give me permission to marry her, I will never enter his house again; tell him also, that the girl has no hands.' The king did not oppose his son's desire, and the girl without hands became the prince's wife, and they lived happily together for a time. It happened, however, that war broke out again with the sovereign of the neighbouring country, and the prince was once more obliged to go with his army. While he was away the princess was confined, and bore two children with golden hair. The old king was highly delighted, and at once wrote to his son informing him of the happy event. The letter was again entrusted to the same man, who took the messages during the first war; he on his way remembered the house where he was so well received on a previous occasion, and arranged that he should spend the night there. This time he found the old woman only. He got into conversation with her, and she asked him where he was going, and what news he had from the royal town; the messenger told her how the prince had found a beautiful girl without hands, whom he had married, and who had had two beautiful children. The woman at once guessed that it was her own daughter, and that she had been deceived by her servant; she gave her guest plenty to eat and drink, till he was quite drunk and went to sleep. Whereupon the woman searched the messenger's bag, found the king's letter, opened it and read it. The gist of the letter was this, 'My dear son, you have brought to my house a dear and beautiful wife, who has borne you a beautiful golden-haired child.' The woman instantly wrote another letter, which ran thus: 'You have brought to my house a prostitute, who has brought shame upon you, for she has been confined of two puppies.' She folded the letter, sealed it as the first had been, and put it into the messenger's bag. Next morning the messenger left, having first been invited to spend the night at her house on his return, as the wicked mother was anxious to know what the prince's answer would be to the forged letter. The messenger reached the prince, handed him the letter, which gave him inexpressible grief; but as he was very fond of his wife he only replied, that, whatever the state of affairs might be, no harm was to happen to his wife until his return. The messenger took the letter back and again called upon the old woman, who .was not chary to make him drunk again and to read the reply clandestinely. She was angry at the prince's answer, and wrote another letter in his name, in which she said, that if matters were as they had been represented to him in the letter, his wife must get out of the house without delay, so that he might not see her upon his return. The messenger, not suspecting anything, handed the letter to the king, who was very much upset, and read it to his daughter-in-law. The old king pitied his pretty and good natured daughter deeply, but what could he do? They saddled a quiet horse, put the two golden-haired princes in a basket and tied it in front of the princess; and thus the poor woman was sent away amidst great lamentations. She had been travelling without ceasing for three days, till on the third day she came into a country where she found a lake full of magic water, which had the power of reviving and making good the maimed limbs of any crippled man or beast who bathed in it. So the woman without hands took a bath in the lake, and both her hands were restored. She washed her children's clothes in the same lake, and again continued her journey. Not long after this the war with the neighbouring king was over, and the prince returned home. On hearing what had happened to his wife he fell into a state of deep grief, and became so ill that his death was expected daily. After a long illness, however, his health began to improve, but only very slowly, and years elapsed before his illness and his great grief had so far been conquered that he had strength or inclination to go out. At last he tried hunting, and spent whole days in the forest. One day as he was thus engaged he followed a stag, and got deeper and deeper into the thick part of the wood; in the meantime the sun had set and darkness set in. The prince, having gone too far, could not find his way back. But as good luck would have it he saw a small cottage, and started in its direction to find a night's lodging. He entered, and found a woman with two children -- his wife and two sons. The woman at once recognised the prince, who, however, did not even suspect her to be his wife, because her hands were grown again; but, at the same time, the great likeness struck him very much, and at first sight he felt a great liking for the woman. On the next day he again went out hunting with his only faithful servant, and purposely allowed darkness to set in so that he might sleep at the cottage. The prince felt very tired and laid down to sleep, while his wife sat at the table sewing, and the two little children played by her side. It happened that in his sleep the prince dropped his arm out of bed. One of the children noticing this called his mother's attention to it, whereupon the woman said to her son, 'Place it back, my son, place it back, it's the hand of your royal father.' The child approached the sleeping prince and gently lifted his arm back again. After a short time the prince dropped his leg from the bed while asleep; the child again told his mother of it, and she said, 'Place it back, my son, pnt it back, it's your father's leg.' The boy did as he was told, but the prince knew nothing of it. It happened, however, that the prince's faithful servant was awake and heard every word the woman said to the child, and told the story to his master the next day. The prince was astonished, and no longer doubted that the woman was his wife, no matter how she had recovered her hands. So the next day he again went out hunting, and, according to arrangement, stayed late in the wood and had to return to the cottage again. The prince, having gone to bed, feigned sleep, and dropped his arm over the bed. His wife, seeing this, again said, ' Put it back, my son, put it back, it's your royal father's arm.' Afterwards he dropped his other arm, and then his two legs purposely; and the woman in each case bade her son put them back, in the same words. At last he let his head hang over the bedside, and his wife said to her son, 'Lift it back, my son, lift it back; it's your royal father's head.' But the little fellow, getting tired of all this, replied, 'I shan't do it; you better do it yourself this time, mother.' 'Lift it back, my son,' again said the mother, coaxingly; but the boy would not obey, whereupon the woman herself went to the bed, in order to lift the prince's head. But no sooner had she touched him than her husband caught hold of her with both his hands, and embraced her. ''Why did you leave me?' said he, in a reproachful tone. 'How could I help leaving you,' answered his wife, 'when you ordered me out of your house?' 'I wrote in the letter,' said the prince, 'this and this;' and told her what he had really written; and his wife explained to him what had been read to her from the letter that had been changed. The fraud was thus discovered, and the prince was glad beyond everything that he had found his wife and her two beautiful children. He at once had all three taken back to the palace, where a second wedding was celebrated, and a great festival held. Guests were invited from the 77th country, and came to the feast. Through the letter-carrying messenger it became known that the cause of all the mischief was no one else than the princess's envious mother. But the prince forgave her all at the urgent request of his wife; and the young couple lived for a great many years in matrimonial bliss, their family increasing greatly. At the old king's death the whole realm fell to the happy couple, who are still alive, if they have not died since.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Girl without Hands (Schneller),Italy / Austria,"This story is from South Tyrol, an alpine region in northern Italy but with historical and cultural ties to Austria.","Source (books.google.com): Christian Schneller, 'Das Mädchen ohne Hände, Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 50, pp. 137-43. Source (Internet Archive): Christian Schneller, 'Das Mädchen ohne Hände, Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 50, pp. 137-43.","Once upon a time there was a woman innkeeper who had a daughter. Whenever guests came there they said, 'The innkeeper is in truth the most beautiful woman in all the land.' But when they saw her daughter they could not take their eyes from her, and they said, 'The innkeeper is beautiful, but her daughter is much more beautiful.' The innkeeper was proud of her beauty and would liked to have been the most beautiful. It made her ill to hear people say that her daughter was more beautiful than she was. Every day the girl became more and more beautiful until the mother could no longer contain her envy and anger. She hired a man and ordered him to take the girl into the mountains and kill her. As proof he was to bring back her heart. The man took the girl into the mountains and told her what the mother had demanded. The girl wept bitterly, fell to her knees, and begged him to spare her young life. The man was moved and spared her life on the condition that she would go away into foreign lands and never again return home. He brought back a dog's heart to the innkeeper. Sadly the girl went into the wide world, arriving finally in a city where she remained for some time as a servant girl. However, she was always sad, thinking constantly about her homeland and her wicked mother. She could not believe that her mother could be so cruel, and said to herself, 'For sure she is filled with regret and now weeps sorrowfully and silently because of my presumed death.' Finally she no longer could withstand her longing, and she set forth for her homeland. Her mother received her with angry surprise. The proud woman summoned the man once again and reproved him for his previous disobedience. Once again she told him to take the girl into the mountains and kill her. This time he was to bring back her chopped off hands as proof of her death. The man took the girl into the mountains, and she again fell to her knees and begged him to spare her life. The man was indeed moved, but he feared the innkeeper's anger. 'What can I do?' he said. 'Your mother has demanded that I bring her your hands. I have to obey her.' The girl looked painfully toward heaven and said, 'I would sooner lose my hands than my life. Chop off my hands, but spare my life!' She laid her hands onto a tree stump, and the horrible thing happened. The man helped her to bind up her bleeding arms, than told her to go far away, making her swear that she never again would return home. In unspeakable pain the girl went far into the dark woods. She prayed that God might heal her and protect her, and her prayer was not in vain. Soon her wounds began to heal, and she found nourishment from herbs, roots, and fruits of the forest. The wild animals did not threaten her life. At first she lived in a cave, but then she found an old willow tree with a rotten inside. With great difficulty and stress she hollowed it out. Here she was better protected against heat, cold, and wild animals. When her wounds pained her, and she despaired over what might become of her, she prayed and wept, and her prayers and tears comforted her. An inner voice cried out to her, 'God will not forsake you!' Even the poorest and the most miserable individual who listens to and believes in such a voice will find comfort. One day it happened that the king's son from a somewhat distant city who was hunting in these mountains became separated from his companions. Wandering alone through the woods he suddenly caught sight of the beautiful maiden. At first he thought it was a beautiful, strange animal. Wanting to capture it alive, he did not shoot an arrow at it. When she saw him, she ran away like a deer. He chased after her and saw that she fled into the hollow willow tree. He approached it and commanded her to step outside. To his surprise he saw a beautiful maiden with chopped off hands standing before him. 'Who are you, my child, and why are you here? Who cut off your hands?' She wept and said nothing. Falling in love with her, he said, 'I see that you must have fallen into the hands of wicked people. I will rescue you. Now you shall experience better days. Come with me into the city.' Then he blew into his hunting horn, and it sounded through the woods, echoing from the cliffs. Not long afterward his companions and servants approached. They fashioned a litter. The prince lifted the maiden onto it and covered her with his cloak. After arriving at the palace in the city he had rooms made ready for her, then provided her with servants and costly clothing and took care of her in the best possible manner. One day he went to her and asked her if she did not want to become his wife. She blushed and said, 'That cannot be.' Sadly, he asked her why. 'How can I, a poor girl without hands become your wife?' she replied. 'What would your mother say?' 'Don't worry about that,' he said. 'I am my own master and follow my heart's voice, which tells me that you will make me happy. I love you truly and sincerely, even if you cannot love me.' Hearing these words, her face turned fire-red and her heart beat loudly. She dropped to her knees before him and covered his hands with kisses and hot tears. 'You are now my bride before God and before the people,' he cried with joy. Lifting her up he pressed a kiss onto her pure white forehead. The he went to his mother and explained to her that he wanted to marry the maiden. The mother was a proud woman and for a long time had secretly assumed that her son would marry the world's most beautiful and wealthiest princess. Therefore the prince's proposal made her exceedingly angry. 'Are you out of your mind?' she shouted at him. 'You want to make a vagabond low-class girl without hands into my daughter-in-law and the people's queen?' But the prince remained steadfast. He forced his mother to tame, or at least to hide her anger, and he wed the maiden. The people did not complain; to the contrary, they loved the young queen more and more, for in a short time she did more for them without hands than the old queen had done for them in her entire lifetime with her healthy hands. The couple's happiness lasted only a few months, for war broke out, and the prince had to go to battle with his army. He ordered all his servants to care for his wife and to assure that no harm would come to her. Then he fondly bad her farewell and departed with his army. More months passed by, and the young queen gave birth to two beautiful boys. The old queen was beside herself with anger and would have pulled the children away from her, but the servants, true to their master, kept watch over the young queen and her children, not leaving them alone for even a moment. The old queen sent a trusted messenger to the prince with the claim that his wife had given birth to two children that looked like dogs. The people were revolting, and he therefore should order what was to be done. She believed that her son would give the order to have the young mother and her children killed, but she was wrong. The prince ordered that no one should do anything to his wife or the children until after he had returned home. This angered the old queen all the more, and she sent the same messenger to the prince with the claim that the people were threatening a revolution, and that she therefore saw no other remedy but to publicly burn to death the young mother and her children. And she would have had this done, but the young queen discovered her plan in time. In the middle of the night she took both children into her arms and secretly fled from the palace and from the city. 'God will not abandon me and my poor little ones!' she thought as she went on her way. She walked until she came to a valley in a forest wilderness. Then two honorable men approached her and asked, 'Have these children been baptized?' 'No,' she replied and then told them of her escape and of her difficulties. Then the one man said, 'I'll baptize the children. What names shall I give them?' 'Whatever ones you like,' she said. 'Good,' replied the man. 'The one shall be named Johannes and the other one Joseph.' And he baptized them with the water from the river that flowed through the valley. The two men were none other than Saint Johannes and Saint Joseph themselves. Then the first man said, 'Take your children to the far edge of the valley. There you will find a lovely house supplied with everything that you need for yourself and your children. Do not leave the house, and do not open the door for anyone unless he addresses you by the five wounds of our savior.' Relieved, she promised this, thanked he men graciously, and went on her way. She than came upon a beautiful woman who looked at her kindly and said, 'My poor woman, you have no hands.' The young mother wept. The beautiful woman was none other than Saint Mary, and she said, 'Stick your arms into the water of this river.' She did this, and when she pulled her arms out, she once again had her healthy hands. Weeping with joy she thanked heavenly woman, who then said to her in parting, 'Go to that house and faithfully heed what the two saints have told you. Then things will go well for you and your children, for you have always been pious and in your need have trusted in heaven. With a joyful heart she went on her way and found the promised house. There they remained by themselves, for no other human soul was to be found near and far. There she had everything that she needed. The two boys grew and were soon running cheerfully around in the woods. The mother kept her promise, and they were pious and good, praying morning and evening to God that he would bless and protect them. Six years passed. Meanwhile the prince had returned from the wars and had become king. He was always sad, for he often thought about his wife and his children, who he assumed were dead. He had banned his mother from the court. One time he went hunting and lost his way in the woods. Night was approaching and it had begun to storm. Without success he sought shelter beneath the old trees; the wind whipped rain into his face, it thundered without pause, and lightning lit up the entire area. Then he saw the house where his wife and children were living. He knocked on the door, but no one opened it for him. The weather became more and more angry, and lighting struck once again. In great fear he cried out, 'By the five wounds of our savior, open the door!' Hearing these words, the queen opened the door and let him enter. 'Give me shelter for the night,' he cried out. 'I am dead tired and soaked through.' She recognized him immediately. He too thought that this was he wife, and he wanted to cry out with joy, but the sight of her hands told him that he was mistaken, for his wife had no hands. She controlled herself and did not tell him who she was. She led him to the hearth, stirred up the flames, and brought food and drink to him. At first two children did not dare look at the strange man, for until now they had never seen a human being, except for their mother. Finally, encouraged by their mother they shyly approached the stranger, then, snuggled against their mother's arms, they stared at him with wide-open eyes, and he looked back with kindness. With tears in his eyes he thought, 'My children would be just this age, if they were still alive.' The king sat by the fire and dried his clothes. Then sleep overcame him, and he closed his eyes. Seeing that he was asleep, she told her children that this man was their father. Therefore, when he awoke, they should be very friendly toward him. Then it happened that the sleeping king's hat fell off his head to the floor. 'Johannes,' said the mother, 'pick up your father's hat.' The boy obeyed. The king was half awake and heard what was said. 'What is this?' he thought to himself. 'I'll pretend to be asleep and let my hat fall again.' A little later the hat fell to the floor again. 'Joseph,' said the mother, 'pick up your father's hat.' Hearing this, the king got up and said, 'Woman, why do you call me father?' She smiled and said, 'Look at me closely!' He broke out in tears and said, 'Yes, you look like dear wife, but it is not possible that you are she, for my dear wife had no hands.' She cried out, 'But it is possible, my beloved husband. God has given me back my hands, and these boys are your children. Then they embraced one another until their hearts almost broke for joy. He took the two boys into his arms and could not stop looking at them and kissing them; all the while tears of joy were running down his cheeks. They stayed together the entire night, telling each other what had happened to them. The next morning he wanted to take her and the boys to the city, but she said, 'My dear husband, the saints have commanded that I remain here forever, and I must obey them.' He did not object, but kissed her and the boys in parting, and said, 'I'll come back to you soon.' He returned to the city. There he gave up the crown and the kingship, sold all of his belongings, chose the most faithful of his servants, then returned to his wife and his children. They lived together many long years in that beautiful, peaceful mountain valley. They enjoyed in the largest measure that happiness which mankind can only achieve through sacred peace of mind.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Girl without Legs,Somalia,"Kirk's source: 'Mohammed Jibril, Habr Toljaala, Musa Abokr, clerk, aged about 26.'","Source (books.google.com): J. W. C. Kirk, 'Specimens of Somali Tales,' Folk-Lore: Transactions of the Folk-Lore Society, a Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Institution, and Custom, vol. 15 (1904), no. 3, pp. 319-21. Source (Internet Archive): J. W. C. Kirk, 'Specimens of Somali Tales,' Folk-Lore: Transactions of the Folk-Lore Society, a Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Institution, and Custom, vol. 15 (1904), no. 3, pp. 319-21.","A Sultan had a daughter, and the daughter used to be taught the Koran. One day the Sultan went on a pilgrimage, and entrusted his daughter to a priest and said, 'Continue to teach that girl the Koran.' The priest coveted the girl, wishing to lie with her, but the girl refused. One day she said, 'Come to me tomorrow.' On the day arranged she removed from the house the ladder by which the priest used to ascend. He then sent a letter to her father, and he wrote, 'Your daughter has become a whore.' The Sultan returned from the pilgrimage, and he was angry with the girl, and he handed her over to some slaves, and he said, 'Cut that girl's throat.' Then the slaves took the girl, and brought her to a wooded place, and they cut off her legs while they dug her grave. While they were digging the grave she crawled away, and went into some trees and hid. When the slaves had dug the grave, they looked in the place where she had lain and could not find her. Then they slew a gazelle, and the gazelle's blood they poured into a bottle, and brought the blood to the Sultan and said, 'We have slain the girl.' One day later a caravan passed by the place and camped where the girl lay. In the afternoon as the party were loading up the camels, they saw the girl sitting under a tree. A man took the girl, and put her on a camel, and brought her to the town they came to. The man who took the girl put her to live in a house. Later on the son of the Sultan saw the girl's face, and the young man saw that her face was beautiful, and he said to the man whose house she dwelt in, 'Let me marry that girl from you.' And the man said, 'The girl has no legs.' Then the Sultan's son said, 'I will marry her, give her to me.' And so the man said, 'Well and good.' And the Sultan's son married her. She bore two children, and while she was with child the young man said, 'I am going on a pilgrimage.' And he left her a ram, and went on the pilgrimage. While he was away on the pilgrimage his wife had a dream, and she dreamed that two birds sat upon her two legs, and her legs had grown out, and that she made the pilgrimage. In the morning at break of day she saw the two birds sitting upon her two legs, and the legs had grown out. After daylight she took her two children and the ram and the two birds and went on the pilgrimage. She came to a building at the half way, and there came to her her father and her brother and the priest and her husband, none of whom knew her. She told stories to her children, and she related all that had happened to her, and her father heard and the priest. Then the priest tried to run away, but the Sultan said, 'Sit down until the story is finished.' Then the Sultan, the girl's father, cut the priest's throat, and the girl and her father and husband they went on together and made the pilgrimage. And so the girl and her father were reconciled.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Innkeeper's Beautiful Daughter,Italy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Laura Gonzenbach, 'Von der schönen Wirthstochter,' Sizilianische Märchen: Aus dem Volksmund gesammelt, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1870), no. 24, pp. 148-53. Source (Internet Archive): Laura Gonzenbach, 'Von der schönen Wirthstochter,' Sizilianische Märchen: Aus dem Volksmund gesammelt , vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1870), no. 24, pp. 148-53.","Once upon a time there was a woman who had an inn where she provided shelter to travelers. She had a daughter who was so beautiful that one could not imagine anyone more beautiful. The mother could not stand her, precisely because she was so beautiful, and always kept her locked up in a room so no one could see her. The only person who knew about her was the maid who brought food to her every day. One day it happened that the king wanted to spend the night at the inn. He arrived just as the maid was bringing food to the girl. Someone called the maid, and she forgot to close the door behind her. Noticing this, the innkeeper's daughter became curious and wanted to see the king. She stepped into the doorway, but when the king walked down the hall she quickly stepped back into the room. However, he saw her, and was completely blinded with her beauty. 'Where is the beautiful girl whom I saw in the hallway?' he asked the maid who was serving him. 'Oh, your majesty,' she answered, 'that is the innkeeper's daughter, and she is just as good as she is beautiful. But her mother keeps he locked up so that no one can see her.' The king was so enchanted with her beauty that he wanted to marry her. Because he could not ask the mother for her hand, he called for the maid and said, 'I shall remain here for a few days. Go to the daughter and ask her if she will be my wife.' The maid went to the girl and said, 'Just think, miss, the king wants to marry you, and he wants to know if you will flee with him and escape from this house where you are treated so badly.' 'Oh,' answered the poor girl, 'how would I be able to flee? My mother keeps such a strict watch over me.' 'Just leave it to me,' answered the faithful maid. She then went to the king and said, 'I know what you can do. Leave here tomorrow, as though you were returning to your home. Stop somewhere nearby. The girl will pretend to be sick, and I'll tell her mother that it is because she is always locked indoors. If she will let her go outside then I'll bring her to you. Take me with you, because I'll not be able to return without the girl.' The king promised to do this, and the next day the king pretended to leave. However, he went only a short distance, then stopped at another inn, but without letting it be known that he was the king. The innkeeper's daughter pretended to be sick and refused to eat anything, losing more and more weight. 'Just what does the girl have that makes her so ill?' asked the mother. 'Of course the poor child is sick,' answered the maid. She is always kept inside never gets any fresh air. Tomorrow let her go to the fair with me. Those few steps will bring her back to health.' The mother agreed to this, and the next morning the maid and the daughter left for the fair. They were scarcely out of the mother's view when they rushed to the king, whose carriage was ready to go. He lifted the beautiful girl inside, and they rode away. He gave the faithful maid so much money that she was able to move to a different country with her entire family. The king arrived at his castle and introduced his fiancée to his mother. 'This is my dear fiancée,' he said, 'and now we want to have a splendid wedding.' The girl was so beautiful that the old queen accepted her immediately. There was a splendid wedding, and the king and his young wife lived together happily and contentedly. Nearly a year had passed when war broke out, and the king had to go off to battle. He said to the old queen, 'Mother, dear, I must go away. I entrust my dear wife to you. If she should have a baby, let me know immediately, and take good care of it.' With that he embraced his mother and his wife, and departed. Not long afterward the young queen gave birth to her first son, and the old queen took good care of her. She immediately wrote a letter to the king telling him of the birth of his son. The messenger carrying the letter to the king stopped to rest at the inn owned by the young queen's mother. Upon arriving there he ordered something to eat, and while he was eating, the innkeeper asked him where he was from and where he was going. He explained how he had been sent to report to the king the happy birth of his son. Hearing this, the innkeeper resolved to take revenge against her daughter for having escaped. The messenger lay down and fell asleep, whereupon the innkeeper took the letter from his pocket and replaced it with a different one, claiming that the young queen had been guilty of the worst infidelity and deserved the strictest punishment. This was the letter that the messenger brought to the king. This letter saddened the king greatly because he was so in love with his wife. Nonetheless, he wrote to the old queen that she should take good care of his wife and do nothing until he had returned. The messenger departed with this letter. Arriving at the inn, he once again ordered something to eat. The innkeeper asked if the king had sent a response with him. 'Yes,' he answered, 'the letter is in my pocket.' The messenger once again fell asleep after eating, and the innkeeper replaced the king's letter with a different one, wherein it was written that the young queen's hands should be chopped off, the child should be tied to her maimed arms, and that the two of them should be thus exiled into the wide world. After receiving this letter the old queen cried bitterly, for she dearly loved her daughter-in-law. However, the young queen meekly said, 'I shall do whatever my lord and husband commands!' With that she had her own hands chopped off. The child was then tied to her arms so that she could nurse it. She then embraced the old queen and wandered away, far away into a dark forest. After wandering a great while she came to a little brook. Because she was very tired she sat down. 'Oh,' she thought, 'if only I had my hands I would not be so helpless. Then I could wash out my child's diaper and dress him with clean clothes. As it is, my innocent child shall soon die.' As she thus spoke and wept, an old and distinguished man suddenly appeared before her and asked why she was crying. She told him of her sorrow and how she innocently had been inflicted with such severe punishment. 'Don't cry,' said the old man. 'Come with me, and all will go well with you.' He led her a little further into the woods, then he struck the ground with his staff, and suddenly a castle appeared, much grander than the king's castle. A garden was there as well, and the king himself did not have a better one. The old man was Saint Joseph, and he had come to the aid of the innocent young queen. The young queen and her child lived with Saint Joseph in the beautiful castle, and because she was so good, Saint Joseph caused her hands to grow back. The child grew large and strong, and every day became more beautiful. But now we shall leave the queen and see what is happening with the king. The war ended, and the king sorrowfully returned to his castle. His wife's infidelity broke his heart. 'What have you done with my wife?' he asked his mother. 'Oh, you wicked man,' answered the queen, weeping, 'how could you cause your innocent wife to suffer so greatly?' 'What!' he cried. 'Did you not write to me that she was guilty of great infidelity.' 'You say that I wrote that to you?' said the queen. 'I reported the happy birth of your son, and you replied that I should have her hands chopped off and exiled into the wide world with her child.' 'I wrote no such thing!' cried the king. Then the two of them brought forth the letters, and said that they had not written them. 'Oh, my dear innocent child!' sobbed the old queen. 'Now you are surely dead!' Great sadness fell over the castle, and the king was so miserable that he turned seriously ill. He finally recovered but remained wretchedly unhappy. One day the old queen said to him, 'My son, the weather is beautiful, why don't you go hunting? Perhaps it will distract you.' So the king mounted his horse and sadly rode into the woods, but without hunting. Because of his grief he did not pay attention to where he was going, and soon found himself lost in the dense forest. His attendants did not dare to say anything to him. As it was growing dark the king wanted to turn back, but no one knew the right way, so they blundered ever deeper into the woods. Finally they saw a light in the distance, and following it they came to the beautiful castle where the young queen was living. They knocked, and Saint Joseph opened the door and asked what they wanted. 'Oh, my good old man,' answered the king. 'Could you give us shelter for the night? We are lost and cannot find our way back home.' Saint Joseph invited them in, fed them, and offered them good beds. However, the young queen and her son did not show themselves. The next morning, while the king was at breakfast, Saint Joseph went to the young queen and said, 'The king has spent the night here. Now is the moment when your sorrows shall cease.' The queen dressed her son in his best clothes, and Saint Joseph had him go to the king, kiss his hand, and say, 'Good morning, papa, I would like to eat breakfast with you.' Seeing the beautiful child, the king was very moved, but did not know why. Then the door opened and the young queen entered with Saint Joseph. She bowed before the king. He recognized his beloved wife and embraced her and his little son. Saint Joseph approached them, saying, 'All your sorrows are now at an end. Live happily and contentedly, and if ever you have a wish, just call on me, for I am Saint Joseph.' With that he blessed them and disappeared. The castle disappeared at the same time, leaving the king, the queen, their son and the attendants all standing in the woods. Before them they saw the pathway that led out of the woods and back to their castle. They came to the old queen who was happy from the bottom of her heart to see once again her beloved daughter-in-law and her little grandson. Then all together they lived happily and contentedly, but we, we went away with nothing.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,The Sun and the Moon,Eskimo,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Henry Rink, Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo, with a Sketch of Their Habbits, Religion, Language, and Other Peculiarities, translated from the Danish by the author; edited by Robert Brown (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1875), no. 35, pp. 236-37. Source (Internet Archive): Henry Rink, Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo, with a Sketch of Their Habbits, Religion, Language, and Other Peculiarities, translated from the Danish by the author; edited by Robert Brown (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1875), no. 35, pp. 236-37.","[This tale, one of the few already mentioned by other authors on Greenland, has been translated from one of the oldest manuscripts.] An old married couple remained at home while their children travelled about all the summer. One day the wife was left alone as usual while the husband was out kayaking. On hearing something moving about close by, she hastened to hide beneath her coverlet, and after a little while, when she ventured to peep above it, she saw a little snow-bunting (Plectrophanes nivalis) hopping about on the floor and chirping, 'Another one will soon enter, who is going to tell thee something.' In a little while she was alarmed by a still greater noise ; and looking up again, she beheld a kusagtak (another little bird -- the wheat-ear -- Saxicola ænanthe), likewise hopping on the floor and singing, 'Somebody shall soon enter and tell thee something.' It left the room, and was soon followed by a raven; but soon after it had gone she heard a sound like the steps of people, and this time she saw a very beautiful woman, who entered. On asking whence she came, the stranger told: In bygone days we often used to assemble in my home to divert ourselves at different plays and games, and in the evening, when it was all ended, the young girls generally remained out, and the young men used to pursue and court us; but we could never manage to recognise them in the dark. One night I was curious to know the one who had chosen me, and so I went and daubed my hands with soot before I joined the others. When our play had come to an end, I drew my hands along his back, and left him, and was the first who entered the house. The young people came in, one after another undressed, but for some time I observed no marks. Last of all my brother entered, and I saw at once that the back of his white jacket was all besmeared with soot. I took a knife, and sharpened it, and proceeded to cut off my two breasts, and gave him them, saying, 'Since my body seems to please thee, pray take these and eat them.' He now began to speak indecently to me, and courted me more than ever, and while we raced about the room he caught hold of some bad moss and lit it, but I took some that was good, and also lit mine. He ran out, and I ran after him; but suddenly I felt that we were lifted up, and soared high up in the air. When we got more aloft my brother's light was extinguished, but mine remained burning, and I had become a sun. Now I am on my way higher up the skies, that I may give warmth to the orphans (viz., going to make summer). Finally she said, 'Now close thy eyes.' The woman turned her eyes downwards; but perceiving that she was about to leave the house, she gave her one look, and observed that at her back she was a mere skeleton. Soon after she had left the house the old husband returned. Note: Among the rare cases which we have of any Eskimo tradition from the west about Behring Straits, the above legend is reported as known at Point Barrow, and was communicated to John Simpson, surgeon on board the Plover. In this the sister says to the brother, 'Ta-man' g-ma mam-mang-mang-an' g-ma nigh'-e-ro,' which corresponds to the Greenlandish tamarma mamarmat âma neriuk, 'My whole person being delicious, eat this also' -- almost the same words as in one of the copies from Greenland.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
706,William of the Tree,Ireland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Douglas Hyde, Beside the Fire: A Collection of Irish Gaelic Folk Stories (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 167-69. Source (Internet Archive): Douglas Hyde, Beside the Fire: A Collection of Irish Gaelic Folk Stories (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 167-69.","In the time long ago there was a king in Erin. He was married to a beautiful queen, and they had but one only daughter. The queen was struck with sickness, and she knew that she would not be long alive. She put the king under gassa (mystical injunctions) that he should not marry again until the grass should be a foot high over her tomb. The daughter was cunning, and she used to go out every night with a scissors, and she used to cut the grass down to the ground. The king had a great desire to have another wife, and he did not know why the grass was not growing over the grave of the queen. He said to himself: 'There is some. body deceiving me.' That night he went to the churchyard, and he saw the daughter cutting the grass that was on the grave. There came great anger on him then, and he said: 'I will marry the first woman I see, let she be old or young.' When he went out on the road he saw an old hag. He brought her home and married her, as he would not break his word. After marrying her, the daughter of the king was under bitter misery at (the hands of) the hag, and the hag put her under an oath not to tell anything at all to the king, and not to tell to any person anything she should see being done, except only to three who were never baptised. The next morning on the morrow, the king went out a hunting, and when he was gone, the hag killed a fine hound the king had. When the king came home he asked the old hag 'who killed my hound!' 'Your daughter killed it,' says the old woman. 'Why did you kill my hound?' said the king. 'I did not kill your hound,' says the daughter, 'and I cannot tell you who killed him.' 'I will make you tell me,' says the king. He took the daughter with him to a great wood, and he hanged her on a tree, and then he cut off the two hands and the two feet off her, and left her in a state of death. When he was going out of the wood there went a thorn into his foot, and the daughter said: 'That you may never get better until I have hands and feet to cure you.' The king went home, and there grew a tree out of his foot, and it was necessary for him to open the window, to let the top of the tree out. There was a gentleman going by near the wood, and he heard the king's daughter a-screeching. He went to the tree, and when he saw the state she was in, he took pity on her, brought her home, and when she got better, married her. At the end of three quarters (of a year), the king's daughter had three sons at one birth, and when they were born, Granya Öi came and put hands and feet on the king's daughter, and told her, 'Don't let your children be baptised until they are able to walk. There is a tree growing out of your father's foot; it was cut often, but it grows again, and it is with you lies his healing. You are under an oath not to tell the things you saw your stepmother doing to anyone but to three who were never baptised, and God has sent you those three. When they will be a year old bring them to your father's house, and tell your story before your three sons, and rub your hand on the stump of the tree, and your father will be as well as he was the first day.' There was great wonderment on the gentleman when he saw hands and feet on the king's daughter. She told him then every word that Granya Öi said to her. When the children were a year old, the mother took them with her, and went to the king's house. There were doctors from every place in Erin attending on the king, but they were not able to do him any good. When the daughter came in, the king did not recognise her. She sat down, and the three sons round her, and she told her story to them from top to bottom, and the king was listening to her telling it. Then she left her hand on the sole of the king's foot and the tree fell off it. The day on the morrow he hanged the old hag, and he gave his estate to his daughter and to the gentleman.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
332,"Dr. Urssenbeck, Physician of Death",Austria,NA,"Abstracted from J. W. Holczabek and A. Winter, 'Gevatter Tod,' Sagen und Geschichten der Stadt Wien, vol. 1 (Vienna: Verlag von Carl Graeser, 1886), no. 7, pp. 43-48.","The city of Vienna has always been distinguished for its famous physicians. Around the year 1482 one such well-known physician was Dr. Paul Urssenbeck, Rector of the University. His fame came from his ability to predict with certainty whether a patient would recover his or her health or would die. He thus became known as the doctor of death. The following story is told as to how he achieved this remarkable gift: In his earlier years he followed the trade of a poor but honest weaver in the town of Deckendorf near Straudigen in Bavaria. It was a time of famine, and he, his wife, and their eleven children were in great need. Then a twelfth child was born, and they could find no one to serve as its godparent. As a last chance, the poor weaver walked to a nearby village and asked an old friend to serve as godfather, but met only rejection. Disappointed and frustrated the poor man made his back to his family. While walking sorrowfully through the dense forest toward his home, he said: 'If I only could die.' Suddenly a tall figure dressed in a dark cloak appeared before him, saying: 'You called me. I am Death. What can I do for you?' As much as the man had previously wanted to die, he now wanted to live. 'I am seeking a godfather for my youngest child. But I cannot find anyone who will serve as his godparent,' answered the weaver sadly. 'I will accept this responsibility,' said Death. And thus it happened. Following the baptism the mysterious godfather took the father aside and said: 'Since I possess neither gold nor silver to give to your child as a baptism present, I will make you into the most famous doctor of all times. Whenever you are called to a sick person, I -- invisible to others -- will seat myself either to the head or to the feet of the patient. If I am seated at the head, then this will show you that hope for recovery exists. If I am seated at the feet, then the patient will die. Through this gift the weaver was able to cure many illnesses, for he knew whether the patient who had sought his treatment would be helped by medications, or whether he would die. Soon the previously poor weaver became a wealthy and respected physician. However, his increased wealth made him ever-more greedy One day a very wealthy man fell seriously ill, but when Dr. Urssenbeck was called in, and he saw that Death was already seated at the patient's feet. Upon hearing the diagnosis, the next of kin could not be comforted, and they offered the physician a fortune if he could heal the prince. Then Urssenbeck resorted to trickery. He quickly had the patient's bed turned around, so that Death was now seated at his head. Thus the man was rescued from Death, and he regained his health. On the physician's way home Death suddenly appeared before him. 'You unfortunate one, why have you deceived me? In return for the life that you have given back to the rich man, you yourself must now die' spoke the reaper with a threatening voice, and disappeared. Dr. Urssenbeck suddenly found himself in a large room where thousands of candles were burning. Death said to him, 'Each of these candles represents someone's life. This tiny stump that is about to go out is yours.' Terrified, Dr. Urssenbeck reached for a taller candle, wanting to take some wax from it to replenish his stump, but in so doing he touched his own candle, and it went out, and he fell to the floor dead. That evening his body was found in a ravine. He was buried in the graveyard of Saint Stephen's Cathedral. Sagen und Geschichten der Stadt Wien, vol. 1 (Vienna: Verlag von Carl Graeser, 1886), no. 7, pp. 43-48.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
332,Godfather Death,Germany,"The Grimms altered this tale somewhat in later editions. Link to the German text of the 1857 edition Der Gevatter Tod. Link to an English translation of the 1857 version Godfather Death. The Grimms included another tale of type 332 in their Children's and Household Tales, 'The Godfather' (no. 42). Link to the German text Der Herr Gevatter. Link to an English translation The Godfather. Link to the German text Der Herr Gevatter. Link to an English translation The Godfather.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Gevatter Tod,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812), no. 44.","Once upon a time there was an old man who already had twelve children, and when the thirteenth was born he did not know where to turn for help. In desperation he went into the woods. There the Good Lord happened upon him and said to him, 'I feel sorry for you, poor man. I will lift your child from his baptism and take care of him. He will be happy on earth.' The man answered, 'I do not want you as a godfather. You give to the rich and let the poor starve.' With that he left him standing there and continued on his way. Soon thereafter Death happened upon him and also said to him, 'I will be godfather for you and pick up your child. And if he has me as a friend, he will lack nothing. I will make a doctor of him.' The man said, 'I am satisfied with that, for without distinction you take the rich as well as the poor. Tomorrow is Sunday, when the child will be baptized. Be on time.' The next day Death arrived and held the child for his baptism. After he had grown up, Death came again and took his godchild into the woods, and said to him, 'Now you are to become a doctor. You must only pay attention when you are called to a sick person and see if I am standing at his head. If so, without further ado let him smell from this flask, then anoint his feet with its contents, and he soon will regain his health. But if I am standing at his feet, then he is finished, for I will soon take him. Do not attempt to begin a cure.' With that Death gave him the flask, and he became a renowned doctor. He only needed to see a patient, and he could immediately predict whether he would regain his health or die. Once he was summoned to the king, who was suffering from a serious illness. When the doctor approached him, he saw Death standing at the king's feet, and his flask would be of no use. But it occurred to him that he might deceive Death. Thus he took hold of the king and turned him around, so that Death was now standing at his head. It succeeded, and the king regained his health. After the doctor returned home, Death came to him, made angry and grim faces at him, and said, 'If you ever again attempt to deceive me, I shall wring your neck.' Soon afterward the king's beautiful daughter took ill. No one on earth could help her. The king wept day and night, until finally he proclaimed that whoever could cure her could have her as a reward. The doctor came and saw Death standing at her feet. Astonished at her beauty, he forgot the warning, turned her around, let her smell from the healing flask, and anointed the soles of her feet with its contents. He had scarcely returned home when Death with his terrifying face appeared before him, seized him, and carried him to an underground cavern where many thousand lights were burning. 'Look!' said Death. 'These are all the living. And here is a light that will burn only a little longer, and then go out. This is your life! Take heed!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
332,The Boy with the Ale Keg,Norway,"I have used the edition Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: David Douglass, 1888). Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman. Dasent gives this tale the more traditional title 'Death and the Doctor.' I have restored Asbjørnsen's and Moe's original title.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Gutten med øldunken, Norske Folkeeventyr.","Once upon a time there was a boy who had served a man in the northern mountains for a long time. This man was a master at ale brewing. It was so uncommonly good, the like of it was not to be found. So, when the boy was to leave his place and the man was to pay him the wages he had earned, he would take no other pay than a keg of Yule-ale. Well, he got it and set off with it, and he carried it both far and long, but the longer he carried the keg the heavier it got, and so he began to look about to see if anyone were coming with whom he might have drink, that the ale might lessen and the keg lighten. And after a long, long time, he met an old man with a big beard. 'Good day,' said the man. 'Good day to you,' said the boy. 'Where are you going?' asked the man. 'I'm looking for someone to drink with me, and lighten my keg,' said the boy. 'Can't you drink with me as well as with anyone else?' said the man. 'I have traveled both far and wide, and I am both tired and thirsty.' 'Well, why shouldn't I?' said the boy. 'But tell me, where are you from, and what sort of man are you?' 'I am the Lord, and come from Heaven,' said the man. 'I will not drink with you,' said the boy, 'for you make such distinction between persons here on earth, and you divide rights so unevenly that some get so rich and some so poor. No, I will not drink with you!' And having said this he trudged off again with his keg. When he had gone a bit farther the keg grew too heavy again. He thought he could not carry it any longer unless someone came with whom he might drink, and so lessen the ale in the keg. Yes, he met an ugly, scrawny man who came rushing along. 'Good day,' said the man. 'Good day to you,' said the boy. 'Where are you going?' asked the man. 'Oh, I'm looking for someone to drink with, and lighten my keg,' said the boy. 'Can't you drink with me as well as with anyone else?' said the man. 'I have traveled both far and wide, and I am tired and thirsty.' 'Well, why not?' said the boy. 'But who are you, and where do you come from?' 'Who am I? I am the Devil, and I come from Hell, that's where I come from,' said the man. 'No!' said the boy. 'You only torment and plague poor folk, and if there is any unhappiness astir, they always say it is your fault. I will not drink with you.' So he went far and farther than far again with his ale keg on his back, until he thought it grew so heavy there was no carrying it any farther. He began to look around again if anyone were coming with whom he could drink and lighten his keg. So after a long, long time, another man came, and he was so dried up and scrawny it was a wonder that his bones hung together. 'Good day,' said the man. 'Good day to you,' said the boy. 'Where are you going?' asked the man. 'Oh, I was only looking about to see if I could find someone to drink with, that my keg might be lightened a little, it is so heavy to carry.' 'Can't you drink with me as well as with anyone else?' said the man. 'Yes, why not?' said the boy. 'But what sort of man are you?' 'They call me Death,' said the man. 'I will gladly drink with you.,' said the boy. And as he said this he put down his keg and began to tap the ale into a bowl. 'You are a good man, for you treat all alike, both rich and poor.' So he drank to his health, and Death drank to his health, and Death said he had never tasted such drink, and as the boy was fond of him, they drank bowl after bowl until the ale was lessened, and the keg grew light. At last Death said, 'I have never known drink which tasted better, or did me so much good as this ale that you have given me, and I scarce know what to give you in return.' But after he had thought awhile, he said the keg should never get empty, however much they drank out of it, and the ale that was in it should become a healing drink, by which the boy could make the sick whole again better than any doctor. And he also said that when the boy came into a sick man's room, Death would always be there, and show himself to him, and it should be to him a sure sign if he saw Death at the foot of the bed that he could cure the sick with a draft from the keg; but if he sat by the pillow, there was no healing nor medicine, for then the sick person belonged to Death. Well, the boy soon grew famous, and was summoned far and near, and he helped many to health again who had been given up. When he came in and saw how Death sat by a sick man's bed, he foretold either life or death, and his foretelling was never wrong. He became both a rich and powerful man, and at last he was summoned to a king's daughter far, far away in the world. She was so dangerously ill that no doctor thought he could do her any good, and so they promised him all that he might ask for if he would only save her life. Now, when he came into the princess's room, there sat Death at her pillow; but as he sat he dozed and nodded, and while he did this she felt better. 'Now, life or death is at stake,' said the doctor; 'and I fear, from what I see, there is no hope.' But they said he must save her, if it cost land and realm. So he looked at Death, and while he sat there and dozed again, he made a sign to the servants to turn the bed around so quickly that Death was left sitting at the foot, and at the very moment they turned the bed, the doctor gave her the draft, and her life was spared. 'Now you have cheated me,' said Death, 'and we are quits.' 'I was forced to do it,' said the doctor, 'unless I wished to lose land and realm.' 'That shall not help you much,' said Death. 'Your time is up, for now you belong to me.' 'Well,' said the boy, 'what must be must be. But you'll let me have time to read the Lord's Prayer first?' Yes, he might have leave to do that. But he took very good care not to read the Lord's Prayer. He read everything else, but the Lord's Prayer never crossed his lips, and at last he thought he had cheated Death for good and all. But when Death thought he had really waited too long, he went to the boy's house one night, and hung up a large tablet with the Lord's Prayer painted on it over against his bed. So when the boy woke in the morning he began to read the tablet, and did not quite see what he was doing until he came to Amen. But then it was just too late, and Death had him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
332,The Just Man,Italy,"Note that the 'just man' in this tale is a woman. Aarne, Antti, and Thompson, Stith. The Types of the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography. FF Communications, no. 184. Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1961. Ashliman, D. L. A Guide to Folktales in the English Language. New York; Westport Connecticut; and London: Greenwood Press, 1987. Uther, Hans-Jörg. The Types of International Folktales: A Classificiation and Bibliography, 3 vols. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 2004.","Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 67, pp. 226-27.","Once upon a time there was a peasant and his wife who had a child that they would not baptize until they could find a just man for his godfather. The father took the child in his arms and went into the street to look for this just man. After he had walked along a while, he met a man, who was our Lord, and said to him, 'I have this child to baptize, but I do not want to give him to anyone who is not just. Are you just?' The Lord answered, 'But -- I don't know whether I am just.' Then the peasant passed on and met a woman, who was the Madonna, and said to her, 'I have this child to baptize and do not wish to give him to anyone who is not just. Are you just?' 'I don't know,' said the Madonna. 'But go on, for you will find someone who is just.' He went his way and met another woman, who was Death, and said to her, 'I have been sent to you, for I have been told that you are just, and I have this child to baptize, and do not wish to give it to one who is not just. Are you just?' Death said, 'Yes, I believe I am just! Let us baptize the child, and then I will show you whether I am just.' Then they baptized the child, and afterwards Death led the peasant into a very long room, where there were many lights burning. 'Godmother,' said the man, astonished at seeing all the light, 'what are all these lights?' Death said, 'These are the lights of all the souls in the world. Would you like to see, friend? This is yours and this is your son's' When the peasant saw that his light was about to expire, he said, 'And when the oil is all consumed, godmother?' 'Then,' answered Death, 'you must come with me, for I am Death.' 'Oh! for mercy's sake,' cried the peasant, 'let me at least take a little oil from my son's lamp and put it in mine!' 'No, no, godfather,' said Death. 'I don't do anything of that sort. You wished to see a just person, and a just person you have found. And now go home and arrange your affairs, for I am waiting for you.' 'Godfather Death' stories are classified as type 332 in the Aarne-Thompson-Uther folktale classification system. For more information about folktale types see: Classification and Bibliography. FF Communications, no. 184. Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1961. New York; Westport Connecticut; and London: Greenwood Press, 1987. A Classificiation and Bibliography, 3 vols. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 2004. An essay by D. L. Ashliman, with supporting texts from proverbs, folktales, and myths from around the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
160,Adrian and Bardus,"England, John Gower","Link to a somewhat more detailed summary: William Alexander Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions: Their Migrations and Transformations, vol. 1 (Edinburgh and London: William blackwood and Sons, 1887), pp. 224-26. Link to the full-length Middle English text: Confessio Amantis, The Complete Works of John Gower: The English Works, edited by G. C. Macaulay (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1901), book 5, pp. 81-87. Gower's Confessio Amantis was written between about 1386 and 1390.","Confessio Amantis, The Complete Works of John Gower: The English Works, edited by G. C. Macaulay (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1901), p. lxxi. This is Macaulay's summary, in modern English, of Gower's longer tale in Middle English.","Adrian, a great lord of Rome, while hunting in a forest, fell into a pit. He cried for help all day, but none heard till evening, when one Bardus, a woodcutter, came by with his ass, and heard Adrian promise to give half his goods to him who should help him. He let down a rope, and first an ape and then a serpent was drawn up by it. Bardus was terrified, but still the voice implored help, and at length Adrian was drawn up. At once this lord departed without thanks, and threatened Bardus with vengeance if ever he should claim the promise. The poor man went home, not daring to speak more, and on the next day, going to get wood, he found that the ape had requited his kindness by gathering for him a great heap of sticks, and so continued to do day by day; and the serpent brought him a precious stone in her mouth. This last he sold to a jeweler and afterwards found it again in his purse, and as often as he sold it, the same thing followed. At length this came to be known, and the Emperor heard of it. Calling Bardus before him he listened to his tale, and gave judgment that Adrian should fulfil his promise.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
160,Of Ingratitude,Gesta Romanorum,"The Gesta Romanorum (Deeds of the Romans) was compiled in Latin about 1300 AD. Different scholars identify its compiler as of English, French, or German nationality.","Gesta Romanorum, translated from the Latin by Charles Swan (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 119, pp. 212-16.","In the reign of a certain king there lived a proud and oppressive seneschal. Now, near the royal palace was a forest well stocked with game; and by the direction of this person various pits were dug there, and covered with leaves, for the purpose of entrapping the beasts. It happened that the seneschal himself went into this forest, and with much exaltation of heart exclaimed internally, 'Lives there a being in the empire more powerful than I am?' This braggart thought was scarcely formed, ere he rode upon one of his own pitfalls, and immediately disappeared. The same day had been taken a lion, a monkey, and a serpent. Terrified at the situation into which fate had thrown him, he cried out lustily, and his noise awoke a poor man called Guido, who had come with his ass into that forest to procure firewood, by the sale of which he got his bread. Hastening to the mouth of the pit, he was promised great wealth if he would extricate the seneschal from his perilous situation. 'My friend,' answered Guido, 'I have no means of obtaining a livelihood except by the faggots which I collect. If I neglect this for a single day, I shall be thrown into the greatest difficulties.' The seneschal reiterated his promises of enriching him; and Guido went hack to the city, and returned with a long cord, which he let down into the pit, and bade the seneschal bind it round his waist. But before he could apply it to the intended purpose, the lion leaped forward, and seizing upon the cord, was drawn up in his stead. Immediately, exhibiting great signs of pleasure, the beast ran off into the wood. The rope again descended, and the monkey, having noticed the success of the lion, vaulted above the man's head, and shaking the cord, was in like manner set at liberty, and hurried off to his haunts. A third time the cord was let down, and the serpent, twining around it, was drawn up, gave signs of gratitude, and escaped. 'Oh, my good friend,' said the seneschal, 'the beasts are gone, now draw me up quickly, I pray you.' Guido complied, and afterwards succeeded in drawing up his horse, which the seneschal instantly mounted and rode back to the palace. Guido returned home; and his wife observing that he had come without wood, was very dejected, and inquired the cause. He related what had occurred, and the riches he was to receive for his service. The wife's countenance brightened. Early in the morning her husband went to the palace. But the seneschal denied all knowledge of him, and ordered him to be whipped for his presumption. The porter executed the directions, and beat him so severely that he left him half dead. As soon as Guido's wife understood this, she saddled their ass, and brought him home in a very infirm state. The sickness which ensued consumed the whole of their little property; but as soon as he had recovered, he returned to his usual occupation in the wood. Whilst he was thus employed, he beheld afar off ten asses laden with packs, and a lion following close on them, pursuing the path which led towards Guido. On looking narrowly at this beast, he remembered that it was the same which he had freed from its imprisonment in the pit. The lion signified with his foot that he should take the loaded asses, and go home. This Guido did, and the lion followed. On arriving at his own door, the noble beast fawned upon him, and wagging his tail as if in triumph, ran back to the woods. Guido caused proclamation to be made in different churches, that if any asses had been lost, the owners should come to him; but no one appearing to demand them, he opened the packages, and, to his great joy, discovered them full of money. On the second day Guido returned to the forest, but forgot an iron instrument to cleave the wood. He looked up, and beheld the monkey whose liberation he had effected; and the animal, by help of teeth and nails, accomplished his desires. Guido then loaded his asses and went home. The next day he renewed his visit to the forest; and sitting down to prepare his instrument, discerned the serpent, whose escape he had aided, carrying a stone in its mouth of three colors; on one side white, on another black, and on the third red. It opened its mouth and let the stone fall into Guido's lap. Having done this, it departed. Guido took the stone to a skillful lapidary, who had no sooner inspected it than he knew its virtues, and would willingly have paid him an hundred florins for it. But Guido refused; and by means of that singular stone obtained great wealth, and was promoted to a military command. The emperor having heard of the extraordinary qualities which it possessed, desired to see it. Guido went accordingly; and the emperor was so struck with its uncommon beauty, that he wished to purchase it at any rate; and threatened, if Guido refused compliance, to banish him the kingdom. 'My lord,' answered he, 'I will sell the stone; but let me say one thing -- if the price be not given, it shall be presently restored to me.' He demanded three hundred florin, and then, taking it from a small coffer, put it into the emperor's hands. Full of admiration, he exclaimed, 'Tell me where you procured this beautiful stone.' This he did; and narrated from the beginning the seneschal's accident and subsequent ingratitude. He told how severely he had been injured by his command; and the benefits he had received from the lion, the monkey, and serpent. Much moved at the recital, the emperor sent for the seneschal and said, 'What is this I hear of thee?' He was unable to reply. 'O wretch!' continued the emperor -- 'monster of ingratitude! Guido liberated thee from the most imminent danger, and for this thou hast nearly destroyed him. Dost thou see how even irrational things have rendered him good for the service he performed? but thou hast returned evil for good. Therefore I deprive thee of thy dignity, which I will bestow upon Guido; and I further adjudge you to be suspended on a cross.' This decree infinitely rejoiced the noblemen of the empire; and Guido, full of honors and years, ended his days in peace. Application: My beloved, the emperor is God; the pauper, man. The forest is the world, which is full of pits. The lion is the Son of God, who assumed humanity; the monkey is conscience; and the serpent is a prelate or confessor. The cord is Christ's passion; the loaded asses are the divine precepts.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
160,Story of the Grateful Animals and the Ungrateful Woman,The Kathasaritsagara,"The Katha Sarit Sagara, also spelled Kathasaritsagara, is an eleventh-century collection of Indian tales as retold by a Brahmin named Somadeva.","Ocean of Story: Being C. H. Tawney's Translation of Somadeva's Katha Sarit Sagara (Or Ocean of Streams of Story), vol. 5 (London: Privately printed for subscribers only, 1926), no. 148, pp. 157-64.","One day, as he was roaming about in the wood to assist others, he saw a great well and looked into it. And a woman, who was in it, said to him in a loud voice: 'Noble sir, here are four of us, myself a woman, a lion, and a golden-crested bird, and a snake, fallen into this well in the night; so take us out; have mercy upon us.' When he heard this, he said: 'Granted that you three fell in because the darkness made it impossible for you to see your way, but how did the bird fall in?' The woman answered him: 'It fell in by being caught in a fowler's net.' Then the ascetic tried to lift them out by the supernatural power of his asceticism, but he could not; on the contrary, his power was gone. He reflected: 'Surely this woman is a sinner, and owing to my having conversed with her, my power is gone from me. So I will use other means in this case.' Then he plaited a rope of grass, and so drew them all four up out of the well, and they praised him. And in his astonishment he said to the lion, the bird and the snake: 'Tell me, how come you to have articulate voice, and what is your history?' Then the lion said: ' We have articulate speech and remember our former births, and we are mutual enemies; hear our stories in turns.' So the lion began to tell his own story as follows: Then his father cursed him, saying: 'Fall into the world of mortals.' Then his arrogance was extinguished, and his knowledge left him, and smitten with the curse he wept, and asked his father to name a time when it should end. Then his father Padmavesa thought a little, and said immediately: 'You shall become a Brahmin's son on the earth, and display this arrogance once more, and by your father's curse you shall become a lion and fall into a well. And a man of noble character, out of compassion, shall draw you out, and when you have recompensed him in his calamity, you shall be delivered from this curse.' This was the termination of the curse which his father appointed for him. Then Vajravega was born in Malava as Devaghosha, the son of Harighosha, a Brahmin. And in that birth also he fought with many, confiding in his heroism, and his father said to him: 'Do not go on in this way quarrelling with everybody.' But he would not obey his father's orders, so his father cursed him: 'Become immediately a foolish lion, over-confident in its strength.' In consequence of this speech of his father's, Devaghosha, that incarnation of a Vidyadhara, was again born as a lion in this forest. After the lion had said this, he went away, and the golden-crested bird, being questioned by that Bodhisattva, told his tale. In his childishness he kept begging for the pinjara, saying: 'Give it me, I too want to play on it.' And when she would not give it him, in his flightiness he seized the pinjara, and flew up to heaven with it in the form of a bird. Then his sister cursed him, saying: 'Since you have taken my pinjara from me by force, and flown away with it, you shall become a bird with a golden crest.' When Rajatadamshtra heard this, he fell at his sister's feet, and entreated her to fix a time for his curse to end, and she said: 'When, foolish boy, you fall, in your bird-form, into a blind well, and a certain merciful person draws you out, and you do him a service in return, then you shall be released from this curse.' When she had said this to her brother, he was born as a bird with a golden crest. When the bird had said this, he departed. Then the snake, being questioned by that Bodhisattva, told his story to that great-souled one. Formerly I was the son of a hermit in the hermitage of Kasyapa. And I had a companion there who was also the son of a hermit. And one day my friend went down into the lake to bathe, and I remained on the bank. And while I was there, I saw a serpent come with three heads. And, in order to terrify that friend of mine in fun, I fixed the serpent immovable on the bank, opposite to where he was, by the power of a spell. My friend got through his bathing in a moment, and came to the bank, and unexpectedly seeing that great serpent there, he was terrified and fainted. After some time I brought my friend round again, but he, finding out by meditation that I had terrified him in this way, became angry, and cursed me, saying: 'Go and become a similar great snake with three crests.' Then I entreated him to fix an end to my curse, and he said: 'When, in your serpent condition, you fall into a well, and at a critical moment do a service to the man who pulls you out, then you shall be freed from your curse.' When the snake had said this, he departed, and the woman told her story. When the sinful woman had said this to the Bodhisattva, she went to the town of a king named Gotravardhana. She obtained an interview with him, and remained among his attendants, in the capacity of maid to the king's principal queen. But because that Bodhisattva talked with that woman, he lost his power, and could not procure fruits and roots and things of that kind. Then, being exhausted with hunger and thirst, he first thought of the lion. And, when he thought of him, he came and fed him with the flesh of deer, and in a short time he restored him to his former health with their flesh; and then the lion said: 'My curse is at an end, I will depart.' When he had said this, the Bodhisattva gave him leave to depart, and the lion became a Vidyadhara and went to his own place. Then that incarnation of a portion of a Bodhisattva, being again exhausted by want of food, thought upon that golden-crested bird, and he came, when thought of by him. And when he told the bird of his sufferings, the bird went and brought a casket full of jewels and gave it him, and said: ''This wealth will support you for ever, and so my curse has come to an end, now I depart; may you enjoy happiness!' When he had said this, he became a young Vidyadhara prince, and went through the air to his own world, and received the kingdom from his father. And the Bodhisattva, as he was wandering about to sell the jewels, reached that city where the woman was living whom he had rescued from the well. And he deposited those jewels in an out-of-the-way house belonging to an old Brahmin woman, and went to the market, and on the way he saw coming towards him the very woman whom he had saved from the well, and the woman saw him. And the two fell into a conversation, and in the course of it the woman told him of her position about the person of the queen. And she asked him about his own adventures. So the confiding man told her how the golden-crested bird had given him the jewels. And he took her and showed her the jewels in the house of the old woman, and the wicked woman went and told her mistress, the queen, of it. Now it happened that the golden-crested bird had managed artfully to steal this casket of jewels from the interior of the queen's palace, before her eyes. And when the queen heard from the mouth of that woman, who knew the facts, that the casket had arrived in the city, she informed the king. And the king had the Bodhisattva pointed out by that wicked woman, and brought by his servants as a prisoner from that house with the ornaments. And after he had asked him the circumstances, though he believed his account, he not only took the ornaments from him, but he put him in prison. Then the Bodhisattva, terrified at being put in prison, thought upon the snake, who was an incarnation of the hermit's son, and the snake came to him. And when the snake had seen him, and inquired what his need was, he said to the good man: 'I will go and coil round the king from his head to his feet. And I will not let him go until I am told to do so by you. And you must say here, in the prison: 'I will deliver the king from the serpent.' And when you come and give me the order, I will let the king go. And when I let him go, he will give you half his kingdom.' After he had said this, the snake went and coiled round the king, and placed his three hoods on his head. And the people began to cry out: 'Alas I the king is bitten by a snake.' Then the Bodhisattva said: 'I will deliver the king from this snake.' And the king's servants, having heard this, informed him. Thereupon the king, who was in the grasp of the snake, had the Bodhisattva summoned, and said to him: 'If you deliver me from this snake, I will give you half my kingdom, and these my ministers are your guarantees that I will keep my promise.' When his ministers heard this, they said, 'Certainly,' and then the Bodhisattva said to that snake: 'Let the king go at once.' Then the snake let the king go, and the king gave half his kingdom to that Bodhisattva, and thus he became prosperous in a moment. And the serpent, as its curse was at an end, became a young hermit, and he told his story in the presence of the court and went back to his hermitage.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
160,The Grateful Animals and the Ungrateful Man (Panchatantra),"India, The Panchatantra","The genders of the tiger, monkey, and snake are not clear from Benfey's German translation. I have arbitrarily made them male. Link to another translation of this story: 'The Ungrateful Man,' The Panchatantra, translated from the Sanskrit by Arthur W. Ryder (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), pp. 112-17.","Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit by Theodor Benfey; vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), pp. 128-32.","In a certain place there lived a Brahmin whose name was Jadschnjadatta [Given to Sacrifice]. His wife, overcome by poverty, every day would say: 'Oh, you cowardly, heard-hearted Brahmin. Do you not see how your children are tormented by hunger, while you stand by without caring! Set forth from here and with all your strength seek a way to get some food, then come back as soon as possible.' Exhausted from her complaints, he set forth on a lengthy journey. After a few days he found himself in a great forest. Tormented by hunger he began to look for water when he saw a deep pit covered over with leaves. At the bottom of the pit he saw a tiger, a monkey, snake, and a man; and they saw him as well. Perceiving that he was a man, the tiger said, 'Oh, you honorable one, remember that it is a great virtue to rescue a living being, and pull me out, so that I can return to the circle of my dear friends, my wife, and my family!' The Brahmin said, 'The mere mention of your name brings fear to all living creatures. Should not I too be afraid of you?' The tiger replied, 'Repentance is possible for the murderer of a Brahmin, for drunkards, hooligans, thieves, and promise-breakers, but not for those who are ungrateful. I swear with a three-fold oath that you have no cause to fear me. Therefore have mercy on me and pull me out!' The Brahmin thought to himself, 'Death would bring salvation, if suffered while saving the life of another living being,' and he helped the tiger out of the pit. Then the monkey said to him, 'My good man, help me out too!' Hearing this, the Brahmin pulled him out. The snake said, 'Oh, consecrated one, pull me out too.' The Brahmin replied, 'Just saying your name causes one to tremble, much less touching you!' The snake said, 'We do not act arbitrarily. We only bite if we are provoked into doing so. I swear with a three-fold oath that you have no cause to fear me.' After hearing this the Brahmin pulled the snake out. Then they all said to him, 'The man down there embraces every kind of sin. Take note of this, and do not help him out. Do not trust him.' Then the tiger spoke up again, 'My den is in a crack in the cliff on the north side of the many-peaked mountain that you can see. You must come to me there so I can repay you and not be in your debt in a future life.' Having said this he departed for his home. Then the monkey said, 'I live next to a waterfall in the vicinity of the tiger's den. You must visit me there!' And with that he went on his way. The snake said, 'If your life is ever threatened, just think of me!' And he went on his way. Then the man in the pit cried out repeatedly, 'Oh, Brahmin, help me out!' Overcome by pity, the Brahmin finally pulled him out too. 'I am a goldsmith,' said the rescued man, 'and if you ever need any gold-work done, just bring it to me.' Then he too went on his way. The Brahmin wandered about without finding anything to eat. Tormented by hunger he turned towards home, but then remembered what the monkey had said and went to him instead. The monkey gave him fruits as sweet as ambrosia, saying, 'Whenever you have need of fruit, just come back to me.' Then the consecrated one said, 'You have done well. Now show me the way to the tiger.' The monkey led him to the tiger's den. Recognizing him, the tiger gave the Brahmin a gold necklace along with other ornaments in payment for his good deed. The tiger explained: 'A certain prince, whose horse ran away with him, came under my claws, and I killed him. These things came from him, and I brought them here for you. Take them and go in peace!' The Brahmin remembered the goldsmith and thought, 'He will know who I am, and will help me sell this gold.' The goldsmith received him with every courtesy: foot-washing, refreshment, and so forth, then said, 'Just let me know what I can do for you.' The consecrated one said, 'I have brought gold that you should sell for me.' The goldsmith said, 'Show me the gold!' The Brahmin showed him the pieces, and the goldsmith recognized them as work that he himself had done for the king's son. 'Just wait here,' he said, 'while I show the gold to someone.' Then he went to the palace and showed the gold to the king. 'Where did you get this?' asked the king. 'There is a Brahmin in my house who brought it to me.' The king thought, 'He is the villain who killed my son. He shall pay for that!' The king had his watchmen bind the Brahmin, with the order that he was to be impaled at the break of day. As he was being bound, the Brahmin remembered the snake, and in that same instant the snake appeared before him, and said, 'How can I serve you?' The consecrated one said, 'Set me free.' The snake replied, 'I shall bite the king's favorite wife. Neither the incantations of the greatest sorcerers nor the medications of the best physicians shall free her from the poison. It will only go away when you touch her with your hand. And then you shall be set free.' After saying this, the snake bit the queen. A cry of despair arose at the palace, and the entire city was in shock. Sorcerer, healers, magicians, and physicians all tried to cure her, but their efforts had no effect on the poison. Answering the call of the public drummer, the consecrated one said, 'I can free her from the poison.' Thus the Brahmin was taken from prison and led to the king, who said, 'Free her from the poison!' The Brahmin went to the queen, and with a mere touch of his hand he freed her from the poison. Seeing his wife alive and well once again, he approached the Brahmin with honor and respect. 'Where did you get the gold?' he asked. The consecrated one related to him everything that had happened, from the very beginning. Now knowing the truth of the matter, the king had the goldsmith thrown into prison and he appointed the Brahmin as his minister and gave him a thousand villages. The Brahmin summoned his family and lived happily with his friends, taking pleasure in good works and enjoying the fruits of a virtuous preexistence.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
160,The Grateful Animals and the Ungrateful Man (Schiefner),Tibet,NA,"Kanjur, Tibetan Tales Derived from Indian Sources; translated from the Tibetan of the Kay-Gyur [Kanjur] by F. Anton von Schiefner; done into English from the German by W. R. S. Ralston. (London: Trübner and Company, 1882), no. 26, pp. 309-310.","But the lion said, 'O honored ones, ye are all comrades of mine. As things are so, and we are suffering intolerable pain from woe, it is now no time for us to expose one another to danger. Therefore sit quietly without disturbing yourselves.' By the dispensation of destiny a hunter, who was looking for gazelles, came to that spot, and while he was looking at that pit, all those creatures exclaimed in confused words, 'Ho, friend, rescue us!' Understanding what they said, the hunter drew out first of all the lion. It touched his feet and said, 'I shall prove grateful to you. But do not draw out that black-headed one who forgets accepted benefits.' Having thus spoken, the lion departed. The hunter then proceeded to extricate them all by degrees from the pit. One day the hunter came again to that spot when the lion had killed a gazelle. The lion recognized the man, and touched his feet, and gave him the gazelle. At another time King Brahmadatta had gone into the park with his spouse, and, after enjoying himself there, had lain down to sleep. Left at their ease, the women took off their clothes and exposed them to the air. And they laid aside their ornaments in divers places and roamed about, or sat, reposed, and slept in the grove. When one of the wives had laid aside her ornaments at a certain spot, and had gone to sleep, the falcon carried them off, and gratefully presented them to the hunter. When the king awoke from his sleep he went swiftly to Varanasi And away went quickly also the wives, princes, ministers, townspeople, and country-folk. The wife, who looked for her ornaments but could not find them, said to the king, 'O king, my ornaments are lost in the park.' The king gave orders to his ministers, saying, 'O honored ones, as the ornaments are lost, find out who has carried them off.' When they began to make inquiries, the black-headed man, who had visited the hunter from time to time and knew that he was in possession of the ornaments, came with ungrateful heart and told the king. Then the king was very angry. And the king's men summoned the hunter, and said to him, 'Ho, friend, you stole the ornaments out of the park.' The hunter was terrified and related what had taken place. The ornaments were restored to the king. But the hunter was bound and cast into prison. Then the mouse went to the snake and said, 'By the contrivance of the black-headed sinner has our benefactor been bound and cast into prison.' The snake said, 'O hunter, I will bite the king today. Then do you heal him with this spell and this remedy. If that is done, no doubt the king will set you at liberty, and will confer upon you gifts and good things.' The hunter said, 'Good, so be it!' The snake bit the king, and the hunter came and healed him with the spell and the remedy. Then the king joyfully released him from the prison, and bestowed upon him gifts and good things.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
160,The Traveler and the Goldsmith,Kalila and Dimna,"Kalila and Dimna, based on the Indian Panchatantra, was translated into Arabic in 750 AD by the Persian scholar Abdullah Ibn al-Muqaffa.","Kalila and Dimna; or, The Fables of Bidpai, translated from the Arabic by Wyndham Knatchbull (Oxford: Printed by W. Baxter, 1819), no. 17, pp. 346-54.","A number of persons dug a pit, and there fell into it a goldsmith, a serpent, a monkey, and a tiger; and a traveler, who was passing by, stood over the pit, and saw the man and his companions, and said to himself, 'I cannot perform any deed that will plead more strongly in my favor in the life to come, than by saving this man from the enemies by whom he is surrounded.' So he took a rope, and let it down into the pit; and the monkey, owing to his dexterity and nimbleness, was the first to cling to it, and climb up; he then let it down a second time, and the serpent twisted himself round it, and came out; then a third time, and the tiger took hold of it, and he drew him up. Then the three beasts thanked him for his having assisted them to escape, but begged him not to release the goldsmith, adding, that men in general, and especially the person in question, were incapable of gratitude. And the monkey said to him, 'I live on a mountain near a city called Nawadarkht.' The tiger said, 'I live in a wood close by this city.' And the serpent, 'I dwell in the walls of the city, and if you pass in our neighborhood at any time, and have occasion for our services, call to us, and we will come and reward you for the kindness which you have shown us.' But the traveler paid no attention to what they had told him of the ingratitude of the man, but let down the rope again, and brought out the goldsmith, who thanked him for what he had done, and said, 'If ever you come to Nawadarkht, enquire for my house; I am a goldsmith, and shall be happy to be of any use to you I can for the service you have rendered me.' Then the goldsmith returned to the city, and the traveler continued his journey. Some time after the traveler had occasion to go to Nawadarkht, and as he was walking along, the monkey met him, and saluted him, and kissed his feet, and made apologies for the inability of monkeys to do much for a friend, but begged him to sit down, and wait till he returned; then the monkey went away, and very soon came back, bringing some choice fruit, which he placed before the traveler, who having eaten as much as he chose, continued his journey. And as he approached the gate of the city, the tiger advanced towards him, and placing himself in an humble posture before him, said, 'Wait a moment, and I will very soon come back to you.' Then the tiger went away, and entered the city by one of the walls, and killed the king's daughter, and tore off her trinkets, and brought them to the traveler, without informing him by what means he had procured them. Then the traveler said to himself, 'These beasts have rewarded me very handsomely, and I am now curious to see what the goldsmith will do. If he is poor, and has no means of showing his gratitude, he may at least sell these trinkets for their full value, with which of course he is acquainted, and divide with me the sum of money which he obtains for them.' So he went to the goldsmith, who, as soon as he saw him, saluted him, and made him enter his house; and observing the trinkets, he immediately recognized them to be those which he had made for the daughter of the king. He then told the traveler that he had no provisions in the house good enough for him, but if he would wait a little while, he would fetch him something to eat. Then he went out, and said to himself, 'This is an opportunity not to be lost; I will go to the king, and inform him of the discovery I have made, and he will no doubt acknowledge and reward my zeal.' Then he went to the antechamber of the king, and announced himself by a message to the following purport: 'The person who has killed your majesty's daughter and stolen her trinkets is at this moment in my house.' Then the king desired the traveler, to be brought before him, and as soon as he saw the jewels in his possession, he immediately ordered him to be put to the torture, and after that to be led through the city, and in the end put to death. Whilst the punishment was being executed, the traveler began to weep, and cry out with a loud voice, 'If I had attended to the hints which the monkey, the serpent, and the tiger gave me of the ingratitude of this man, I should have escaped this misfortune.' And as he repeated the same words several times, the serpent heard what he said, and came out from her hole, and knew her benefactor again, and was so distressed at the situation in which she found him, that she immediately thought of some contrivance to release him, and went and stung the son of the king; and the king called together the wise men of his kingdom, who endeavored to charm the bite by their incantations and magical arts, but all to no purpose. Now the serpent had a sister, who was one of the Genii; so she went to her, and informed her of the kindness she had experienced from the traveler, and of the misfortune into which he was fallen; and the sister felt pity for him, and went to the king's son, and rendering herself invisible told him that he would not get well, unless the man who had been punished so undeservedly pronounced an incantation over him. Then the serpent went to the traveler in prison, and reproached him for not having attended to her advice concerning the goldsmith; and she gave him leaves, which she told him served as an antidote to her poison, and desired him, when he was called to charm the bite which the king's son had received, to make the young prince drink a decoction of the leaves, which would cure him; and if the king enquired into his circumstances, he must give a true account of himself, and by the favor of heaven he would by these means escape. Then the king's son told his father, that he had heard the voice of someone speaking, who said to him, that he would not get well, unless the man who had been unjustly imprisoned charmed the sting of the serpent; upon which the king ordered the traveler to be sent for, and desired him to charm his son. The traveler replied, 'Incantations will be of no use to him, but if he drinks a decoction of these leaves, he will with the assistance of heaven be cured.' Then he made him drink, and the child got well, to the great joy and satisfaction of his father; and the king desired the traveler to give some account of himself, and the latter related his history. Then the king thanked him, and made him a handsome present, and commanded that the goldsmith should be put to death in his stead; and the sentence was carried into execution, as a just punishment for the false evidence which he had given, and the bad return he had made to a good action. So in the ingratitude of the goldsmith towards the traveler, and the gratitude on the other hand of the beasts towards their benefactor, by the means of one of whom he escaped from the danger which threatened him, is contained a salutary lesson for those who will listen to instruction, and matter of reflection for the considerate man, who will learn from this example to select, from motives of prudence as well as interest, those only as objects of his generosity and favor, who are possessed of integrity and honorable sentiments, in whatever rank or condition of life he may find them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
160,Vitalis and the Woodcutter,Attributed to Richard the Lionheart (Richard Coeur de Lion),Roger of Wendover died in 1236. This story was inserted into Roger of Wendover's account by Matthew Paris (ca. 1200-1259). King Richard the Lionheart lived between 1157 and 1199.,"Roger of Wendover Flowers of History: Comprising the History of England from the Descent of the Saxons to A.D. 1235, translated from the Latin by J. A. Giles; vol. 2 (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1849), pp. 143-45.","About this time [1195 A.D.] a remarkable circumstance happened to a rich and miserly Venetian, which we think it worth while to insert in this place: His name was Vitalis; and when he was on the point of giving his daughter in marriage, he went into a large forest near the sea to provide delicacies for the table. As he wandered alone through the forest, with his bow and arrows ready, and intent on taking venison, he suddenly fell into a pitfall which had been cunningly set for the lions, bears, and wolves, out of which he found it impossible to escape, because the bottom of it was so wide and the mouth so narrow. Here he found two fierce animals, a lion and a serpent, which had also by accident fallen in; and Vitalis signing himself with the cross, neither of them, though fierce and hungry, ventured to attack him. All that night he spent in this pit, crying and moaning, and expecting with lamentations the approach of so base a death. A poor woodcutter, passing by chance that way to collect faggots, heard his cries, which seemed to come from beneath the ground, and following the sound till he came to the pit's mouth, he looked in and called out, 'Who is there?' Vitalis sprang up, rejoiced beyond measure, and eagerly replied, 'It is I, Vitalis, a Venetian, who knowing nothing of these pitfalls, fell in, and shall be devoured by wild beasts, besides which I am dying of hunger and terror. There are two fierce animals here, a lion and a serpent, but, by God's protection and the sign of the cross, they have not yet hurt me, and it remains for you to save me, that I may afterwards show you my gratitude. If you will save me, I will give you half of all my property, namely, five hundred talents; for I am worth a thousand.' The poor man answered, 'I will do as you request, if you will be as good as your word.' Upon this Vitalis pledged himself on oath to do as he had promised. Whilst they were speaking, the lion by a bland movement of his tail, and the serpent by a gentle hissing, signified to the poor man their approbation, and seemed to join in Vitalis's request to be delivered. The poor man immediately went home for a ladder and ropes, with which he returned and let the ladder down into the pit, without anyone to help him. Immediately the lion and serpent, striving which should be first, mounted by the rounds of the ladder and gave thanks to the poor man, crouching at his feet, for their deliverance. The woodcutter, approaching Vitalis, kissed his hand, saying, 'Long live this hand! I am glad to say that I have earned my bargain,' and with these words he conducted Vitalis until they came to a road with which he was acquainted. When they parted, the poor man asked when and where Vitalis would discharge his promise. 'Within four days,' said Vitalis, 'in Venice, in my own palace, which is well known and easy to find.' The countryman returned home to dinner, and as he was sitting at table, the lion entered with a dead goat, as a present in return for his deliverance, and having laid it down, took his leave without doing any hurt. The countryman, however, wishing to see where so tame an animal lay, followed him to his den, the lion all the time licking his feet, and then came back to his dinner. The serpent now came also, and brought with him in his mouth a precious stone which he laid in the countryman's plate. The same proceedings again took place as before. After two or three days the rustic, carrying the jewel with him, went to Venice, to claim from Vitalis his promise. He found him feasting with his neighbors in joy for his deliverance and said to him, 'Friend, pay me what you owe me.' 'Who art thou!' replied Vitalis, 'and what dost thou want!' 'I want the five hundred talents you promised me.' 'Do you expect,' replied Vitalis, 'to get so easily the money which I have had so much difficulty to amass!' and, as he said these words, he ordered his servants to cast the rash man into prison. But the rustic by a sudden spring escaped out of the house and told what had happened to the judges of the city. When, however, they were a little incredulous, he showed them the jewel which the serpent had given him, and immediately one of them, perceiving that it was of great value, bought it of the man at a high price. But the countryman further proved the truth of his words by conducting some of the citizens to the dens of the lion and the serpent, when the animals again fawned on him as before. The judges were thus convinced of his truth, and compelled Vitalis to fulfil the promise which he had given, and to make compensation for the injury which he had done the poor man. This story was told by King Richard to expose the conduct of ungrateful men.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
505,Sila Tsarevich and Ivashka with the White Smock,Russia,NA,NA,"But Chotei said, 'My dear son, you are still young, and not used to the difficulties of traveling; remain at home, and think no more of this fancy you have taken.' But Sila Tsarevich had a great longing to see foreign lands, and entreated his father so much that at length the tsar consented, and gave him a ship likewise. As soon as the three brothers embarked, each on board his ship, they all gave orders to set sail. And when they were out on the open sea, the eldest brother's ship sailed first, the second brother's next, and Sila Tsarevich sailed last. On the third day of the voyage they saw a coffin with iron bands floating on the waves. The two eldest brothers sailed past without heeding it, but as soon as Sila Tsarevich saw the coffin, he ordered the sailors to pick it up, lay it on board his ship, and carry it to land. The next day a violent storm arose, by which Sila's ship was driven out of its course, and cast upon a steep shore in an unknown country. Then Sila ordered his sailors to take the coffin and to carry it on shore, whither he himself followed, and buried it in the earth. Thereupon Sila Tsarevich ordered the captain to remain upon the spot where the ship was stranded, and await his return for three years; but adding that, should he not come back in that time, he should be free to set sail and return home. So saying, Sila took leave of his captain and his crew, and went forthwith, journeying on and on. He wandered about for a long while, without seeing anyone; at length he heard a man running after him, dressed all in white. Then Sila Tsarevich turned round and saw the man following him; whereupon he instantly drew his sword to be upon his guard. But no sooner did the man come up to him than he fell on his knees and thanked Sila for having saved him. And Sila asked the man what he had done to deserve his thanks. Then the stranger stood up and answered, 'Ah, Sila Tsarevich, how can I thank you enough? There I lay in the coffin, which you picked up at sea and buried; and had it not been for you I might have remained floating about for a hundred years.' 'But how did you get into the coffin?' asked Sila. 'Listen, and I will tell you the whole story,' replied Ivashka. 'I was a great magician; my mother was told that I did great mischief to mankind by my arts, and therefore ordered me to be put into the coffin and set adrift on the open sea. For more than a hundred years I have been floating about, and no one has ever picked me up; but to you I owe my rescue, and I will therefore serve you, and render you all the help in my power. Let me ask you whether you have not a wish to marry. I know the beautiful Queen Truda, who is worthy of being your wife.' Sila replied that if this queen were indeed beautiful, he was willing to marry her; and Ivashka told him she was the most beautiful woman in the world. When Sila heard this, he begged Ivashka to accompany him to her kingdom. So they set out and traveled on and on till they reached that country. Now, Queen Truda's kingdom was surrounded by a palisade; and upon every stake was stuck a man's head, except one, which had no head. When Sila saw this, he was terrified, and asked Ivashka what it meant; and Ivashka told him that these were the heads of heroes who had been suitors to Queen Truda. Sila shuddered on hearing this, and wished to return home without showing himself to the father of Truda. But Ivashka told him to fear nothing and go with him boldly, so Sila went on. When they entered the kingdom, Ivashka said, 'Hearken Sila Tsarevich, I will be your servant, and when you enter the royal halls, salute King Salom humbly. Then he will ask you whence you came, and whose son you are, what is your name and business. Tell him everything and conceal nothing; but say that you are come to sue for his daughter's hand. He will give her to you with great joy.' So Sila Tsarevich went into the palace, and, as soon as Prince Salom saw him, he went himself to meet him, took him by his white hands, led him into the marble halls, and asked him, 'Fair youth, from what country do you come, whose son are you, what is your name, and what is your business?' 'I am from the kingdom of my father the Tsar Chotei,' replied Sila. 'My name is Sila Tsarevich, and I am come to sue for your daughter, the beautiful Queen Truda.' King Salom was overjoyed that the son of such a renowned tsar should be his son-in-law, and immediately ordered his daughter to prepare for the wedding. And when the day for the marriage came, the king commanded all his princes and boyars to assemble in the palace; and they all went in procession to the church, and Sila Tsarevich was married to the fair Queen Truda. Then they returned to the palace, seated themselves at table, and feasted and made merry. When the time came to retire to rest, Ivashka took Sila aside and whispered to him, 'Hark, ye, Sila Tsarevich, when you go to rest, beware lest you speak a word to your bride or you will not remain alive, and your head will be stuck on the last stake. She will in every way try to make you embrace her, but attend to what I say.' Then Sila Tsarevich enquired why he warned him thus, and Ivashka replied, 'She is in league with an evil spirit, who comes to her every night in the shape of a man, but flies through the air in the shape of a six-headed dragon. Now, if she lays her hand upon your breast and presses it, jump up and beat her with a stick until all her strength is gone. I will meanwhile remain on watch at the door of your apartment.' When Sila Tsarevich heard this, he went with his wife to rest, and Queen Truda tried in every way to get him to kiss her, but Sila lay quite still and spoke not a word. Then Truda laid her hand upon his breast and pressed him so hard that he could scarcely breathe. But up jumped Sila Tsarevich and seized the stick which Ivashka had laid there ready for him, and fell to beating her as hard as he could. On a sudden there arose a storm, and a six-headed dragon came flying into the room and was going to devour Sila Tsarevich, but Ivashka seized a sharp sword and attacked the dragon, and they fought three hours, and Ivashka struck off two of the dragon's heads, whereupon the monster flew away. Then Ivashka desired Sila Tsarevich to go to sleep and fear nothing. Sila obeyed him, laid himself down, and fell asleep. Early in the morning King Salom went to be informed whether his dear son still lived, and when he heard that Sila was alive and well, the king rejoiced, since he was the first who had been saved from his daughter; and he instantly ordered Sila to be called, and the whole day was spent in merrymaking. The following night Ivashka gave Sila Tsarevich the same caution as before, not to speak a word to his wife, and he placed himself on watch at the door. Then it fell out as before, and when Sila Tsarevich began to beat the queen, on a sudden the dragon came flying in, and was going to devour Sila Tsarevich. But Ivashka rushed from behind the door, sword in hand, and fought with the dragon and struck off two more of his heads. Then the dragon flew away, and Sila Tsarevich lay down to sleep. Early in the morning the king commanded Sila to be invited, and they spent this day in the same pleasures as before. The third night the same happened again, and Ivashka cut off the last two heads of the dragon, and he burnt all the heads and strewed the ashes in the fields. Thus time passed on, and Sila Tsarevich lived with his father-in-law a whole year, without speaking to his wife or gaining her love. Then Ivashka told him one day to go to King Salom and ask permission to return to his native country. So Sila went to the king, who dismissed him, and gave him two squadrons of his army to accompany him as an escort. Then Sila took leave of his father-in-law, and set out with his wife on their journey to his own country. When they had gone half way, Ivashka told Sila Tsarevich to halt and pitch his tent. So Sila obeyed and ordered the tent to be put up. The next day Ivashka laid pieces of wood in front of Sila's tent and set fire to them. Then he led Queen Truda out of the tent, unsheathed his sword, and cut her in twain. Sila Tsarevich shuddered with terror and began to weep; but Ivashka said, 'Weep not, she will come to life again.' And presently all sorts of evil things came forth from the body, and Ivashka threw them all into the fire. Then he said to Sila Tsarevich, 'See you not the evil spirits which troubled your wife? She is now relieved from them.' And, so saying, he laid the parts of Truda's body together, sprinkled them with the water of life, and the queen was instantly sound and whole as before. Then said Ivashka, 'Now, farewell, Sila Tsarevich, you will find that your wife loves you truly, but you will never see me more.' And so saying he vanished. Sila Tsarevich ordered the tent to be struck, and journeyed on to his native country. And when he came to the place where his ship was waiting for him, he went onboard with the fair Queen Truda, dismissed the escort which accompanied him, and set sail. And on arriving at his own kingdom, he was welcomed with salvos of cannon, and Tsar Chotei came out of his palace and took him and the beautiful Queen Truda by their lily-white hands, led them into the marble halls, placed them at table, and they feasted and made merry. Sila Tsarevich lived with his father two years. Then he returned to the kingdom of King Salom, received from him the crown, and ruled over the country with his Queen Truda in great love and happiness.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
505,The Three Pennies,Denmark,NA,NA,"The soldier stopped, looked at them, and said, 'Where are you going?' 'I will tell you,' answered one of them. 'Today there was buried a man who owed each of us one penny, and now we will dig him up, since we are determined upon getting our dues.' 'What an idea!' returned the soldier. 'You had better leave the dead man alone. At any rate, he is at present unable to pay you even one penny, so don't disturb his peace!' 'It is all very fine for you to talk,' answered the man. 'But we must have the money, and up he must come.' When the soldier felt that his fair words could not settle the matter, he said, 'Here, I have two pennies. Will you take them and promise to leave the dead man undisturbed?' 'Two pennies are not to be refused,' said the man again, 'but they will pay only two of us. What can you give the third one, since he is bent upon having his share?' As the soldier saw that there was no dealing with these three wretches, he resumed, 'Since you are so desperately determined, here is my third and last penny. Take it, and be content.' Now all three were well satisfied, so they pursued their way with the three pennies in their pockets. When the soldier had advanced a distance, a stranger came walking along. He looked rather pale, but saluted the soldier in a very civil manner, and followed him along the road without uttering a single sound. At last they reached a church, and here the stranger turned to his companion, saying, 'Let us walk in!' The soldier looked wistfully at him, and answered, 'That would not do. What business have we in the church at midnight?' 'I tell you,' replied the stranger, 'we must walk in!' Upon this they entered the church and walked straight up to the altar. There was an old woman sitting with a burning light in her hand. 'Take a hair from her head, and smell at it!' commanded the stranger. The soldier complied, but nothing remarkable happened. The stranger asked him to repeat the action, which he did; but there was no effect. The third time, however, when he tore a whole tuft of hair from the woman's head, she became so furious that she darted off, out above the church, carrying the whole leaden vault with her. The two men went out of the church and down to the beach, where they found the whole leaden vault. Turning to the soldier, the stranger said, 'Sit up. We will put to sea!' 'Is that so?' remarked the soldier, who understood nothing of all this. 'I see no ship, however.' 'Let me manage it all,' says the stranger. 'Just seat yourself by me on the vault! Beyond the sea there is a princess of whom it was predicted that she would be married only to a man who should come across the sea in a leaden ship. Here you will be able to make your fortune.' The leaden vault now floated out upon the open sea, and landed them safely on the other side. Great was the joy and happiness throughout the country, and the marriage between the soldier and the princess was celebrated with such pomp and splendor as was never seen, before or after. When the ceremony had been performed, and the carriage was standing in front of the church door, bride and groom entered, with the stranger who had followed the soldier all along. The coachman asked to what place he might drive them. 'Drive away, as fast as you can, towards the side where the sun will rise,' said the stranger, and in a little while they were carried along at a furious rate. Somewhere they saw a large herd of cattle. They stopped, and the soldier called the herdsman to the carriage door, asking who he was. 'I am the Count of Ravensburg,' answered the shepherd, 'and yonder is my castle.' The stranger again bid the coachman drive as fast as possible. In a little while they rushed up to Ravensburg Castle. As they were ready to alight from the carriage, there was someone who knocked hard at the gate. It was the herdsman, who was anxious to come in. The stranger walked to the gate, inquiring what, he could do for him. He wished to come into the castle, he said, for it belonged to him, and he had a right to demand admittance. The stranger meditated a little, whereupon he told the herdsman, who was a conjurer, that he might be allowed to come in, but first he must suffer the whole fate of the rye. 'The fate of the rye!' repeated the conjurer. 'What do you mean by that?' 'I mean,' answered the stranger, 'that next fall you must be sown deep in the ground, and towards spring, when you come up, you must ripen in the sunshine and grow in the rain until you are ready for the harvest. Then you will be mowed and dried, and kept in the barn, until at length you will be threshed.' 'How is that!' cried the conjurer. 'Am I to be threshed?' 'Of course you are,' replied the stranger. 'First you will be threshed, and then taken to the mill and ground.' 'Ground, too!' shouted the conjurer. 'Will I be ground also?' 'Yes, both ground and sifted,' answered the stranger. But the conjurer, hearing this, became so furious that he burst all into flint-stones. The stranger now bid good-bye to the princess and the soldier, shook hands with them, and said, 'Now I have seen you married to the princess. The troll of Ravensburg is dead and gone, and his castle, with all its treasures, is yours. I was as good to you as you were to me when you gave away your three pennies for my sake!' 'What do you say?' exclaimed the soldier. 'I never thought of those three pennies again!' 'I know that,' answered the stranger, 'and otherwise I would not have been able to help you. However, I bid farewell to you and your, wife, for I must return to the place where I belong.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
68A,Capturing Monkeys,India,NA,"Edmund Francis Burton, Reminiscences of Sport in India (London: W. H. Allen and Company, 1885), p. 123.","The mango trees [at Muddunpillay] were the resort of a great colony of monkeys, and we were told that the natives had caught many of them by placing on the ground coconuts in which holes had been cut, and which they had half filled with grain. These holes were only just large enough to admit the monkey's open hand. It was said that when Jockoo had grasped a good fistful of grain and could not withdraw it, the natives rushed out from an ambush close by, threw a cumbly (native blanket) over his head, and captured him, as he could not draw out his fist full, and would not let go his lawful prize of grain! This is the story as told to us; but, in the interests of my veracity, I must say that we did not ourselves see the thing done.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
68A,The Boy and the Filberts,Aesop,NA,"Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann, 1912), p. 61.","A boy put his hand into a jar of filberts and grasped as many as his fist could possibly hold. But when he tried to pull it out again, he found he couldn't do so, for the neck of the jar was too small to allow of the passage of so large a handful. Unwilling to lose his nuts but unable to withdraw his hand, he burst into tears. A bystander, who saw where the trouble lay, said to him, 'Come, my boy, don't be so greedy. Be content with half the amount, and you'll be able to get your hand out without difficulty.' Do not attempt too much at once. (London: W. Heinemann, 1912), p. 61.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
68A,The Greedy Monkey,Pakistan,NA,"Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 4, p. 7.","Once upon a time a monkey noticed some wheat which had fallen into a small hollow in a rock. Thrusting in his hand, he filled it with the grain, but the entrance was so narrow that he was unable to draw it out without relinquishing most of his prize. This, however, he was unwilling to do, greedily desiring to have it all. So the consequence was that he remained without any, and finally went hungry away. Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 4, p. 7.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
68A,The Monkey and the Nuts,"USA, Ambrose Bierce",NA,"Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), pp. 193-94.","A certain city desiring to purchase a site for a public deformatory procured an appropriation from the government of the country. Deeming this insufficient for purchase of the site and payment of reasonable commissions to themselves, the men in charge of the matter asked for a larger sum, which was readily given. Believing that the fountain could not be dipped dry, they applied for still more and more yet. Wearied at last by their importunities, the government said it would be damned if it gave anything. So it gave nothing and was damned all the harder.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,A Child's Hand That Wrongly Attacked a Mother Grows Out of the Grave,Friederich Wagenfeld,NA,"Friederich Wagenfeld, 'Kindeshand, die sich an der Mutter vergreift, wächst zum Grabe heraus,' Bremer Volkssagen, 2nd ed., edited by Karl Eichwald (Bremen: Verlag von Karl Tannen, 1878), no. 2, pp. 9-13. First published 1845 in Bremen.","In the beginning of the fourteenth century a poor widow lived just outside the Doven Gate [in Bremen] in the vicinity of Jodenberg. She occupied a cottage that had been given to her by the wealthy Frau Schwanke, the wife of Conrad von Verden. For many long years she had served Frau Schwanke's parents as a faithful and industrious maid, and for this reason Frau Schwanke provided her with various means of support, even in her old age. To be sure, the old widow had a daughter who was married to a wealthy tanner in the city, but the daughter had a hard and proud personality, and when the council at that time gave tanners the right to have their own guild in the future, the devil of arrogance so overcame the tanner-master's wife that she became ashamed of her mother, and in the end she even forbade her to enter her house. The old woman was slow and frail, and she could no longer manage to provide for herself, even by spinning. She would have perished had it not been for the help of others. But this help came to a terrible end when Conrad von Verden, who together with his wealthy cousins had committed a number of acts of violence, was driven from the city along with all of his relatives. The old woman could no longer take her pot to Frau Schwanke to get leftovers from their noon meal, as she had been accustomed to do for a year and a day. Bitter necessity now drove her to turn to her daughter for charity. It was a difficult step for her. With a shaking hand she reached for the staff which for a long time now she had been forced to rely on to support her unsteady gait. Underway she stopped several times. She feared an angry confrontation with her daughter, and reflected if it would not be better to take her problems to someone other than her own child. Suddenly she found herself standing in front of her son-in-law's house. She hesitated another moment, then took courage and stepped inside. 'After all, she is my daughter, my only child,' she murmured quietly to herself. 'God and Saint Willhadus will soften her harshness.' She entered the parlor, where the entire family had gathered to eat their noon meal. At first she was very embarrassed, standing there in her poor clothing surrounded by expensive household furnishings and utensils, and she struggled unsuccessfully for words with which to express her plea. Having collected herself somewhat, she most movingly described in simple and unassuming language the hopelessness of her plight. Tears came to her son-in-law's eyes, but he was a weak man who was completely dominated by his wife, and for nothing in the world would he have made an independent decision, directed only by his heart. He would have taken the helpless old woman into his house with pleasure, if it had depended upon him alone. But as it was, he cast a questioning glance toward his wife to assure himself of her approval. Fear overcame him when he saw her face. It was nothing new for him that she should become angry, even in unimportant matters, but never before had he seen such fury, such an ugly distortion of her features. It was as though upon the sight of her mother she had become possessed of an evil spirit. The redness of her raging anger gave way to a corpse-like paleness. With sparking animal-like eyes she appeared to want to penetrate the being to whom she owed her life and existence and who had protected her with maternal nurture in her youth and had cared for her in sickness. Terrified, the old woman looked around for a chair, for her strength threatened to leave her. For a moment the man's human feelings overcame his fear of his wife, and he rushed forward to catch the half-unconscious woman. Until now the tanner-master's wife had sat there quietly without saying a word, or without even moving. But now her anger suddenly exploded like a crashing thunder-storm that had been threatening in the skies for some time. With superhuman strength she pushed her husband aside and like a wild animal threw herself furiously at her own mother, in order to punish her for having dared to come here, although she had been expressly forbidden to do so. Striking at her with her fists, she finally drove her out of the parlor door. The old woman lay on the hallway floor with her face to the ground. She did not move, and the daughter's demands that she stand up were in vain. The daughter's unnatural anger suddenly dissipated at this pitiful sight. It was as though a curtain had been drawn from her eyes and that she could finally see whom she had directed her blind fury against. 'Mother!' she cried, horrified at what she had done. 'Forgive me! Come to your sinful and repentant daughter. Before God and all the saints, if the most tender attention and the most loving care can erase this terrible sin from your memory, then you shall forget it.' Gripped by the deepest sympathy, she bent over the unfortunate woman in order to lift her up. She wanted never again to be separated from her, never again to cause her concern. But this change of disposition came too late, and with horror she saw that she was wasting her loving caresses on a corpse. The tanner-master's wife was spared by an earthly judge, for it was determined that the old woman did not die only as a result of the attack, but even more from fear and terror. But there is also a judge who dwells above the clouds who does not make his determinations according to earthly expectations and sophistry. The tanner-master's wife died suddenly thereafter, and a few days after her burial, the gravedigger noticed with horror that the buried woman's hands -- with which she had attacked her mother -- were extending from the grave. And this miracle can be seen to this day, eternalized in stone in the ambulatory of the cathedral.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,A Hand Grows from the Grave (Baader),Bernard Baader,"I have arbitrarily assigned the male gender to the deceased child. Baader's text uses the pronoun es, which can be either male or female.","Bernhard Baader, Volkssagen aus dem Lande Baden und den angrenzenden Gegenden (Karlsruhe: Verlag der Herder'schen Buchhandlung, 1851), no. 354, p. 319.","About four hundred years ago in Heidelberg it happened that a hand grew out of the grave of a newly buried child, who was eight years old. In response to this miracle the clergy conducted prayers and processions and investigated the child's life, discovering that he had often struck his parents. His mother was now sentenced to make up for the delayed discipline. She was required to beat the child's hand thoroughly with a thick switch, and after she had done this for a time, the hand withdrew back into the grave and stayed there from that time forth.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,A Hand Grows from the Grave (Kuhn),A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz,NA,"'Hand wächst aus dem Grabe,' A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen, aus dem Munde des Volkes gesammelt (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), no. 46, pp. 44-45.","However often they reburied it, it always reappeared. Finally they beat it with a switch, thinking that it would then return to beneath the earth, but that did not help. Therefore they chopped off the hand, put the switch in its fist, and placed it in the church at Lunow as an eternal warning to godless children.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,A Hand Grows from the Grave: Three Legends from Mecklenburg,Karl Bartsch,Legend 1 was recorded in Low German; legends 2 and 3 in High German. The gender of the child in Legend 2 cannot be determined from the original text.,"Karl Bartsch, Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), vol. 1, pp. 459-460.","A girl abused her parents, and even struck her mother so hard that the mother died of the consequences. Soon after the mother's death, the girl herself died. She had lain in the grave for only a few days when her wicked hand emerged. The villagers beat it with whips and a few times it withdrew back beneath the earth. Finally, because it ceased retreating from the whips' blows, they chopped it off. It is preserved even to this day. The flesh has dried firmly onto the bones, and the entire hand has a black appearance.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,A Mother Disciplines Her Deceased Child,"Switzerland, Franz Niderberger",The narrator in this legend refers to the child with the personal pronoun 'es.' Thus the child could be either a girl or a boy.,"Franz Niderberger, Sagen und Gebräuche aus Unterwalden (Sarnen, 1924), pp. 183-184.","In a house in Obwalden there once lived an eight or nine year old child who was very disobedient and rebellious. The mother recognized her child's stubbornness but could not find it in her heart to discipline him. Thus this child lived for some time and did many bad things. Then he took sick and died. After the burial the child broke through his coffin and stuck his right arm out of the grave, causing fear and amazement among the people. The parents attempted everything to get their child to pull his arm back, but nothing helped. Finally someone said to the deeply concerned parents, 'You spared the rod too much. As punishment for this, the mother must go to the grave every day and beat the hand with a switch until he pulls it back.' The mother did this, and this course of action brought the desired results.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,The Hand in Mellenthin,A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz,NA,"A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräche aus Meklenburg, Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen, aus dem Munde des Volkes gesammelt (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), no. 28, pp. 22-23.","In Mellenthin there was once a girl who, while she was still alive, always struck her mother, and after she died, her hand came out of her grave. However often the Mellenthin peasants reburied it, it came out again. Finally they cut it off, and since the Mellenthin church was just being built, they put a stone behind the altar, and laid the hand under it, and it is lying there still. Gebräche aus Meklenburg, Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen, aus dem Munde des Volkes gesammelt (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), no. 28, pp. 22-23.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,The Hand on the Grave,J. D. H. Temme Exodus XX,"According to Temme, this legend also was told frequently in Szamaiten and in Poland. The inscription on the tablet rhymes in the original German.","'Die Hand auf dem Grabe,' J. D. H. Temme, Die Volkssagen der Altmark, mit einem Anhange von Sagen aus den übrigen Marken und aus dem Magdeburgischen (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1839), no. 56, pp. 48-49.","In the village church at Groß-Redensleben, one hour from Seehausen, immediately inside the entrance, on the left side of the door hanging on a stone pillar there is a wooden tablet, painted black, and with the following inscription: Behold, thou wicked child What is here displayed: A hand that does not decay, For he, whose hand it was, Was a wayward child, Such as exist even today. This son struck his father, And he has as a reward, That his hand is hanging here. Guard thyself from such shame. On the tablet's edge, encircling the inscription, are the words: Thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. Beneath the tablet there is an iron chain, about a half yard long, from which is hanging a human hand, which was cut off at its root. Its color is ashen gray; its skin and flesh are totally dry. The following legend is told about it: Before the Thirty Years' War there lived in Groß-Rebensleben a pious man who had a very wayward son. This son not only ridiculed his father's admonitions, but his belligerence went so far that he abused his own father. Once he even lifted his hand against him as the father was praying to God for his repentance. And it came to pass that the wayward son suddenly fell dead to the earth, as a visible sign that Heaven would not allow his wickedness to go unpunished. He was buried the next day, and then an even greater miracle occurred. Suddenly a hand appeared from the grave, the same hand with which he had struck his father, as if it could find no rest beneath the earth. All who saw this happen fled in terror, and no one dared return to the churchyard, for the hand did not return to beneath the earth. It was a gruesome sight, the way it extended from the grave, stiff, pale, cold, and silent, but still an articulate witness as to how the Lord punishes sin. At last the authorities ordered that the hand be whipped with switches, in belief that such a punishment would suffice and would lead to redemption. The order was carried out, and the hand bled until the earth turned red, but it would not return to the grave. Then they had it chopped off and hung it in the church with the tablet described above so that it could serve as a lesson for future generations. der Altmark, mit einem Anhange von Sagen aus den übrigen Marken und aus dem Magdeburgischen (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1839), no. 56, pp. 48-49. According to Temme, this legend also was told frequently in Szamaiten and in Poland.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,The Hand That Grew from the Grave,J. G. Th. Grässe,"Danzig is the German name for Gdansk, a Baltic seaport in Poland, but formerly belonging to Prussia. I have arbitrarily assigned the male gender to the deceased child. Grässe's text uses the pronoun es, which can be either male or female.","J. G. Th. Grässe, 'Hand aus dem Grabe gewachsen,' Sagenbuch des preußischen Staats, vol. 2 (Glogau: Verlag von Carl Flemming, 1871), no. 607, p. 582).","In Danzig a child struck his mother. He died soon afterward and took the curse of this act with him to his grave. As punishment his hand soon afterward grew out of the grave. A large stone lay on the grave, and his fingers forced themselves into it. This stone, with traces of the five fingers, can still be seen the Parish Church in a chapel not far from the alter. Sagenbuch des preußischen Staats, vol. 2 (Glogau: Verlag von Carl Flemming, 1871), no. 607, p. 582). formerly belonging to Prussia. Grässe's text uses the pronoun es, which can be either male or",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,The Parent Murderer of Salzwedel,J. D. H. Temme,"This legend does not contain the 'hand from the grave' motif that is central to the other accounts in this group. It does, however, bear a strong resemblance, both in content and in tone, to those stories.","'Der Elternmörder in Salzwedel,' J. D. H. Temme, Die Volkssagen der Altmark, mit einem Anhange von Sagen aus den übrigen Marken und aus dem Mageburgischen (Berlin: in der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1839), p. 32.","More than two hundred years ago, it was on April 15, 1614, that a horrible murder was committed in the old part of Salzwedel just off the street leading to Saint Ann's Convent, that formerly stood there. A merchant's servant by the name of Dietrich Schulze stabbed his father and his mother to death. He stabbed the father four times, and when the mother came to the father's aid, he stabbed her three times. He was sentenced to die, and the sentence was carried out on the fourth of May of the same year. First his right hand, with which he had committed the horrible deed, was cut off. Then he was tortured three times with red-hot pincers, first in the marketplace, second in front of the house where the murder was committed, and finally in the tower itself. Then he was dragged to the place of execution and placed on the wheel upside down, half sitting and half lying. It was miraculous and horrible to see how the hand with which he had committed this terrible deed continued to bleed for three days on the wheel.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,The Willful Child,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,NA,"Das eigensinnige Kind, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 117.","Once upon a time there was a child who was willful and did not do what his mother wanted. For this reason God was displeased with him and caused him to become ill, and no doctor could help him, and in a short time he lay on his deathbed. He was lowered into a grave and covered with earth, but his little arm suddenly came forth and reached up, and it didn't help when they put it back in and put fresh earth over it, for the little arm always came out again. So the mother herself had to go to the grave and beat the little arm with a switch, and as soon as she had done that, it withdrew, and the child finally came to rest beneath the earth. Kind, Kinder- und Hausmärchen",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
779,The Withered Hand in the Church at Bergen,A. Haas,"Bergen is a city on the German island of Rügen in the Baltic Sea. Haas states that a similar legend is told of two wayward children in Stettin, whose hands are kept at the Peter's and Paul's Church in that city.","A. Haas, Rügensche Sagen und Märchen (Stettin: Johs. Burmeister's Buchhandlung, 1903), no. 212, p. 196.","A withered hand was kept in the church at Bergen into the first half of nineteenth century. It came from a father murderer. After the murderer's death, the hand is said to have emerged from the grave. However often they reburied the hand, it always came out again, until finally they chopped it off and put it in the church. Punishment such as this always befalls those who raise a hand against their own parents. (Stettin: Johs. Burmeister's Buchhandlung, 1903), no. 212, p. 196. Sea. Stettin, whose hands are kept at the Peter's and Paul's Church in that city.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,Spell and Counter-Spell,Germany,"Kuhn's source: 'From Hemer, submitted by [Friedrich Leopold] Woeste.' Footnote by Kuhn: 'With the hand of an unbaptized child thieves can open locks and enter houses without being noticed. (Montanus, p. 88)'","Adalbert Kuhn, 'Zauber und Gegenzauber,' Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen vol. 1 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), no. 149d, pp. 145-46.","At first the woman did not want to take him in, but finally she agreed to do so, when the old man said, 'Madame, I am a poor and unassuming man, but you cannot know how I can help you if you allow me to stay here.' During the night when everyone in the house was asleep, the old man was still lying awake in the loft when he heard footsteps in the entryway. Thinking that this was suspicious, he krept from his bed in the hay and saw below him three pitch-black fellows with unusual candles in their hands moving about the main room. The old man immediately knew what was happening. The black companions were intent on robbery. Their candles were the toes of unborn children, and as long as they were burning everyone would remain in the deepest sleep -- a spell which the robbers themselves as well as our old man were protected against through a counter-spell. While the black fellows were busy emptying trunks and chests the old man quietly climbed down the ladder, found the thieves and murmured a charm that held them all fast. Then he extinguished their candles and woke the woman and the servants. They came with lights. 'Madame,' said the old man, 'have these fellows washed up so we can see their actual faces.' This was done, and the widow did not believe her eyes when the layer of soot was removed, revealing her brothers-in-law. 'My good man,' she said to the old man, 'you captured these, my dear relatives, and you will be able to release them as well. Please do so! They will thank you and do us no more harm.' The old man released them with a charm, and the widow told her brothers-in-law to be on their way. Deeply shamed, they crept away.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,The Finger of Sin,Poland,"Hinterpommern (also known in English as Farther Pomerania or Eastern Pomerania), a region east of the Oder River, is in present-day Poland.","Otto Knoop, 'Der Sündenfinger,' Blätter für pommersche Volkskunde, vol. 1 (Stettin: Johs. Burmeister's Buchhandlung, 1893), p. 64.","A merchant in a town in Hinterpommern had a finger of sin (a finger from an executed person) hidden in the container used to dispense alcohol. Because of this customers streamed to him in great numbers, and his business thrived. While cleaning the cask a servant noticed the chalk-white and bleached-out finger and reported his master to the authorities. The latter was severely punished, and the finger was confiscated from him. After having completed his prison sentence the merchant attempted to reestablish his business, but luck was not with him. Customers stayed away, and he had to make his living through begging.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,The Hand of Glory (Baring-Gould),Sabine Baring-Gould,This piece is extracted from a larger chapter entitled 'Schamir.',"Sabine Baring-Gould, Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, new edition (London, Oxford, and Cambridge: Rivingtons, 1873), pp. 405-410.","Observe the use of this herb: The hand of glory is used to hold this candle when it is lighted. Douster Swivel, in The Antiquary [by Sir Walter Scott] adds, 'You do make a candle, and put into de hand of glory at de proper hour and minute, with de proper ceremonisth; and he who seeksh for treasuresh shall find none at all!' [Robert] Southey places it in the hands of the enchanter Mohareb, when he would lull to sleep Yohak, the giant guardian of the caves of Babylon. He -- One dark night, after the house had been closed, there came a tap at the door of a lone inn, in the midst of a barren moor. The door was opened, and there stood without, shivering and shaking, a poor beggar, his rags soaked with rain, and his hands white with cold. He asked piteously for a lodging, and it was cheerfully granted him; though there was not a spare bed in the house, he might lie along on the mat before the kitchen fire, and welcome. All in the house went to bed except the servant lassie, who from the kitchen could see into the large room through a small pane of glass let into the door. When everyone save the beggar was out of the room, she observed the man draw himself up from the floor, seat himself at the table, extract a brown withered human hand from his pocket, and set it upright in the candlestick; he then anointed the fingers, and, applying a match to them, they began to flame. Filled with horror, the girl rushed up the back stairs, and endeavored to arouse her master and the men of the house; but all in vain, they slept a charmed sleep; and finding all her efforts ineffectual, she hastened downstairs again. Looking again through the small window, she observed the fingers of the hand flaming, but the thumb gave no light: this was because one of the inmates of the house was not asleep. The beggar began collecting all the valuables of the house into a large sack -- no lock withstood the application of the flaming hand. Then, putting it down, the man entered an adjoining apartment. The moment he was gone, the girl rushed in, and seizing the hand, attempted to extinguish the quivering yellow flames, which wavered at the fingers' ends. She blew at them in vain; she poured some drops from a beer-jug over them, but that only made the fingers burn the brighter; she cast some water upon them, but still without extinguishing the light. As a last resource, she caught up a jug of milk, and dashing it over the four lambent flames, they went out immediately. Uttering a piercing cry, she rushed to the door of the room the beggar had entered, and locked it. The whole house was aroused, and the thief was secured and hung. We must not forget Tom [Thomas] Ingoldsby's rendering of a similar legend: Now lock, nor bolt, nor bar avails, Nor stout oak panel thick-studded with nails. Heavy and harsh the hinges creak, Though they had been oil'd in the course of the week. The door opens wide as wide may be, And there they stand, That murderous band, Lit by the light of the Glorious Hand, By one! -- by two! -- by three! It bursts locks, and shatters stones, it opens in the mountains the hidden treasures hitherto concealed from men, or it paralyzes, lulling into a magic sleep, or, again, it restores to life.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,The Hand of Glory (Grose),"France, Germany, and Spain",NA,"Francis Grose, A Provincial Glossary, with a Collection of Local Proverbs, and Popular Superstitions, new edition (London: S. Hooper, 1787), pp. 73-75.","Take the hand, left or right, of a person hanged, and exposed on the highway; wrap it up in a piece of a shroud, or winding sheet, in which let it be well squeezed, to get out any small quantity of blood that may have remained in it; then put it into an earthen vessel, with zimat, saltpeter, salt, and long pepper, the whole well powdered; leave if fifteen days in that vessel; afterwards take it out, and expose it to the noontide sun in the dog days, till it is thoroughly dry; and if the sun is not sufficient, put it into an oven heated with fern and vervain; then compose a kind of candle with the fat of a hanged man, virgin wax, and sisame [sesame] of Lapland. The hand of glory is used as a candlestick to hold this candle, when lighted. Its properties are, that wheresoever anyone goes with this dreadful instrument, the persons to whom it is presented will be deprived of all power of motion. On being asked if there was no remedy, or antidote, to counteract this charm, they said the hand of glory would cease to take effect, and thieves could not make use of it, if the threshold of the door of the house, and other places by which they might enter, were anointed with an unguent composed of the gall of a black cat, the fat of a white hen, and the blood of a screech owl; which mixture must necessarily be prepared during the dog days.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,The Hand of Glory (Hartland),England,"Hartland's source for narrative 1 is: William Henderson, Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders, (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1879), pp. 241-42. Hartland's source for narrative 2 is S. Baring-Gould.","Edwin Sidney Hartland, English Folk and other Fairy Tales (London: Walter Scott Publishing Company, [1906]), pp. 196-99.","One evening, between the years 1790 and 1800, a traveler, dressed in woman's clothes, arrived at the Old Spital Inn, the place where the mail coach changed horses, in High Spital, on Bowes Moor. The traveler begged to stay all night, but had to go away so early in the morning that if a mouthful of food were set ready for breakfast there was no need the family should be disturbed by her departure. The people of the house, however, arranged that a servant maid should sit up till the stranger was out of the premises, and then went to bed themselves. The girl lay down for a nap on the longsettle by the fire, but before she shut her eyes she took a good look at the traveler, who was sitting on the opposite side of the hearth, and espied a pair of man's trousers peeping out from under the gown. All inclination for sleep was now gone; however, with great self-command, she feigned it, closed her eyes, and even began to snore. On this the traveler got up, pulled out of his pocket a dead man's hand, fitted a candle to it, lighted the candle, and passed hand and candle several times before the servant girl's face, saying as he did so: 'Let all those who are asleep be asleep, and let those who are awake be awake.' This done, he placed the light on the table, opened the outer door, went down two or three of the steps which led from the house to the road, and began to whistle for his companions. The girl (who had hitherto had presence of mind enough to remain perfectly quiet) now jumped up, rushed behind the ruffian, and pushed him down the steps. She then shut the door, locked it, and ran upstairs to try and wake the family, but without success: calling, shouting, and shaking were alike in vain. The poor girl was in despair, for she heard the traveler and his comrades outside the house. So she ran down again, and seized a bowl of blue (i.e., skimmed milk), and threw it over the hand and candle; after which she went upstairs again, and awoke the sleepers without any difficulty. The landlord's son went to the window, and asked the men outside what they wanted. They answered that if the dead man's hand were but given them, they would go away quietly, and do no harm to anyone. This he refused, and fired among them, and the shot must have taken effect, for in the morning stains of blood were traced to a considerable distance. These circumstances were related to my informant, Mr. Charles Wastell, in the spring of 1861, by an old woman named Bella Parkin, who resided close to High Spital, and was actually the daughter of the courageous servant girl. Two magicians, having come to lodge in a public house with a view to robbing it, asked permission to pass the night by the fire, and obtained it. When the house was quiet, the servant girl, suspecting mischief, crept downstairs and looked through the keyhole. She saw the men open a sack, and take out a dry, withered hand. They anointed the fingers with some unguent, and lighted them. Each finger flamed, but the thumb they could not light; that was because one of the household was not asleep. The girl hastened to her master, but found it impossible to arouse him. She tried every other sleeper, but could not break the charmed sleep. At last, stealing down into the kitchen, while the thieves were busy over her master's strongbox, she secured the hand, blew out the flames, and at once the whole household was aroused. One dark night, when all was shut up, there came a tap at the door of a lone inn in the middle of a barren moor. The door was opened, and there stood without, shivering and shaking, a poor beggar, his rags soaked with rain, and his hand white with cold. He asked piteously for a lodging, and it was cheerfully granted him; there was not a spare bed in the house, but he could lie on the mat before the kitchen fire, and welcome. So this was settled, and everyone in the house went to bed except the cook, who from the back kitchen could see into the large room through a pane of glass let into the door. She watched the beggar, and saw him, as soon as he was left alone, draw himself up from the floor, seat himself at the table, extract from his pocket a brown withered human hand, and set it upright in the candlestick. He then anointed the fingers, and applying a match to them, they began to flame. Filled with horror, the cook rushed up the back stairs, and endeavored to arouse her master and the men of the house. But all was in vain--they slept a charmed sleep; so in despair she hastened down again, and placed herself at her post of observation. She saw the fingers of the hand flaming, but the thumb remained unlighted, because one inmate of the house was awake. The beggar was busy collecting the valuables around him into a large sack, and having taken all he cared for in the large room, he entered another. On this the woman ran in, and, seizing the light, tried to extinguish the flames. But this was not so easy. She blew at them, but they burnt on as before. She poured the dregs of a beer jug over them, but they blazed up the brighter. As a last resource, she caught up a jug of milk, and dashed it over the four lambent flames, and they died out at once. Uttering a loud cry, she rushed to the door of the apartment the beggar had entered, and locked it. The whole family was aroused, and the thief easily secured and hanged. This tale is told in Northumberland.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,The Hands of Unbaptized Children,Switzerland,Rothenbach's sources: Jakob Ryser and Friedrich Stettler.,"J. E. Rothenbach, Volksthümliches aus dem Kanton Bern: Localsagen und Satzungen des Aberglaubens (Zürich: Verlag von Cäsar Schmidt, 1876), pp. 11-12.","The body of a deceased, unbaptized child should be buried at night so that no one will know where the grave is. The hands of such children can open any lock. Furthermore, a thief who possesses the hand from such a corpse can tell whether anyone is awake in a house that he intends to rob. He has only to light the fingers. If they all burn then everyone in the house is asleep, and will no awaken as long as the fingers are burning. The number of fingers not burning shows how many of the house's inhabitants are awake.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,The Inn of Spital on Stanmore,England,"This tale is part of a longer narrative, and does not have a title.","Thomas and Katharine Macquoid, About Yorkshire (London: Chatto and Windus, 1883), pp. 65-70.","One cold October night the red curtains were drawn across the windows, and a huge log fire sputtered and crackled on the broad hearth, and lighted up the faces of George Alderson and his son as they sat talking of their gains at the fair of Broughton Hill; these gains, representing a large sum of money, being safely stowed away in a cupboard in the landlord's bedroom. Mrs. Alderson and Bella sat a little way off spinning by firelight, for the last coach had gone by and the house door was barred and bolted for the night. Outside the wind and rain were having a battle; there came fierce gusts which made the old casements rattle and stirred the red curtains, and then a torrent of rain swept smartly across the window, striking the glass so angrily that it seemed as if the small panes must shatter under its violence. Into the midst of this fitful disturbance, only varied by the men's voices beside the hearth, there came a knock at the door. 'Open t' door, lass,' said Alderson. 'Ah wadna keep a dog out sik a neet as this.' 'Eh! best slacken t' chain, lass,' said the more cautious landlady. The girl went to the door, but when she saw that the visitor was an old woman she opened the door wide and bade her come in. There entered a bent figure dressed in a long cloak and hood; this last was drawn over her face; and, as she walked feebly to the armchair which Alderson pushed forward, the rain streamed from her clothing and made a pool on the oaken floor. She shivered violently, but refused to take off her cloak and have it dried. She also refused the offer of food or a bed. She said she was on her way to the north, and must start as soon as there was daylight. All she wanted was a rest beside the fire. She could get the sleep she needed in her armchair. The innkeeper and his wife were well used to wayfarers, and they soon said 'Good-night' and went to bed; so did their son. Bella was left alone with the shivering old woman. The girl had kept silence, but now she put her wheel away in its corner and began to talk. She only got surly answers, and although the voice was low and subdued, the girl fancied that it did not sound like a woman's. Presently the wayfarer stretched out her feet to warm them, and Bella's quick eyes saw under the hem of the skirts that the stranger wore horseman's gaiters. The girl felt uneasy, and, instead of going to bed, she resolved to stay up and watch. 'Ah'm sleepy,' she said, gaping, but the figure in the chair made no answer. Presently Bella lay down on a long settle beyond the range of the firelight and watched the stranger while she pretended to fall asleep. All at once the figure in the chair stirred, raised its head, and listened; then it rose slowly to its feet, no longer bent, but tall and powerful-looking. It stood listening for some time. There was no sound but Bella's heavy breathing and the wind and the rain beating on the windows. Then the woman took from the folds of her cloak a brown withered human hand; next she produced a candle, lit it from the fire, and placed it in the hand. Bella's heart beat so fast that she could hardly keep up the regular deep breathing of pretended sleep; but now she saw the stranger coming towards her with this ghastly chandelier, and she closed her lids tightly. She felt that the woman was bending over her, and that the light was passed slowly before her eyes, while these words were muttered in the strange masculine voice that had first roused her suspicions: The door was closed, barred, and bolted, and Bella almost flew to her master's bedroom and tried to wake him. In vain. He and his wife slept on, while their snores sounded loudly through the house. The girl felt frantic. She then tried to rouse young Alderson, but he slept as if in a trance. Now a fierce battery on the door and cries below the windows told that the band had arrived. A new thought came to Bella. She ran back to the kitchen. There was the Hand of Glory, still burning with a wonderful light. The girl caught up a cup of milk that stood on the table, dashed it on the flame and extinguished it -- in one moment, as it seemed to her, she heard footsteps coming from the bedrooms, and George Alderson and his son rushed into the room with firearms in their hands. As soon as the robbers heard his voice bidding them depart they summoned the landlord to open his doors and produce his valuables. Meanwhile young Alderson had opened the window, and for answer he fired his blunderbuss down among the men below. There was a groan, a fall, then a pause, and, as it seemed to the besieged, some sort of discussion. Then a voice called out, 'Give up the Hand of Glory, and we will not harm you.' For answer young Alderson fired again, and the party drew off. Seemingly they had trusted entirely to the Hand of Glory, or else they feared a long resistance, for no further attack was made. The withered hand remained in possession of the Aldersons for sixteen years after. This story was told to my informant, Mr. Atkinson, by Bella herself when she was quite an old woman.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,Thief's Foot -- Thief's Hand -- Thief's Finger,Netherlands,NA,"Benjamin Thorpe, Northern Mythology, Comprising the Principal Popular Traditions and Superstitions of Scandinavia, North Germany, and the Netherlands, vol. 3 (London: Edward Lumley, 1852), pp. 274-75.","In West Flanders, not far from Bailleul, a thief was taken, on whom was found the foot of one that had been hanged, which he used for the purpose of putting people to sleep. Two fellows once came to Huy, who pretended to be exceedingly fatigued, and when they had supped would not retire to a sleeping room, but begged their host would allow them to take a nap on the hearth. But the maidservant, who did not like the looks of the two guests, remained by the kitchen door and peeped through a chink, when she saw that one of them drew a thief's hand from his pocket, the fingers of which, after having rubbed them with an ointment, he lighted, and they all burned except one. Again they held this finger to the fire, but still it would not burn, at which they appeared much surprised, and one said, 'There must surely be some one in the house who is not yet asleep.' They then hung the hand with its four burning fingers by the chimney, and went out to call their associates. But the maid followed them instantly and made the door fast, then ran upstairs, where the landlord slept, that she might wake him, but was unable, notwithstanding all her shaking and calling. In the meantime the thieves had returned and were endeavoring to enter the house by a window, but the maid cast them down from the ladder. They then took a different course, and would have forced an entrance, had it not occurred to the maid that the burning fingers might probably be the cause of her master's profound sleep. Impressed with this idea she ran to the kitchen, and blew them out, when the master and his men-servants instantly awoke, and soon drove away the robbers. In the village of Alveringen there formerly lived a sorceress, who had a thief's finger, over which nine masses had been read. For being acquainted with the sacristan, she had wrapt it in a cloth and laid it on the altar, telling him it was a relic. With this finger she performed wonderful things. When she had lighted it -- for such fingers burn like a candle -- everyone in the house where she might be was put to sleep. She would then steal money and everything else that she fancied, until she was at last detected, and the stolen property found in her possession.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,Thieves' Lights (Arndt),Germany,"In later editions, Arndt's editors softened this account by omitting the requirement that the dead person's fingers used for thieves lights must be from an unborn child, stating only that they come from an unbaptized child. See, for example, 'Der Rabenstein,' Mährchen und Jugenderinnerungen vol. 2, 3rd edition (Leipzig: Kommissions-Verlag von Karl Fr. Pfau, 1902), pp. 335-36. The Raven Stones mentioned at the beginning of the above piece have similar qualities to the Thieves' Lights. They too emit a light visible only to their owners, but their origin is not quite as horrible as that of the Thieves' Lights. Raven Stones are undigested remains of the eyes of executed criminals. Arndt, in the chapter cited above, gives substantial detail about how these stones can be obtained from the ravens that picked out the eyes of the criminals on the gallows.","Ernst Moritz Arndt, 'Der Rabenstein,' Mährchen und Jugenderinnerungen vol. 2 (Berlin: G. Reimer, 1843), pp. 348-49.","There are many curious and miraculously unusual happenings and things in nature, of which no human understands how they occur or how they relate to other things, but they exist nonetheless. And when people hear stories about them, they are amazed and terrified, but they cannot comprehend them. Thus it is with the Raven Stone, which many people talk about, but no one knows anything about with certainty. But it is known for sure that Raven Stones exist. You have heard about Thieves' Lights. They are similar to the Raven Stone and other invisible thieves' lanterns. It is gruesome to relate how Thieves' Lights are obtained. They are the fingers of unborn, innocent little children. For these purposes the fingers of already born and baptized children cannot be used. And what sort of unborn little children are they? And how does one obtain the lights? When a female thief or murderer hangs or drowns herself, or is hanged or beheaded, and she is carrying a child inside her body, then you must go forth at midnight on the devil's roads, not on God's roads, with incantations and magic, not with prayer and blessings, and you must take an axe or a knife that has been used by an executioner, and with it you must open up the poor sinner's belly, take out the child, cut off its fingers, and take them with you. But this absolutely must all be done at midnight in the most perfect solitude and silence. Not even the softest sound, no 'oh' and no sigh can escape the lips of the seeker. In this manner you obtain the lights, which you can burn whenever you want to. And however short they are, they will never burn up, but will always remain the same length. These magic lights have the unusual nature and property that they ignite whenever and wherever their thievish owner wants them to. And they extinguish themselves as fast as his wish and thought. With their help he can see everything, even in the densest and darkest night, whenever and wherever he wants. But they shine only for him and for no one else. He himself remains invisible, even though they illuminate everything else. Further, the horror within them gives them a mysterious power over sleep. In any room where they are lit a sleeper will snore so soundly that one could set off ten thunderbolts over his head without waking him. Just think how easy it is to steal things and carry them off under these conditions!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,Thieves' Lights (Bartsch),Germany,NA,"Karl Bartsch, Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], vol. 2 (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1880), no. 1608, pp. 332-33.","In former times thieves made lights for themselves which had the power to keep the inhabitants of a house asleep as long as the lights were burning. If the rogues knew how many people there were in the house that they wanted to rob, then they would ignite that number of lights, and no one would be able to wake up as long as the lights were burning. These lights were made from unborn children which had been cut from the womb. Therefore it occurred not infrequently that pregnant women were sold to bandits for high prices. That very thing happened once at a mill. A servant girl who was pregnant worked for the miller. Her fiancé came to visit her one night. He saw a wagon standing before the door of the miller's house. It was covered with a tarp. He heard a stifled groaning sound coming from beneath the tarp. The servant rushed to the living-room window, and inside he saw several fellows with the miller. They were counting out a large pile of silver coins onto the table. The servant immediately became suspicious and rushed back to investigate the wagon. He pulled his own fiancée from beneath the wagon tarp. Her mouth had been bound with a cloth. The servant carried her to safety and then untied her hands and feet. The robbers soon emerged from the house and drove off as fast as their horses could run, thinking that they were carrying with them a rich booty. Once a rogue slipped into a house during the day. The inhabitants of the house saw him, but although they searched high and low, they could not find him. At nightfall the inhabitants went to bed, but the servant girl could not fall asleep. She was afraid of the stranger, and wanted to look around carefully one last time. To her fright she discovered him hiding in the stove. The girl then pretended to fall asleep. Now that all was quiet in the house, the rogue climbed out of the stove and ignited as many lights as there were people in the house. But one of the lights would not burn. He believed that the girl was not yet asleep and held a burning light against her feet. However, in her fear she withstood the pain and did not move. Now satisfied, the rogue placed all the lights on the table and went outside to summon his fellow robbers. The girl jumped up and barred the door shut behind him. She attempted to awaken the people in the house, but to no avail. She then tried to extinguish the lights, but failed to do this as well. The rogue came to the window and demanded his lights, promising to leave once he had them. The servant girl answered that she could not reach them out to him while there were burning. She said that she had been unable to put them out and asked him what to do. He told her to submerge them in fresh milk. That is exactly what she wanted to know. She submerged them in fresh milk, and the lights went out. She shouted at the fellow that he was not going to get his lights back, and he then did indeed have to made a hasty retreat, for as soon as the lights were extinguished, everyone in the house awoke, and they all came running to see what was the matter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
958E*,Thieves' Thumbs,Germany,NA,"Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 4th edition, vol. 3 (Berlin: Ferd. Dümmlers Verlagsbuchhandlung Harrwitz und Gossmann, 1878), p. 311.","Thieves cut off the thumb of an unborn child and light it as a candle. As long as it is burning, everyone in the house will remain asleep.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1343,Boys Try Beheading,Germany/Poland,NA,"Otto Knoop, 'Knaben probiren das Köpfen,' Volkssagen, Erzählungen, Aberglauben, Gebräuche und Märchen aus dem östlichen Hinterpommern (Posen: Verlag von Joseph Jolowicz, 1885), no. 41, pp. 24-25.","In Damsdorf many years ago a number of boys were herding cattle in a field. One Sunday morning Farmer Bruhnke was suddenly overcome by an uncanny fear, and he rushed out to the field to see what the herders were doing. He had scarcely left the village when a little man came his way who asked him where he was going. Bruhnke told him, and the little man replied that he had just passed the boys, who were passing the time by playing a game. Bruhnke was relieved, but as he took leave of the little man, he noticed that the latter had a hen's foot. He ran as fast as his feet would carry him to the herding place, but it was too late. The head of one of the herders was already dancing on the ground. The boys had wanted to see how beheading went. To this end they built themselves an actual guillotine, fastening an old blade from a straw cutter onto a platform to serve as an ax. They all tried it, but just as they tied the last one to the block, a three-legged hare came limping by, and the boys ran after it, completely forgetting their comrade and the cattle. The prisoner tried to free himself of his bonds, but his motions released the blade, and the unfortunate boy paid for his game with his life.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1343,Playing at Hanging,China,NA,"Herbert A. Giles, Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, vol. 1 (London: Thomas de la Rue and Company, 1880), no. 52, p. 354.","A number of wild young fellows were one day out walking when they saw a young lady approach, riding on a pony. One of them said to the others, 'I'll back myself to make that girl laugh,' and a supper was at once staked by both sides on the result. Our hero then ran out in front of the pony, and kept on shouting 'I'm going to die! I'm going to die!' at the same time pulling out from over the top of a wall a stalk of millet, to which he attached his own waistband, and tying the latter round his neck, made a pretence of hanging himself. The young lady did laugh as she passed by, to the great amusement of the assembled company; but as when she was already some distance off their friend did not move, the others laughed louder than ever. However, on going up to him they saw that his tongue protruded, and that his eyes were glazed; he was, in fact, quite dead. Was it not strange that a man should be able to hang himself on a millet stalk? It is a good warning against practical joking. fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1343,The Hanging Game (Gutch),England,"Gutch's and Peacock's source: W. H. Jones, Lincolnshire Notes and Queries, v. 1 (January 1, 1888 to October 1, 1889), p. 166. Gutch and Peacock do not give this local legend a title.","Eliza Gutch and Mabel Peacock, County Folk-Lore, v. 5: Examples of Printed Folk-Lore Concerning Lincolnshire (London: David Nutt, 1908), p. 349.","Some years ago, when driving past a gallows standing in a field at Melton Ross, an old man told me a curious tale. He said, 'Some hundred of years ago, three or four boys were playing at hanging, and seeing who could hang the longest in a tree. Just as one of them got up and put the noose on, a three-legged hare (the devil, sir) came limping past, and off the other lads ran after him, and forgot their comrade. They very nearly caught the hare several times, but he got away. And when they came back the lad in the tree was dead. That's what the gallows was put up for.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1343,The Hanging Game (Herzog),Switzerland,NA,"Hans Herzog, 'Das Erhängenspielen,' Schweizersagen: Für Jung und Alt dargestellt (Aarau: Druck und Verlag von H. R. Sauerländer, 1871), no. 7, p. 8.","At that same moment a magnificent bird with glistening feathers flew out of the willow tree. The boys who first saw it chased after it, and the others heard music that was so seductively tempting that they ran to the place where the sound seemed to be coming from. When both groups disappointedly returned to the meadow, their comrade was hanging motionless from the cord.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,Hansel and Gretel,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"The Grimms' specific source is unclear. Although they state that it derives 'from various stories from Hessen,' a handwritten marginal note in the Grimms' personal copy of the first edition reveals that in 1813 Henriette Dorothea (Dortchen) Wild contributed the children's verse answer to the witch, 'The wind, the wind,/ The heavenly child,' which rhymes in German: 'Der Wind, der Wind,/ Das himmlische Kind.' It is likely that the Grimms heard the entire story in the Wild household. Wilhelm Grimm married Dortchen Wild in 1825. 'Hansel and Gretel' is the classic version of an Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 327A tale. The episode of burning the witch in her own oven is classified as type 1121. Notes on the translation: In the first edition the Grimms spell their hero's and heroine's names 'Hänsel' and 'Gretel.' In the second edition, 'Hänsel' and 'Grethel.' All modern German editions use the spellings 'Hänsel' and 'Gretel.' There is no reason to include the Umlaut (whether spelled 'Hänsel' or 'Haensel') in an English translation of the name 'Hansel,' nor is there any justification for an English translator to revert to the obsolete spelling 'Grethel.' The phrase 'die Frau' occurs fequently in 'Hansel and Gretel,' especially in the final edition. This phrase can be translated as 'his wife,' 'the wife,' 'his woman,' or 'the woman.' In my judgment, the generic 'the woman' best fits the story's child's-eye perspective and tone. The traditional translation of the witch's verse query 'Nibble, nibble, little mouse,/ Who is nibbling at my house?' is too good to abandon, although the original German 'Knuper, knuper, kneischen,/ Wer knupert an meinem Häuschen?' does not specifically mention a mouse. In the first edition the Grimms spell their hero's and heroine's names 'Hänsel' and 'Gretel.' In the second edition, 'Hänsel' and 'Grethel.' All modern German editions use the spellings 'Hänsel' and 'Gretel.' There is no reason to include the Umlaut (whether spelled 'Hänsel' or 'Haensel') in an English translation of the name 'Hansel,' nor is there any justification for an English translator to revert to the obsolete spelling 'Grethel.' The phrase 'die Frau' occurs fequently in 'Hansel and Gretel,' especially in the final edition. This phrase can be translated as 'his wife,' 'the wife,' 'his woman,' or 'the woman.' In my judgment, the generic 'the woman' best fits the story's child's-eye perspective and tone. The traditional translation of the witch's verse query 'Nibble, nibble, little mouse,/ Who is nibbling at my house?' is too good to abandon, although the original German 'Knuper, knuper, kneischen,/ Wer knupert an meinem Häuschen?' does not specifically mention a mouse. Links to related sites: Hansel and Gretel. The above text in a single file. Hansel and Gretel by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. A comparison of the versions of 1812 and 1857. Hänsel und Gretel. The German-language text of the version of 1857. The Grimm Brothers' Children's and Household Tales (Grimms' Fairy Tales). The Grimm Brothers' Home Page. Hansel and Gretel. The above text in a single file. Hansel and Gretel by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. A comparison of the versions of 1812 and 1857. Hänsel und Gretel. The German-language text of the version of 1857. The Grimm Brothers' Children's and Household Tales (Grimms' Fairy Tales). The Grimm Brothers' Home Page.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Hänsel und Grethel,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales], vol. 1, 7th ed. (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 15, pp. 79-87.","Next to a great forest there lived a poor woodcutter with his wife and his two children. The boy's name was Hansel and the girl's name was Gretel. He had but little to eat, and once, when a great famine came to the land, he could no longer provide even their daily bread. One evening as he was lying in bed worrying about his problems, he sighed and said to his wife, 'What is to become of us? How can we feed our children when we have nothing for ourselves?' 'Man, do you know what?' answered the woman. 'Early tomorrow morning we will take the two children out into the thickest part of the woods, make a fire for them, and give each of them a little piece of bread, then leave them by themselves and go off to our work. They will not find their way back home, and we will be rid of them.' 'No, woman,' said the man. 'I will not do that. How could I bring myself to abandon my own children alone in the woods? Wild animals would soon come and tear them to pieces.' 'Oh, you fool,' she said, 'then all four of us will starve. All you can do is to plane the boards for our coffins.' And she gave him no peace until he agreed. 'But I do feel sorry for the poor children,' said the man. The two children had not been able to fall asleep because of their hunger, and they heard what the stepmother had said to the father. Gretel cried bitter tears and said to Hansel, 'It is over with us!' 'Be quiet, Gretel,' said Hansel, 'and don't worry. I know what to do.' And as soon as the adults had fallen asleep, he got up, pulled on his jacket, opened the lower door, and crept outside. The moon was shining brightly, and the white pebbles in front of the house were glistening like silver coins. Hansel bent over and filled his jacket pockets with them, as many as would fit. Then he went back into the house and said, 'Don't worry, Gretel. Sleep well. God will not forsake us.' Then he went back to bed. At daybreak, even before sunrise, the woman came and woke the two children. 'Get up, you lazybones. We are going into the woods to fetch wood.' Then she gave each one a little piece of bread, saying, 'Here is something for midday. Don't eat it any sooner, for you'll not get any more.' Gretel put the bread under her apron, because Hansel's pockets were full of stones. Then all together they set forth into the woods. After they had walked a little way, Hansel began stopping again and again and looking back toward the house. The father said, 'Hansel, why are you stopping and looking back? Pay attention now, and don't forget your legs.' 'Oh, father,' said Hansel, 'I am looking at my white cat that is sitting on the roof and wants to say good-bye to me.' The woman said, 'You fool, that isn't your cat. That's the morning sun shining on the chimney.' However, Hansel had not been looking at his cat but instead had been dropping the shiny pebbles from his pocket onto the path. When they arrived in the middle of the woods, the father said, 'You children gather some wood, and I will make a fire so you won't freeze.' Hansel and Gretel gathered together some twigs, a pile as high as a small mountain The twigs were set afire, and when the flames were burning well, the woman said, 'Lie down by the fire and rest. We will go into the woods to cut wood. When we are finished, we will come back and get you.' Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire. When midday came each one ate his little piece of bread. Because they could hear the blows of an ax, they thought that the father was nearby. However, it was not an ax. It was a branch that he had tied to a dead tree and that the wind was beating back and forth. After they had sat there a long time, their eyes grew weary and closed, and they fell sound sleep. When they finally awoke, it was dark at night. Gretel began to cry and said, 'How will we get out of woods?' Hansel comforted her, 'Wait a little until the moon comes up, and then we'll find the way.' After the full moon had come up, Hansel took his little sister by the hand. They followed the pebbles that glistened there like newly minted coins, showing them the way. They walked throughout the entire night, and as morning was breaking, they arrived at the father's house. They knocked on the door, and when the woman opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Gretel, she said, 'You wicked children, why did you sleep so long in the woods? We thought that you did not want to come back.' But the father was overjoyed when he saw his children once more, for he had not wanted to leave them alone. Not long afterward there was once again great need everywhere, and one evening the children heard the mother say to the father, 'We have again eaten up everything. We have only a half loaf of bread, and then the song will be over. We must get rid of the children. We will take them deeper into the woods, so they will not find their way out. Otherwise there will be no help for us.' The man was very disheartened, and he thought, 'It would be better to share the last bit with the children.' But the woman would not listen to him, scolded him, and criticized him. He who says A must also say B, and because he had given in the first time, he had to do so the second time as well. The children were still awake and had overheard the conversation. When the adults were asleep, Hansel got up again and wanted to gather pebbles as he had done before, but the woman had locked the door, and Hansel could not get out. But he comforted his little sister and said, 'Don't cry, Gretel. Sleep well. God will help us.' Early the next morning the woman came and got the children from their beds. They received their little pieces of bread, even less than the last time. On the way to the woods, Hansel crumbled his piece in his pocket, then often stood still, and threw crumbs onto the ground. 'Hansel, why are you always stopping and looking around?' said his father. 'Keep walking straight ahead.' 'I can see my pigeon sitting on the roof. It wants to say good-bye to me.' 'Fool,' said the woman, 'that isn't your pigeon. That's the morning sun shining on the chimney.' But little by little Hansel dropped all the crumbs onto the path. The woman took them deeper into the woods than they had ever been in their whole lifetime. Once again a large fire was made, and the mother said, 'Sit here, children. If you get tired you can sleep a little. We are going into the woods to cut wood. We will come and get you in the evening when we are finished.' When it was midday Gretel shared her bread with Hansel, who had scattered his piece along the path. Then they fell asleep, and evening passed, but no one came to get the poor children. It was dark at night when they awoke, and Hansel comforted Gretel and said, 'Wait, when the moon comes up I will be able to see the crumbs of bread that I scattered, and they will show us the way back home.' When the moon appeared they got up, but they could not find any crumbs, for the many thousands of birds that fly about in the woods and in the fields had pecked them up. Hansel said to Gretel, 'We will find our way,' but they did not find it. They walked through the entire night and the next day from morning until evening, but they did not find their way out of the woods. They were terribly hungry, for they had eaten only a few small berries that were growing on the ground. And because they were so tired that their legs would no longer carry them, they lay down under a tree and fell asleep. It was already the third morning since they had left the father's house. They started walking again, but managed only to go deeper and deeper into the woods. If help did not come soon, they would perish. At midday they saw a little snow-white bird sitting on a branch. It sang so beautifully that they stopped to listen. When it was finished it stretched its wings and flew in front of them. They followed it until they came to a little house. The bird sat on the roof, and when they came closer, they saw that the little house was built entirely from bread with a roof made of cake, and the windows were made of clear sugar. 'Let's help ourselves to a good meal,' said Hansel. 'I'll eat a piece of the roof, and Gretel, you eat from the window. That will be sweet.' Hansel reached up and broke off a little of the roof to see how it tasted, while Gretel stood next to the windowpanes and was nibbling at them. Then a gentle voice called out from inside: But the old woman shook her head and said, 'Oh, you dear children, who brought you here? Just come in and stay with me. No harm will come to you.' She took them by the hand and led them into her house. Then she served them a good meal: milk and pancakes with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterward she made two nice beds for them, decked in white. Hansel and Gretel went to bed, thinking they were in heaven. But the old woman had only pretended to be friendly. She was a wicked witch who was lying in wait there for children. She had built her house of bread only in order to lure them to her, and if she captured one, she would kill him, cook him, and eat him; and for her that was a day to celebrate. Witches have red eyes and cannot see very far, but they have a sense of smell like animals, and know when humans are approaching. When Hansel and Gretel came near to her, she laughed wickedly and spoke scornfully, 'Now I have them. They will not get away from me again.' Early the next morning, before they awoke, she got up, went to their beds, and looked at the two of them lying there so peacefully, with their full red cheeks. 'They will be a good mouthful,' she mumbled to herself. Then she grabbed Hansel with her withered hand and carried him to a little stall, where she locked him behind a cage door. Cry as he might, there was no help for him. Then she shook Gretel and cried, 'Get up, lazybones! Fetch water and cook something good for your brother. He is locked outside in the stall and is to be fattened up. When he is fat I am going to eat him.' Gretel began to cry, but it was all for nothing. She had to do what the witch demanded. Now Hansel was given the best things to eat every day, but Gretel received nothing but crayfish shells. Every morning the old woman crept out to the stall and shouted, 'Hansel, stick out your finger, so I can feel if you are fat yet.' But Hansel stuck out a little bone, and the old woman, who had bad eyes and could not see the bone, thought it was Hansel's finger, and she wondered why he didn't get fat. When four weeks had passed and Hansel was still thin, impatience overcame her, and she would wait no longer. 'Hey, Gretel!' she shouted to the girl, 'Hurry up and fetch some water. Whether Hansel is fat or thin, tomorrow I am going to slaughter him and boil him.' Oh, how the poor little sister sobbed as she was forced to carry the water, and how the tears streamed down her cheeks! 'Dear God, please help us,' she cried. 'If only the wild animals had devoured us in the woods, then we would have died together.' 'Save your slobbering,' said the old woman. 'It doesn't help you at all.' The next morning Gretel had to get up early, hang up the kettle with water, and make a fire. 'First we are going to bake,' said the old woman. 'I have already made a fire in the oven and kneaded the dough.' She pushed poor Gretel outside to the oven, from which fiery flames were leaping. 'Climb in,' said the witch, 'and see if it is hot enough to put the bread in yet.' And when Gretel was inside, she intended to close the oven, and bake her, and eat her as well. But Gretel saw what she had in mind, so she said, 'I don't know how to do that. How can I get inside?' 'Stupid goose,' said the old woman. The opening is big enough. See, I myself could get in.' And she crawled up stuck her head into the oven. Then Gretel gave her a shove, causing her to fall in. Then she closed the iron door and secured it with a bar. The old woman began to howl frightfully. But Gretel ran away, and the godless witch burned up miserably. Gretel ran straight to Hansel, unlocked his stall, and cried, 'Hansel, we are saved. The old witch is dead.' Then Hansel jumped out, like a bird from its cage when someone opens its door. How happy they were! They threw their arms around each other's necks, jumped with joy, and kissed one another. Because they now had nothing to fear, they went into the witch's house. In every corner were chests of pearls and precious stones. 'These are better than pebbles,' said Hansel, filling his pockets. Gretel said, 'I will take some home with me as well,' and she filled her apron full. 'But now we must leave,' said Hansel, 'and get out of these witch-woods.' After walking a few hours they arrived at a large body of water. 'We cannot get across,' said Hansel. 'I cannot see a walkway or a bridge.' 'There are no boats here,' answered Gretel, 'but there is a white duck swimming. If I ask it, it will help us across.' Then she called out: 'No,' answered Gretel. 'That would be too heavy for the duckling. It should take us across one at a time.' That is what the good animal did, and when they were safely on the other side, and had walked on a little while, the woods grew more and more familiar to them, and finally they saw the father's house in the distance. They began to run, rushed inside, and threw their arms around the father's neck. The man had not had even one happy hour since he had left the children in the woods. However, the woman had died. Gretel shook out her apron, scattering pearls and precious stones around the room, and Hansel added to them by throwing one handful after the other from his pockets. Now all their cares were at an end, and they lived happily together.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,Jan and Hanna,Poland,"This tale is a Slavic story from Lusatia (Lausitz), a historical area in present-day eastern Germany and western Poland, with a mixed Slavic and German population.","Karl Haupt, 'Hänschen und Hannchen,' Sagenbuch der Lausitz, part 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1863), no. 315, pp. 215-16.","Now once upon a time there were a father and a mother who had a large flock of children. The father went to town and bought a scoopful of peas and gave each child one pea, but Jan and Hanna did not get any. This made them cry. The father said, 'Be quiet and don't cry. I am going into the forest to chop wood. You can come along and look for berries.' The father took a breadboard and a rolling pin with him and hung them on a tree. He said to Jan and Hanna, 'Just go and pick berries. You can pick berries as long as I am chopping wood.' The wind blew the breadboard and the rolling pin against each other, and they thought their father was still chopping wood, so they continued to pick berries. After they had eaten until they were full and had filled their little buckets as well, they went and looked for their father. They came to the place where the breadboard and the rolling pin were hanging, but no father was there. They cried, then ran about in the woods shouting, but they did not find anyone. Suddenly they came to a little gingerbread house. They began to crumble off some little pieces: crumble, crumble from Old Vera's little house! Then Old Vera came running out. 'Who's there?' They quickly hid themselves so she could not find them. But they continued to crumble little pieces off the little house: crumble, crumble from Old Vera's little house. Then she ran out very fast and caught them. She took them inside and said, 'Now I am going to fatten you up,' and she locked them into a little stall and gave them nothing but bread and milk to eat. After a while she wanted to see if they were fattened up enough. 'Jan, stick out your finger. Are you fattened up yet?' But he stuck out the little whistle he had brought from home. She made a cut in it. 'Oh, you are not fat enough yet.' 'Hanna, you stick out your finger. Are you fattened up yet?' But she stuck out a finger that had a ring on it. Old Vera made a cut in the ring. 'Oh, you are not fat enough yet either.' Then they cried a lot, and Jan lost his little whistle, and Hanna lost her ring. Old Vera came again to see if they were fattened up enough. 'Jan, stick out your finger.' Old Vera made a cut in it, and it bled a little. 'Hanna, you stick out your finger.' Old Vera made a cut in it, and it bled a little. 'Yes, you are fattened up enough. Now I am going to roast you.' She heated up her oven very hot, took Jan and Hanna and said, 'Sit on the bread pusher.' They sat on the bread pusher, now this way, and now that way. Vera told them how they were supposed to sit, but every time they fell off. 'We don't know how we are supposed to sit. You show us.' Then Old Vera sat on the bread pusher, and bang! they pushed her into the glowing oven. Old Vera burned up completely, so the little gingerbread house was theirs, and if they haven't sold it, they still have it to this very day. Source: Karl Haupt, 'Hänschen und Hannchen,' Sagenbuch der Lausitz, part 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1863), no. 315, pp. 215-16. historical area in present-day eastern Germany and western Poland, with a mixed Slavic and German population.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,Juan and Maria,Philippines,"Note by Fansler: Narrated by Anicio Pascual of Arayat, Pampanga, who says, 'This story is often told by Pampangan grandmothers to their grandchildren. I have heard it many times. Lately it was told to me again by an old woman.'","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania: American Folk-lore Society, 1921), no. 40, pp. 295-301.","Once there lived in a barrio an old beggar couple. They had a son named Juan, and a daughter Maria. The proceeds from their begging were hardly enough to support the family. One day, after the old man had returned home from town, he ordered his wife to cook the rice that had been given him. The old woman obeyed him. When he saw that the rice was not enough for him and his wife and children, he angrily said to her, 'From now on, don't let me see our children in this house. Chase them as far as you can, and let them find their own food.' The old mother wept when she heard the words of her cruel husband. She did not want to be separated from her children; but she feared that she would be whipped if she kept them, so she obeyed the cruel order. At first the poor children did not want to go away; but, when they saw that their bad father was going to kick them, they ran off crying. Soon the children came to a wild forest. 'Maria, what will become of us here?' said Juan. 'I am very hungry,' said the little girl. 'I don't think that I can get you any food in this wilderness,' said the kind brother, 'but let me see!' He then looked around. By good luck he found a guava tree with one small fruit on it. He immediately climbed up for the guava, and gave it to his hungry sister. Then the two children resumed their journey. As they were walking along, Maria found a hen's egg on the grass. She picked it up and carried it along with her in her dirty ragged skirt. At last they saw a very small hut roofed with dry talahib (coarse, long grass). An old woman in the hut welcomed them, and asked them where they were going. After Juan had told her their story, she invited the tired children to stay in the hut with her. She promised that she would treat them as her little son and daughter. From that time on, Juan and Maria lived with the kind old woman. Juan grew to be a strong fine man, and Maria became a beautiful young woman. Juan spent almost all his time hunting in the mountains and woods. One morning he caught a black deer. While he was taking the animal home, the deer said to him, 'Juan, as soon as you reach your home, kill me, eat my flesh, and put my hide in your trunk. After three days open your trunk, and you will see something astonishing.' When Juan reached home, he did as the deer had told him to do. On the third day he found in the trunk golden armor. He was greatly delighted by the precious gift. Maria had not been living long with the old woman when she found that the egg had hatched into a chick, which soon grew into a fine fighting cock. One morning the cock crowed, 'Tok-to-ko-kok! Take me to the cockpit. I'll surely win!' Maria told the old woman what the cock had said, and the next Sunday Juan took the fighting cock to the cockpit. There the rooster was victorious, and won much money for Juan. One day Juan heard that a tournament would be held in front of the king's palace. The winner of the contest was to become the husband of the princess, and would inherit the throne. Juan quickly put on his golden armor, and hastened to the palace to try his skill. He defeated all his opponents. The next day his bridal ceremony was celebrated, and the crown was placed on his head. That very day he ascended the throne to rule over the kingdom. Although Juan was now king, he was not proud. He and the queen visited Maria to get her to live in the palace; but the old woman would not allow her to go with her brother, as she had no other companion in the hut. One day a prince was lost in the forest. He happened to come across the hut in which Maria was living. He fell in love with her, and wanted to marry her. As the old woman offered no objections to the proposal of the prince, the following day Maria became a queen, just as her brother had become king. Although the parents of Juan and Maria had been very cruel, yet the king and queen did not forget them. The brother and sister visited their father and mother, whom they found in the most wretched condition. When the father saw that his children had become king and queen, he wept greatly for his former cruelty to Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania: American Folk-lore Society, 1921), no. 40, pp. 295-301. Note by Fansler: Narrated by Anicio Pascual of Arayat, Pampanga, who says, 'This story is often told by Pampangan grandmothers to their grandchildren. I have heard it many times. Lately it was told to me again by an old woman.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,Little Thumb,Charles Perrault,"Entitled 'Le petit Pouçet' in French, this tale is also known in English as 'Hop o' My Thumb,' or as 'Little Tom Thumb.' Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 327B. Links to related sites: Little Thumb. The above tale in a single file. Le petit pouçet. The above tale in the original French. Charles Perrault's Mother Goose Tales. Information about Perrault and his famous collection Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye, including links to individual tales. Les contes de Perrault. A French-language site featuring Perrault's tales. Little Thumb. The above tale in a single file. Le petit pouçet. The above tale in the original French. Charles Perrault's Mother Goose Tales. Information about Perrault and his famous collection Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye, including links to individual tales. Les contes de Perrault. A French-language site featuring Perrault's tales.","Andrew Lang, The Blue Fairy Book, 5th edition (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1891 [first published 1889]), pp. 231-41. Lang's source: Charles Perrault, Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye (Paris, 1697).","Once upon a time there lived a woodcutter and his wife; they had seven children, all boys. The eldest was but ten years old, and the youngest only seven. People were astonished that the woodcutter had had so many children in such a short time, but his wife was very fond of children, and never had less than two at a time They were very poor, and their seven children inconvenienced them greatly, because not one of them was able to earn his own way. They were especially concerned, because the youngest was very sickly. He scarcely ever spoke a word, which they considered to be a sign of stupidity, although it was in truth a mark of good sense. He was very little, and when born no bigger than one's thumb, for which reason they called him Little Thumb. The poor child bore the blame of everything that went wrong in the house. Guilty or not, he was always held to be at fault. He was, notwithstanding, more cunning and had a far greater share of wisdom than all his brothers put together. And although he spoke little, he listened well. There came a very bad year, and the famine was so great that these poor people decided to rid themselves of their children. One evening, when the children were all in bed and the woodcutter was sitting with his wife at the fire, he said to her, with his heart ready to burst with grief, 'You see plainly that we are not able to keep our children, and I cannot see them starve to death before my face. I am resolved to lose them in the woods tomorrow, which may very easily be done; for, while they are busy in tying up the bundles of wood, we can leave them, without their noticing.' 'Ah!' cried out his wife; 'and can you yourself have the heart to take your children out along with you on purpose to abandon them?' In vain her husband reminded her of their extreme poverty. She would not consent to it. Yes, she was poor, but she was their mother. However, after having considered what a grief it would be for her to see them perish with hunger, she at last consented, and went to bed in tears. Little Thumb heard every word that had been spoken; for observing, as he lay in his bed, that they were talking very busily, he got up softly, and hid under his father's stool, in order to hear what they were saying without being seen. He went to bed again, but did not sleep a wink all the rest of the night, thinking about what he had to do. He got up early in the morning, and went to the riverside, where he filled his pockets with small white pebbles, and then returned home. They all went out, but Little Thumb never told his brothers one syllable of what he knew. They went into a very thick forest, where they could not see one another at ten paces distance. The woodcutter began his work, and the children gathered up the sticks into bundles. Their father and mother, seeing them busy at their work, slipped away from them without being seen, and returned home along a byway through the bushes. When the children saw they had been left alone, they began to cry as loudly as they could. Little Thumb let them cry, knowing very well how to get home again, for he had dropped the little white pebbles all along the way. Then he said to them, 'Don't be afraid, brothers. Father and mother have left us here, but I will lead you home again. Just follow me.' They did so, and he took them home by the very same way they had come into the forest. They dared not go in, but sat down at the door, listening to what their father and mother were saying. The woodcutter and his wife had just arrived home, when the lord of the manor sent them ten crowns, which he had owed them a long while, and which they never expected. This gave them new life, for the poor people were almost famished. The woodcutter sent his wife immediately to the butcher's. As it had been a long while since they had eaten, she bought three times as much meat as would be needed for two people. When they had eaten, the woman said, 'Alas! Where are our poor children now? They would make a good feast of what we have left here; but it was you, William, who decided to abandon them. I told you that we would be sorry for it. What are they now doing in the forest? Alas, dear God, the wolves have perhaps already eaten them up. You are very inhuman to have abandoned your children in this way.' The woodcutter at last lost his patience, for she repeated it more than twenty times, that they would be sorry for it, and that she was right for having said so. He threatened to beat her if she did not hold her tongue. It was not that the woodcutter was less upset than his wife, but that she was nagging him. He, like many others, was of the opinion that wives should say the right thing, but that they should not do so too often. She nearly drowned herself in tears, crying out, 'Alas! Where are now my children, my poor children?' She spoke this so very loud that the children, who were at the gate, began to cry out all together, 'Here we are! Here we are!' She immediately ran to open the door, and said, hugging them, 'I am so glad to see you, my dear children; you are very hungry and tired. And my poor Peter, you are horribly dirty; come in and let me clean you.' Now, you must know that Peter was her eldest son, whom she loved above all the rest, because he had red hair, as she herself did. They sat down to supper and ate with a good appetite, which pleased both father and mother. They told them how frightened they had been in forest, speaking almost always all together. The parents were extremely glad to see their children once more at home, and this joy continued while the ten crowns lasted; but, when the money was all gone, they fell again into their former uneasiness, and decided to abandon them again. This time they resolved to take them much deeper into the forest than before. Although they tried to talk secretly about it, again they were overheard by Little Thumb, who made plans to get out of this difficulty as well as he had the last time. However, even though he got up very early in morning to go and pick up some little pebbles, he could not do so, for he found the door securely bolted and locked. Their father gave each of them a piece of bread for their breakfast, and he fancied he might make use of this instead of the pebbles, by throwing it in little bits all way; and so he put it into his pocket. Their father and mother took them into the thickest and most obscure part of the forest, then, slipping away by an obscure path, they left them there. Little Thumb was not concerned, for he thought he could easily find the way again by means of his bread, which he had scattered along the way; but he was very much surprised when he could not find so much as one crumb. The birds had come and had eaten every bit of it up. They were now in great distress, for the farther they went the more lost and bewildered they became. Night now came on, and there arose a terrible high wind, which made them dreadfully afraid. They fancied they heard on every side of them howling of wolves coming to eat them up. They scarcely dared to speak or turn their heads. After this, it rained very hard, which drenched them to the skin; their feet slipped at every step they took, and they fell into the mire, getting them muddy all over. Their hands were numb with cold. Little Thumb climbed to the top of a tree, to see if he could discover anything. Turning his head in every direction, he saw at last a glimmering light, like that of a candle, but a long way from the forest. He came down, but from the ground, he could no longer see it no more, which concerned him greatly. However, after walking for some time with his brothers in the direction where he had seen the light, he perceived it again as he came out of the woods. They came at last to the house where this candle was, but not without many fearful moments, for every time they walked down into a hollow they lost sight of it. They knocked at the door, and a good woman opened it. She asked them what they wanted. Little Thumb told her they were poor children who had been lost in forest, and begged her, for God's sake, to give them lodging. The woman, seeing that they were good looking children, began to weep, and said to them, 'Alas, poor babies, where are you from? Do you know that this house belongs to a cruel ogre who eats up little children?' 'Ah! dear madam,' answered Little Thumb (who, as well as his brothers, was trembling all over), 'what shall we do? If you refuse to let us sleep here then the wolves of the forest surely will devour us tonight. We would prefer the gentleman to eat us, but perhaps he would take pity upon us, especially if you would beg him to.' The ogre's wife, who believed she could hide them from her husband until morning, let them come in, and had them to warm themselves at a very good fire. There was a whole sheep on the spit, roasting for the ogre's supper. After they warmed up a little, they heard three or four great raps at the door. This was the ogre, who was come home. Hearing him, she hid under the bed and opened the door. The ogre immediately asked if supper was ready and the wine drawn, and then sat down at the table. The sheep was still raw and bloody, but he preferred it that way. He sniffed about to the right and left, saying, 'I smell fresh meat.' His wife said, 'You can smell the calf which I have just now killed and flayed.' 'I smell fresh meat, I tell you once more,' replied the ogre, looking crossly at his wife, 'and there is something here which I do not understand.' As he spoke these words he got up from the table and went directly to the bed. 'Ah, hah!' he said. 'I see then how you would cheat me, you cursed woman; I don't know why I don't eat you as well. It is fortunate for you that you are tough old carrion. But here is good game, which has luckily arrived just in time to serve to three ogre friends who are coming here to visit in a day or two.' With that he dragged them out from under the bed, one by one. The children fell upon their knees, and begged his pardon; but they dealing with one of the cruelest ogres in the world. Far from having any pity on them, he had already devoured them with his eyes. He told his wife that they would be delicate eating with good savory sauce. He then took a large knife, and, approaching the poor children, sharpened it on a large whetstone which he held in his left hand. He had already taken hold of one of them when his wife said to him, 'Why do it now? Is it not tomorrow soon enough?' 'Hold your chatter,' said the ogre; 'they will be more tender, if I kill them now.' 'But you have so much meat already,' replied his wife. 'You have no need for more. Here are a calf, two sheep, and half a hog.' 'That is true,' said the ogre. 'Feed them so they don't get too thin, and put them to bed.' The good woman was overjoyed at this, and offered them a good supper, but they were so afraid that they could not eat a bit. As for the ogre, he sat down to drink, being highly pleased that now had something special to treat his friends. He drank a dozen glasses more than ordinary, which went to his head and made him sleepy. The ogre had seven little daughters. These young ogresses all had very fine complexions, because they ate fresh meat like their father; but they had little gray eyes, quite round, hooked noses, and very long sharp teeth, well spaced from each other. As yet they were not overly mischievous, but they showed great promise for it, for they had already bitten little children in order to suck their blood. They had been put to bed early, all seven in a large bed, and each wearing a crown of gold on her head. The ogre's wife gave the seven little boys a bed just as large and in the same room, then she went to bed to her husband. Little Thumb, who had observed that the ogre's daughters had crowns of gold upon their heads, and was afraid lest the ogre should change his mind about not killing them, got up about midnight, and, taking his brothers' caps and his own, went very softly and put them on the heads of the seven little ogresses, after having taken off their crowns of gold, which he put on his own head and his brothers', that the ogre might take them for his daughters, and his daughters for the little boys whom he wanted to kill. All of this happened according to his plan for, the ogre awakened midnight and, regretting that he had put off until morning that which he might have done tonight, he hastily got out of bed and picked up his large knife. 'Let us see,' he said, 'how our little rogues are doing! We'll not make that mistake a second time!' He then went, groping all the way, into his daughters' room. He came to the bed where the little boys lay. They were all fast asleep except Little Thumb, who was terribly afraid when he felt the ogre feeling about head, as he had done about his brothers'. Feeling the golden crowns, the ogre said, 'That would have been a terrible mistake. Truly, I did drink too much last night.' Then he went to the bed where the girls lay. Finding the boys' caps on them, he said, 'Ah, hah, my merry lads, here you are. Let us get to work.' So saying, and without further ado, he cut all seven of his daughters' throats. Well pleased with what he had done, he went to bed again to his wife. As soon as Little Thumb heard the ogre snore, he wakened his brothers and told them to put on their clothes immediately and to follow him. They stole softly down into the garden, and climbed over the wall. They kept running nearly the whole night, trembling all the while, and not knowing which way they were going. The ogre, when he awoke, said to his wife, 'Go upstairs and dress those young rascals who came here last night.' The ogress was very much surprised at this goodness of her husband, not dreaming how he intended that she should dress them, thinking that he had ordered her to go and put their clothes on them, she went up, and was horribly astonished when she saw her seven daughters with their throats cut and lying in their own blood. She fainted away, for this is the first expedient almost all women find in such cases. The ogre, fearing his wife would be too long in doing what he had ordered, went up himself to help her. He was no less amazed than his wife at this frightful spectacle. 'What have I done?' he cried. 'Those wretches shall soon pay for this!' He threw a pitcher of water on his wife's face, and, having brought her to herself, cried, 'Bring me my seven-league boots at once, so that I can catch them.' He went out, and ran this way and that over a vast amount of ground. At last he came to the very road where the poor children were, and not more than a hundred paces from their father's house. They saw the ogre coming, who was stepping from mountain to mountain, and crossing over rivers as easily as if they were little streams. Little Thumb hid himself and his brothers in a nearby hollow rock, all the while keeping watch on the ogre. The ogre was very tired from his long and fruitless journey (for seven-league boots are very tiring to wear), and decided to take a rest. By chance he sat on the rock where the little boys had hid themselves. He was so tired that he fell asleep, and began to snore so frightfully that the poor children were no less afraid of him than when he had held up his large knife and was about to cut their throats. However, Little Thumb was not as frightened as his brothers were, and told them that they immediately should run away towards home while the ogre was asleep so soundly, and that they should not worry about him. They took his advice, and soon reached home. Little Thumb came up to the ogre, pulled off his boots gently and put them on his own feet. The boots were very long and large, but because they were enchanted, they became big or little to fit the person who was wearing them. So they fit his feet and legs as if they had been custom made for him. He immediately went to the ogre's house, where he saw his wife crying bitterly for the loss of her murdered daughters. 'Your husband,' said Little Thumb, 'is in very great danger. He has been captured by a gang of thieves, who have sworn to kill him if he does not give them all his gold and silver. At the very moment they were holding their daggers to his throat he saw me, and begged me to come and tell you the condition he is in. You should give me everything he has of value, without keeping back anything at all, for otherwise they will kill him without mercy. Because his case is so very urgent, he lent me his boots (you see I have them on), that I might make the more haste and to show you that he himself has sent me to you.' The good woman, being sadly frightened, gave him all she had, for although this ogre ate up little children, he was a good husband. Thus got all the ogre' s money. He returned with it to his father's house, where he was received with great joy. There are many people who do not agree with this last detail. They claim that Little Thumb never robbed the ogre at all, that he only made off with the seven-league boots, and that with a good conscience, because ogre's only use of them was to pursue little children. These folks affirm that they are quite sure of this, because they have often drunk and eaten at the woodcutter's house. These people claim that after taking off the ogre's boots, Little Thumb went to court, where he learned that there was much concern about outcome of a certain battle and the condition of a certain army, which was two hundred leagues off. They say that he went to the king, and told him that, if he desired it, he would bring him news from the army before night. The king promised him a great sum of money if he could do so. Little Thumb was as good as his word, and returned that very same night with the news. This first feat brought him great fame, and he could then name his own price. Not only did the king pay him very well for carrying his orders to the army, but the ladies of the court paid him handsomely to bring them information about their lovers. Occasionally wives gave letters for their husbands, but they paid so poorly, that he did not even bother to keep track of the money he made in this branch of his business. After serving as a messenger for some time and thus acquiring great wealth, he went home to his father, where he was received with inexpressible joy. He made the whole family very comfortable, positions for his father and brothers, all the while handsomely after himself as well. Moral: It is no affliction to have many children, if they all are good looking, courteous, and strong, but if one is sickly or slow-witted, he will be scorned, ridiculed, and despised. However, it is often the little urchin who brings good fortune to the entire family. Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye (Paris, 1697). known in English as 'Hop o' My Thumb,' or as 'Little Tom Thumb.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,Magic Flight,African American,"Note by Bacon and Parsons: Informant, Thelma Cannady of Hampton. She heard the story from her grandmother, who lives at Newport News. Type 313H*.","A. M. Bacon and E. C. Parsons, 'Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia,' Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 35, no. 137 (July - September 1922), pp. 280-81.","Was a little girl named Katie; and an old woman lived in a house by herself, and everybody believed she was a witch. As Katie was passin' by, the old woman opened the door and told her to come in, and the little girl went in and saw a beautiful room with lots of pretty pictures; and the old woman said she would give her some apples to eat. And after she finished eating the apples, the old woman told her to stay with her all the time. An' then Katie remembered that her mother sent her on an errand to get something for supper. She told the ol' woman that she would stay, but she had to get something for her mother for supper, else she wouldn' have anything. An' she told her she could have anything she wanted; and she took a wand and hit the table, an' in Katie's mother's house there came lots of good things, and she was wonderin' where they came from. And Katie 'greed to stay with her for a week. An' at the end of the week she had a dream. She dreamed that a elf came and told her that the witch was goin' to kill her. The next night she dreamed the same thing. The elf left her a comb and a handkerchief, and told her to drop them when the witch came after her. She jumped out the window in the middle of the night; and as she was almos' nearin' home, she looked behind and saw the witch comin' after her. So she dropped her comb, an' a fores' grew up; and it took the witch a long time to get through. Then, after she got through, Katie dropped her handkerchief, and a river came. An' the witch had to cross the river. As she was almos' home, she came to a woods where a wood-cutter was cuttin' down some trees. The woodcutter saw the witch, so he cut off her haid. He took Katie home. And her mother told her that came of children that disobeyed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,Molly Whuppie,England,"Jacobs' source: W. Gregor, 'Mally Whuppy,' Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 2, part 3 (March 1884), pp. 68-71. Gregor's source: 'The following folk-tales have been communicated to me by Mr. Moir, Rector of the Grammar School, Aberdeen. He had them from his mother, who kindly wrote out 'Mally Whuppie' and 'The Red Calf' at my request. Jacobs' revisions to Gregor's text consist primarily of changing the name Mally Whuppy to Molly Whuppy, and substituting standard English terms for the various Scottish dialect expressions used in the original. Gregor's source: 'The following folk-tales have been communicated to me by Mr. Moir, Rector of the Grammar School, Aberdeen. He had them from his mother, who kindly wrote out 'Mally Whuppie' and 'The Red Calf' at my request. Jacobs' revisions to Gregor's text consist primarily of changing the name Mally Whuppy to Molly Whuppy, and substituting standard English terms for the various Scottish dialect expressions used in the original. The tale 'Molly Whuppie' combines elements from several traditional folktale types: Type 327, 'The Children and the Ogre' (a generic heading). Type 327A, 'Hansel and Gretel' (children abandoned by their parents). Type 327B, 'The Brothers [here sisters] and the Ogre' (an ogre tricked into killing his own children). Type 328, 'The Boy [here girl] Steals the Ogre's Treasure.' Type 1119, 'The Ogre Kills His Mother or Wife.' Type 327, 'The Children and the Ogre' (a generic heading). Type 327A, 'Hansel and Gretel' (children abandoned by their parents). Type 327B, 'The Brothers [here sisters] and the Ogre' (an ogre tricked into killing his own children). Type 328, 'The Boy [here girl] Steals the Ogre's Treasure.' Type 1119, 'The Ogre Kills His Mother or Wife.'","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), no. 22, pp. 125-30.","Once upon a time there was a man and a wife had too many children, and they could not get meat for them, so they took the three and left them in a wood. They traveled and traveled and could never see a house. It began to be dark, and they were hungry. At last they saw a light and made for it; it turned out to be a house. They knocked at the door, and a woman came to it, who said, 'What do you want?' They said, 'Please let us in and give us something to eat.' The woman said, 'I can't do that, as my man is a giant, and he would kill you if he comes home.' They begged hard. 'Let us stop for a little while,' said they, 'and we will go away before he comes.' So she took them in, and set them down before the fire, and gave them milk and bread; but just as they had begun to eat, a great knock came to the door, and a dreadful voice said: Fee, fie, fo, fum, I smell the blood of some earthly one. 'Who have you there, wife?' 'Eh,' said the wife, 'it's three poor lassies cold and hungry, and they will go away. Ye won't touch, 'em, man.' He said nothing, but ate up a big supper, and ordered them to stay all night. Now he had three lassies of his own, and they were to sleep in the same bed with the three strangers. The youngest of the three strange lassies was called Molly Whuppie, and she was very clever. She noticed that before they went to bed the giant put straw ropes round her neck and her sisters', and round his own lassies' necks, he put gold chains. So Molly took care and did not fall asleep, but waited till she was sure everyone was sleeping sound. Then she slipped out of bed, and took the straw ropes off her own and her sisters' necks, and took the gold chains off the giant's lassies. She then put the straw ropes on the giant's lassies and the gold on herself and her sisters, and lay down. And in the middle of the night up rose the giant, armed with a great club, and felt for the necks with the straw. It was dark. He took his own lassies out of the bed on to the floor, and battered them until they were dead, and then lay down again, thinking he had managed finely. Molly thought it time she and her sisters were off and away, so she wakened them and told them to be quiet, and they slipped out of the house. They all got out safe, and they ran and ran, and never stopped until morning, when they saw a grand house before them. It turned out to be a king's house; so Molly went in, and told her story to the king. He said, 'Well, Molly, you are a clever girl, and you have managed well; but, if you would manage better, and go back, and steal the giant's sword that hangs on the back of his bed, I would give your eldest sister my eldest son to marry.' Molly said she would try. So she went back, and managed to slip into the giant's house, and crept in below the bed. The giant came home, and ate up a great supper, and went to bed. Molly waited until he was snoring, and she crept out, and reached over the giant and got down the sword; but just as she got it out over the bed it gave a rattle, and up jumped the giant, and Molly ran out at the door and the sword with her; and she ran, and he ran, till they came to the 'Bridge of one hair'; and she got over, but he couldn't and he says, 'Woe worth ye, Molly Whuppie! never ye come again.' And she says: 'Twice yet, carle,' quoth she, 'I'll come to Spain.' So Molly took the sword to the king, and her sister was married to his son. Well, the king he says, 'Ye've managed well, Molly; but if ye would manage better, and steal the purse that lies below the giant's pillow, I would marry your second sister to my second son.' And Molly said she would try. So she set out for the giant's house, and slipped in, and hid again below the bed, and waited till the giant had eaten his supper, and was snoring sound asleep. She slipped out and slipped her hand below the pillow, and got out the purse; but just as she was going out the giant wakened, and ran after her; and she ran, and he ran, till they came to the 'Bridge of one hair,' and she got over, but he couldn't, and he said, 'Woe worth ye, Molly Whuppie! never you come again.' 'Once yet, carle,' quoth she, 'I'll come to Spain.' So Molly took the purse to the king, and her second sister was married to the king's second son. After that the king says to Molly, 'Molly, you are a clever girl, but if you would do better yet, and steal the giant's ring that he wears on his finger, I will give you my youngest son for yourself.' Molly said she would try. So back she goes to the giant's house, and hides herself below the bed. The giant wasn't long ere he came home, and, after he had eaten a great big supper, he went to his bed, and shortly was snoring loud. Molly crept out and reached over the bed, and got hold of the giant's hand, and she pulled and she pulled until she got off the ring; but just as she got it off the giant got up, and gripped her by the hand and he says, 'Now I have caught you, Molly Whuppie; and, if I done as much ill to you as ye have done to me, what would ye do to me?' Molly says, 'I would put you into a sack, and I'd put the cat inside wi' you, and the dog aside you, and a needle and thread and shears, and I'd hang you up upon the wall, and I'd go to the wood, and choose the thickest stick I could get, and I would come home, and take you down, and bang you till you were dead.' 'Well, Molly,' says the giant, 'I'll just do that to you. So he gets a sack, and puts Molly into it, and the cat and the dog beside her, and a needle and thread and shears, and hangs her up upon the wall, and goes to the wood to choose a stick. Molly she sings out, 'Oh, if ye saw what I see.' 'Oh,' says the giant's wife, 'what do you see, Molly?' But Molly never said a word but, 'Oh, if ye saw what I see!' The giants wife begged that Molly would take her up into the sack till she would see what Molly saw. So Molly took the shears and cut a hole in the sack, and took out the needle and thread with her, and jumped down and helped the giants wife up into the sack, and sewed up the hole. The giant's wife saw nothing, and began to ask to get down again; but Molly never minded, but hid herself at the back of the door. Home came the giant, and a great big tree in his hand, and he took down the sack, and began to batter it. His wife cried, 'It's me, man'; but the dog barked and the cat mewed, and he did not know his wife's voice. But Molly came out from the back of the door, and the giant saw her and he ran after her; and he ran, and she ran, till they came to the 'Bridge of one hair,' and she got over, but he couldn't; and he said, 'Woe worth you, Mollie Whuppie! never you come again.' 'Never more, carle,' quoth she, 'will I come again to Spain.' So Molly took the ring to the king, and she was married to his youngest son, and she never saw the giant again. Jacobs' source: W. Gregor, 'Mally Whuppy,' Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 2, part 3 (March 1884), pp. 68-71. The tale 'Molly Whuppie' combines elements from several traditional folktale types:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,Nennillo and Nennella,Giambattista Basile,NA,"Giambattista Basile, The Pentamerone; or, The Story of Stories, translated from the Neapolitan by John Edward Taylor (London: David Bogue, 1848), day 5, tale 8, pp. 370-78.","Woe to him who thinks to find a governess for his children by giving them a stepmother! He only brings into his house the cause of their ruin. There never yet was a stepmother who looked kindly on the children of another; or if by chance such a one were ever found, she would be regarded as a miracle, and be called a white crow. But beside all those of whom you may have heard, I will now tell you of another, to be added to the list of heartless stepmothers, whom you will consider well deserving the punishment she purchased for herself with ready money. There was once a good man named Jannuccio, who had two children, Nennillo and Nennella, whom he loved as much as his own life. But Death having, with the smooth file of Time, severed the prison bars of his wife's soul, he took to himself a cruel woman, who had no sooner set foot in his house than she began to ride the high horse, saying, 'Am I come here indeed to look after other folk's children? A pretty job I have undertaken, to have all this trouble and be for ever teased by a couple of squalling brats! Would that I had broken my neck ere I ever came to this place, to have bad food, worse drink, and get no sleep at night! Here's a life to lead! Forsooth I came as a wife, and not as a servant; but I must find some means of getting rid of these creatures, or it will cost me my life: better to blush once than to grow pale a hundred times; so I've done with them, for I am resolved to send them away, or to leave the house myself forever.' The poor husband, who had some affection for this woman, said to her, 'Softly, wife! Don't be angry, for sugar is dear; and tomorrow morning, before the cock crows, I will remove this annoyance in order to please you.' So the next morning, ere the Dawn had hung out the red counterpane at the window of the East to air it, Jannuccio took the children, one by each hand, and with a good basketful of things to eat upon his arm, he led them to a wood, where an army of poplars and beech trees were holding the shades besieged. Then Jannuccio said, 'My little children, stay here in this wood, and eat and drink merrily; but if you want anything, follow this line of ashes which I have been strewing as we came along; this will be a clue to lead you out of the labyrinth and bring you straight home.' Then giving them both a kiss, he returned weeping to his house. But at the hour when all creatures, summoned by the constables of Night, pay to Nature the tax of needful repose, the two children began to feel afraid at remaining in that lonesome place, where the waters of a river, which was thrashing the impertinent stones for obstructing its course, would have frightened even a hero. So they went slowly along the path of ashes, and it was already midnight ere they reached their home. When Pascozza, their stepmother, saw the children, she acted not like a woman, but a perfect fury; crying aloud, wringing her hands, stamping with her feet, snorting like a frightened horse, and exclaiming, 'What fine piece of work is this? Is there no way of ridding the house of these creatures? Is it possible, husband, that you are determined to keep them here to plague my very life out? Go, take them out of my sight! I'll not wait for the crowing of cocks and the cackling of hens; or else be assured that tomorrow morning I'll go off to my parents' house, for you do not deserve me. I have not brought you so many fine things, only to be made the slave of children who are not my own.' Poor Jannuccio, who saw that matters were growing rather too warm, immediately took the little ones and returned to the wood; where giving the children another basketful of food, he said to them, 'You see, my dears, how this wife of mine -- who is come to my house to be your ruin and a nail in my heart -- hates you; therefore remain in this wood, where the trees, more compassionate, will give you shelter from the sun; where the river, more charitable, will give you drink without poison; and the earth, more kind, will give you a pillow of grass without danger. And when you want food, follow this little path of bran which I have made for you in a straight line, and you can come and seek what you require.' So saying, he turned away his face, not to let himself be seen to weep and dishearten the poor little creatures. When Nennillo and Nennella had eaten all that was in the basket, they wanted to return home; but alas! a jackass -- the son of ill-luck -- had eaten up all the bran that was strewn upon the ground; so they lost their way, and wandered about forlorn in the wood for several days, feeding on acorns and chestnuts which they found fallen on the ground. But as Heaven always extends its arm over the innocent, there came by chance a prince to hunt in that wood. Then Nennillo, hearing the baying of the hounds, was so frightened that he crept into a hollow tree; and Nennella set off running at full speed, and ran until she came out of the wood, and found herself on the seashore. Now it happened that some pirates, who had landed there to get fuel, saw Nennella and carried her off; and their captain took her home with him where he and his wife, having just lost a little girl, took her as their daughter. Meantime Nennillo, who had hidden himself in the tree, was surrounded by the dogs, which made such a furious barking that the prince sent to find out the cause; and when he discovered the pretty little boy, who was so young that he could not tell who were his father and mother, he ordered one of the huntsmen to set him upon his saddle and take him to the royal palace. Then he had him brought up with great care, and instructed in various arts, and among others, he had him taught that of a carver; so that, before three or four years had passed, Nennillo became so expert in his art that he could carve a joint to a hair. Now about this time it was discovered that the captain of the ship who had taken Nennella to his house was a sea-robber, and the people wished to take him prisoner; but getting timely notice from the clerks in the law courts, who were his friends, and whom he kept in his pay, he fled with all his family. It was decreed, however, perhaps by the judgment of Heaven, that he who had committed his crimes upon the sea, upon the sea should suffer the punishment of them; for having embarked in a small boat, no sooner was he upon the open sea than there came such a storm of wind and tumult of the waves, that the boat was upset and all were drowned, all except Nennella, who having had no share in the corsair's robberies, like his wife and children, escaped the danger; for just then a large enchanted fish, which was swimming about the boat, opened its huge throat and swallowed her down. The little girl now thought to herself that her days were surely at an end, when suddenly she found a thing to amaze her inside the fish: beautiful fields and fine gardens, and a splendid mansion, with all that heart could desire, in which she lived like a princess. Then she was carried quickly by the fish to a rock, where it chanced that the prince had come to escape the burning heat of a summer, and to enjoy the cool sea breezes. And whilst a great banquet was preparing, Nennillo had stepped out upon a balcony of the palace on the rock to sharpen some knives, priding himself greatly on acquiring honor from his office. When Nennella saw him through the fish's throat, she cried aloud, Brother, brother, your task is done, The tables are laid out every one; But here in the fish I must sit and sigh, Oh brother, without you I soon shall die. Nennillo at first paid no attention to the voice, but the prince, who was standing on another balcony and had also heard it, turned in the direction whence the sound came, and saw the fish. And when he again heard the same words, he was beside himself with amazement, and ordered a number of servants to try whether by any means they could ensnare the fish and draw it to land. At last, hearing the words 'Brother, brother!' continually repeated, he asked all his servants, one by one, whether any of them had lost a sister. And Nennillo replied, that he recollected, as a dream, having had a sister when the prince found him in the wood, but that he had never since heard any tidings of her. Then the prince told him to go nearer to the fish, and see what was the matter, for perhaps this adventure might concern him. As soon as Nennillo approached the fish, it raised up its head upon the rock, and opening its throat six palms wide, Nennella stepped out, so beautiful that she looked just like a nymph in some interlude, come forth from that animal at the incantation of a magician. And when the prince asked her how it had all happened, she told him a part of her sad story, and the hatred of their stepmother; but not being able to recollect the name of their father nor of their home, the prince caused a proclamation to be issued, commanding that whoever had lost two children, named Nennillo and Nennella, in a wood, should come to the royal palace, and he would there receive joyful news of them. Jannuccio, who had all this time passed a sad and disconsolate life, believing that his children had been devoured by wolves, now hastened with the greatest joy to seek the prince, and told him that he had lost the children. And when he had related the story, how he had been compelled to take them to the wood, the prince gave him a good scolding, calling him a blockhead for allowing a woman to put her heel upon his neck till he was brought to send away two such jewels as his children. But after he had broken Jannuccio's head with these words, he applied to it the plaster of consolation, showing him the children, whom the father embraced and kissed for half an hour without being satisfied. Then the prince made him pull off his jacket, and had him dressed like a lord; and sending for Jannuccio's wife, he showed her those two golden pippins, asked her what that person would deserve who should do them any harm, and even endanger their lives. And she replied, 'For my part, I would put her into a closed cask, and send her rolling down a mountain.' 'So it shall be done!' said the prince. 'The goat has butted at herself. Quick now! you have passed the sentence, and you must suffer it, for having borne these beautiful stepchildren such malice.' So he gave orders that the sentence should be instantly executed. Then choosing a very rich lord among his vassals, he gave him Nennella to wife, and the daughter of another great lord to Nennillo; allowing them enough to live upon, with their father, so that they wanted for nothing in the world. But the stepmother, shut into the cask and shut out from life, kept on crying through the bunghole as long as she had breath: To him who mischief seeks, shall mischief fall; There comes an hour that recompenses all. 5, tale 8, pp. 370-78. Basile's was published posthumously in two volumes titled Lo cunto de li cunti overo lo trattenemiento de peccerille (The Tale of Tales; or, Entertainment for Little Ones, 1634-36). The edition of 1674 appeared under the title Il Pentamerone, in recognition of the work's structure's similarity to that of Boccaccio's Decamerone. Basile's work is arguably the first European fairy-tale collection.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,Old Grule,Moravia,"Moravia, a traditional kingdom and region in central Europe with mixed Slavic and German populations, was incorporated in the twentieth century into Czechoslovakia, and subsequently into the Czech Republic.","Marie Kosch, 'Von der alten Grule,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Mähren (Kremsier: Druck und Commissionsverlag Heinrich Gusek, 1899), pp. 92-95.","Once upon a time there were a father and a mother who had two children, a girl and a boy. The girl's name was Gretel, and the boy's name was Hans. The children were disobedient, and often received beatings. One day they wanted to go into the woods to pick strawberries, but their mother said, 'You are not allowed to go out today. A thunderstorm is approaching, so you have to stay at home.' But the children did not obey. While their mother was busy working, the children took their little baskets from the wall and went into the woods. There they picked strawberries, but they had scarcely begun when it grew dark. A storm arose that whipped the trees fiercely against each other until the branches came flying down. It began to thunder and lightning, followed by hail and rain. The frightened children were sorry that they had not obeyed their mother and remained at home. Fortunately they found a rocky cave, and they crept inside and waited until the rain stopped. After the thunderstorm had passed, they wanted to go home, but -- oh dear -- they no longer knew the way. They walked and walked, but instead of going out of the woods, they only went deeper and deeper into the woods. They grew terribly afraid and called out, 'Father! Mother!' but no one heard them. Night fell, and they saw with terror that they would have to sleep in the woods. Then Gretel said, 'Hans, do you know what? Climb a tree. You like to climb trees, and you can look around. Maybe you'll see a light where we can go.' Hans did this, and he did indeed see a light in the distance. He came down from the tree, took Gretel by the hand, and led her in the direction of the light he had seen. When they arrived there, they saw a little house from which the light was glistening. Looking more closely, they found that it was made of gingerbread. The walls were of gingerbread and the roof of marzipan. They looked around for a ladder, and finding one, they leaned it on the roof and climbed up. There they made themselves comfortable and began breaking off one marzipan shingle after the other and eating them, until there was a hole clear through the roof. Now a witch named Grule lived in this little house, and she liked to eat children more than anything else. She was just about to go to bed when she heard something on her roof. Running outside, she said with a deep voice, 'Who is robbing my house?' 'The wind, the wind,' was Gretel's reply, with a very gentle voice. Satisfied, she went back inside and went to bed. In the meantime the moon had risen, and when the witch put out her light she noticed a large hole in the roof above her bed, and a child's head looking around. She jumped up, ran outside, pulled the children down from the roof, and said, 'Just wait, you worthless brats. I'll teach you to ruin my house. Get inside. You can't leave.' And with these words she put them in an empty chicken coop and locked the door. The next days, and for some time afterward, the witch brought the children good things to eat, for she wanted to fatten them up in order to have a good roast from them. She brought the children all the things they liked to eat: cake, sweets, fruit, and many other things. When she thought that the children must be fat enough, she took a knife to the coop. First she went to Gretel and said, 'Girl, stick out your little finger, but Gretel thought, 'No way,' and held out her apron string. Grule cut into it a little, and said, 'Skinny, skinny.' Then she went to Hans and said, 'Boy, stick out your little finger,' and Hans held out his trouser string. She likewise cut into it and said, 'Skinny, skinny,' then went away. After this she thought, 'What should I give the children to eat to make them fat? Good things don't make them fat. I'll try something else.' And from then on she gave them nothing but flour porridge, which the children soon grew to hate. Some time later the witch again came to the coop with a knife and said to Gretel, 'Girl, stick out your little finger,' and this time Gretel held out her finger. Old Grule cut into it a little, and a drop of blood appeared. Then the witch said, 'Fat, fat.' Then she went to Hans and told him to hold out his finger as well, which he did, just as Gretel had done. She cut into it too, and when it bled a little, she again said, 'Fat, fat.' She went to her kitchen and made a fire in her oven. After it had burned down she took a wooden crook and with it spread the coals evenly across the oven's entire surface. After a while she took a wet straw whisk and swept the coals to the front of the oven, then took them out. Then she went to the coop, opened it, and said, 'Come, children, I have some baked plums in the oven. You can get them out for me.' The two ran for joy into the kitchen with Old Grule, thinking that at last they were going to get something other than the eternal flour porridge. Arriving there, the witch got a baker's peel and told the children to sit on it, so she could push them into the oven. But while Grule was gone, Gretel looked into the oven and saw that there were no plums in it at all. So when Old Grule told her to sit on the peel first, she pretended to be so awkward that she fell off. Then she said, 'My dear Grule, I don't understand how I am supposed to sit on it. Show me, so I can see how.' Then Old Grule pulled her skirts together, sat down on the baker's peel, and said, 'See. This is how to do it.' And while she was thus sitting there, Gretel gave a sign to Hans, and bang, the children pushed the witch into the oven, and Old Grule burned up miserably. Gretel and Hans returned home. Their parents were very happy to see them, for they thought their children had died, but still each of them was given a beating for being disobedient. Source: Marie Kosch, 'Von der alten Grule,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Mähren (Kremsier: Druck und Commissionsverlag Heinrich Gusek, 1899), pp. 92-95. with mixed Slavic and German populations, was incorporated in the twentieth century into Czechoslovakia, and subsequently into the Czech Republic.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,The Little Boy and the Wicked tepmother,Romania,This story merges a tale of type 327A (Hansel and Gretel) with a tale of type 720 (The Juniper Tree). Link to an additional tale of type 720: The Juniper Tree by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.,"'Why Does the Cuckoo Call 'Cuckoo'? The Story of the Little Boy and the Wicked Step-Mother,' M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 74, pp. 225-27.","Once upon a time there was a poor man, who had a wife and two children, a boy and a girl. He was so poor that he possessed nothing in the world but the ashes on his hearth. His wife died, and after a time he married another woman, who was cantankerous and bad natured, and from morning till evening, as long as the day lasted, she gave the poor man no peace, but snarled and shouted at him. The woman said to him, 'Do away with these children. You cannot even keep me. How then can you keep all these mouths?' for was she not a stepmother? The poor man stood her nagging for a long time, but then, one night, she quarreled so much that he promised her that he would take the children into the forest and leave them there. The two children were sitting in the corner but held their peace and heard all that was going on. The next day, the man, taking his ax upon his shoulder, called to the children and said to them, 'Come with me into the forest. I am going to cut wood.' The little children went with him, but before they left, the little girl filled her pocket with ashes from the hearth, and as she walked along she dropped little bits of coal the way they went. After a time they reached a very dense part of the forest, where they could not see their way any longer, and there the man said to the children, 'Wait here for a while. I am only going to cut wood yonder. When I have done I will come back and fetch you home.' And leaving the children there in the thicket, he went away, heavy hearted, and returned home. The children waited for a while, and seeing that their father did not return, the girl knew what he had done. So they slept through the night in the forest, and the next morning, taking her brother by the hand, she followed the trace of the ashes which she had left on the road, and thus came home to their own house. When the stepmother saw them, she did not know what to do with herself. She went almost out of her mind with fury. If she could, she would have swallowed them in a spoonful of water, so furious was she. The husband, who was a weakling, tried to pacify her, and to endeavor to get the children away by one means or another, but did not succeed. When the stepmother found that she could not do anything through her husband, she made up her mind that she herself would get rid of them. So one morning, when her husband had gone away, she took the little boy, and without saying anything to anybody, she killed him and gave him to his sister to cut him up, and prepare a meal for all of them. What was she to do? If she was not to be killed like her brother, she had to do what her stepmother told her. And so she cut him up and cooked him ready for the meal But she took the heart, and hid it away in a hollow of a tree. When the stepmother asked her where the heart was, she said that a dog had come and taken it away. In the evening, when the husband came home, she brought the broth with the meat for the husband to eat, and she sat down and ate of it, and so did the husband, not knowing that he was eating the flesh of his child. The little girl refused to eat it. She would not touch it. After they had finished, she gathered up all the little bones and hid them in the hollow of the tree where she had put the heart. The next morning, out of that hollow of the tree there came a little bird with dark feathers, and sitting on the branch of a tree, began to sing, 'Cuckoo! My sister has cooked me, and my father has eaten me, but I am now a cuckoo and safe from my stepmother.' When the stepmother, who happened to be near the tree, heard what that little bird was singing, in her fury and fright she took a heavy lump of salt which lay near at hand, and threw it at the cuckoo. But instead of hitting it, the lump fell down on her head and killed her on the spot. And the little boy has remained a cuckoo to this very day. Source: 'Why Does the Cuckoo Call 'Cuckoo'? The Story of the Little Boy and the Wicked Step-Mother,' M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 74, pp. 225-27. a tale of type 720 (The Juniper Tree). Grimm.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
327,The Witch,Russia,Type 313H*. This tale is also known by the title 'The Baba Yaga.',"Andrew Lang, The Yellow Fairy Book, new impression (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1906 [first published 1894]), pp. 216-21.","Once upon a time there was a peasant whose wife died, leaving him with two children -- twins -- a boy and a girl. For some years the poor man lived on alone with the children, caring for them as best he could; but everything in the house seemed to go wrong without a woman to look after it, and at last he made up his mind to marry again, feeling that a wife would bring peace and order to his household and take care of his motherless children. So he married, and in the following years several children were born to him; but peace and order did not come to the household. For the stepmother was very cruel to the twins, and beat them, and half starved them, and constantly drove them out of the house; for her one idea was to get them out of the way. All day she thought of nothing but how she should get rid of them; and at last an evil idea came into her head, and she determined to send them out into the great gloomy wood where a wicked witch lived. And so one morning she spoke to them, saying: 'You have been such good children that I am going to send you to visit my granny, who lives in a dear little hut in the wood. You will have to wait upon her and serve her, but you will be well rewarded, for she will give you the best of everything.' So the children left the house together; and the little sister, who was very wise for her years, said to the brother: 'We will first go and see our own dear grandmother, and tell her where our stepmother is sending us.' And when the grandmother heard where they were going, she cried and said: 'You poor motherless children! How I pity you; and yet I can do nothing to help you! Your stepmother is not sending you to her granny, but to a wicked witch who lives in that great gloomy wood. Now listen to me, children. You must be civil and kind to everyone, and never say a cross word to anyone, and never touch a crumb belonging to anyone else. Who knows if, after all, help may not be sent to you?' And she gave her grandchildren a bottle of milk and a piece of ham and a loaf of bread, and they set out for the great gloomy wood. When they reached it they saw in front of them, in the thickest of the trees, a queer little hut, and when they looked into it, there lay the witch, with her head on the threshold of the door, with one foot in one corner and the other in the other corner, and her knees cocked up, almost touching the ceiling. 'Who's there?' she snarled, in an awful voice, when she saw the children. And they answered civilly, though they were so terrified that they hid behind one another, and said: 'Good morning, granny; our stepmother has sent us to wait upon you, and serve you.' 'See that you do it well, then,' growled the witch. 'If I am pleased with you, I'll reward you; but if I am not, I'll put you in a pan and fry you in the oven -- that's what I'll do with you, my pretty dears! You have been gently reared, but you'll find my work hard enough. See if you don't.' And, so saying, she set the girl down to spin yarn, and she gave the boy a sieve in which to carry water from the well, and she herself went out into the wood. Now, as the girl was sitting at her distaff, weeping bitterly because she could not spin, she heard the sound of hundreds of little feet, and from every hole and corner in the hut mice came pattering along the floor, squeaking and saying: Little girl, why are your eyes so red? If you want help, then give us some bread. And the girl gave them the bread that her grandmother had given her. Then the mice told her that the witch had a cat, and the cat was very fond of ham; if she would give the cat her ham, it would show her the way out of the wood, and in the meantime they would spin the yarn for her. So the girl set out to look for the cat, and, as she was hunting about, she met her brother, in great trouble because he could not carry water from the well in a sieve, as it came pouring out as fast as he put it in. And as she was trying to comfort him they heard a rustling of wings, and a flight of wrens alighted on the ground beside them. And the wrens said: Give us some crumbs, then you need not grieve. For you'll find that water will stay in the sieve. Then the twins crumbled their bread on the ground, and the wrens pecked it, and chirruped and chirped. And when they had eaten the last crumb they told the boy to fill up the holes of the sieve with clay, and then to draw water from the well. So he did what they said, and carried the sieve full of water into the hut with out spilling a drop. When they entered the hut the cat was curled up on the floor. So they stroked her, and fed her with ham, and said to her: 'Pussy, grey pussy, tell us how we are to get away from the witch?' Then the cat thanked them for the ham, and gave them a pocket handkerchief and a comb, and told them that when the witch pursued them, as she certainly would, all they had to do was to throw the handkerchief on the ground and run as fast as they could. As soon as the handkerchief touched the ground a deep, broad river would spring up, which would hinder the witch's progress. If she managed to get across it, they must throw the comb behind them and run for their lives, for where the comb fell a dense forest would start up, which would delay the witch so long that they would be able to get safely away. The cat had scarcely finished speaking when the witch returned to see if the children had fulfilled their tasks. 'Well, you have done well enough for today,' she grumbled; 'but tomorrow you'll have something more difficult to do, and if you don't do it well, you pampered brats, straight into the oven you go.' Half dead with fright, and trembling in every limb, the poor children lay down to sleep on a heap of straw in the corner of the hut; but they dared not close their eyes, and scarcely ventured to breathe. In the morning the witch gave the girl two pieces of linen to weave before night, and the boy a pile of wood to cut into chips. Then the witch left them to their tasks, and went out into the wood. As soon as she had gone out of sight the children took the comb and the handkerchief, and, taking one another by the hand, they started and ran, and ran, and ran. And first they met the watchdog, who was going to leap on them and tear them to pieces; but they threw the remains of their bread to him, and he ate them and wagged his tail. Then they were hindered by the birch trees, whose branches almost put their eyes out. But the little sister tied the twigs together with a piece of ribbon, and they got past safely, and, after running through the wood, came out on to the open fields. In the meantime in the hut the cat was busy weaving the linen and tangling the threads as it wove. And the witch returned to see how the children were getting on; and she crept up to the window, and whispered: 'Are you weaving, my little dear?' 'Yes, granny, I am weaving,' answered the cat. When the witch saw that the children had escaped her, she was furious, and, hitting the cat with a porringer, she said: 'Why did you let the children leave the hut? Why did you not scratch their eyes out?' But the cat curled up its tail and put its back up, and answered: 'I have served you all these years and you never even threw me a bone, but the dear children gave me their own piece of ham.' Then the witch was furious with the watchdog and with the birch trees, because they had let the children pass. But the dog answered: 'I have served you all these years and you never gave me so much as a hard crust, but the dear children gave me their own loaf of bread.' And the birch rustled its leaves, and said: 'I have served you longer than I can say, and you never tied a bit of twine even round my branches; and the dear children bound them up with their brightest ribbons.' So the witch saw there was no help to be got from her old servants, and that the best thing she could do was to mount on her broom and set off in pursuit of the children. And as the children ran they heard the sound of the broom sweeping the ground close behind them, so instantly they threw the handkerchief down over their shoulder, and in a moment a deep, broad river flowed behind them. When the witch came up to it, it took her a long time before she found a place which she could ford over on her broomstick; but at last she got across, and continued the chase faster than before. And as the children ran they heard a sound, and the little sister put her ear to the ground, and heard the broom sweeping the earth close behind them; so, quick as thought, she threw the comb down on the ground, and in an instant, as the cat had said, a dense forest sprung up, in which the roots and branches were so closely intertwined, that it was impossible to force a way through it. So when the witch came up to it on her broom she found that there was nothing for it but to turn round and go back to her hut. But the twins ran straight on till they reached their own home. Then they told their father all that they had suffered, and he was so angry with their stepmother that he drove her out of the house, and never let her return; but he and the children lived happily together; and he took care of them himself, and never let a stranger come near them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
66A,"Heyo, House!",African American,NA,"Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus and His Friends: Old Plantation Stories, Songs, and Ballads, with Sketches of Negro Character (Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1892), pp. 143-46. This episode is extracted from a longer tale (pp. 142-46).","One day whiles ole Miss Rabbit en de little Rabs is out pickin' sallid fer dinner, he [Brer Wolf] went in de house, he did, en wait fer Brer Rabbit ter come home. Brer Rabbit had his hours, en dis wuz one un um, en't wan't long 'fo' here he come. He got a mighty quick eye, mon, en he tuck notice dat ev'ything mighty still. When he got little nigher, he tuck notice dat de front door wuz on de crack, en dis make 'im feel funny, kaze he know dat when his ole 'oman en de chillun out, dey allers pulls de door shet en ketch de latch. So he went up a little nigher, en he step thin ez a battercake. He peep here, en he peep dar, yit he ain't see nothin'. He lissen in de chimbley cornder, en he lissen und' de winder, yit he ain't hear nothin'. Den he sorter wipe his mustach en study. He 'low ter hisse'f, 'De pot-rack know what gwine on up de chimbley, de rafters know who's in de loft, de bed-cord know who und' de bed. I ain't no pot-rack, I ain't no rafter, en I ain't no bed-cord, but, please gracious! I 'm gwine ter fin' who's in dat house, en I ain't gwine in dar nudder. Dey mo' ways ter fin' out who fell in de mill-pond widout fallin' in yo'se'f.' 'Some folks,' Uncle Remus went on, 'would 'a' rushed in dar, en ef dey had, dey would n't 'a' rushed out no mo', kaze dey wouldn't 'a' been nothin' 't all lef un um but a little scrap er hide en a han'ful er ha'r.' Brer Rabbit got better sense dan dat. All he ax anybody is ter des gi' 'im han'-roomance, en dem what kin ketch 'im is mo' dan welly-come ter take 'im. Dat 'zackly de kinder man what Brer Rabbit is. He went off a little ways fum de house en clum a 'simmon stump en got up dar en 'gun ter holler, 'He'low, Heyo, house!' De house ain't make no answer, en Brer Wolf, in dar behime de door, open his eyes wide. He ain't know what ter make er dat kinder doin's. Brer Rabbit holler, 'Heyo, house! Why n't you heyo?' House ain't make no answer, en Brer Wolf in dar behime de door sorter move roun' like he gittin' restless in de min'. Brer Rabbit out dar on de 'simmon stump holler mo' louder dan befo', 'Heyo, house! Heyo!' House stan' still, en Brer Wolf in dar behime de door 'gun ter feel col' chills streakin' up and down his back. In all his born days he ain't never hear no gwines on like dat. He peep thoo de crack er de door, but he can't see nothin'. Brer Rabbit holler louder, 'Heyo, house! Ain't you gwine ter heyo? Is you done los' what little manners you had?' Brer Wolf move 'bout wuss'n befo'. He feel des like some un done hit 'im on de funny-bone. Brer Rabbit holler hard ez he kin, but still he ain't git no answer, en den he 'low, 'Sholy sump'n nudder is de matter wid dat house, kaze all de times befo' dis, it been holler'n back at me, 'Heyo, yo'se'f!'' Den Brer Rabbit wait little bit, en bimeby he holler one mo' time, 'Heyo, house!' Ole Brer Wolf try ter talk like he speck a house 'ud talk, en he holler back, 'Heyo, yo'se'f!' Brer Rabbit wunk at hisse'f. He low, 'Heyo, house! why n't you talk hoarse like you got a bad col'?' Den Brer Wolf holler back, hoarse ez he kin, 'Heyo, yo'se'f!' Dis make Brer Rabbit laugh twel a little mo' en he 'd a drapt off'n dat ar 'simmon stump en hurt hisse'f. He 'low, 'Eh-eh, Brer Wolf! dat ain't nigh gwine ter do. You 'll hatter stan' out in de rain a mighty long time 'fo' you kin talk hoarse ez dat house!' 'I let you know,' continued Uncle Remus, laying his hand gently on the little boy's shoulder, 'I let you know, Brer Wolf come a-slinkin' out, en made a break fer home. Atter dat, Brer Rabbit live a long time wid'out any er de yuther creeturs a-pesterin un 'im!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
66A,The Alligator and the Jackal,India,NA,"M[ary Eliza Isabella] Frere, Old Deccan Days; or, Hindoo Fairy Legends Current in Southern India (London: John Murray, 1868), pp. 313-14. This episode is extracted from a longer tale (pp. 309-14).","[After several unsuccessful attempts to capture the jackal], the alligator said to himself, 'I will not allow that little wretch to make fun of me another time, and then run away out of reach; I will show him that I can be more cunning than he fancies.' And early the next morning he crawled as fast as he could to the jackal's den (which was a hole in the side of a hill) and crept into it, and hid himself, waiting for the jackal, who was out, to return home. But when the jackal got near the place he looked about him and thought, 'Dear me, the ground looks as if some heavy creature had been walking over it, and here are great clods of earth knocked down from each side of the door of my den, as if a very big animal had been trying to squeeze himself through it. I certainly will not go inside until I know that all is safe there.' So he called out, 'Little house, pretty house, my sweet little house, why do you not give an answer when I call? If I come, and all is safe and right, you always call out to me. Is anything wrong that you do not speak?' Then the alligator, who was inside, thought, 'If that is the case I had better call out, that he may fancy all is right in his house.' And in as gentle a voice as he could, he said, 'Sweet little jackal.' At hearing these words the jackal felt quite frightened, and thought to himself, 'So the dreadful old alligator is there. I must try to kill him if I can, for if I do not he will certainly catch and kill me some day.' He therefore answered, 'Thank you, my dear little house. I like to hear your pretty voice. I am coming in in a minute, but first I must collect firewood to cook my dinner.' And he ran as fast as he could, and dragged all the dry branches and bits of stick he could find, close up to the mouth of the den. Meantime the alligator inside kept as quiet as a mouse, but he could not help laughing a little to himself, as he thought, 'So I have deceived this tiresome little jackal at last. In a few minutes he will run in here, and then won't I snap him up.' When the jackal had gathered together all the sticks he could find, and put them round the mouth of his den, he set them on fire and pushed them as far into it as possible. There was such a quantity of them that they soon blazed up into a great fire, and the smoke and flames filled the den and smothered the wicked old alligator, and burnt him to death, while the little jackal ran up and down: outside, dancing for joy and singing: 'How do you like my house, my friend? Is it nice and warm? Ding, dong! ding, dong! The alligator is dying! ding, dong, ding, dong! He will trouble me no more. I have defeated my enemy! Ring a ting! ding a ting! ding, ding, dong!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
66A,The Hare and the Lion,Zanzibar,NA,"Edward Steere, Swahili Tales, as Told by Natives of Zanzibar (London: Bell and Daldy, 1870), pp. 375-77. Swahili and English on facing pages. This episode is extracted from a longer tale (pp. 369-77).","[After several unsuccessful attempts to capture the hare, the lion asked some people], 'Where is the hare's house?' And they told him, 'We do not know.' And the hare had said to his wife, 'Let us remove from this house.' And they removed. And the lion went asking, and people told him, 'That is his house on the top of the mountain.' And the lion went, and when he arrived, the hare was not there. And he said, 'I will hide myself inside the house, till when the hare comes with his wife, I will eat them both.' And the hare came, he and his wife. He had heard nothing, till on the road he saw the lion's feet, and he said to his wife, 'You go back, the lion has passed this way looking for me.' And she said, 'I will not go back, I will follow you, my husband.' And he said, 'You have friends to go to, go back.' And she went back. And the hare went on and followed the feet, and saw that they went into his house. And he said [to himself], 'Oho, lion! you are inside.' And he went back cautiously, and went and stood at a distance, and said, 'Salaam house! Salaam house! Salaam house!' And he heard no reply. And the hare said, 'How is this? Every day as I pass this place, if I say, 'Salaam,' the house answers me; but today perhaps there is someone inside it.' The lion was deceived, and replied, 'Salaam.' And he said to him, 'Oho, lion! you are inside, you want to eat me, your son. And where did you hear of a house's talking?' And the lion said, 'Wait for me, that's all.' And the hare ran off, and they chased one another till the lion was tired. And he said to the people, 'The hare has beaten me; there, I do not want him any more.' And he went back.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,Jack Horner and the Innkeeper's Wife,England,NA,"'Jack's Kindness to his old Friend the Innkeeper whom he put in a Way to pay his Debts,' The Pleasant History of Jack Horner (London: J. Drewry, [1781]), ch. 6-7, pp. 13-20.","This man he had a handsome wife, Sweet fair and youthful too, A Quaker lov'd her as his life, An this Jack Horner knew. This Quaker was a 'Squire born, Who did in wealth abound, Thought Jack I'll catch him in the corn, Then put him in the pound. First to the inn-keeper I'll go, And whe I do him find, He soon shall understand and know, I will be truly kind: He met me in a narrow lane, And said, My Friend, good-morrow, The Inn-keeper replied again, My heart is full of sorrow, Two hundred pounds I am in debt, Which I should pay next week, It makes me sigh, lament and fret Having the coin to seek. Quoth Jack if you'll be rul'd by me, I'll put you in a way, How you yourself from debt may free, And all that money pay. Nay, this is joyful news, he cry'd Thou art a friend indeed, Thy wit whall be my rule and guide, For never was more need. Go tell thy loving wife said he, Thy joy and heart's delight, That thou must ride mildes forty three, And shan't be home to night. Then mind the council which I give, And be no ways afraid, For why I tell you as I live, Your debts shall soon be paid. Mount your bay nag and take your cloak With your warm morning-gown, And lodge within a hollow oak, A mile out of the town: There may you sleep in sweet content All night and take your rest, And leave it to my management, Then Sir, a pleasant jest, Next morning you shall there behold, The like ne'er seen before, Which shall produce a sum of Gold, Nay likewise silver store: The Inn-keeper said, Honest John Since you this promise make, Believe me, as I am a man, I will thy council take. Unto his Wife in haste he went And told her he must go A journey, saying be content, For why it must be so. She seemingly began to weep, And with sad sighs reply'd, You know alas! I cannot sleep Without you by my side. Said he kind Wife, do not repine, Why should You sigh and grieve? I go out to a friend jof mine, Some money to receive. This said, with woman's fond deceit, She straitway ceas'd to mourn, And gave him twenty kisses sweet, Wishing his safe return. So soon as he was out of sight, She to the Quaker sent, And order'd him to come at night, That to their heart's content They might be merry sport and play, Her husband being from home, The Quaker said, by Yea and Nay, I sill not fail to come. A sucking pib and capon too, For him she did prepare, For why alas, full well she knew He lov'd such dainty fare. Now just about the close of day, They both to supper fall; Now Jack was there as well as they And walk'd about the hall. He did her fond behaviour note, She on her friend did lean; Jack having his inchanted coat, He was not to be seen. He perfectly did hear and see How they did toy and play, Thought he I will revenged be Before the morning day. Her servant-maid she sent to bed When it grew somewhat late; This done, her Friend she likewise led Up to her chamber straight, Where he did soon strip off his cloaths, Stark-naked to his shirt, And into bed with her he goes, Concluding this not hurt. Jack in the chamber did abide 'Till it was almost day, Where coming to the curtains' side, He heard the Quaker say, That he had now a need to piss, And to the pot must go, Thought Jack I do rejoice at this, A pleasant joke I'll show. The Quaker thinking little harm, Unto the pot he came, While Jack having a cunning charm, He locks him to the same. The good wife often to him cries, Whe sits thou in the cold, Quoth he, I sticks between my thighs, I cannot loose my hold. Quoth she, What is the man a fool, And strait to he she got Then laid one hand upon his tool, And t'other on the pot. There did she tug and pull amain, In hopes to set him free, Yet all their labour prov'd in vain, She stuck as fast as he. They being both in sad distress, Strait for the maid did knock, Who never stood herself to dress, But came up in her smock: The sight she saw was a surprize, So see such noble swingers, She clapt her hands before her eyes, Yet peep'd between her fingers. You saucy slut, then said her dame, Come help us from the pot, The damsel said, I blush for shame To see what he has got: What has he got you saucy sow, Whey do you stand to prate? Come hither soon and help us now, Or 'faith I'll break your pate. Because her mistress should be pleas'd She strove to set them free, But strait the charm the damsel seiz'd, And there they stuck all three. It being now just break of day, And they all linked fast, Jack on his Pipe began to play, And down the stairs he pass'd. The Quaker, Mistress, and her Maid, When they the Pipe did hear, All caper'd to the tune he play'd, And eke their course did steer Into the street, where they advanc'd Naked, save smock and shirt, Like morris-dancers did they prance Up to the knees in dirt: They caper'd high, the piss did fly, Over their heads and ears, And then did run violently Like drops of brinish tears. The Quaker said, by Yea and Nay, We are bewitch'd all three, I hear a pair of bag-pipes play, Yet no one can I see. He brought them to the very oak Where the Inn-keeper lay, Jack for a while he never spoke, But on his pipe did play. The good Man in the hollow tree, Immediately peep'd out, His Neighbour, Wife, and Maid he see All dance and jump about. Who's hear, my kind and loving wife, Likewise my maid young Sue, My Quaking neighbour too ads'life, A jovial whoring crew. Jack broke the Charm, and then the pot Soon loosen'd from their hands, And they were made quite reeking hot With skipping o'er the lands. The Inn-keeper said, Note it well, I'll geld you e'er you go; The Quaker on his knees he fell, And cried some pity show. My precious nutmegs do not wound, For fear I should not live, I'll pay you down one hundred pounds If you will me forgive. No no, quoth Jack we will have two, In lawful ready gold, Or else we will not pardon you, We have you fast in hold. I'll freely give they they demand, But yet take care I pray, The wicked does not understand, That I have walk'd astray. No, no, he dry'd, and home they went, Where they the gold receive; The Inn-keeper is well content, He has no cause to grieve. Then did he lead a happy life, He neither toils nor frets, Thanks to Jack Horner and his Wife, Their wits have paid the debts.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,Stupid Hans,Germany / Poland,Posen was a province of Prussia from 1848 until 1918. The land comprising the former province now belongs to Poland. Most ethnic Germans living in the area were expelled following Germany's World War II defeat in 1945.,"Otto Knoop, Sagen und Erzauml;hlungen aus der Provinz Posen (Posen: Historische Gesellschaft für die Provinz Posen, 1893), pp. 202-204.","Hans was the son of a poor widow. When he was young, the children of wealthy peasants teased him because he was modest and reserved and never repaid evil with evil. Soon everyone in the village called him Stupid Hans. Later he was hired as a farmhand by a wealthy landowner. His master was pleased with his good work, and some time later he proposed that Hans should work an additional seven years, after which he would receive the landowner's daughter as a wife. Hans had long been attracted to the good-looking girl, so he joyfully agreed to the arrangement, then worked with renewed energy and loyalty. Following his example, the other servants worked all the more diligently, and the estate prospered greatly. The landowner's added wealth swelled him with pride, although he owed it almost entirely to his faithful servant Hans, and he soon forgot his promise. At the conclusion of seven years he arranged for his daughter to marry a neighboring wealthy landowner. This breach of promise angered Hans greatly, but he said nothing, waiting instead for the wedding day when he would avenge himself. It happened that he had come into possession of a magic charm in the following manner: Once when he was hauling wood from the forest his wagon-shaft had broken. He fashioned a new one but was unable to attach it to the wagon. After numerous unsuccessful attempts he was about to give up when he heard a small voice behind him saying, 'Hold fast, hold fast!' and the shaft immediately attached itself to the wagon. Hans looked about with amazement, but no one was to be seen. Afterward Hans experimented often with this magical charm, and he now planned to use it for his revenge. The wedding day arrived with a great celebration. The father of the bride spared no expense to make himself look important to his neighbors. In the evening the young couple slipped away from the festivities and retired to their bedroom. Hans followed them without being seen. The young bridegroom, suspecting nothing, embraced his blushing bride, when Hans softly spoke out, 'Hold fast, hold fast!' The young couple could not separate themselves from his embrace. Hans retired quietly to his own bed in the stall. The parents did not discover the young couple's plight until the next morning. They cried out miserably, then sent Hans to the pastor, thinking that through prayer the pastor could cast out the devil who held the poor ones captive. It was a rainy day, and Hans was walking behind the pastor, who lifted his robe whenever he had to wade through a puddle. At such a moment Hans whispered a mighty 'Hold fast, hold fast!' and the pastor was unable to release his robe, but had to continue holding it high. At the house he said a number of prayers, but they did not help, so Hans was sent to fetch a cunning-woman. Their way back led them through a broad ditch filled with water. When the cunning-woman approached it she lifted up her skirts in order to walk across. Hans murmured softly, 'Hold fast, hold fast!' and the cunning-woman was forced to continue on her way while holding her skirts high. The news of the young couple's enchantment brought many neighbors to the scene, and everyone felt sorry for them. When the cunning-woman, weirdly holding up her skirts, approached the wedding house, a brash peasant touched her naked thigh with his tobacco pipe. Hans quickly said, 'Hold fast, hold fast!' and the peasant had to follow her. When the bride's father saw that Hans was laughing mockingly while everyone else was sadly standing by, he cried out, 'This evil was caused by no one other than Hans. It is his revenge. Come, let's beat the daylight out of him!' All hands immediately grabbed him and threw him over a bundle of straw, but when they raised their sticks Hans shouted, 'Hold fast, hold fast!' and not a one of them could move an arm. Recognizing the power of his magic charm, they begged Hans to free them. They promised him a rich land holding and many other valuables. Hans made them swear to this and then called out, 'Let go, let go!' Suddenly they were all free: the young couple, the pastor, the cunning woman, the brash peasant, and the angry neighbors. They all begged Hans never again to make use of the magic charm, which he promised. He received the property and the other valuables as agreed, and he died a wealthy and respected landowner.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,The Count and the Smith,Poland,NA,"Otto Knoop, 'Der Graf und der Schmied,' Ostmärkische Sagen, Märchen und Erzählungen (Lissa im Posen: Oskar Eulitz' Verlag, 1909), no. 60, p. 117.","Once upon a time there was a count, a very wicked man who tormented his people whenever he was able to. He especially vindictive against his smith, whom he despised. One day he said to him, 'On this hill you are to build me a castle, or I will have you torn to pieces.' When the man came home and told his wife what task had been given to him, the woman gave him a rope and said, 'Go into the woods and hang yourself, then you will be safe from the count's demands.' Seeing that he had no other choice, he took the rope and went into the woods. On the way he met a stranger who spoke to him, saying, 'I know what you plan to do, but instead, come with me.' He let him to a haystack and told him to lay down and go to sleep. The man did so. When he awoke, on the hill there was a castle surrounded by a deep moat. He quickly went to the count and showed him the castle. The count was very eager to get a closer look at the castle, and he walked up to it. However, as he was about to cross over the bridge, it collapsed, and he drowned. So the smith took possession of the castle, and he himself became a count.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,The Himphamp,Scandinavia,"Retold from Scandinavian sources, including: Sweden: Pher Arvid Säve, ' Hympä-Gympä,'Gotländska sagor, edited by Herbert Gustavson (Uppsala, 1955), vol. 1, no. 84, pp. 240-41. Collected in the mid-nineteenth century in Gotland. Denmark: Evald Tang Kristensen, 'En Himstergimster,' Efterslæt til 'Skattegraveren' (Kolding: Sjodt og Weiss, 1890), no. 25, pp. 44-46. Denmark: Evald Tang Kristensen, 'Per Smeds Pisk,' Æventyr fra Jylland, vol. 3. Series: Jylke Folkeminder, vol. 12 (Copenhagen: Karl Schønberg, 1895), no. 54, pp. 299-304. Sweden: Pher Arvid Säve, ' Hympä-Gympä,'Gotländska sagor, edited by Herbert Gustavson (Uppsala, 1955), vol. 1, no. 84, pp. 240-41. Collected in the mid-nineteenth century in Gotland. Denmark: Evald Tang Kristensen, 'En Himstergimster,' Efterslæt til 'Skattegraveren' (Kolding: Sjodt og Weiss, 1890), no. 25, pp. 44-46. Denmark: Evald Tang Kristensen, 'Per Smeds Pisk,' Æventyr fra Jylland, vol. 3. Series: Jylke Folkeminder, vol. 12 (Copenhagen: Karl Schønberg, 1895), no. 54, pp. 299-304.",NA,"The blacksmith saw that he was doomed, and in despair wandered into the woods. At last he came to an old woman who asked what was troubling him. He told her of the kings hardheartedness and asked for advise. Then the old woman taught him the magic that he would need to finish the castle. When the king saw the castle, he was amazed and angry, and now he commanded the blacksmith to dig a great moat around the new castle and to build four bridges over the moat, with a gate for each one, and all that within three days. The blacksmith, using the old woman's magic, completed this task in three days as well. The king was even more amazed and more angry, because now he did not know what kind of a difficult and impossible task he would be able to give the blacksmith in order to find an excuse to take his life. Finally the king, quite beside himself, declared, 'If you don't want to lose your life, you must make a himphamp for me in three days!' The smith did not even know what a himphamp was, so more desperate than ever, he walked away. Once again he found the old woman, who said to him, 'Make a chamber pot of iron and place it under your bed. Then hide, and when you see anyone touch it, just say hold fast quietly to yourself, and you will soon see a himphamp!' The blacksmith did what the old woman said. One evening the king came, as usual, to visit the blacksmiths wife, and the smith hid himself where he could watch. The lovers got undressed, and the wife got into bed. Before following her, the king had to use the pot. As soon as he touched the iron pot, the smith whispered, 'Hold fast,' and the king, wearing only his nightshirt, stuck to the pot. The wife jumped out of bed and tried to tear the pot loose, but as soon as she touched it, the smith whispered 'hold fast,' and she too became stuck. The king was enraged at this tomfoolery, and the smith's wife began to cry. Her maid heard the commotion and, half asleep and stark naked, came running to help them. But she too became stuck, just like the others. Then the smith stepped forward and drove all three from the house with an iron club. It was almost daytime, and the embarrassed maid picked up a bundle of hay and tried to cover her shame with it. A cow came by and wanted to get at the hay, but the smith said 'hold fast!' and it also became attached. Then a bull came by and mounted the cow, and the smith called out once more, 'Hold fast!' He drove them -- all stuck to the iron pot -- up one street and down another. The people were just beginning to stir, and they all laughed and jeered. A small boy looked out from his window and shouted, 'What a himphamp!' The townspeople joined the smith, and together they drove the entire himphamp into the deep moat at the castle. Then they made the clever blacksmith their new king.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,The Love of Ares and Aphrodite,"Homer, The Odyssey","Hephaestrus [Vulcan] (the betrayed husband), a crippled smith. Greek god of blacksmiths, artisans, metallurgy, fire, and volcanoes. Aphrodite [Venus], his faithless wife. Ares [Mars], the intruding lover. The Roman counterparts to the principal gods in Homer's story are: Hephaestus = Vulcan. Aphrodite = Venus. Ares = Mars. Hephaestus = Vulcan. Aphrodite = Venus. Ares = Mars.","The Odyssey of Homer, done into English Prose by S. H. Butcher and A. Lang; 3rd edition (New York: Macmillan and Company, 1888), pp. 123-26.","The blind bard and famous harper Demodocus tells the story in song of: Now as the minstrel touched the lyre, he lifted up his voice in sweet song, and he sang of the love of Ares and Aphrodite, of the fair crown, how at the first they lay together in the house of Hephaestus privily; and Ares gave her many gifts, and dishonored the marriage bed of the lord Hephaestus. And anon there came to him one to report the thing, even Helios, that had seen them at their pastime. Now when Hephaestus heard the bitter tidings, he went his way to the forge, devising evil in the deep of his heart, and set the great anvil on the stithy, and wrought fetters that none might snap or loosen, that the lovers might there unmovably remain. Now when he had forged the crafty net in his anger against Ares, he went on his way to the chamber where his marriage bed was set out, and strewed his snares all about the posts of the bed, and many too were hung aloft from the main beam, subtle as spiders' webs, so that none might see them, even of the blessed gods: so cunningly were they forged. Now after he had done winding the snare about the bed, he made as though he would go to Lemnos, that stablished castle, and this was far the dearest of all lands in his sight. But Ares of the golden rein kept no blind watch, what time he saw Hephaestus, the famed craftsman, depart afar. So he went on his way to the house of renowned Hephaestus, eager for the love of crowned Cytherea. Now she was but newly come from her sire, the mighty Cronion, and as it chanced had sat her down; and Ares entered the house, and clasped her hand, and spake, and hailed her: 'Come, my beloved, let us to bed, and take our pleasure of love, for Hephaestus is no longer among his own people; methinks he is already gone to Lemnos, to the Sintians, men of savage speech.' So spake he, and a glad thing it seemed to her to lie with him. So they twain went to the couch, and laid them to sleep, and around them clung the cunning bonds of skilled Hephaestus, so that they could not move nor raise a limb. Then at the last they knew it, when there was no way to flee. Now the famous god of the strong arms drew near to them, having turned him back ere he reached the land of Lemnos. For Helios had kept watch, and told him all. So heavy at heart he went his way to his house, and stood at the entering in of the gate, and wild rage gat hold of him, and he cried terribly, and shouted to all the god: 'Father Zeus, and ye other blessed gods, that live for ever, come hither, that ye may see a mirthful thing and a cruel, for that Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, ever dishonors me by reason of my lameness, and sets her heart on Ares the destroyer, because he is fair and straight of limb, but as for me, feeble was I born. Howbeit, there is none to blame but my father and mother, -- would they had never begotten me! But now shall ye see where these have gone up into my bed, and sleep together in love; and I am troubled at the sight. Yet, methinks, they will not care to lie thus even for a little while longer, despite their great love. Soon will they have no desire to sleep together, but the snare and the bond shall hold them, till her sire give back to me the gifts of wooing, one and all, those that I bestowed upon him for the hand of his shameless girl; for that his daughter is fair, but without discretion.' So spake he; and lo, the gods gathered together to the house of the brazen floor. Poseidon came, the girdler of the earth, and Hermes came, the bringer of luck, and prince Apollo came, the archer. But the lady goddesses abode each within her house for shame. So the gods, the givers of good things, stood in the porch: and laughter unquenchable arose among the blessed gods, as they beheld the sleight of cunning Hephaestus. And thus would one speak, looking to his neighbor: 'Ill deed, ill speed! The slow catcheth the swift! Lo, how Hephaestus, slow as he is, hath overtaken Ares, albeit he is the swiftest of the gods that hold Olympus, by his craft hath he taken him despite his lameness; wherefore surely Ares oweth the fine of the adulterer.' Thus they spake one to the other. But the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, spake to Hermes: 'Hermes, son of Zeus, messenger and giver of good things, wouldst thou be fain, aye, pressed by bonds though it might be, to lie on the couch by golden Aphrodite?' Then the messenger, the slayer of Argos, answered him: 'I would that this might be, Apollo, my prince of archery! So might thrice as many bonds innumerable encompass me about, and all ye gods be looking on and all the goddesses, yet would I lie by golden Aphrodite.' So spake he, and laughter rose among the deathless gods. Howbeit Poseidon laughed not, but was instant with Hephaestus, the renowned artificer, to loose the bonds of Ares: and he uttered his voice, and spake to him winged words: 'Loose him, I pray thee, and I promise even as thou biddest me, that he shall himself pay all fair forfeit in the presence of the deathless gods.' Then the famous god of the strong arms answered him: 'Require not this of me, Poseidon, girdler of the earth. Evil are evil folk's pledges to hold. How could I keep thee bound among the deathless gods, if Ares were to depart, avoiding the debt and the bond ?' Then Poseidon answered him, shaker of the earth: 'Hephaestus, even if Ares avoid the debt and flee away, I myself will pay thee all.' Then the famous god of the strong arms answered him: 'It may not be that I should say thee nay, neither is it meet.' Therewith the mighty Hephaestus loosed the bonds, and the twain, when they were freed from that strong bond, sprang up straightway, and departed, he to Thrace, but laughter-loving Aphrodite went to Paphos of Cyprus, where is her precinct and fragrant altar. There the Graces bathed and anointed her with oil imperishable, such as is laid upon the everlasting gods. And they clad her in lovely raiment, a wonder to see. This was the song the famous minstrel sang.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,The Plaisham,Ireland,Link to this tale contained in a single file: The Plaisham.,"Seumas MacManus, Donegal Fairy Stories (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, Page, and Company, 1915), pp. 1-28.","Nancy and Shamus were man and wife, and they lived all alone together for forty years; but at length a good-for-nothing streel of a fellow named Rory, who lived close by, thought what a fine thing it would be if Shamus would die, and he could marry Nancy, and get the house, farm, and all the stock. So he up and said to Nancy: 'What a pity it is for such a fine-looking woman as you to be bothered with that ould, complainin', good-for-nothing crony of a man that's as full of pains and aches as an egg's full of meat. If you were free of him the morrow, the finest and handsomest young man in the parish would be proud to have you for a wife.' At first Nancy used to laugh at this; but at last, when he kept on at it, it began to prey on Nancy's mind, and she said to young Rory one day: 'I don't believe a word of what you say. Who would take me if Shamus was buried the morra?' 'Why,' says Rory, 'you'd have the pick of the parish. I'd take you myself.' 'Is that true?' says Nancy. 'I pledge you my word,' says Rory, 'I would.' 'Oh, well, even if you would yourself,' says Nancy, 'Shamus won't be buried tomorrow, or maybe, God help me, for ten years to come yet.' 'You've all that in your own hands,' says Rory. 'How's that?' says Nancy. 'Why, you can kill him off,' says Rory. 'I wouldn't have the ould crature's blood on my head,' says Nancy. 'Neither you need,' says Rory. And then he sat down and began to tell Nancy how she could do away with Shamus and still not have his blood on her head. Now there was a prince called Connal, who lived in a wee sod house close by Nancy and Shamus, but whose fathers before him, ere their money was wasted, used to live in a grand castle. So, next day, over Nancy goes to this prince, and to him says: 'Why, Prince Connal, isn't it a shame to see the likes of you livin' in the likes of that house?' 'I know it is,' said he, 'but I cannot do any better.' 'Botheration,' says Nancy, 'you easily can.' 'I wish you would tell me how,' says Prince Connal. 'Why,' says Nancy, 'there's my Shamus has little or nothing to do, an' why don't you make him build you a castle?' 'Ah,' says the prince, laughing, 'sure, Shamus couldn't build me a castle.' Says Nancy: 'You don't know Shamus, for there's not a thing in the wide world he couldn't do if he likes to; but he's that lazy, that if you don't break every bone in his body to make him do it, he won't do it.' 'Is that so?' says Prince Connal. 'That's so,' says Nancy. 'So if you order Shamus to build you a castle an' have it up in three week, or that you'll take his life if he doesn't, you'll soon have a grand castle to live in,' says she. 'Well, if that's so,' says Prince Connal, 'I'll not be long wanting a castle.' So on the very next morning, over he steps to Shamus's, calls Shamus out, and takes him with him to the place he had marked out for the site of his castle, and shows it to Shamus, and tells him he wants him to have a grand castle built and finished on that spot in three weeks' time. 'But,' says Shamus, says he, 'I never built a castle in my life. I know nothing about it, an' I couldn't have you a castle there in thirty-three years, let alone three weeks.' 'O!' says the prince, says he, 'I'm toul' there's no man in Ireland can build a castle better nor faster than you, if you only like to; and if you haven't that castle built on that ground in three weeks,' says he, 'I'll have your life. So now choose for yourself.' And he walked away, and left Shamus standing there. When Shamus heard this, he was a down-hearted man, for he knew that Prince Connal was a man of his word and would not stop at taking any man's life any more than he would from putting the breath out of a beetle. So down he sits and begins to cry; and while Shamus was crying there, up to him comes a Wee Red Man, and says to Shamus: 'What are you crying about?' 'Ah, my poor man,' says Shamus, says he, 'don't be asking me, for there's no use in telling you, you could do nothing to help me.' 'You don't know that,' says the Wee Red Man, says he. 'It's no harm to tell me anyhow.' So Shamus, to relieve his mind, ups and tells the Wee Red Man what Prince Connal had threatened to do to him if he had not a grand castle finished on that spot in three weeks. Says the little man, says he: 'Go to the Fairies' Glen at moonrise the night, and under the rockin' stone at the head of the glen you'll find a white rod. Take that rod with you, and mark out the plan of the castle on this ground with it; then go back and leave the rod where you got it, and by the time you get back again your castle will be finished.' At moonrise that night Shamus, as you may be well assured, was at the rockin' stone at the head of the Glen of the Fairies, and from under it he got a little white rod. He went to the hill where the Prince's castle was to be built, and with the point of the rod he marked out the plan of the castle, and then he went back and left the rod where he got it. The next morning, when Prince Connal got up out of bed and went out of his little sod hut to take the air, his eyes were opened, I tell you, to see the magnificent castle that was standing finished and with the coping-stones on it on the hill above. He lost no time till he went over to thank Shamus for building him such a beautiful castle; and when Nancy heard that the castle was finished, it was she that was the angry woman. She went out and looked at the castle, and she wondered and wondered, too, but she said nothing. She had a long chat with Rory that day again, and from Rory she went off to Prince Connal, and says she: 'Now, didn't I tell you right well what Shamus could do?' 'I see you did,' says Prince Connal, 'and it is very thankful to you I am. I'm contented now for life,' says he, 'and I'll never forget yourself and Shamus.' 'Contented!' says she; 'why, that place isn't half finished yet.' 'How's that?' says Prince Connal. 'Why,' says she, 'you need a beautiful river flowing past that castle, with lovely trees, and birds singing in the branches, and you should have the ocean roaring up beside it.' 'But still,' says Prince Connal, says he, 'one can't have everything. This is a hundred miles from a river and a hundred miles from an ocean, and no trees ever grew on this hill, nor ever could grow on it, and no bird ever sang on it for the last three hundred years.' 'Then all the more reason,' says she, 'why you should have all them things.' 'But I can't have them,' says Prince Connal. 'Can't you?' says she. 'Yes, you can. If you promise to have Shamus's life unless he has you all those things by your castle in three days, you'll soon have all you want,' says Nancy. 'Well, well, that's wonderful,' says Prince Connal, says he, 'and I'll do it.' So he sets out, and goes to Shamus's house, and calls Shamus out to him to tell him that his castle was very bare-looking without something about it. Says he: 'Shamus, I want you to put a beautiful river flowing past it, with plenty of trees and bushes along the banks, and also birds singing in them; and I want you to have the ocean roaring up by it also.' 'But, Prince Connal,' says Shamus, says he, 'you know very well that I couldn't get you them things.' 'Right well I know you can,' says Prince Connal, 'and I'll give you three days to have all them things done; and if you haven't them done at the end of three days, then I'll have your life' And away goes Prince Connal. Poor Shamus, he sat down and began to cry at this, because he knew that he could not do one of these things. And as he was crying and crying he heard a voice in his ear, and looking up he saw the Wee Red Man. 'Shamus, Shamus,' says he, 'what's the matter with you?' 'O,' says Shamus, says he, 'there's no use in telling you what's the matter with me this time. Although you helped me before, there's not a man in all the world could do what I've got to do now.' 'Well, anyhow,' says the Wee Red Man, 'if I can't do you any good, I'll do you no harm.' So Shamus, to relieve his mind, ups and tells the Wee Red Man what's the matter with him. 'Shamus,' says the Wee Red Man, says he, 'I'll tell you what you'll do. When the moon's rising tonight, be at the head of the Glen of the Fairies, and at the spring well there you'll find a cup and a leaf and a feather. Take the leaf and the feather with you, and a cup of water, and go back to the castle. Throw the water from you as far as you can throw it, and then blow the leaf off your right hand, and the feather off your left hand, and see what you'll see.' Shamus promised to do this. And when the moon rose that night, Shamus was at the spring well of the Glen of the Fairies, and he found there a cup, a leaf, and a feather. He lifted a cup of water and took it with him, and the leaf and the feather, and started for the castle. When he came there, he pitched the cup of water from him as far as he could pitch it, and at once the ocean, that was a hundred miles away, came roaring up beside the castle, and a beautiful river that had been flowing a hundred miles on the other side of the castle came flowing down past it into the ocean. Then he blew the leaf off his right hand, and all sorts of lovely trees and bushes sprang up along the river banks. Then he blew the feather off his left hand, and the trees and the bushes were filled with all sorts and varieties of lovely singing birds, that made the most beautiful music he ever had heard. And maybe that was not a surprise to Prince Connal when he got up in the morning and went out. Off he tramped to Shamus's to thank Shamus and Nancy, and when Nancy heard this she was the angry woman. That day she had another long confab with Rory, and from him she went off again to Prince Connal, and asked him how he liked his castle and all its surroundings. He said he was a pleased and proud man, that he was thankful to her and her man, Shamus, and that he would never forget it to them the longest day of his life. 'O, but,' says she, 'you're not content. This night you'll have a great gathering of princes and lords and gentlemen feasting in your castle, and you'll surely want something to amuse them with. You must get a plaisham.' 'What's a plaisham?' said Prince Connal. 'O,' says Nancy, 'it's the most wonderful and most amusing thing in the world; it will keep your guests in good humor for nine days and nine nights after they have seen it.' 'Well,' says Prince Connal, 'that must be a fine thing entirely, and I'm sure I would be might anxious to have it. But,' says he, 'where would I get it or how would I get it?' 'Well,' says Nancy, 'that's easy. If you order Shamus to bring a plaisham to your castle by supper time this night, and promise to have his life if he hasn't it there, he'll soon get it for you.' 'Well, if that's so,' says Prince Connal, 'I'll not be long wanting a plaisham.' So home went Nancy rejoicing this time, for she said to herself that poor old Shamus would not be long living now, because there was no such thing known in the whole wide world as a plaisham; and though Shamus might build castles, and bring oceans and rivers and trees and birds to them, all in one night, he could not get a thing that did not exist and was only invented by Rory. Well, off to Shamus went Prince Connal without much loss of time, and called Shamus out of his little cabin. He told him he was heartily well pleased with all he had done for him. 'But there's one thing more I want you to do, Shamus, and then I'll be content,' says he. 'This night I give a grand supper to the lords, ladies, and gentry of the country, and I want something to amuse them with; so at supper time you must bring me a plaisham.' 'A plaisham! What's that?' says Shamus. 'I don't know,' says Prince Connal. 'No more do I,' says Shamus, 'an' how do you expect me to fetch it to you then?' 'Well,' says Prince Connal, says he, 'this is all there is to be said about it -- if you haven't a plaisham at my castle door at supper time the night, you'll be a dead man.' 'O, O,' says Shamus, says he, and sat down on the ditch and began to cry, while Prince Connal went off home. 'Shamus, Shamus,' says a voice in his ears, 'what are you cryin' about now?' Poor Shamus lifted his head and looked around, and there beside him stood the Wee Red Man. 'O!' says Shamus, says he, 'don't mind asking me,' he says, 'for it's no use in telling you what's the matter with me now. You may build a castle for me' says he, 'and you may bring oceans and rivers to it, and trees and birds; but you couldn't do anything to help me now.' 'How do you know that?' said the Wee Red Man. 'Oh, I know it well,' says Shamus, says he, 'you couldn't give me the thing that never was an' never will be!' 'Well,' says the Wee Red Man, says he, 'tell me what it is anyhow. If I can't do you any good, sure I can't do you any harm.' So, to relieve his mind, Shamus ups and tells him that Prince Connal had ordered him, within twenty-four hours, to have at his castle door a plaisham. 'But,' says Shamus, says he, 'there never was such a thing as that.' 'Sure enough,' says the Wee Red Man, 'there never was. But still, if Prince Connal wants it, we must try to get it for him. This night, Shamus,' says the Wee Red Man, says he, 'go to the head of the Glen of the Fairies, to the sciog bush [Fairy thorn], where you'll find a bone ring hanging on a branch of the thorn. Take it with you back home. When you get home, young Rory will be chatting with your wife in the kitchen. Don't you go in there, but go into the byre [cowshed], and put the ring in the cow's nose; then lie quiet, and you'll soon have a plaisham to drive to Prince Connal's castle door.' Shamus thanked the Wee Red Man, and that night he went to the head of the Glen of the Fairies, and sure enough, he found the ring hanging from one of the branches of the sciog bush. He took it with him, and started for home. When he looked in through the kitchen window, there he saw Nancy and Rory sitting over the fire, chatting and confabbing about how they would get rid of him; but he said nothing, only went into the byre. He put the ring into the brannet cow's nose, and as soon as the ring went into it, the cow began to kick and rear and create a great tenherary of a noise entirely. Then Shamus got in under some hay in the corner. It was no time at all until Nancy was out to find what was wrong with the brannet cow. She struck the cow with her fist to quiet her, but when she hit her, her fist stuck to the cow, and she could not get away. Rory had come running out after Nancy to help her, and Nancy called: 'Rory, Rory, pull me away from the cow.' Rory got hold of her to pull her away, but as he did so his hands stuck to Nancy, and he could not get away himself. Up then jumped Shamus from under the hay in the corner. 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' And out of the byre starts the cow with Nancy stuck to her, and Rory stuck to that, and heads toward the castle, with the cow rearing and rowting, and Nancy and Rory yelling and bawling. They made a terrible din entirely, and roused the whole countryside, who flocked out to see what was the matter. Down past Rory's house the cow went, and Rory's mother, seeing him sticking to Nancy, ran out to pull him away; but when she laid her hand on Rory, she stuck to him; and 'Hup, Hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' So on they went. And Rory's father ran after them to pull the mother away; but when he laid his hand on the mother, he stuck to her; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, 'drive on the plaisham.' On again they went, and next they passed where a man was cleaning out his byre. When the man saw the ridiculous string of them, he flung a graip [fork] and a graipful of manure at them, and it stuck to Rory's father; and 'Hup, Hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' But the man ran after to save his graip, and when he god hold of the graip, he stuck to it; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' On they went; and a tailor came flying out of his house with his lap-board in his hand. He struck the string of them with the lap-board, the lap-board stuck to the last man, and the tailor stuck to it; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' Then they passed a cobbler's. He ran out with his heel-stick, and struck the tailor; but the heel-stick stuck to the tailor, and the cobbler stuck to the heel-stick; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' Then on they went, and they next passed a blacksmith's forge. The blacksmith ran out, and struck the cobbler with his sledge. The sledge stuck to the cobbler, and the blacksmith stuck to the sledge; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' When they came near the castle, they passed a great gentleman's house entirely, and the gentleman came running out, and got hold of the blacksmith to pull him away; but the gentleman stuck to the blacksmith, and could not get away himself; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' The gentleman's wife, seeing him stuck, ran after her man to pull him away; but the wife stuck to the gentleman; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' Then their children ran after them to pull the mother away, and they stuck to the mother; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' Then the butler ran to get hold of the children, and he stuck to them; and the footman ran to get hold of the butler, and tuck to him; and the cook ran to get hold of the footman, and stuck to him; and the servants all ran to get hold of the cook, and they stuck to her; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' And on they went; and when they came up to the castle, the plaisham was a mile long, and the yelling and bawling and noise that they made could be heard anywhere within the four seas of Ireland. The racket was so terrible that Prince Connal and all his guests and all his servants and all in his house came running to the windows to see what was the matter, at all, at all; and when Prince Connal saw what was coming to his house, and heard the racket they were raising, he yelled to his Prime Minister to go and drive them off with a whip. The Prime Minister ran meeting them, and took the whip to them; but the whip stuck to them, and he stuck to the whip; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' Then Prince Connal ordered out all his other ministers and all of his servants to head it off and turn it away from his castle; but every one of the servants that got hold of it stuck to it; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' And the plaisham moved on still for the castle. Then Prince Connal himself, with all his guests, ran out to turn it away; but when Prince Connal laid hands on the plaisham, he stuck to it; and when his guests laid hand on him, they stuck one by one to him; and 'Hup, hup!' says Shamus, says he, 'drive on the plaisham.' And with all the racket and all the noise of the ranting, roaring, rearing, and rawting, in through the castle hall-door drove the plaisham, through and through and out at the other side. The castle itself fell down and disappeared, the bone ring rolled away from the cow's nose, and the plaisham all at once broke up, and when Prince Connal looked around, there was no castle at all, only the sod hut, and he went into it a sorry man. And all the others slunk off home, right heartily ashamed of themselves, for the whole world was laughing at them. Nancy, she went east; and Rory, he went west; and neither one of them was ever heard of more. As for Shamus, he went home to his own little cabin, and lived all alone, happy and contented, for the rest of his life, and may you and I do the same.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,The Raja's Son and the Kotwal's Son,India,Siv (usually spelled Shiva) is one of the principal deities of Hinduism. Durga is an important incarnation of the Hindu Mother Goddess Devi.,"William McCulloch, Bengali Household tales (London, New York, and Toronto: Hodder and Stoughton, 1919), , no. 22, pp. 212-17.","Once upon a time, there lived a raja's son and a kotwal's [local leader's] son who were great friends. They stayed together, and sat together, and, in truth, were quite devoted to one another. One day, the kotwal's son said to the prince, 'Come, Brother Prince, let us go and visit our fathers-in-law.' The other replied, 'Most willingly.' Then the kotwal's son said again, ''Let us both go to the house of each of our fathers-in-law, and introduce one another.' 'Very well,' replied the prince. 'Let us start at once, then,' said the kotwal's son, 'and, first, let us go to my father-in-law's.' 'Certainly, there's no harm in that,' answered the prince. Forthwith they took leave of their parents, and started to pay their visits. As agreed, they went first to the house of the father-in-law of the kotwal's son. When they arrived there, the kotwal's son went straight into the house, while the prince stood waiting outside. His father-in-law was overjoyed at seeing the kotwal's son, and welcomed him most heartily. Then the young man said to the people of the house, 'Outside there I have a servant; let some little attention be paid to him.' The prince was near enough to hear what he said. Thereupon he said, 'I'm rightly served for my folly in doing as I have done. However, I'll wait and see what more is fated to befall me.' Some time after, it happened that there was no grass for the kotwal's son's horse. When this was told him, the kotwal's son said: 'Put a sickle into the hands of that man of mine there, and let him cut some grass and fetch it to the horse.' The people of the house did as he said; a sickle was put into the prince's hands, and he was bidden go and cut grass. The prince took the sickle, thinking, 'What am I to do now?' But he could not help himself, so he set off to cut the grass. He had not been long at work before he cut his finger so badly that it streamed with blood. The prince began to weep bitterly. Just at this moment, Bhagavati and Siva happened to pass along that road. Bhagavati said, 'Thakur, let us see who that is that's weeping there.' Mahadeva answered, 'This is always the way with you. You can't walk along a road without asking questions without end. Who is weeping? Why is he weeping? and so forth -- all such things have continually to be explained to you. Come on, never mind that just now.' 'No, no,' said Bhagavati, 'you must tell me.' What could Mahadeva do? There was nothing for it but to tell her the whole story. Then she said, 'Let us go to the prince.' 'Very well,' answered Mahadeva, 'come along.' With these words, they both walked up to the prince, and Bhagavati asked him, 'Who are you?' The prince at once told her all about himself. Thcn the goddess said, 'Don't be afraid. Touch with your hand the finger that has been cut and say: 'Tis Siv and Durga's order. Quick And firmly, both together stick. The prince did so, and, forthwith, his finger was completely healed. He then sang praises to the god and goddess, while they, after granting him the boon, departed on their way. Having finished cutting, the prince lifted up the bundle of grass upon his head and returned to the house. Many days passed, and still the toils and sufferings of the prince were as great and painful as ever. Accordingly, he said to himself one day, 'I'll teach these people a lesson.' The night following, when the kotwal's son and his wife went to their own room, he took his stand in a secret place so as to be able to watch them. The kotwal's son took up his hookah, and was just beginning to smoke. At that very moment, the prince said: Immediately, the kotwal's son's mouth became inseparably joined to the mouthpiece of the hookah. Then his wife went to take the hookah from him, but, just as her fingers clasped the wooden stem, the prince again repeated the spell: In an instant, her fingers and the hookah stem were securely fastened together. She now called for help to the whole household, and everybody came running to the room. They all began to make great efforts to pull the hookah away. But, as soon as anybody touched it, the prince recited the charm, and hands and hookah were at once glued together. They were all now in a terrible fix. They didn't know what to do. At length the master of the house said, 'Let somebody go and tell the family priest what has happened.' But almost everyone but the prince was fastened to the hookah; so he had to be sent with the message. He was not long in reaching the priest, and told him that the master of the house wished him to come as quick as ever he could. The priest started up in a great hurry. His wife said, 'I will come too.' 'How in the world can you come at this time of night?' he answered. But she said, 'I'm sure that some merriment must be going on at the master's house. That's why you have been sent for; so I'll not stay here alone, let me tell you.' In this way, his wife kept urging the priest for leave to accompany him, until, at length, he said, 'Well, come along, then.' They dismissed the messenger, and, forthwith, started, themselves. It chanced that, at one place, a little stream flowed across the road. When they came to this stream, the priest's wife said to him, 'At this time of night, it's quite impossible for me to cross on foot.' Now the prince had waited for them there, and was sitting by the side of the stream. Hearing the woman speak, he said to the priest, 'Venerable sir, take up my venerable mother on your shoulders and so carry her over. The water here is very shallow.' 'That is a very good idea,' said the priest's wife to her husband. 'I'll get upon your back, and you'll take me across to the other side and set me down there.' What could the poor Brahman do? Seeing no help for it, he took his wife upon his back, and waded with her through the stream to the other side. But, while he was doing so, before he had got across, the prince took care to repeat the spell again: The Brahman, having reached the bank, told his wife to get down, but she couldn't. As often as he said, 'Get down, get down,' she answered, 'I can't get down; I tell you, I can't get down.' Here was another terrible fix. At last the Brahman, with his wife on his back, had to trudge on to his master's house. When he arrived there, the people of the house, seeing the plight he was in, all began to laugh. They asked him, 'Venerable sir, why have you our venerable mother on your back?' The Brahman answered angrily, 'How should I know? I never saw such a disobedient and unmanageable woman.' Then they said, 'Venerable mother, come down.' She answered, 'I can't come down.' Hearing this, they said, 'You're in the very same plight as ourselves. What was the good of our sending for you? The exorcist we sent for to drive out the devils, turns out to be possessed, himself. Where can we go for help now?' Hereupon they all began to ask, 'Where is that servant?' The priest said, 'It was he who came to call me.' Hearing this, the master of the house ordered him to be brought at once. He soon appeared, and the master said to him, 'Tell us what you know about this affair.' He answered, 'I'm only a servant, what should I know?' But the master continued to urge and entreat him, till, at length, he said, 'It is by your own son-in-law's fault that all this has happened. This is what has come of his making me cut grass for his horse.' Then, taking pity upon them, the prince recited this charm: 'Tis Siv and Durga's order, ye That fast were bound, now loosened be. As soon as he had spoken, they were all set free in a moment. And, now that the master of the house knew who the prince was, he showed him all possible respect and attention, and begged him to pardon his having neglected him before. Soon after, the prince returned home to his parents.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,The Smith and the Priest,Germany,NA,"Wilhelm Busch, 'Der Schmied und der Pfaffe,' Ut ôler Welt: Volksmärchen, Sagen, Volkslieder und Reime (Munich: Lothar Joachim Verlag, 1910), no. 29, pp. 74-76.","There was a wayward priest who had fallen for a smith's wife, and she for him. They feared that the husband might notice something, so the priest came up with a plan to get the smith out of the way. Thus one day the priest went to the nobleman and said, 'In your village there is a very talented smith who can make anything that he wants to. His skill is so great that within one night he could build a palace in your courtyard. However, you will have to threaten him with body and soul, otherwise he will refuse.' The nobleman summoned the smith and said, 'I have heard so much about your skill that I want to put it to the test. Build a palace for me in my courtyard, and it must be finished in one night.' 'Oh God,' said the smith, 'that is not possible. I cannot do that.' 'I am telling you,' cried the nobleman, 'if the palace is not finished by tomorrow morning I shall have you hanged without mercy.' The smith sadly returned home to his wife. 'Wife,' he said, 'I am supposed to build a palace for the nobleman tonight, and if I do not succeed I am to die.' The wife said, 'The only thing that you can do is to go away this very evening.' 'Yes,' he said, 'I'd sooner go away as far as my feet can carry me than to lose my life.' So he tied together a bundle, sadly took leave of his wife, and went on his way, thinking that he would never return. And that is just what his wife and the priest wanted. At nightfall the smith came into a forest where he was met by a gray man who greeted him and asked, 'Where to, my dear smith?' 'Oh,' said the smith, 'I was supposed to build a palace for the nobleman tonight. He commanded me to do this under the threat of death, and because I am unable to do so I am running away as far as my feet can carry me.' 'Just go back home,' said the gray man. 'I shall take care of things for you. The palace will be finished tomorrow morning in due time.' So the smith returned home to his wife. She was just about to fetch the priest when she saw her husband approaching, and she cried out with surprise, 'Oh God, you have come back home. What will happen when the palace is not finished in the morning?' 'Let happen what will happen,' said the smith. 'I cannot stand being away from you and from home for so long.' With that he went to bed and fell asleep. The next morning the nobleman arose very early and looked out his window. He could scarcely believe his eyes, for a magnificent palace was standing there, glistening in the first rays of morning sunshine. When the priest learned what had happened and saw that his plan had failed, he went back to the nobleman and said, 'Now you know how skilled the smith is. This time tell him to bring a himphamp to the palace before tomorrow morning. You have to command him under the threat of body and soul, or he will not do it.' Then the nobleman summoned the smith to appear before him a second time, saying, 'You built the palace entirely to my satisfaction; now you must bring a himphamp to the palace by tomorrow morning. With your skill that should be an easy task for you.' 'My lord,' said the smith, 'how can I bring you a himphamp when I don't even know what one is? I cannot do it.' 'That makes no difference,' said the nobleman. 'If there is no himphamp before my palace tomorrow morning I shall have you hanged without mercy.' Then the smith sadly went back home to his wife. 'Oh God, wife,' he said, 'now the nobleman wants me to get a himphamp by tomorrow morning, and if I cannot do so he will have me hanged without mercy.' The wife said, 'The only thing that you can do is to go away this very evening.' So he tied together a bundle, sadly took leave of his wife, and went on his way, thinking that he would never return. That is just what his unfaithful wife and the priest wanted, and the smith had scarcely left when the priest sneaked into his house to be with the wife. Meanwhile the smith once again came into the woods and was again was met by the gray man, who asked, 'Where to, my dear smith?' 'Oh,' said the smith, 'now that the nobleman has the palace he also wants a himphamp, and because I cannot get one for him I am going as far as my feet can carry me.' 'No one other than the priest has put him up to this,' said the gray man. 'He wants your wife and is trying to get you out of the way. Just go back home. The two of them are there together, and when you see the priest giving your wife a kiss, just say 'Hold fast!' Then take your whip and drive the two of them out of your house along the street to the nobleman's palace. Whenever anyone comes and tries to pull them apart, just say 'Hold fast!' and they will all be stuck together until you say 'Let go!' That will turn into a wonderful himphamp.' The smith thanked the gray man and returned home. It was early morning when he arrived at his village, and he sneaked into his house just as the priest was giving his wife a kiss. 'Hold fast!' cried the smith. Hearing the smith's voice, the priest tried to run away, but -- oh dear! -- it was as if he were glued to the woman. Then the smith took his whip from the wall and drove the two of them out of the house and along the street. They came to the priest's house just as his servant girl with her apron full of hay was about to feed the cow. Seeing her master in a bad situation she quickly ran up and took hold of him in order to get him into his own house, so that no one would see his shame. 'Hold fast!' cried the smith, and the priest's servant girl stuck to the others and had to go along with them. At the same time a herder boy came by, playing his pipe and driving his herd along before him. An old cow wanted to eat the hay that the priest's servant girl was carrying in her apron. 'Hold fast!' cried the smith, and the old cow also stuck to the others and had to go along with them. All this was seen by a baker who had just heated his oven and was about to rake out the coals. He quickly ran up and hit the cow with his long oven-rake. 'Hold fast!' cried the smith, and the baker with his long oven-rake also stuck to the others and had to go along with them. That morning the nobleman got up early; he looked out the window into the courtyard just as the smith came up with his himphamp. When he saw it the nobleman began to laugh, and said, 'You have done well, my dear smith. That is a wonderful himphamp that you have brought to me, but turn them loose now, so they can go back home.' Then the smith said, 'Let go!' and with that they all ran back where they had come from: the priest, the wife, the servant girl, the cow, and the baker with his long oven-rake. However, the priest was so shamed that he never again returned to the smith's house.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,The Story of the Himphamp,Germany,NA,"Ulrich Jahn, 'Das Märchen vom Himphamp,' Volksmärchen aus Pommern und Rügen, part 1 (Norden and Leipzig: Diedrich Soltau's Verlag, 1891), no. 44, pp. pp. 239-42.","The smith was normally a kind-hearted man, but did not like how the sexton was behaving, so one day he made it clear to him that he was not to come to eat at the smith's house any more often than he did so at the other villagers, warning him that if he showed up out of turn the smith would throw him out the door. 'Is that how you are going to treat me?' said the sexton to himself. 'I'll show you!' He then went straight to the manor house and told the nobleman why the latter should be getting more out of his people. For example, he said that there was a smith in the village who could do more than just eat bread. It would be easy for him in one night to thresh and clean all the grain in the nobleman's barn. The nobleman held the sexton to be an intelligent and experienced man, so he believed his malicious claim. He immediately sent for the smith, who had no choice but to appear before him. 'My dear craftsman,' said the lord, 'I have learned that you are more skillful than others. Here is a threshing flail. If you haven't threshed and cleaned all the grain in my barn before sunrise tomorrow, I'll have you driven out of the village with shame and curses. Then just try to find another position somewhere else. The smith swore by heaven and earth that the nobleman had been wrongly informed, but nothing he could say was of any help. He was led into the barn, the threshing flail was handed to him, and the barn door was locked behind him. He stood there cursing his fate while the sexton was at the smith's house feasting on roasted chicken and drinking strong beer with the smith's young wife, laughing about his cunning until he almost burst. At nightfall a small gray man suddenly approached the smith and said, 'Why are you just standing here and not beginning your work? Climb up into the loft and throw the sheaves down to me. I'll help you.' The smith did what he was asked to. The little gray man struck each sheaf once with the flail, and the grain and the chaff flew into separate piles on the threshing floor. It all went so fast that the smith could not throw down the sheaves quickly enough. Then the little man helped to throw down the sheaves, and all so terribly fast that long before sunrise all the grain had been threshed and cleaned, just as the nobleman had ordered. Finally the little man produced a huge sack, filled it with the grain, then stood it in front of the manor house so that the lord would see it in the morning as soon as he got out of bed. At sunrise the sexton himself came to the manor house to be present when the smith was driven from the village. When he saw the huge sack filled with threshed grain he at first did not believe his eyes; but then he turned green and yellow with anger, got ahold of himself, wished the smith a good morning, and rushed to the nobleman's room. 'Now, honorable sir, you can see for yourself,' said the malicious man, 'if the peasants in the village are doing enough for you. The smith did what you commanded him to do. Not a single kernel from the threshed grain is missing in the sack. How would it be if you were to give him an even more difficult task for the coming night? Have him carry away the large pile of stones that is in front of the manor house and replace it with a pond filled with the most beautiful goldfish.' This made the nobleman's mouth water, because the pile of stones had annoyed him for a long time, and he would love to have a goldfish pond in front of his house. Therefore he went out and praised the smith for having fulfilled the first task, but then ordered him during the following night to replace the pile of stones with a goldfish pond. If he did not do so he would be driven away with shame and curses. The sexton laughed quietly, because the smith would never be able to fulfill this task. Happily he went to the smith's house and let the young wife serve him a delicious meal. At the same time the smith himself was sadly hammering away at the stones with a sledgehammer, but however hard he tried he could not break off even a single chip. As it grew dark the little gray man appeared again and said, 'Smith, you are not getting anywhere! Stand aside, or a flying stone might hit you in the head!' The smith had scarcely stepped back when the little man struck in the middle of the stones with the hammer, and they flew apart like the wind blows through a pile of chaff, and the smith was happy that he escaped injury. The gray man's blows also dug out a deep hole in the earth. Before long clouds descended over the hole. Alder and birch trees sprouted forth on the banks, as did all kinds of beautiful flowers. Before the smith knew what was happening the pond was finished, and the greatest miracle of all was that it was teeming with the most beautiful shimmering, glistening goldfish. 'Show that to his honorable lordship tomorrow morning,' said the gray man, 'and ask him if he is satisfied.' With that he disappeared. The lord of the manor was indeed satisfied, and he openly praised the smith. The sexton looked on grimly, for his wicked proposals had come to nothing. But he put on a happy face, and with the most honest appearance in the world said to the nobleman, 'Yes, indeed, the smith did was he was supposed to do. But your lordship should require one more task from him. Have this skillful man forge a himphamp, without iron and steel, without fire and anvil, and -- of course -- in one night. That is the greatest masterpiece that the smith knows how to create. If he refuses to forge a himphamp, it is only because of his wickedness -- willfully denying your lordship the right to see such a masterpiece.' The sexton's speech made the nobleman curious, and he said to the smith, 'Your skill has brought me great pleasure. Now I want to know how you forge a himphamp without steel and iron and without fire and anvil.' 'Oh, your honor,' cried the smith, 'I will do anything for you, but as long as I live I cannot possible forge a himphamp without steel and iron and without fire and anvil.' 'Silence!' said the lord. 'If you can thresh all of my grain in one night and create a magnificent goldfish pond in place of a pile of stones, then you can also forge a himphamp for me without steel and iron, without fire and anvil. Get busy now. Tomorrow morning I want to see your work.' The poor man stood there not knowing what to do. At midnight the little gray man came to him and said, 'Idiot, a himphamp is the easiest thing to make. Go home and get your large bullwhip, then hide under your bed without letting your wife know that you are there. Keep your eyes and ears open. As soon as you see something that you don't like just call out 'Himp, hamp, stick together!' and you will soon have a himphamp without steel and iron, without fire and anvil. But don't forget to use your whip.' The smith promised the little gray man faithfully to follow his instructions. On tiptoes he sneaked into his house, took the large bullwhip down from its nail, then crept under the bed. Scarcely a quarter of an hour had passed when his wife set the table, loading it with a fine pork roast, white bread, and good strong beer. A little later the sexton came in, sat down next to the smith's wife, and began to feast. Then he put his arm around the young woman, drank to her health, and described with laughter the task that he tricked the nobleman into giving her husband. Finishing his story, he gave her a kiss. This was too much for the smith hiding under the bed, and he called out 'Himp, hamp, stick together!' And behold, although the two of them, upon hearing the smith's voice, wanted more than anything else to jump out the window, they had to stay where they were. It was as though they had grown together. Then the smith stepped forth from his hiding place -- you saw that coming, didn't you -- and went after the godless couple with his bullwhip. They howled and cried and begged for forgiveness, but to no avail. The next morning, just at sunrise, he drove them out of the house toward the manor house. Underway they came to some oxen from the estate; these turned wild and wanted to gore them. 'Himp, hamp, stick together!' cried the smith angrily, and the oxen stuck to the sexton and the woman, and they had to go along too. Finally, they came to two servants who were blocking their way with a load of hay. 'Himp, hamp, stick together!' was again the cry, and they too had to go along toward the manor house. When they appeared before the nobleman the smith said, 'Look here, my lord, I have forged a himphamp for you, without steel and iron, without fire and anvil.' And with that he beat at the godless couple so fiercely that they both fell down dead. Now the nobleman know for sure why the sexton had praised the smith's abilities so highly.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,The Tale of the Basin,England,"Furrow's text comes from a late fifteenth-century manuscript. Various editors have given this anonymous and untitled poem different titles, for example: The Enchanted Basyn (Robert Jamieson, 1806). The Tale of the Basyn (Charles Henry Hartshorne, 1829; Thomas Wright, 1836; William Carew Haslitt, 1866) The Tale of the Basin (Janay Y. Downing, 1969; Melissa M. Furrow, 1985). The Enchanted Basyn (Robert Jamieson, 1806). The Tale of the Basyn (Charles Henry Hartshorne, 1829; Thomas Wright, 1836; William Carew Haslitt, 1866) The Tale of the Basin (Janay Y. Downing, 1969; Melissa M. Furrow, 1985).","The Tale of the Basin, edited by Melissa M. Furrow (Middle English Texts Series, Univerity of Rochester).","A Prose Summary of the Middle-English Ballad There were once two brothers, the one had inherited the father's house and land; the other became a parson, and through his own good management became quite wealthy. The former married a slovenly woman, whose wasteful ways soon brought them into need, and with time their only hope was to borrow money from the good and thrifty pastor. But they quickly squandered this new-found wealth, and the married brother returned to the good parson requesting additional help. Questioned by the pastor as to the conditions in their household, the husband admitted that a priest, known by the name Sir John, was often a guest in their home. 'I suspect that this Sir John may be up to no good,' warned the pastor, then outlined a plan to his gullible brother to reveal the true purpose of the priest's visits. Accordingly, the husband took the chamber pot from his own bedroom to the pastor, who spoke a charm over it; and the pot was then returned to its normal place beside the married couple's bed. Announcing that he would be away for some time, the husband took leave of his wife. No sooner had he disappeared from view than the wife sent for Sir John and began to prepare a feast for the two of them. Then having eaten their fill, they retired to the bedroom. In the middle of the night the priest arose to make water and picked up the chamber pot with his two hands, but to his alarm he discovered that some mysterious power held him fast to the basin. 'Woman, help me!' he cried to his bed partner. She jumped to his aid, but immediately found herself stuck to him and to the pot as well. Their combined cries awakened the servant girl who ran, stark-naked, to help her mistress, but she too stuck to the pot. What followed was quite a dance: The three of them spilled onto the street just at daybreak, and one after another different villagers tried to pull them apart, only to become stuck to the procession themselves. Finally they were approached by the husband and his brother the parson. The cuckolded husband demanded payment of one hundred pounds from Sir John, threatening to cut of the latter's 'equipment,' unless he complied. Sir John, valuing his private parts, agreed to pay the proposed fine. Hearing these vows, the pastor spoke a charm over the basin, and its prisoners found themselves freed. The shamed priest left forthwith for a different country, and as for the husband and wife, from that time onward they lived together without strife. Various editors have given this anonymous and untitled poem different titles, for example:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,"Vulcan, Mars, and Venus (Ovid)","Ovid, The Metamorphoses","The Metamorphoses is a narrative poem written by by Roman poet Ovid in about the year 8 AD, in which the author retells more than 250 stories from Greek and Roman mythology.","The Metamorphoses of Ovid, translated by Henry T. Riley, vol. 1 (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1899), pp. 144-45.","Immediately he files out some slender chains of brass, and nets, and meshes, which can escape the eye. The finest threads cannot surpass that work, nor yet the cobweb that hangs from the top of the beam. He makes it so, too, as to yield to a slight touch, and a gentle movement, and skillfully arranges it drawn around the bed. When the wife and the gallant come into the same bed, being both caught through the artifice of the husband, and chains prepared by this new contrivance, they are held fast in the very midst of their embraces. The Lemnian God immediately threw open the folding doors of ivory, and admitted the Deities. There they lay disgracefully bound. And yet many a one of the Gods, not the serious ones, could fain wish thus to become disgraced. The Gods of heaven laughed, and for a long time was this the most noted story in all heaven.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
571B,"Vulcan, Mars, and Venus (Rose)",The Romance of the Rose,"This excerpt is from the Roman de la Rose a medieval French poem written in two stages, the first part by Guillaume de Lorris about 1230, and the second part by Jean de Meun about 1275.","Guillaume (de Lorris) and Jean de Meun, The Romance of the Rose, vol. 2 (London: J. M. Dent and Company, 1900), , ch. 74, pp. 234-36, 244-45.","For little wotteth he of life Who thinks he only hath his wife), And then the gods did he convoke, Who crowded round with gibe and joke, Beholding how the pair were ta'en. But many 'mong the host, with pain, Beheld dame Venus' sore distress, While marveling at her loveliness; Nor heard unmoved her bitter cries At suffering such indignities Before her peers in open day. Yet 'twas no marvel, one would say, That Venus unto Mars should give men Herself -- for could she care to live With Vulcan, black from head to foot, Hands, face, and throat begrimed with soot? Such things in Venus' breast must rouse Disgust, though Vulcan were her spouse. Nay, even though she had been paired With Absalom the golden-haired, Or lovely Paris, Priam's son, She scarce had been content with one, For ever would that beauteous queen Do what all women love I ween. Women as free as men are born; It is the law alone hath torn Their charter, and that freedom riven From out their hands by Nature given. For Nature is not such a fool As order, by unbending rule, Margot to keep to Robichon, Nor yet for him the only one To be Marie or fair Perrette, Jane, Agnes, or sweet Mariette, But as, dear son, I scarce need teach, Made each for all and all for each, And every one for all alike, E'en as the taste and fancy strike. So that (although by marriage law They are assigned like things of straw), To satisfy Dame Nature's call, To which they hearken one and all, And strifes and murders to avoid, Whereto they well might be decoyed, Ever have women, foul or fair, Whether the name of maid they bear, Or wife, done all within their power To win back freedom as their dower; Though at great hazards they maintain Their rights, and evils thick as rain Have happed both now and formerly. Ten, nay, a hundred easily, Could I of instances set forth; But let them pass as nowise worth My pains to tell or yours to hear, You'd weary ere the end came near. ... Therefore, dear son, should we be slow Venus and Mars to blame, I trow. And though the Gods in mockery laughed To see the pair by Vulcan's craft Ensnared, yet many a one full fain Had been, could he the place have ta'en Of Mars, in Venus' fond embrace, While Vulcan, mad with his disgrace, Two thousand marks had rather given Than cuckold stand before high heaven. The pair he thus exposed to shame, Reckless of scorn henceforth became, And boldly practiced that which they Strove erst to hide from light of day, Shame and decorum cast aside. And then the Gods told far and wide The tale, till all through heaven 'twas known, From mouth to mouth mid laughter thrown. And Vulcan stormed with rage to think The draught he brewed he needs must drink, Since for his folly naught could he Find balsam, salve, or remedy. Rather than trap the twain, indeed, 'Twere wiser to have given no heed, But silently resolve in mind To be to Venus' failings blind, So long as she towards him behaved With kindness, granting all he craved. From this, let no man e'er forget That grievous folly 'tis to set A trap whereby a wife may be Convicted of inconstancy; For if she find her thus exposed, The door of virtue feels she closed Behind her, and the unhappy wretch, Whom evil-eyed suspicions stretch Upon the rack, when he hath caught His wife, shall ne'er again know aught Of peace or happiness, but die The prey of cruel Jealousy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,Hans-My-Hedgehog,"Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm","The Grimms' source: Dorothea Viehmann (1755-1815). The Grimms first published this tale in 1815 in volume 2 (no. 22) of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen. From the second edition onward it was given number 108. Type 441. The Grimms made only a few revisions (mostly stylistic) to this tale between the first and the last editions. Two changes worth noting are: In the first and second editions, before punishing the first princess by pricking her with his quills, 'he undressed her.' In the final (7th) edition, 'he pulled off her clothes.' Because I do not have access to editions 3-6, I cannot ascertain exactly when this change was made. In the first edition, Hans-My-Hedgehog goes to bed with the second princess before there is any mention of marriage. In the second and following editions, the Grimms added the phrase 'and they were married' before sending the couple off to bed. In the first and second editions, before punishing the first princess by pricking her with his quills, 'he undressed her.' In the final (7th) edition, 'he pulled off her clothes.' Because I do not have access to editions 3-6, I cannot ascertain exactly when this change was made. In the first edition, Hans-My-Hedgehog goes to bed with the second princess before there is any mention of marriage. In the second and following editions, the Grimms added the phrase 'and they were married' before sending the couple off to bed. Link to a file containing only the Grimms' Hans-My-Hedgehog.","Hans mein Igel, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 108.","Once upon a time there was a peasant who had money and land enough, but as rich as he was, there was still something missing from his happiness: He had no children with his wife. Often when he went to the city with the other peasants, they would mock him and ask him why he had no children. He finally became angry, and when he returned home, he said, 'I will have a child, even if it is a hedgehog.' Then his wife had a baby, and the top half was a hedgehog and the bottom half a boy. When she saw the baby, she was horrified and said, 'Now see what you have wished upon us!' The man said, 'It cannot be helped. The boy must be baptized, but we cannot ask anyone to be his godfather.' The woman said, 'And the only name that we can give him is Hans-My-Hedgehog.' When he was baptized, the pastor said, 'Because of his quills he cannot be given an ordinary bed.' So they put a little straw behind the stove and laid him in it. And he could not drink from his mother, for he would have stuck her with his quills. He lay there behind the stove for eight years, and his father grew tired of him, and thought, 'if only he would die.' But he did not die, but just lay there. Now it happened that there was a fair in the city, and the peasant wanted to go. He asked his wife what he should bring her. 'A little meat, some bread rolls, and things for the household,' she said. Then he asked the servant girl, and she wanted a pair of slippers and some fancy stockings. Finally, he also said, 'Hans-My-Hedgehog, what would you like?' 'Father,' he said, 'bring me some bagpipes.' When the peasant returned home he gave his wife what he had brought for her, meat and bread rolls. Then he gave the servant girl the slippers and fancy stockings. And finally he went behind the stove and gave Hans-My-Hedgehog the bagpipes. When Hans-My-Hedgehog had them, he said, 'Father, go to the blacksmith's and have my cock-rooster shod, then I will ride away and never again come back.' The father was happy to get rid of him, so he had his rooster shod, and when it was done, Hans-My-Hedgehog climbed on it and rode away. He took pigs and donkeys with him, to tend in the forest. In the forest the rooster flew into a tall tree with him. There he sat and watched over the donkeys and the pigs. He sat there for years, until finally the herd had grown large. His father knew nothing about him. While sitting in the tree, he played his bagpipes and made beautiful music. One day a king came by. He was lost and heard the music. He was amazed to hear it, and sent a servant to look around and see where it was coming from. He looked here and there but only saw a little animal sitting high in a tree. It looked like a rooster up there with a hedgehog sitting on it making the music. The king said to the servant that he should ask him why he was sitting there, and if he knew the way back to his kingdom. Then Hans-My-Hedgehog climbed down from the tree and told him that he would show him the way if the king would promise in writing to give him the first thing that greeted him at the royal court upon his arrival home. The king thought, 'I can do that easily enough. Hans-My-Hedgehog cannot understand writing, and I can put down what I want to.' Then the king took pen and ink and wrote something, and after he had done so, Hans-My-Hedgehog showed him the way, and he arrived safely at home. His daughter saw him coming from afar, and was so overjoyed that she ran to meet him and kissed him. He thought about Hans-My-Hedgehog and told her what had happened, that he was supposed to have promised the first thing that greeted him to a strange animal that rode a rooster and made beautiful music. But instead he had written that this would not happen, for Hans-My-Hedgehog could not read. The princess was happy about this, and said that it was a good thing, for she would not have gone with him in any event. Hans-My-Hedgehog tended the donkeys and pigs, was of good cheer, and sat in the tree blowing on his bagpipes. Now it happened that another king came this way with his servants and messengers. He too got lost and did not know the way back home because the forest was so large. He too heard the beautiful music from afar, and asked one of his messengers to go and see what it was and where it was coming from. The messenger ran to the tree where he saw Hans-My-Hedgehog astride the cock-rooster. The messenger asked him what he was doing up there. 'I am tending my donkeys and pigs. What is it that you want?' replied Hans-My-Hedgehog. The messenger said that they were lost and could not find their way back to their kingdom, and asked him if he could not show them the way. Then Hans-My-Hedgehog climbed down from the tree with his rooster and told the old king that he would show him the way if he would give him the thing that he first met at home before the royal castle. The king said yes and signed a promise to Hans-My-Hedgehog. When that was done, Hans-My-Hedgehog rode ahead on his rooster showing them the way, and the king safely reached his kingdom. When the king arrived at his court there was great joy. Now he had an only daughter who was very beautiful. She ran out to him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, and was ever so happy that her old father had returned. She asked him where he had been during his long absence, and he told her how he had lost his way and almost not made it home again, but that as he was making his way through a great forest he had come upon a half hedgehog, half human astride a rooster sitting in a tall tree and making beautiful music who had shown him the way, but whom he had promised whatever first met him at the royal court, and it was she herself, and he was terribly sorry. But she promised that she would go with him when he came, for the love of her old father. Hans-My-Hedgehog tended his pigs, and the pigs had more pigs, until there were so many that the whole forest was full. Then Hans-My-Hedgehog let his father know that they should empty out all the stalls in the village, because he was coming with such a large herd of pigs that everyone who wanted to would be able to take part in the slaughter. It saddened the father to hear this, for he thought that Hans-My-Hedgehog had long since died. But Hans-My-Hedgehog mounted his cock-rooster, drove the pigs ahead of himself into the village, and had them butchered. What a slaughter! What a commotion! They could hear the noise two hours away! Afterward Hans-My-Hedgehog said, 'Father, have my cock-rooster shod a second time at the blacksmith's. Then I will ride away and not come back again as long as I live.' So the father had the cock-rooster shod, and was happy that Hans-My-Hedgehog was not coming back. Hans-My-Hedgehog rode into the first kingdom. The king had ordered that if anyone should approach who was carrying bagpipes and riding on a rooster, that he should be shot at, struck down, and stabbed, to prevent him from entering the castle. Thus when Hans-My-Hedgehog rode up, they attacked him with bayonets, but he spurred his rooster on, flew over the gate and up to the king's window. Landing there, he shouted to him, to give him what he had promised, or it would cost him and his daughter their lives. Then the king told the princess to go out to him, in order to save his life and her own as well. She put on a white dress, and her father gave her a carriage with six horses, magnificent servants, money, and property. She climbed aboard and Hans-My-Hedgehog took his place beside her with his rooster and bagpipes. They said farewell and drove off. The king thought that he would never see them again. However, it did not go as he thought it would, for when they had traveled a short distance from the city, Hans-My-Hedgehog pulled off her beautiful clothes and stuck her with his quills until she was bloody all over. 'This is the reward for your deceit. Go away. I do not want you.' With that he sent her back home, and she was cursed as long as she lived. Hans-My-Hedgehog, astride his cock-rooster and carrying his bagpipes, rode on to the second kingdom where he had also helped the king find his way. This one, in contrast, had ordered that if anyone looking like Hans-My-Hedgehog should arrive, he should be saluted and brought to the royal castle with honors and with a military escort. When the princess saw him she was horrified, because he looked so strange, but she thought that nothing could be done about it, because she had promised her father to go with him. She welcomed Hans-My-Hedgehog, and they were married. Then he was taken to the royal table, and she sat next to him while they ate and drank. That evening when it was time to go to bed, she was afraid of his quills, but he told her to have no fear, for he would not hurt her. He told the old king to have four men keep watch by their bedroom door. They should make a large fire. He said that he would take off his hedgehog skin after going into the bedroom, and before getting into bed. The men should immediately pick it up and throw it into the fire, and then stay there until it was completely consumed by the fire. When the clock struck eleven, he went into the bedroom, took off the hedgehog skin, and laid it down by the bed. The men rushed in, grabbed it, and threw it into the fire, and as soon as the fire consumed it, he was redeemed, and he lay there in bed entirely in the shape of a human. But he was as black as coal, as though he had been charred. The king sent for his physician, who washed him with good salves and balms. Then he became white and was a handsome young gentleman. When the princess saw what had happened, she was overjoyed, and they got up and ate and drank. Now their wedding was celebrated for real, and Hans-My-Hedgehog inherited the old king's kingdom. Some years later he traveled with his wife to his father, and said that he was his son. But the father said that he did not have a son. He had had one, but he had been born with quills like a hedgehog and had gone off into the world. Then he said that he was the one, and the old father rejoiced and returned with him to his kingdom. My tale is done, And has gone To Gustchen's home. In the first and second editions, before punishing the first princess by pricking her with his quills, 'he undressed her.' In the final (7th) edition, 'he pulled off her clothes.' Because I do not have access to editions 3-6, I cannot ascertain exactly when this change was made. In the first edition, Hans-My-Hedgehog goes to bed with the second princess before there is any mention of marriage. In the second and following editions, the Grimms added the phrase 'and they were married' before sending the couple off to bed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,King Pig,"Italy, Giovanni Francesco Straparola","We know almost nothing about the personal life of Giovanni Francesco [also spelled Gianfrancesco] Straparola (ca. 1480 - ca. 1557). His two-volume work Le piacevoli notti (1550-1553), called in English The Facetious Nights of Straparola or simply The Nights of Straparola, contains some 75 novellas and fairy tales, some of oriental origin. Obviously patterning his collection after Boccaccio's Decamerone, Straparola depicts here thirteen nights of revelry in a luxurious villa on the island of Murano near Venice. The participants add to the entertainment by telling one another stories. Included are tales of magic and the supernatural as well as bawdy jokes and anecdotes. Straparola's work is one of Europe's earliest collections of stories based largely on folklore, and as such is an important cultural monument.","Giovanni Francesco Straparola, The Facetious Nights, translated by W. G. Waters (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), vol. 1, pp. 133-150 (night 2, tale 1).","Galeotto, King of Anglia, has a son who is born in the shape of a pig. This son marries three wives, and in the end, having thrown off his semblance, becomes a handsome youth. Fair ladies, if man were to spend a thousand years in rendering thanks to his creator for having made him in the form of a human and not of a brute beast, he could not speak gratitude enough. This reflection calls to mind the story of one who was born as a pig, but afterwards became a comely youth. Nevertheless, to his dying day he was known to the people over whom he ruled as King Pig. You must know, dear ladies, that Galeotto, King of Anglia, was a man highly blest in worldly riches, and in his wife Ersilia, the daughter of Matthias, King of Hungary, a princess who, in virtue and beauty, outshone all the other ladies of the time. And Galeotto was a wise king, ruling his land so that no man could hear complaint against him. Though they had been several years married they had no child, wherefore they both of them were much aggrieved. While Ersilia was walking one day in her garden she felt suddenly weary, and remarking hard by a spot covered with fresh green turf, she went up to it and sat down thereon, and, overcome with weariness and soothed by the sweet singing of the birds in the green foliage, she fell asleep. And it chanced that while she slept there passed by three fairies who held mankind somewhat in scorn, and these, when they beheld the sleeping queen, halted, and gazing upon her beauty, took counsel together how they might protect her and throw a spell upon her. When they were agreed, the first cried out, 'I will that no man shall be able to harm her, and that, the next time she lie with her husband, she may be with child and bear a son who shall not have his equal in all the world for beauty.' Then said the second, 'I will that no one shall ever have power to offend her, and that the prince who shall be born of her shall be gifted with every virtue under the sun.' And the third said, 'And I will that she shall be the wisest among women, but that the son whom she shall conceive shall be born in the skin of a pig, with a pig's ways and manners, and in this state he shall be constrained to abide till he shall have three times taken a woman to wife.' As soon as the three fairies had flown away Ersilia awoke, and straightway arose and went back to the palace, taking with her the flowers she had plucked. Not many days had passed before she knew herself to be with child, and when the time of her delivery was come, she gave birth to a son with members like those of a pig and not of a human being. When tidings of this prodigy came to the ears of the king and queen they lamented sore thereanent, and the king, bearing in mind how good and wise his queen was, often felt moved to put this offspring of hers to death and cast it into the sea, in order that she might be spared the shame of having given birth to him. But when he debated in his mind and considered that this son, let him be what he might, was of his own begetting, he put aside the cruel purpose which he had been harboring, and, seized with pity and grief, he made up his mind that the son should be brought up and nurtured like a rational being and not as a brute beast. The child, therefore, being nursed with the greatest care, would often be brought to the queen and put his little snout and his little paws in his mother's lap, and she, moved by natural affection, would caress him by stroking his bristly back with her hand, and embracing and kissing him as if he had been of human form. Then he would wag his tail and give other signs to show that he was conscious of his mother's affection. The pigling, when he grew older, began to talk like a human being, and to wander abroad in the city, but whenever he came near to any mud or dirt he would always wallow therein, after the manner of pigs, and return all covered with filth. Then, when he approached the king and queen, he would rub his sides against their fair garments, defiling them with all manner of dirt, but because he was indeed their own son they bore it all. One day he came home covered with mud and filth, as was his wont, and lay down on his mother's rich robe, and said in a grunting tone, 'Mother, I wish to get married.' When the queen heard this, she replied, 'Do not talk so foolishly. What maid would ever take you for a husband, and think you that any noble or knight would give his daughter to one so dirty and ill-savored as you?' But he kept on grunting that he must have a wife of one sort or another. They queen, not knowing how to manage him in this matter, asked the king what they should do in their trouble, 'Our son wishes to marry, but where shall we find anyone who will take him as a husband?' Every day the pig would come back to his mother with the same demand, 'I must have a wife, and I will never leave you in peace until you procure for me a certain maiden I have seen today, who pleases me greatly.' It happened that this maiden was a daughter of a poor woman who had three daughters. When the queen heard this, she had brought before her the poor woman and her eldest daughter, and said, 'Good mother, you are poor and burdened with children. If you will agree to what I shall say to you, you will be rich. I have this son who is, as you see, in form a pig, and I would fain marry him to your eldest daughter. Do not consider him, but think of the king and of me, and remember that your daughter will inherit this whole kingdom when the king and I shall be dead.' When the young girl listened to the words of the queen she was greatly disturbed in her mind and blushed red for shame, and then said that on no account would she listen to the queen's proposition; but the poor mother besought her so pressingly that at last she yielded. When the pig came home one day, all covered with dirt as usual, his mother said to him, 'My son, we have found for you the wife you desire.' And then she caused to be brought in the bride, who by this time had been robed in sumptuous regal attire, and presented her to the pig prince. When he saw how lovely and desirable she was he was filled with joy, and, all foul and dirty as he was, jumped round about her, endeavoring by his pawing and nuzzling to show some sign of his affection. But she, when she found he was soiling her beautiful dress, thrust him aside; whereupon the pig said to her, 'Why do you push me thus? Have I not had these garments made for you myself?' Then she answered disdainfully, 'No, neither you nor any other of the whole kingdom of hogs has done this thing.' And when the time for going to bed was come the young girl said to herself, 'What am I to do with this foul beast? This very night, while he lies in his first sleep, I will kill him.' The pig prince, who was not far off, heard these words, but said nothing, and when the two retired to their chamber he got into the bed, stinking and dirty as he was, and defiled the sumptuous bed with his filthy paws and snout. He lay down by his spouse, who was not long in falling to sleep, and then he struck her with his sharp hoofs and drove them into her breast so that he killed her. The next morning the queen went to visit her daughter-in-law, and to her great grief found that the pig had killed her; and when he came back from wandering about the city he said, in reply to the queen's bitter reproaches, that he had only wrought with his wife as she was minded to deal with him, and then withdrew in an ill humor. Not many days had passed before the pig prince again began to beseech the queen to allow him to marry one of the other sisters, and because the queen at first would not listen to his petition he persisted in his purpose, and threatened to ruin everything in the place if he could not have her to wife. The queen, when she heard this, went to the king and told him everything, and he made answer that perhaps it would be wiser to kill their ill-fated offspring before he might work some fatal mischief in the city. But the queen felt all the tenderness of a mother toward him, and loved him very dearly in spite of his brutal person, and could not endure the thought of being parted from him; so she summoned once more to the palace the poor woman, together with her second daughter, and held a long discourse with her, begging her the while to give her daughter in marriage. At last the girl assented to take the pig prince for a husband; but her fate was no happier than her sister's, for the bridegroom killed her, as he had killed his other bride, and then fled headlong from the palace. When he came back dirty as usual and smelling so foully that no one could approach him, the king and queen censured him gravely for the outrage he had wrought; but again he cried out boldly that if he had not killed her she would have killed him. As it had happened before, the pig in a very short time began to importune his mother again to let him have to wife the youngest sister, who was much more beautiful than either of the others; and when this request of his was refused steadily, he became more insistent than ever, and in the end began to threaten the queen's life in violent and bloodthirsty words, unless he should have given to him the young girl for his wife. The queen, when she heard this shameful and unnatural speech, was well-nigh broken hearted and like to go out of her mind; but, putting all other considerations aside, she called for the poor woman and her third daughter, who was named Meldina, and thus addressed her, 'Meldina, my child, I should be greatly pleased if you would take the pig prince for a husband; pay no regard to him, but to his father and to me; then, if you will be prudent and bear patiently with him, you may be the happiest woman in the world.' To this speech Meldina answered, with a grateful smile upon her face, that she was quite content to do as the queen bade her, and thanked her humbly for deigning to choose her as a daughter-in-law; for, seeing that she herself had nothing in the world, it was indeed great good fortune that she, a poor girl, should become the daughter-in-law of a potent sovereign. The queen, when she heard this modest and amiable reply, could not keep back her tears for the happiness she felt; but she feared all the time that the same fate might be in store for Meldina as her sisters. When the new bride had been clothed in rich attire and decked with jewels, and was awaiting the bridegroom, the pig prince came in, filthier and more muddy than ever; but she spread out her rich gown and besought him to lie down by her side. Whereupon the queen bade her to thrust him away, but to this she would not consent, and spoke thus to the queen, 'There are three wise sayings, gracious lady, which I remember to have heard. The first is that it is folly to waste time in searching for that which cannot be found. The second is that we should believe nothing we may hear, except those things which bear the marks of sense and reason. The third is that, when once you have got possession of some rare and precious treasure, prize it well and keep a firm hold upon it.' When the maiden had finished speaking, the pig prince, who had been wide awake and had heard all that she had said, got up, kissed her on the face and neck and bosom and shoulders with his tongue, and she was not backward in returning his caresses; so that he was fired with a warm love for her. As soon as the time for retiring for the night had come, the bride went to bed and awaited her unseemly spouse, and, as soon as he came, she raised the coverlet and bade him lie near to her and put his head upon the pillow, covering him carefully with the bedclothes and drawing the curtains so that he might feel no cold. When morning had come the pig got up and ranged abroad to pasture, as was his wont, and very soon after the queen went to the bride's chamber, expecting to find that she had met with the same fate as her sisters; but when she saw her lying in the bed, all defiled with mud as it was, and looking pleased and contented, she thanked God for this favor, that her son had at last found a spouse according to his liking. One day, soon after this, when the pig prince was conversing pleasantly with his wife, he said to her, 'Meldina, my beloved wife, if I could be fully sure that you could keep a secret, I would now tell you one of mine; something I have kept hidden for many years. I know you to be very prudent and wise, and that you love me truly; so I wish to make you the sharer of my secret.' 'You may safely tell it to me, if you will,' said Meldina, 'for I promise never to reveal it to anyone without your consent.' Whereupon, being now sure of his wife's discretion and fidelity, her straightway shook off from his body the foul and dirty skin of the pig, and stood revealed as a handsome and well shaped young man, and all that night rested closely folded in the arms of his beloved wife. But he charged her solemnly to keep silence about this wonder she had seen, for the time had not yet come for his complete delivery from this misery. So when he left the bed he donned the dirty pig's hid once more. I leave you to imagine for yourselves how great was the great joy of Meldina when she discovered that, instead of a pig, she had gained a handsome and gallant young prince for a husband. Not long after this she proved to with child, and when the time her delivery came she gave birth to a fair and shapely boy. The joy of the king and queen was unbounded, especially when they found that the newborn child had the form of a human being and not that of a beast. But the burden of the strange and weighty secret which her husband had confided to her pressed heavily upon Meldina, and one day she went to her mother-in-law and said, 'Gracious queen, when first I married your son I believed I was married to a beast, but not I find that you have given me the comeliest, the worthiest, and the most gallant young man ever born into the world to be my husband. For know that when he comes into my chamber to lie by my side, he casts off his dirty hide and leaves it on the ground, and is changed into a graceful handsome youth. No one could believe this marvel save they saw it with their own eyes.' When the queen heard these words she deemed that her daughter-in-law must be jesting with her, but Meldina still persisted that what she said was true. And when the queen demanded to know how she might witness with her own eyes the truth of this thing, Meldina replied, 'Come to my chamber tonight, when we shall be in our first sleep; the door will be open, and you will find that what I tell you is the truth.' That same night, when the looked-for time had come, and all were gone to rest, the queen let some torches be kindled and went, accompanied by the king, to the chamber of her son, and when she had entered she saw the pig's skin lying on the floor in the corner of the room, and having gone to the bedside, found therein a handsome young man in whose arms Meldina was lying. And when they saw this, the delight of the king and queen was very great, and the king gave order that before anyone should leave the chamber the pig's hide should be torn to shreds. So great was their joy over the recovery of their son that they well-nigh died thereof. And King Galeotto, when he saw that he had so fine a son, and a grandchild likewise, laid aside his diadem and his royal robes, and advanced to his place his son, whom he let be crowned with the greatest pomp, and who was ever afterwards known as King Pig. Thus, to the great contentment of all the people, the young king began his reign, and he lived long and happily with Meldina his beloved wife. translated by W. G. Waters (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), vol. We know almost nothing about the personal life of Giovanni Francesco [also spelled Gianfrancesco] Straparola (ca. 1480 - ca. 1557). His two-volume work Le piacevoli notti (1550-1553), called in English The Facetious Nights of Straparola or simply The Nights of Straparola, contains some 75 novellas and fairy tales, some of oriental origin. Obviously patterning his collection after Boccaccio's Decamerone, Straparola depicts here thirteen nights of revelry in a luxurious villa on the island of Murano near Venice. The participants add to the entertainment by telling one another stories. Included are tales of magic and the supernatural as well as bawdy jokes and anecdotes. Straparola's work is one of Europe's earliest collections of stories based largely on folklore, and as such is an important cultural monument.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,Prince Hedgehog,Russia,NA,"Louise Seymour Houghton, The Russian Grandmother's Wonder Tales (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1913), pp. 205-211.","The proverb says, 'What one wishes for, that one gets,' and so it was with her, for she shortly gave birth to a son who looked exactly like a hedgehog and was covered all over with sharp spines. Far and wide the news was spread abroad through the world, and the parents were much ashamed of such a son. Nevertheless, they had him educated in all useful knowledge, and he had so clever a head that by the time he was fourteen he knew all knowledge through and through. By this time his parents could no longer endure him near them, and they assigned to him a great forest as a place of abode, feeling certain that he would then fall a prey to a wolf or a fox or some sort of a beast. They strictly commanded him not to return before the expiration of seven years. They gave him permission, however, to take with him anything that he especially cared for; but he would take nothing with him except a sow and a great cock upon which he was wont to ride. With these he went away into the forest. Year out, year in, Prince Hedgehog remained in the forest, and he raised so many swine that at last they were too many for even him to count. Finally he thought to himself, 'My seven years are up; I will go back home.' So he quickly gathered his swine together and drove them to the city of his parents. When they perceived afar off the immense drove of swine, they thought, 'Here comes a wealthy swine-drover.' But soon they recognized their son, who was riding upon his cock behind the swine and making straight for the imperial castle. So they received him into the castle and showed him the best of hospitality, dividing his swine among different pens, for they filled every swine-pen in the city. While they were at table they asked their son how he enjoyed himself in the forest, and said that if he wished to go back there they would give him a goat this time. But he declared that he was not going back, for he had made up his mind to marry. The astonished parents replied, 'Why, what maiden would love you and take you for a husband?' The poor youth knew no answer to this question, so he mounted his cock and rode away. Now the parents thought he would never come back again. But he was a clever fellow, and he went as a suitor to the king of a neighboring country who had three unmarried daughters. When he found himself near the city the cock flew up with him to the window of the room in which the company were assembled enjoying themselves. The cock crowed with all his might, until the chamberlain went to the window and asked what he wanted. The hedgehog answered, ' I come a-wooing.' Then the king permitted him to come into the room, and offered him the welcome-cup, according to ancient manner and custom. Then the king again asked him what business brought him, and Hedgehog, the imperial prince, answered him shortly and to the point, 'I come a-wooing.' The king immediately assured him that he had only to choose one of the three unmarried daughters. The Hedgehog chose the youngest, but she would not have him for a husband until her father threatened to have her shot unless she gave a cheerful consent. She saw no help for it, and thought to herself, 'I can never get out of this scrape; come what may, I'll take him. We have gold and treasure in abundance, and we shall easily get along through life.' When the hedgehog had received her consent he went back to his parents and told them what had happened to him. His parents would not believe him, and sent the chamberlain to inquire if it was true that the emperor's son, the hedgehog, was to marry the king's daughter. When the chamberlain returned and told the emperor that his son had spoken the truth, the emperor ordered his horses to be harnessed, and went with his wife to visit the king, riding in their carriage, while their son rode behind on his cock. When they arrived they found everything ready for the wedding. But, according to custom, the bridal party were obliged to go to the church a few days before the marriage to pray and confess to the priest. When the young lady came to confession she asked the priest how she might manage to get rid of the prince and not be obliged to marry him. The priest gave her a sound scolding, and said in conclusion, 'Just keep quiet and all will end well. Mark what I say, and remember it well. When you are come into the church and are taking your place in the sacristy, do you follow close behind the others. When you get to the high altar sprinkle your bridegroom thrice with holy- water, and be careful to prick yourself each time with one of his spines. Then three drops of blood will trickle out of your hand, and you must let these also fall upon him.' After confession the bridal pair went home to breakfast. The next day -- it was a Sunday -- the bridal party went at half past eleven into the church, and the bride did in every respect as the priest had counselled. And, behold, the hedgehog was transformed into a beautiful youth whose like was not to be found in all the world. Then the bridal party sat down upon the benches and heard mass, and the priest united them and preached them a sermon how they should cleave to each other all their lives long. After that they went back to the house, and the wedding feast lasted until late in the night. The wine was very good. I sat at the head of the last table, drank yellow wine out of a painted cup and ate half a swine all by myself.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,The Enchanted Pig,Romania,"The second half of this tale belongs to type 425 (The Search for the Lost Husband). Link to another translation of this tale: Ignácz Kúnos, 'The Enchanted Hog,' Turkish [and Romanian] Fairy Tales and Folk Tales, translated from the Hungarian version by R. Nisbet Bain (London: Lawrence and Bullen, 1896), pp. 222-43. Lang's source: Mite Kremnitz, Rumänische Märchen (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich, 1882), no. 5, pp. 48-66.","Andrew Lang, The Red Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1895), pp. 104-115.","Once upon a time there lived a king who had three daughters. Now it happened that he had to go out to battle, so he called his daughters and said to them, 'My dear children, I am obliged to go to the wars. The enemy is approaching us with a large army. It is a great grief to me to leave you all. During my absence take care of yourselves and be good girls; behave well and look after everything in the house. You may walk in the garden, and you may go into all the rooms in the palace, except the room at the back in the right-hand corner; into that you must not enter, for harm would befall you.' 'You may keep your mind easy, father,' they replied. 'We have never been disobedient to you. Go in peace, and may heaven give you a glorious victory!' When everything was ready for his departure, the king gave them the keys of all the rooms and reminded them once more of what he had said. His daughters kissed his hands with tears in their eyes, and wished him prosperity, and he gave the eldest the keys. Now when the girls found themselves alone they felt so sad and dull that they did not know what to do. So, to pass the time, they decided to work for part of the day, to read for part of the day, and to enjoy themselves in the garden for part of the day. As long as they did this all went well with them. But this happy state of things did not last long. Every day they grew more and more curious, and you will see what the end of that was. 'Sisters,' said the eldest princess, 'all day long we sew, spin, and read. We have been several days quite alone, and there is no corner of the garden that we have not explored. We have been in all the rooms of our father's palace, and have admired the rich and beautiful furniture; why should not we go into the room that our father forbad us to enter?' 'Sister,' said the youngest, 'I cannot think how you can tempt us to break our father's command. When he told us not to go into that room he must have known what he was saying, and have had a good reason for saying it.' 'Surely the sky won't fall about our heads if we do go in,' said the second princess. 'Dragons and such like monsters that would devour us will not be hidden in the room. And how will our father ever find out that we have gone in?' While they were speaking thus, encouraging each other, they had reached the room; the eldest fitted the key into the lock, and snap! the door stood open. The three girls entered, and what do you think they saw? The room was quite empty, and without any ornament, but in the middle stood a large table, with a gorgeous cloth, and on it lay a big open book. Now the princesses were curious to know what was written in the book, especially the eldest, and this is what she read, 'The eldest daughter of this king will marry a prince from the East.' Then the second girl stepped forward, and turning over the page she read, 'The second daughter of this king will marry a prince from the West.' The girls were delighted, and laughed and teased each other. But the youngest princess did not want to go near the table or to open the book. Her elder sisters however left her no peace, and will she, nill she, they dragged her up to the table, and in fear and trembling she turned over the page and read, 'The youngest daughter of this king will be married to a pig from the North.' Now if a thunderbolt had fallen upon her from heaven it would not have frightened her more. She almost died of misery, and if her sisters had not held her up, she would have sunk to the ground and cut her head open. When she came out of the fainting fit into which she had fallen in her terror, her sisters tried to comfort her, saying, 'How can you believe such nonsense? When did it ever happen that a king's daughter married a pig?' 'What a baby you are!' said the other sister; 'has not our father enough soldiers to protect you, even if the disgusting creature did come to woo you?' The youngest princess would fain have let herself be convinced by her sisters' words, and have believed what they said, but her heart was heavy. Her thoughts kept turning to the book, in which stood written that great happiness waited her sisters, but that a fate was in store for her such as had never before been known in the world. Besides, the thought weighed on her heart that she had been guilty of disobeying her father. She began to get quite ill, and in a few days she was so changed that it was difficult to recognize her; formerly she had been rosy and merry, now she was pale and nothing gave her any pleasure. She gave up playing with her sisters in the garden, ceased to gather flowers to put in her hair, and never sang when they sat together at their spinning and sewing. In the meantime the king won a great victory, and having completely defeated and driven off the enemy, he hurried home to his daughters, to whom his thoughts had constantly turned. Everyone went out to meet him with cymbals and fifes and drums, and there was great rejoicing over his victorious return. The king's first act on reaching home was to thank Heaven for the victory he had gained over the enemies who had risen against him. He then entered his palace, and the three princesses stepped forward to meet him. His joy was great when he saw that they were all well, for the youngest did her best not to appear sad. In spite of this, however, it was not long before the king noticed that his third daughter was getting very thin and sad looking. And all of a sudden he felt as if a hot iron were entering his soul, for it flashed through his mind that she had disobeyed his word. He felt sure he was right; but to be quite certain he called his daughters to him, questioned them, and ordered them to speak the truth. They confessed everything, but took good care not to say which had led the other two into temptation. The king was so distressed when he heard it that he was almost overcome by grief. But he took heart and tried to comfort his daughters, who looked frightened to death. He saw that what had happened had happened, and that a thousand words would not alter matters by a hair's breadth. Well, these events had almost been forgotten when one fine day a prince from the East appeared at the court and asked the king for the hand of his eldest daughter. The king gladly gave his consent. A great wedding banquet was prepared, and after three days of feasting the happy pair were accompanied to the frontier with much ceremony and rejoicing. After some time the same thing befell the second daughter, who was wooed and won by a prince from the West. Now when the young princess saw that everything fell out exactly as had been written in the book, she grew very sad. She refused to eat, and would not put on her fine clothes nor go out walking, and declared that she would rather die than become a laughing-stock to the world. But the king would not allow her to do anything so wrong, and he comforted her in all possible ways. So the time passed, till lo and behold! one fine day an enormous pig from the North walked into the palace, and going straight up to the king said, 'Hail! oh king. May your life be as prosperous and bright as sunrise on a clear day!' 'I am glad to see you well, friend,' answered the king, 'but what wind has brought you hither?' 'I come a wooing,' replied the pig. Now the king was astonished to hear so fine a speech from a pig, and at once it occurred to him that something strange was the matter. He would gladly have turned the pig's thoughts in another direction, as he did not wish to give him the princess for a wife; but when he heard that the court and the whole street were full of all the pigs in the world he saw that there was no escape, and that he must give his consent. The pig was not satisfied with mere promises, but insisted that the wedding should take place within a week, and would not go away till the king had sworn a royal oath upon it. The king then sent for his daughter, and advised her to submit to fate, as there was nothing else to be done. And he added, 'My child, the words and whole behavior of this pig are quite unlike those of other pigs. I do not myself believe that he always was a pig. Depend upon it some magic or witchcraft has been at work. Obey him, and do everything that he wishes, and I feel sure that Heaven will shortly send you release.' 'If you wish me to do this, dear father, I will do it,' replied the girl. In the meantime the wedding day drew near. After the marriage, the pig and his bride set out for his home in one of the royal carriages. On the way they passed a great bog, and the pig ordered the carriage to stop, and got out and rolled about in the mire till he was covered with mud from head to foot; then he got back into the carriage and told his wife to kiss him. What was the poor girl to do? She bethought herself of her father's words, and, pulling out her pocket handkerchief, she gently wiped the pig's snout and kissed it. By the time they reached the pig's dwelling, which stood in a thick wood, it was quite dark. They sat down quietly for a little, as they were tired after their drive; then they had supper together, and lay down to rest. During the night the princess noticed that the pig had changed into a man. She was not a little surprised, but remembering her father's words, she took courage, determined to wait and see what would happen. And now she noticed that every night the pig became a man, and every morning he was changed into a pig before she awoke. This happened several nights running, and the princess could not understand it at all. Clearly her husband must be bewitched. In time she grew quite fond of him, he was so kind and gentle. One fine day as she was sitting alone she saw an old witch go past. She felt quite excited, as it was so long since she had seen a human being, and she called out to the old woman to come and talk to her. Among other things the witch told her that she understood all magic arts, and that she could foretell the future, and knew the healing powers of herbs and plants. 'I shall be grateful to you all my life, old dame,' said the princess, 'if you will tell me what is the matter with my husband. Why is he a pig by day and a human being by night?' 'I was just going to tell you that one thing, my dear, to show you what a good fortuneteller I am. If you like, I will give you a herb to break the spell.' 'If you will only give it to me,' said the princess, 'I will give you anything you choose to ask for, for I cannot bear to see him in this state.' 'Here, then, my dear child,' said the witch, 'take this thread, but do not let him know about it, for if he did it would lose its healing power. At night, when he is asleep, you must get up very quietly, and fasten the thread round his left foot as firmly as possible; and you will see in the morning he will not have changed back into a pig, but will still be a man. I do not want any reward. I shall be sufficiently repaid by knowing that you are happy. It almost breaks my heart to think of all you have suffered, and I only wish I had known it sooner, as I should have come to your rescue at once.' When the old witch had gone away the princess hid the thread very carefully, and at night she got up quietly, and with a beating heart she bound the thread round her husband's foot. Just as she was pulling the knot tight there was a crack, and the thread broke, for it was rotten. Her husband awoke with a start, and said to her, 'Unhappy woman, what have you done? Three days more and this unholy spell would have fallen from me, and now, who knows how long I may have to go about in this disgusting shape? I must leave you at once, and we shall not meet again until you have worn out three pairs of iron shoes and blunted a steel staff in your search for me.' So saying he disappeared. Now, when the princess was left alone she began to weep and moan in a way that was pitiful to hear; but when she saw that her tears and groans did her no good, she got up, determined to go wherever fate should lead her. On reaching a town, the first thing she did was to order three pairs of iron sandals and a steel staff, and having made these preparations for her journey, she set out in search of her husband. On and on she wandered over nine seas and across nine continents; through forests with trees whose stems were as thick as beer barrels; stumbling and knocking herself against the fallen branches, then picking herself up and going on; the boughs of the trees hit her face, and the shrubs tore her hands, but on she went, and never looked back. At last, wearied with her long journey and worn out and overcome with sorrow, but still with hope at her heart, she reached a house. Now who do you think lived there? The moon. The princess knocked at the door, and begged to be let in that she might rest a little. The mother of the moon, when she saw her sad plight, felt a great pity for her, and took her in and nursed and tended her. And while she was here the princess had a little baby. One day the mother of the moon asked her, 'How was it possible for you, a mortal, to get hither to the house of the moon?' Then the poor princess told her all that happened to her, and added 'I shall always be thankful to Heaven for leading me hither, and grateful to you that you took pity on me and on my baby, and did not leave us to die. Now I beg one last favor of you; can your daughter, the moon, tell me where my husband is?' 'She cannot tell you that, my child,' replied the goddess, 'but, if you will travel towards the East until you reach the dwelling of the sun, he may be able to tell you something.' Then she gave the princess a roast chicken to eat, and warned her to be very careful not to lose any of the bones, because they might be of great use to her. When the princess had thanked her once more for her hospitality and for her good advice, and had thrown away one pair of shoes that were worn out, and had put on a second pair, she tied up the chicken bones in a bundle, and taking her baby in her arms and her staff in her hand, she set out once more on her wanderings. On and on and on she went across bare sandy deserts, where the roads were so heavy that for every two steps that she took forwards she fell back one; but she struggled on till she had passed these dreary plains; next she crossed high rocky mountains, jumping from crag to crag and from peak to peak. Sometimes she would rest for a little on a mountain, and then start afresh always farther and farther on. She had to cross swamps and to scale mountain peaks covered with flints, so that her feet and knees and elbows were all torn and bleeding, and sometimes she came to a precipice across which she could not jump, and she had to crawl round on hands and knees, helping herself along with her staff. At length, wearied to death, she reached the palace in which the sun lived. She knocked and begged for admission. The mother of the sun opened the door, and was astonished at beholding a mortal from the distant earthly shores, and wept with pity when she heard of all she had suffered. Then, having promised to ask her son about the princess's husband, she hid her in the cellar, so that the sun might notice nothing on his return home, for he was always in a bad temper when he came in at night. The next day the princess feared that things would not go well with her, for the sun had noticed that some one from the other world had been in the palace. But his mother had soothed him with soft words, assuring him that this was not so. So the princess took heart when she saw how kindly she was treated, and asked, 'But how in the world is it possible for the sun to be angry? He is so beautiful and so good to mortals.' 'This is how it happens,' replied the sun's mother. 'In the morning when he stands at the gates of paradise he is happy, and smiles on the whole world, but during the day he gets cross, because he sees all the evil deeds of men, and that is why his heat becomes so scorching; but in the evening he is both sad and angry, for he stands at the gates of death; that is his usual course. From there he comes back here.' She then told the princess that she had asked about her husband, but that her son had replied that he knew nothing about him, and that her only hope was to go and inquire of the wind. Before the princess left the mother of the sun gave her a roast chicken to eat, and advised her to take great care of the bones, which she did, wrapping them up in a bundle. She then threw away her second pair of shoes, which were quite worn out, and with her child on her arm and her staff in her hand, she set forth on her way to the wind. In these wanderings she met with even greater difficulties than before, for she came upon one mountain of flints after another, out of which tongues of fire would flame up; she passed through woods which had never been trodden by human foot, and had to cross fields of ice and avalanches of snow. The poor woman nearly died of these hardships, but she kept a brave heart, and at length she reached an enormous cave in the side of a mountain. This was where the wind lived. There was a little door in the railing in front of the cave, and here the princess knocked and begged for admission. The mother of the wind had pity on her and took her in, that she might rest a little. Here too she was hidden away, so that the wind might not notice her. The next morning the mother of the wind told her that her husband was living in a thick wood, so thick that no axe had been able to cut a way through it; here he had built himself a sort of house by placing trunks of trees together and fastening them with withes and here he lived alone, shunning human kind. After the mother of the wind had given the princess a chicken to eat, and had warned her to take care of the bones, she advised her to go by the Milky Way, which at night lies across the sky, and to wander on till she reached her goal. Having thanked the old woman with tears in her eyes for her hospitality, and for the good news she had given her, the princess set out on her journey and rested neither night nor day, so great was her longing to see her husband again. On and on she walked until her last pair of shoes fell in pieces. So she threw them away and went on with bare feet, not heeding the bogs nor the thorns that wounded her, nor the stones that bruised her. At last she reached a beautiful green meadow on the edge of a wood. Her heart was cheered by the sight of the flowers and the soft cool grass, and she sat down and rested for a little. But hearing the birds chirping to their mates among the trees made her think with longing of her husband, and she wept bitterly, and taking her child in her arms, and her bundle of chicken bones on her shoulder, she entered the wood. For three days and three nights she struggled through it, but could find nothing. She was quite worn out with weariness and hunger, and even her staff was no further help to her, for in her many wanderings it had become quite blunted. She almost gave up in despair, but made one last great effort, and suddenly in a thicket she came upon the sort of house that the mother of the wind had described. It had no windows, and the door was up in the roof. Round the house she went, in search of steps, but could find none. What was she to do? How was she to get in? She thought and thought, and tried in vain to climb up to the door. Then suddenly she bethought her of the chicken bones that she had dragged all that weary way, and she said to herself, 'They would not all have told me to take such good care of these bones if they had not had some good reason for doing so. Perhaps now, in my hour of need, they may be of use to me.' So she took the bones out of her bundle, and having thought for a moment, she placed the two ends together. To her surprise they stuck tight; then she added the other bones, till she had two long poles the height of the house; these she placed against the wall, at a distance of a yard from one another. Across them she placed the other bones, piece by piece, like the steps of a ladder. As soon as one step was finished she stood upon it and made the next one, and then the next, till she was close to the door. But just as she got near the top she noticed that there were no bones left for the last rung of the ladder. What was she to do? Without that last step the whole ladder was useless. She must have lost one of the bones. Then suddenly an idea came to her. Taking a knife she chopped off her little finger, and placing it on the last step, it stuck as the bones had done. The ladder was complete, and with her child on her arm she entered the door of the house. Here she found everything in perfect order. Having taken some food, she laid the child down to sleep in a trough that was on the floor, and sat down herself to rest. When her husband, the pig, came back to his house, he was startled by what he saw. At first he could not believe his eyes, and stared at the ladder of bones, and at the little finger on the top of it. He felt that some fresh magic must be at work, and in his terror he almost turned away from the house; but then a better idea came to him, and he changed himself into a dove, so that no witchcraft could have power over him, and flew into the room without touching the ladder. Here he found a woman rocking a child. At the sight of her, looking so changed by all that she had suffered for his sake, his heart was moved by such love and longing and by so great a pity that he suddenly became a man. The princess stood up when she saw him. and her heart beat with fear, for she did not know him. But when he had told her who he was, in her great joy she forgot all her sufferings, and they seemed as nothing to her. He was a very handsome man, as straight as a fir tree. They sat down together and she told him all her adventures, and he wept with pity at the tale. And then he told her his own history. 'I am a king's son. Once when my father was fighting against some dragons, who were the scourge of our country, I slew the youngest dragon. His mother, who was a witch, cast a spell over me and changed me into a pig. It was she who in the disguise of an old woman gave you the thread to bind round my foot. So that instead of the three days that had to run before the spell was broken, I was forced to remain a pig for three more years. Now that we have suffered for each other, and have found each other again, let us forget the past.' And in their joy they kissed one another. Next morning they set out early to return to his father's kingdom. Great was the rejoicing of all the people when they saw him and his wife; his father and his mother embraced them both, and there was feasting in the palace for three days and three nights. Then they set out to see her father. The old king nearly went out of his mind with joy at beholding his daughter again. When she had told him all her adventures, he said to her, 'Did not I tell you that I was quite sure that that creature who wooed and won you as his wife had not been born a pig? You see, my child, how wise you were in doing what I told you.' And as the king was old and had no heirs, he put them on the throne in his place. And they ruled as only kings rule who have suffered many things. And if they are not dead they are still living and ruling happily. The second half of this tale belongs to type 425 (The Search for the Lost Husband).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,The Hedgehog That Married the King's Daughter,Lithuania,NA,"Source (books.google.com): A. Leskien and A. Brugman, 'Vom Igel, der die Königstochter zur Frau bekam,' Litauische Volkslieder und Märchen (Strassburg: Verlag von Karl J. Trübner, 1882), pp. 355-57. Source (books.google.com): A. Leskien and A. Brugman, 'Vom Igel, der die Königstochter zur Frau bekam,' Litauische Volkslieder und Märchen (Strassburg: Verlag von Karl J. Trübner, 1882), pp. 355-57.","Once upon a time there was a man who had no children. One day he went into the woods and found a hedgehog, which he took home with him. One day the hedgehog said to him, 'I want to drive our sow out into the woods and tend her.' The old man replied, 'What! You can do that? You hardly do anything here!' However, the hedgehog did drive the sow into the woods and tended her there for three years without returning home. The sow had piglets, and the piglets in turn had more piglets until finally there was a great herd of pigs. Once an officer came into the woods hunting, and he lost his way. Seeing the pigs, he wanted to know where the swineherd was. He saw the hedgehog lying under a fir tree and asked him, 'Where is the swineherd who is looking after these pigs?' The hedgehog answered, 'I am the swineherd for these pigs.' 'Where must I go to get out of these woods?' 'If you will give me your daughter, I will lead you out of the woods.' 'Show me the way, and you can have my daughter,' said the officer, and the hedgehog led him out of the woods and then returned to his pigs. Another time a prince came into the woods while hunting, and he too lost his way. He saw the pigs and wanted to find the swineherd. Seeing the hedgehog, who again was lying under the fir tree, he asked, 'Where is the swineherd who is tending these pigs?' 'I am the swineherd for these pigs,' answered the hedgehog. The prince asked, 'Can you show me the way out of these woods?' He answered, 'If you will give me your daughter then I will lead you out of the woods.' 'Good,' said the prince. 'I will give you my daughter if only you will lead me out of the woods. The hedgehog led him out of the woods, then let him continue on his way by himself. The next day the king himself came into the woods hunting, and he too -- like the officer and the prince -- lost his way. He saw the pigs and wanted to find the swineherd. Seeing the hedgehog lying beneath the fir tree, he asked, 'Could you show me the way out of these woods?' 'I can do that,' answered the hedgehog, 'If you will give me your daughter.' The king said, 'Good, you can have her. Just lead me out of these woods.' So the hedgehog led him out of the woods and then returned to his pigs. Soon afterward he drove the pigs home, and the old man saw how large the herd had become. The stall, into which they wanted to drive them, was not nearly large enough, so they had to drive them into another stall. The old man was pleased that the hedgehog had brought so many pigs back to him. Now the hedgehog said to the old man, 'Feed the rooster there. I want to ride to my girl.' The old man did this, and the hedgehog rode on the rooster to the officer. He said to him, 'Well, now give me your daughter.' The officer asked him, 'What do you need for a dowry?' 'A team of horses, a coach, and the coach must be filled with gold.' The officer put the gold into the coach, the horses were harnessed, and they set the girl on top of the gold. And thus the hedgehog drove off with her. Underway he said his girl, 'You can return to your father if you want to, or you can come with me.' The girl said, 'I'd sooner go back home to my father,' and she went back home to him. But the hedgehog drove to his own house with his gold. The next day the hedgehog rode on his rooster to the prince. And the same thing happened with the second bride as with the first one. On the third day he rode to the third bride. Approaching the king, he said, 'Well, now give me your daughter for my wife.' The king gave him everything that he demanded. This time the hedgehog did not ask the king's daughter if she wanted to return to her father, but instead took her to his home where they were married. The old man then purchased a noble estate with many fields, and with many horses and oxen. He hired maids and farmhands, and had all the fields cultivated. From now on he lived like a lord. The hedgehog and the king's daughter stayed with the old man, and they lived together happily and royally for many years, and then they died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,"The Hedgehog, the Merchant, the King, and the Poor Man",Hungary,The long episode following the hedgehog's transformation and marriage is a variant of a type 707 folktale.,"Jeremiah Curtin, Myths and Folk-Tales of the Russians, Western Slavs, and Magyars (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1903), pp. 517-545.","One day the merchant went out to hunt, and he traveled and journeyed till, oh! my lord's son, he found himself in such a thick forest that he saw neither the sky nor the earth; he just groped around like a blind man. Here, 'pon my soul! whether the merchant tried to free himself by turning to the left or the right, he only went into a thicker place. When he was there five days, in hunger and thirst, stumbling about in the great wild wood without liberation, the merchant called out, 'Oh, my God, if anyone would take me out of this great wild thicket to the right road, I would give him the best of my three daughters, and as a wedding gift three sacks of coin.' 'I'll lead thee out right away,' said someone before him. The merchant looked to the right, to the left, but not a soul did he see. 'Don't look around,' said the certain one again. 'Look under thy feet.' The merchant then looked in front and saw that near his feet was a little hedgehog, and to him he directed then his word and speech. 'Well, if thou wilt lead me out, I will give thee my best daughter and three sacks of coin; the first will be gold, the second silver, and the third copper.' The hedgehog went on ahead, the merchant walked after. Soon they came out of the great wild wood. Then the hedgehog went back, and the merchant turned his wagon-tongue homeward. Now the king went to hunt, went in the same way as the merchant; and he too was lost in the great wild wood. The king went to the right and the left, tried in every way to free himself; all he gained was that he came to a thicker and a darker place. He too stumbled around five days in the thick wood, without food or drink. On the sixth morning the king cried out, 'Oh, my God! If any one would free me from this dense wood, even if a worm, I would give him the most beautiful of my daughters, and as a wedding gift three coaches full of coin.' 'I'll lead thee out right away,' said someone near him. The king looked to the right, to the left, but saw not a soul. 'Why stare around? Look at thy feet; here I am.' The king then looked at his feet and saw a little hedgehog stretched out, and said to him, ' Well, hedgehog, if thou wilt lead me forth, I'll give thee the fairest of my daughters and three coaches full of coin: the first gold, the second silver, the third copper.' The hedgehog went ahead, the king followed, and in this way they soon came out of the great wild wood. The hedgehog went back to his own place; the king reached home in safety. Very well, a poor man went out for dry branches. He went like the merchant and king, and he got astray, so that he wandered dry and hungry for five days in the great wild wood; and whether he turned to the right or the left he gained only this, that he went deeper into the denseness. 'My God,' cried the poor man at last, 'send me a liberator! If he would lead me out of this place, as I have neither gold nor silver, I would take him as a son, and care for him as my own child.' 'Well, my lord father, I'll lead thee out; only follow.' 'Where art thou, dear son?' 'Here, under thy feet; only look this way, my lord father.' The poor man looked near his feet, and saw a little hedgehog stretched out. 'Well, my dear son, lead me out and I'll keep my promise.' The hedgehog went ahead, the poor man followed, and soon they came out of the great wild wood. The hedgehog then went back to his own place, and the poor man strolled home. Well, things remained thus till once after bedtime there was a knocking at the poor man's door. 'My lord father, rise up, open the door.' The poor man, who was lying on the stove, heard only that some one was knocking at the door. 'My lord father, rise up, open the door.' The poor man heard, and heard that some one was knocking and as he thought calling out, 'My lord father, rise up, open the door.' But in his world life he had never had a son. The third time he heard clearly, 'My lord father, rise up, open the door.' The poor man did not take this as a joke. He rose up and opened the door. My lord's son, who came in to him? No one else than the little hedgehog. 'God give a good evening to my lord father and to my mother as well,' said the hedgehog. 'God receive thee, my dear son. Hast thou come then?' 'I have indeed, as thou seest, my lord father; but I am very tired, therefore wake up my mother and let her make a bed for me in my chamber.' What was the poor man to do? He woke up his wife; she made a towering bed, and the hedgehog lay in it. In the morning the poor man and his wife sat down to breakfast. They did not wish to forget their adopted son, but gave him food on a wooden plate under a bench by the fire. The hedgehog did not touch it. 'Well, my son,' asked the poor man, 'why not eat?' 'I do not eat, my lord father, because it is not proper to treat an adopted son like some orphan or another; therefore it beseems me not to eat all alone from a wooden plate under a bench at the fire. Seat me nicely at the table by thy side, put a tin plate before me, and place my food on it.' What was the poor man to do? He seated the hedgehog at his side, put a tin plate before him, and measured out food on it; then the hedgehog ate with his father and mother. When they had finished breakfast the hedgehog spoke thuswise, 'Well, my lord father, hast thou a couple of thalers?' 'I have.' 'I suppose thou art keeping them to buy salt and wood with?' 'Yes, my son.' 'I speak not of that, I am speaking of this: lend me the money; I will return it a thousand-fold. Set not thy mind much on salt and wood now; but go, my lord father, to the market. In such and such a place an old woman has a black cock for sale; buy him of her. If she asks a small price, give her double; for that will be my steed. When thou hast bought the cock for two prices, in such and such a place is a saddler; go to him. In a corner of his shop is a castaway, thrown-away, ragged, torn saddle; buy that for me, but give him two prices also. If he asks little, give him double.' The poor man put on his coat, put the two thalers in his pocket, went to the market, bought the black cock and the cast-away, thrown-away saddle for two prices; each one for two small bits of money. The hedgehog then saddled the black cock with the cast-away, thrown-away saddle, sat upon him, and went to the court of the rich merchant whom he had led out of the great wild wood. He knocked at the door and called, 'Hei, father-in-law, open the gate, let me in!' The rich merchant opened the gate in great wonder. Who was coming? No one other than our hedgehog, riding on a black cock. 'Hear me, rich merchant,' began the hedgehog; 'knowest thou thy promise? When I led thee out of the great wild wood, dost remember thy promise to give me the best of thy three daughters and three sacks of coin? Now I have come for the maid and the money.' What could the rich merchant do? He called his three daughters into the white chamber, and turned to the hedgehog, saying, 'Well, choose among the three the one who pleases thy eye, thy mouth, and thy heart.' The hedgehog chose the second daughter, for she was the most beautiful of the three. The merchant then measured out three sacks of coin. In the first, as he had said, there was gold, in the second silver, in the third copper; then he put his daughter and the three sacks of coin in a coach, to which four horses were attached, and he sent on her way his most beautiful daughter, with the hedgehog. They traveled and journeyed till the hedgehog, who was riding at the side of the coach on his black cock, came up, looked in through the window, and saw that the bride was in tears. 'Why dost thou cry, why dost thou weep, my heart's beautiful love?' asked the hedgehog of the maiden. 'Why should I not cry, why should I not weep, when God has punished me with such a nasty thing as thee? For I know not whether thou art a man or a beast.' 'If this is thy only trouble, my heart's beautiful love, we can easily cure it; I'll keep the three sacks of coin for myself, and thee I'll send back to thy father, for I see that of me thou art not worthy.' Thus was it settled; the hedgehog kept the three sacks of coin, but the merchant's daughter he sent back to her father. The hedgehog then took the coin to the poor man, who became so rich that I think another could not be found like him in seven villages. Now the hedgehog plucked up courage, saddled his black cock, sat on him, and rode away to the king, stood before him, and spoke in this fashion, 'Dost thou remember, king, that when I brought thee out of the great wild wood, thou didst promise that if I would show the right road thou wouldst give me the most beautiful of thy three daughters and fill for me three coaches, the first with gold, the second with silver, and the third with copper coin? I am here so that thou mayest keep thy word.' The king called his three daughters to the white chamber and said, 'I made a promise, and this is it: to give one of my three daughters to this hedgehog as wife. I promised because the hedgehog led me out of a great wild wood, in which I wandered for five days without food or drink, and he saved me from certain death. Therefore say, my dear daughters, which of you will agree to marry the hedgehog.' The eldest daughter turned away, the second turned away also; but the youngest and fairest spoke thus, 'If thou, my father the king, hast made such a promise, I will marry him. Let the will of God be done if he has appointed such a husband for me.' 'Thou art my dearest and best daughter,' said the king; and he kissed her again and again. Then the king measured out three coaches of coin, seated the princess in a chariot of gold and glass and started her on her journey, amid bitter tear-shedding, with the hedgehog, who rode at the side of the chariot on his black cock. They traveled and journeyed across forty-nine kingdoms till the hedgehog rode up to the chariot, opened the window, looked in, and saw that the princess was not weeping, but was in the best cheerful humor. 'Oh, my heart's beautiful love,' said the princess, 'why art thou riding on that black cock? Better come here and sit at my side on the velvet cushion.' 'Thou art not afraid of me?' 'I am not afraid.' 'Thou art not disgusted with me? ' 'No; if God has given thee to me, then thou shouldst be mine.' 'Thou art my only and most beloved wife!' said the hedgehog; and with that he shook himself, and straightway turned into such a pearl-given, charming, twenty-four-years-old king's son that tongue could not tell: golden-haired, golden-mouthed, golden-toothed. And the black cock shook himself three times, and became such a golden-haired magic steed that his equal would have to be sought for; the castaway, thrown-away saddle became golden; everything on it was gold to the last buckle. The king's son then picked out the most beautiful place in the kingdom; standing in the middle of this he thought once, and suddenly that instant there stood before him a copper-roofed marble palace, turning on a cock's foot, and in it every kind of the most varied and beautiful golden furniture. Everything and everything was of gold, beginning with the mirror frame and ending with the cooking spoon. The king's son conducted the beautiful golden bird -- the fair princess -- into the pearl-given palace, where, like birds in a nest, they lived in quiet harmony. When the merchant's three daughters and the two elder princesses heard of the happiness of the youngest princess, -- how well she had married, -- in their sorrow one of them jumped into a well, another drowned herself in a hemp-pond, and a third was drawn dead out of the river Tisza (Theiss). In this way four of the maidens came to an evil end; but the second daughter of the merchant gritted her teeth venomously at the princess, and made a firm and merciless resolve that she would embitter her life's happiness. She went therefore to the palace, and found service in the guise of an old woman. She, the devil-given, came at a critical time; for the Burkus [Prussian] king had declared war against the king's son, and the princess, while her husband was in the field, was left to the care of the merchant's daughter, disguised as an old woman. Milk might as well be confided to a cat as the princess to that cockroach of the underground kingdom. While the king's son was gone, the Lord gave the princess two beautiful children. The old woman packed them into a basket, put them under a tree in the woods, then ran back to the princess, who, recovering from a faint into which she had fallen, asked the old woman to give her the children so that she might embrace and kiss them. 'High queen,' answered the old woman, 'what is the use in delay or denial? They were two untimely, hairy monsters, and to save thee from terror at sight of them, I threw both into the river.' The two children slept quietly under the tree till a white deer burst with great noise through the thicket, went straight as if sent, and taking the basket hung it on his antlers; then the white deer disappeared in the forest, went on till he came to the bank of a stream, where he called three times. The Forest Maiden appeared as if by magic, took the basket with great delight, and ran panting into her own palace. The two children were seven years with the Forest Maiden, who reared them as carefully as if they had been her own. Here, 'pon my soul, what came of the affair, or what did not, the Forest Maiden once sent the little girl with a green jug for water, and enjoined on her rigorously to be careful not to break the jug. The little girl did not let this be said twice; she was obedient and attentive. She took the jug, and was at the well in a moment. When she came, she saw a little golden bird flying around the well. Being a child, she wanted to catch the golden bird, therefore ran around with the jug in her hand till at last she saw that only the handle was left. The little girl, terrified, burst into tears, sat at the edge of the well, and cried there. The Forest Maiden waited and waited; but she could not wait longer, therefore she sent the little brother with a second jug, and told him sternly to be careful not to break the jug. The little brother went in the same way, for he also, like children of that age, barely saw the golden bird when he wanted to strike it with the jug, which he whirled around till only the handle remained in his hand; then he burst into tears, sat by his sister, and there the two were crying at the edge of the well. Here, 'pon my soul, the golden bird pitied the children, and asked, 'Why do ye cry? Why do ye weep, pretty children?' 'Oh, pretty bird,' answered the boy, who had more sense than his sister, 'why should we not cry? Why should we not weep? We shall be flogged for breaking the green jugs; our dear mother will whip us.' 'Oh, my children, she is not your own mother! She is only your foster mother. Your father and mother live far from here, beyond those green mountains; so if ye will follow, I'll lead you home.' The two children wanted nothing else. They went back no more to their foster mother, for they would be flogged; but they followed the golden bird, which went always before them. And they traveled and journeyed till once in a forest they came upon a great heap of gold; near the gold was a number of dice, as if some one had been playing there. The little boy and girl each took a handful of gold, and went farther. They traveled and journeyed till they came to an inn; since they were wearied, and it was evening, they went in to ask lodging. In the inn three lords were playing dice; the two children at first merely noticed that they were playing. At last the boy took from his pocket the handful of gold, and began to play in such fashion that he won all the money of the three lords; and then one of them spoke thuswise, 'Well, my dear son, I see that thou hast good luck. I have in a certain place a charming flower garden; in the middle of the garden is a marble palace, and the palace has this peculiarity: if it is struck on the side three times with this golden rod, it will turn into a golden apple; and thou mayest put down the marble palace and the flower garden in any part of the world if thou wilt strike the golden apple with the small end of the golden rod. I will bet now this flower garden and this marble palace. If thou canst win, they'll be thine.' The little boy agreed; and he won fortunately the flower garden and the marble palace. The other then gave him the golden rod, and showed him where the garden and the palace were. Next morning the children sought out the garden and the palace, which the boy struck three times on the side, and it turned to a golden apple; he put the apple in his pocket, and strolled on homeward. The little golden bird flew always ahead of them. They traveled and journeyed till one time the golden bird stopped and said, 'Well, dear children, now we are at home; put down the golden apple on this spot and strike it three times with the rod, and ye will see what a beautiful marble palace and flowery garden there will be, speaking to the seven kingdoms. The report of the palace and garden will circulate immediately, and the king himself will come to look at them. Him ye must honor as your father, for thou my little boy art the king's son, and thou my little girl the king's daughter. Dear children, here in a golden frame is a picture which gives your arms and name. Hang in the palace this picture, in the best place; but lest it be seen, cover it with velvet, and show it to no man save your own father. When he asks what that picture is, draw the velvet from it, and the rest will follow.' So it happened; the two children hung up the picture in the best room of the marble palace, and covered it with velvet. Now, the report ran to distant parts of the kingdom that there was a charming and wonderful marble palace in such and such a place, and people hastened from the seventh province distant to look at it; so that the report came to the ears of the king himself. The king decided straightway to look at the flowery garden and marble palace; but he had hardly conceived the idea when the old woman gave him a drug. The king fell ill, and could not see the flowery garden and marble palace; and then the old woman, without invitation, stood before the king and said, 'High king, if thou art so curious to see this flowery garden and marble palace, then I will go and see if they are as beautiful as report says, and tell the story to thy Highness.' The king in one way or another agreed, and the old woman went, not to see the garden, but to bring the two children to evil destruction; the wicked creature tried but succeeded not, for her weapons broke. Not to confound one word with another, I will tell the whole tale in order and accuracy. The old witch had barely reached the famous flower garden when the two children hurried before her and showed everything from root to top, and the old piece of leather began to talk thus, 'It is true that the garden is beautiful, but it would be seven times more beautiful if ye would bring the world-sounding tree.' 'What must be done to get that? ' asked the little boy. 'Not other than this,' answered the old skeleton, 'In such and such a place, in an enchanted palace, is the world-sounding tree; but ye must go for it and bring it.' With that the old witch took farewell of the two children, and strolled home; but the boy had no peace from that hour. He wanted to go and bring the world-sounding tree; therefore taking farewell of his sister with bitter tear-shedding he set out for the tree. He was going and traveling across forty-nine kingdoms till he came to a dark castle; this was the first enchanted castle. A big, lame, hairy devil stood there on guard with a fearful whip, so that no man might enter. The hairy devil shouted very angrily at our boy, 'Stop! Who is there?' 'I,' answered the little boy. 'Who is I? Art thou Yanoshka? ' asked the devil. 'I am.' 'What journey art thou on?' 'I am looking for the world-beautifully sounding tree. Hast thou not heard of it, my lord elder brother?' 'I have not heard of it; but in such and such a place my brother stands guard, and if he has not heard of it, then no one in the world has.' Yanoshka went forward on the right road in search of the world-sounding tree. He traveled and journeyed till he came to another enchanted dark castle; there a big, lame, hairy devil was standing on guard who shouted to our Yanoshka in great anger. Our Yanoshka was much braver now, for he knew he had nothing to fear. 'Who is it?' called out the devil. 'I.' 'Art thou Yanoshka?' 'I am, at the service of my lord elder brother.' 'Why art thou journeying here in this strange land, where even a bird does not go?' 'I am looking for the world-beautifully sounding tree. Hast thou not heard of it, my lord elder brother?' 'What is the use in delay or denial? I have not heard; but in such and such a place my eldest brother is on guard, and if he knows nothing of it, then no one in the world knows.' With this Yanoshka moved on towards the third enchanted castle; when he came, there was a big, lame, hairy devil on guard, who called out in great anger to Yanoshka, 'Who is that?' 'I.' 'Thou art Yanoshka?' 'I am.' 'Why art thou journeying here in this strange land, where even a bird does not go?' 'I am looking for the world-beautifully sounding tree. Hast thou not heard of it, my lord elder brother?' 'Ho, ho, Yanoshka! of course I have; it is here in the garden of this enchanted palace. Thou mayest take it, but only if thou obey my words. If thou dost not value them or dost not observe them, thou wilt never see God's bright sky or the shining day again. I only want to say this: Here is a golden rod; strike the wall of the enchanted castle with it three times. Straightway a door will open before thee. In the very middle of the garden thou wilt find the world-beautifully sounding tree. Go around it three times and then hurry like a shot arrow, with the speed of a dog, or the stone wall will close, and thou wilt remain inside; and if thou art once shut in, God have mercy and pity on thee, for that instant thou wilt be turned to stone. This is my word and speech; if thou cling to it, thou wilt be lucky; if not, thou wilt be wretched forever.' The boy took the golden rod and struck the side of the enchanted castle with it. That instant the door opened before him. The king's son did not inquire much whether he might enter or not; in a moment he ran in through the door and straight to the garden. Every kind of singing and dancing maidens came to meet him, -- some with citharas and harps; some played on cymbals and begged him to play and dance with them; some offered rich food and drink of every kind agreeable to the taste. But the king's son had no mind to eat or drink; he pushed aside the maidens and ran to the very center of the garden, where the world-beautifully sounding tree was; then he went around it three times, turning toward the point whence he had come. That done he rushed from the garden, and a thousand times lucky was he. It was not the same for him to be a few minutes later, for the door closed and bit off the heel of his boot; but he did not care much about the heel of his boot. He ran home on the same road over which he had come; and when he arrived, the world-beautifully sounding tree was in the middle of the flowery garden. Hitherto the flowery garden had been in good fame, but now the fame was seven times greater, so that people came from seven worlds to look at the tree; and the report of it reached the king himself, who determined in his mind if he had not seen it yet he would now at least go to see it. As soon as the old witch divined his thought she put a powder in his coffee so that he became sick, and was not able to leave the room; then she stood before him without invitation, and said, 'High king, as thy Highness is sick, I will go to see if the world- sounding tree is as beautiful as reported, and will soon bring back word.' The king in one way or another agreed to the old witch's proposal, and let her go to see the world-beautifully sounding tree. She had barely put foot in the flowery garden when the two children ran out to her to hear what the old woman would say this time. 'Beautiful children,' said she, 'beautiful is the garden of itself, beautiful is the sounding tree, but still seven times more beautiful would it be if the world-sweetly speaking bird were to sing upon it.' 'What must I do?' asked the little boy. 'Nothing else,' answered the old witch, 'than this: In such and such a place is an enchanted castle, and thence it would be necessary to bring the world-sweetly speaking bird.' Then she went back; and from that hour the king's son could not remain at home, but planned to go for the world-sweetly speaking bird. Therefore, parting with his sister amidst bitter tear-shedding, he started through the kingdom and the world to bring home the sweetly speaking bird; but he enjoined on his sister that if the third day he were not at home, she should set out to seek him over a certain road, -- and with that the king's son went his way. He journeyed and traveled across forty-nine kingdoms to the first enchanted castle, where there stood on guard a big hairy devil, who had a terribly large whip in his hand, to kill, without pity or mercy, every man going up or down. Now, the hairy devil attacked Yanoshka sharply and roughly, thus, 'Who art thou?' 'I, my lord elder brother.' 'Who art thou?' asked the devil again. 'I.' 'Art thou Yanoshka?' 'I am.' 'Why art thou here in this strange land, where even a bird does not go?' 'I am going for the world-sweetly speaking bird. Hast thou heard of it, my lord elder brother?' 'What is the use in delay or denial? I have not indeed heard. But over there lives my elder brother; if he knows nothing of it, then no one in the world knows.' Now the king's son came to the second enchanted castle; the second devil sent him to his eldest brother, the big lame devil. When Yanoshka came to the third castle, the devil asked, 'Why art thou here in this strange land, where even a bird does not go?' 'I am looking for the world-sweetly speaking bird. Hast thou not heard of it, lord elder brother, in thy world-beautiful life?' 'Of course I have; it is here in this enchanted castle. Thou mayest take it away if thou wilt listen to my word; if not, better thou hadst never been born. For if thou wilt not observe my words, thou wilt never see God's bright sun again. I only wish to say: Here is a golden rod; take it, and with it strike the wall of the enchanted castle three times. Straightway the door will open before thee; pass in, run to the end of the glass corridor and across eight chambers. In the ninth chamber is the world-sweetly speaking bird in a rusty cage. Thou wilt find there every kind of beautiful and more beautiful golden birds, but look not at them, listen not to them, take no one of them, but take the sweetly speaking bird sitting sadly in the rusty cage. Snatch the cage in an instant, and rush from the enchanted castle as if thou hadst been shot from a cannon.' The king's son took the golden rod and struck the wall of the enchanted castle with it three times, and in a twinkle the door opened before him. The king's son then asked few questions. Whether it was permitted or not he ran into the room in an instant. While he was running to the end of the glass corridor he was called by name, from the right to the left, to stop. It is true that he was frightened, but he paid no heed. He ran straight to the first chamber. Every kind of flowers, more and more beautiful, were in golden pots; but the king's son did not touch them. He ran to the second chamber. In that were all kinds of swords and guns, but he did not choose from them. He entered the third, fourth, fifth, and in this way till he came to the ninth chamber. The ninth chamber, as the devil had told him, was full of all kinds of golden and silver cages, and in them golden-feathered birds, more and more beautiful, were singing; but the world-sweetly speaking bird was drooping there sadly in a rusty cage, and was not singing. As the world-sweetly speaking bird was not golden-feathered like the others, it did not please the king's son, and he did not take it, but chose from among the many golden-feathered birds the prettiest, and wished to take that; but as he reached towards it, suddenly, in the twinkle of an eye, he was turned to stone, and the door of the stone wall closed before him. Now, the little princess every God-given day spread the table for her good brother, but he did not come. Every God-given evening she went out before the house and waited till nearly midnight; then she spread the bed for him, but he did not lie in it. So the first day passed, and the second, and the third, -- day after day, but still the dear brother came not; therefore the princess, crying and weeping, went out to look for her brother. She journeyed and traveled upon his trail till she came to the first enchanted castle, and the second, and at last the third. The devil there stood on guard, with a great whip like a chain, so as to strike on the head, without pity or mercy, everyone going up or down; and he shouted angrily at the little girl, ' Who art thou? ' 'I.' 'Thou art Marishka?' For meanwhile, let it be said, this was the name of the king's son's sister. 'I am.' 'Why art thou traveling in this strange land, where not even a bird goes?' 'I am looking for my brother. Hast thou not heard of him, lord elder brother?' 'Of course I have heard, -- of course! He is in this enchanted castle, turned into stone; he had to be, for he would not obey me. Thou wilt go that way, too, if thou wilt not hold to my word.' Now the little girl took the golden rod from the devil, who told her what to do with it, and struck the wall of the enchanted castle with it three times. The door opened before her in a twinkle, the princess ran in; but she looked neither to the right nor the left. She ran straight to the ninth chamber; there she took the rusty cage, struck her brother three times on the side with the rod, then ran as if shot from a cannon. And a thousand-fold was her luck that she did not delay an eye-twinkle longer, for the stone-wall door, as it was, cut the edge of her skirt off when it closed. The princess had barely come out of the enchanted castle when she heard behind her frightful thundering, hammering and blowing, swearing and cursing, with threats. They shouted after her, 'Wait, thou! This-and-that-kind-of-wretch, it will soon be bitter for thee!' But she did not turn to them; she ran like a hunted deer till she reached home. Who was waiting for her there? No one else but her dear brother. The brother and sister then put up the sweetly speaking bird on the world-beautifully sounding tree, and the sweetly speaking bird spoke, sang more sweetly than any cithara, so that whoever heard it became ten years younger. If the flowery garden had been famous before, it now stood in seven times greater fame, so that from seven kingdoms the people came to look at it; and the king, hearing of the fair fame of the flowery garden, resolved in his mind that, though he had not gone yet, he would go to see it now. The old witch barely divined this intention of the king when she gave him powders in black coffee, from which the king became so sick that this time, too, his visit to the beautiful garden came to nothing. And then the old woman, without invitation, stood before him, and said, 'High king, thou hast such a great desire to see the flowery garden, I will go at once, and bring back word if its beauty is as great as its fame.' The king agreed, and the old woman went to see the flowery garden. She had barely put foot in it when the two children ran out to meet her, received her very cordially, and did not know where to seat her. 'Beautiful children,' began the old sinner, 'the marble palace is beautiful, the flowery garden is beautiful, the world-sweetly speaking bird is beautiful; but the flowery garden would be still more beautiful if the silver lake were flowing in it, and in the lake golden fish were playing.' 'What must I do to get the lake?' asked the king's son. 'Only this,' answered the old skeleton. 'In a certain place, in an enchanted castle, is the world-silver lake, and in it the world-golden fish; it is only necessary to go for the silver lake, for the golden fish will come in it. All that is needed is to bring the lake.' Then the old woman took leave of the pair pleasantly, and went home. But the king's son from that day had no rest, so he took leave of his dear sister, and went out into the world for the silver lake. He traveled and journeyed across forty-nine kingdoms, and the Operentsia Sea, till he came to the first enchanted castle. A devil was guarding there, who sent him to his elder brother, and he to his eldest. The king's son arrived at the third enchanted palace. A devil stood guard there, with an enormous knotty club, to hit every man going up or down, without mercy or pity. 'God give thee good evening, my lord elder brother.' 'God receive thee, Yanoshka; whither art thou faring in this strange land, where not even a bird goes?' 'I am looking for the world-silver lake. Hast thou not heard of it, lord elder brother?' 'Of course I have heard, -- of course; it is here in this enchanted castle. But, my younger brother, thou wilt have to tie up thy drawers well if 't is thy wish to take that away; for if thou dost not obey my word, I tell thee, on my true soul, that thou wilt reach Pilate by supper-time. I wish to say this: Here is a golden rod; strike the side of the enchanted palace with it, and suddenly the door will open before thee, run in straight to the garden. Thou wilt hear thy name called, but listen not. Every kind of beautiful maiden will come before thee, offering meat and drink; but eat not, neither drink. Thou wilt find on the way every kind of rich thing, -- gold, silver, diamonds, -- but touch nothing. Then every kind of disgusting snake and toad will come out, but be not afraid; run straight to the silver lake, which flows in the garden, run around it three times towards home, and then run out as thou didst go in' Well, the king's son took the golden rod, struck the side of the enchanted castle three times, and the door opened before him; scarcely had he put foot inside when maidens called him by name. 'This way, this way, Yanoshka! Eat, drink, with relish, Yanoshka! This way, Yanoshka, my embracing two arms are open to thee, run no farther!' The king's son, as if deaf, did not listen, but ran farther. Then maidens more and more beautiful came before him. Some sprang at him, dangled their golden hair in his face; the king's son did not stop, but struck at them rudely, rushing on. He had barely left the maidens when he fell on to piles of treasure thrown in his way: beaten gold was piled high, and milk-white silver coin, -- here every kind of diamond ring, there swords set in diamonds; but the king's son touched nothing, and ran on. Then every kind of crawling, creeping thing swarmed around him, -- here hissing snakes, there warty toads. Yanoshka looked not under his feet, but ran till he came to the silver lake, around which he rushed three times, and went out as he had come. A thousand-fold was his fortune, for had he been an instant later the stone wall would have closed before him; as it was it took the heel off his boot, but he cared nothing for that. He left his boots there and ran home barefoot; when he reached home the silver lake was already flowing through the flowery garden, and in it all kinds of precious golden fish were jumping. Hitherto the marble palace and the flowery garden with the sounding tree and the sweetly speaking bird had been in fair fame, but now, when the silver lake was flowing through the garden, and golden fish playing in it, now I say their fame spoke to the seven worlds, and people came to look at them. When this reached the ears of the king he resolved that he would neither eat nor drink till he saw the marble palace with all its wonders. Though the old witch offered him black coffee repeatedly, the king did not take it; but sitting in the golden carriage with his wife, he drove to see the flowery garden. Scarcely had the king and queen entered the flowery garden when the brother and sister ran out before them, panting, and kissed their hands. 'Oh, father, this little girl is like thee!' cried the queen; 'She is thy carved second!' 'And the little boy looks like thee,' answered the king. Well, the king and the queen went around the garden in order, and they could not do justice to its beauty; when they saw the sounding tree and the sweetly speaking bird, they clapped their hands. The boy went up in a moment on the sounding tree, plucked from it a couple of golden apples, gave one to the king and the other to the queen, who could not praise sufficiently his kindness. Then the king and queen looked at the silver lake and the golden fish in it; they visited the marble palace, and went from chamber to chamber till they had gone through seven in order. The king and queen were unable to praise sufficiently the beauty of the rooms; but when they came to the most beautiful of all, the king found this to say, speaking speech, ' Well, my little servant, wilt thou not answer a question of mine?' 'And what is it?' asked the prince. 'I should like to know why that picture is covered with velvet, and what it depicts.' One word is not much, but the king's little son did not say that much; speechless he drew the velvet covering aside. The king and queen were amazed, and knew their own children, whom they had never seen before. One embraced one of them, and the other the other; they could not speak, but they wept and laughed, and then the world-sounding tree and the sweetly speaking bird were heard. Great was the rejoicing of every kind, but sad grew the old sinner when the king seized her, made her fast to a tree, and piled up beneath her a fire of sulfur.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,The Wild Pig,"Germany, J. W. Wolf",NA,"J. W. Wolf, 'Das wilde Schwein,' Deutsche Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1845), no. 3, pp. 16-21.","Once upon a time there was a king. His wife bore him only one son, and he had not much pleasure with him, for a wicked witch had transformed him into a wild pig. The king and queen were very sad about this, but because things that have happened cannot be changed, they finally came to terms with the situation. They allowed the wild pig to run about the courtyard and the palace garden, where he behaved himself very well and did no one any harm. Not far from the king's castle there was another castle where a rich lord lived who had three daughters, each one more beautiful than the others. One day the wild pig ran off further than usual and saw the oldest daughter as she was picking flowers in a field. She pleased him so much that he fell head over heels in love with her, and with all his might he wanted to marry her. The king tried to convince him, that this would not be possible, but to no avail. The wild pig would hear none of this, saying further that if she would not become his wife then he would die of grief. So the king sent someone to the lord of the castle and informed him how things stood. At first the lord was not very pleased with the proposal, but after considering that the prince would otherwise die, he gave his consent. However, the daughter did not approve and said -- to the contrary -- that she would rather do God-knows-what than to have a disgusting pig for a husband. But that did not help her, and over her objections, the king forced her to accept, and the wedding was celebrated with the greatest pomp in the world. When it got late, and everyone was going to bed, the bride too lay herself down to sleep. The wild pig wanted to lie next to her, but when he jumped into bed, he unfortunately struck her on the neck with his heavy feet, and -- she was dead. No pen can describe how sad were the wild pig and the king and the parents of the bride. One year later the wild pig ran astray once again and found the rich lord's second daughter in the field. She pleased him so much that he wanted to marry her, whatever it might cost. The king made many excuses, but it was like throwing oil into the fire, and in the end there was nothing left to do but to talk with the lord about it. He did not want to hear anything about it, and he opposed the marriage with all his power, saying that he had not raised his daughters for pigs and the like. The king reported this to his son, who insisted even more fervently than before. Thus the king had to force the parents to marry off their daughter. With tears and crying the bride was taken from her castle and dragged to the wedding. It was a sad affair, as though each of the guests could foresee that the second bride would fare no better than had the first one. And that is exactly what happened, because when the bridegroom wanted to jump into bed, he hit her on the neck with his plump feet, and -- she was dead. The sorrow cannot be described that ruled in the king's castle as well as in the other castle. The wild pig was beside himself because of what had happened, and he struck his head against the walls as if he were tired of living. The bride's parents could not be consoled. Of three daughters, they now had only one, who was still a tender young girl, and they were afraid of losing her as they had the others. Thus they wanted to pack their belongings and move to a foreign country. When the king heard this, he became even sadder than before, and even angrier with his son. He asked the rich lord to remain in his castle and promised him that he would drive away the wild pig immediately. And he kept this promise. The poor prince was driven out of the castle without pity or compassion, and he ran into a nearby forest. The rich lord's third daughter was a beautiful girl, and because she was as good as an angel, her parents no longer thought about the terrible way they had lost their other daughters. One day everyone left castle to go walking in the woods. The girl liked the beautiful wildflowers so much that she could not pick enough of them, and the birds sang so beautifully that she could not hear them enough. She picked and picked, and listened and listened. Thus she fell further behind the others until she was finally all by herself. While she sat there picking flowers, a wild pig suddenly ran up to her, took her on his back, and ran away with her. Her father and mother called and called, and the other people looked everywhere, but the girl could not be found, and that evening they had to return to the castle without the poor girl. The wild pig did not eat her up, but instead carried her a long way off to a deep cave, where no person would dare to enter. He set the girl down quietly and gently and made a bed for her from soft moss. He ran back into the woods and returned with flowers and strawberries. In short, he did everything he could to please the girl, as far as he could tell from her eyes. Now I don't have to tell you that the wild pig was none other than the enchanted prince. The girl felt more and more at ease, and finally she began to stroke the wild pig's coarse bristly head with her hands. He licked her hands and was so happy that tears ran from his eyes. 'Why are you crying?' asked the girl. 'Why should I not cry?' said the wild pig. 'You could redeem me, but I know that you will not do so.' This saddened the girl, and she herself began to cry, saying, 'Oh yes, I want to redeem you, wild pig, just tell me what I have to do.' The pig answered, 'And what if I tell you, and you still don't do it? But I will tell you: You must take me as your husband, and marry me, and be my wife.' With that the girl laughed and jumped up and said, 'If that is all I have to do, then I will redeem you.' When the wild pig heard this he jumped up three times with joy. Then he ran off and brought back enough soft green moss to make a bed in which they could comfortably sleep together. That night the girl had an unusual dream. She thought that someone told her to get up early the next morning and take the large pelt that she would find next to the bed. Then she should leave the cave, close it off with a stone, and on this stone burn the pelt to ashes. This seemed very strange to her. At the day's first dawning she looked out of the bed and did indeed see a large pelt, like one from a wild pig, lying there. The girl took courage, went to the cave's entrance, and with all the power she could muster rolled a heavy stone that lay nearby to the entrance. Then she made a large fire, and as soon as it was burning well, she threw the pelt into it. It had scarcely begun to burn when a pitiful crying and moaning sounded from within the cave. The girl would have liked to open the cave, but the stone had become too hot, and she would have burned her hands terribly on it. After the fire was out and the stone had cooled off a little, she shoved the stone aside, as best she could. The most handsome prince that one can imagine stood before her. He threw his arms around her neck and cried, 'Now do you see that you have redeemed me? You are mine and I am yours, and if your two sisters had been as willing as you, then they would not be dead!' The prince left the cave with the girl and went to the king's castle and explained everything to him and to the queen. The girl's parents were summoned from the other castle, and he explained everything to them. Three days later they held the wedding with great pomp and ceremony, and one has never seen a more handsome bridegroom than the prince or a more beautiful bride than the girl. Not long afterward the old king died. The prince came to the throne, and the girl became his queen, and if they have not stood up from throne, then they are still seated upon it. Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1845), no. 3, pp. 16-21.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
47A,Brother Fox Catches Mr. Horse,African American,Nights with Uncle Remus,"Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1883), no. 2, pp. 8-12.","One day Brer Rabbit was going along the road studying how he was going to hold his own with Brer Fox when he saw a great big horse lying stretched out flat on his side in the pasture. He crept up, he did, to see if this horse had gone and died. He crept up, and he crept around, and by and by he saw the horse switch his tail, and then Brer Rabbit knew he wasn't dead. With that, Brer Rabbit loped back to the big road, and almost the first man he saw going by was Brer Fox. Brer Rabbit, he took after him, and hollered, 'Brer Fox! O Brer Fox! Come back! I've got some good news for you. Come back, Brer Fox,' he said. Brer Fox, he turned around, he did, and when he saw who was calling him he came galloping back, because it seemed like this was just as good a time as any to nab Brer Rabbit. But before he got within nabbing distance, Brer Rabbit, he up and said, 'Come on, Brer Fox! I just found the place where you can lay in fresh meat enough to last you plumb until the middle of next year,' he said. Brer Fox, he asked where it was, and Brer Rabbit, he said, 'Right over there in the pasture,' and Brer Fox asked what it was, and Brer Rabbit said it was a whole horse lying down on the ground where they could catch him and tie him up. With that, Brer Fox said, 'Come on,' and off they went. When they got there, sure enough, they lay the horse all stretched out in the sun fast asleep, and then Brer Fox and Brer Rabbit had a dispute about how they were going to fix the horse so he could not get loose. One said one way and the other said another way, and so it was until after a while Brer Rabbit said, 'The only plan I can think of, Brer Fox, is for you to go down there and let me tie you to the horse's tail,' he said. 'If I were a big man like you are,' said Brer Rabbit, 'you could tie me to the horse's tail, and if I didn't hold him down, then Joe's dead and Sal's a widow. I just know that you can hold him down,' said Brer Rabbit. 'But if you are afraid, we had just better drop this idea and study out some other plan,' he said. Brer Fox was sort of dubious about this, but it pleased him to play biggity in front of Brer Rabbit, and he agreed to the plan. Then Brer Rabbit, he took and tied Brer Fox to the horse's tail, and after he had him tied there hard and fast, he sort of stepped back, he did, and put his hands akimbo, and grinned, and then he said, 'If there ever was a caught horse then it is this one that we caught. It sort of looks like we put the bridle on the wrong end.' With that Brer Rabbit cut himself a long switch and trimmed it up. When he had it fixed, he stepped up and hit the horse a rap -- pow! The horse was so surprised at this that he made one jump and landed on his feet. When he did that, there was Brer Fox dangling in the air. Brer Rabbit, he darted out of the way and hollered, 'Hold him down, Brer Fox! Hold him down! I'll stand out here and not get in your way. Hold him down, Brer Fox! Hold him down!' Of course, when the horse felt Brer Fox hanging there on his tail, he thought something was the matter, and this made him jump and rear worse and worse, and he shook up Brer Fox just like he was a rag in the wind, and Brer Rabbit, he jumped and hollered, 'Hold him down, Brer Fox! Hold him down! You've got him now! Hold your grip, and hold him down!' he The horse, he jumped ,and he jumped, and he ripped, and he reared, and he snorted, and he tore. But Brer Fox kept hanging on, and Brer Rabbit kept skipping around hollering, 'Hold him down, Brer Fox! You've got him where he can't get away. Hold him down, Brer Fox!' he said. By and by, when Brer Fox got the chance, he hollered back, he did, 'How in the name of goodness am I going to hold the horse down unless I get my claws in the ground?' Then Brer Rabbit, he stood back a little further and hollered a little louder, 'Hold him down, Brer Fox! Hold him down! You've got him now! Hold him down!' By and by the horse began to kick with his hind legs, and the first thing you know, he fetched Brer Fox a lick in the stomach that fairly made him squall, and then he kicked him again, and this time he broke Brer Fox loose, and sent him a-whirling; and Brer Rabbit, he kept on a-jumping around and hollering, 'Hold him down, Brer Fox!' 'Did the fox get killed, Uncle Remus?' asked the little boy. 'He wasn't exactly killed, honey,' replied the old man, 'but he was next door to it. He was all broken up, and while he was getting well, it sort of came across his mind that Brer Rabbit and done and played a trick on him.' Aarne-Thompson type 47A, 'Brother Wolf Falls a Victim' (no. 36, pp. 208-14).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
47A,Fox and Wolf,Netherlands,"Cox-Leick's and Cox's source: G. J. Boekenoogen, Volkskunde, vol. 15 (1903), pp. 112-113. Collected 1894 in Beilen, province of Drente. The type 47A episode given above is part of a longer tale. Link to the entire tale Fox and Wolf.","A. M. A. Cox-Leick and H. L. Cox, 'Fuchs und Wolf,' Märchen der Niederlande (Düsseldorf: Eugen Diederichs Verlag, 1977), no. 64, p. 213. © 1964 by Eugen Diederichs Verlag.","A fox and a wolf found an old horse in a mire. They wanted to take it with them and asked one another how they might manage. The fox said, 'You are the strongest. Tie the horse's tail around your body and pull, while I prod the horse with a stick.' That happened, and soon the horse was out of the mud, but it then ran off with the wolf tied to its tail. 'Claw your paws into the ground!' cried the fox. 'But I can see neither heaven nor earth!' answered the wolf. Finally the wolf succeeded in breaking loose, and he and the fox continued on their way, but without the horse. Märchen der Niederlande (Düsseldorf: Eugen Diederichs vol. 15 (1903), pp. 112-113. Collected 1894 in Beilen, province of Drente. entire tale Fox and Wolf.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
47A,Reynard Wants to Taste Horseflesh,Norway,Link to the tale in Norwegian: Bjørnen og reven: Mikkel vil smake hestekjøtt.,"P. C. Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated from the Norwegian by H. L. Brækstad (New York: A. L. Burt Company, n.d.), pp. 169-171. Translator's preface dated London, September 1897.","One day the bear was lying eating a horse which he had killed. Reynard was about again and came slinking along, his mouth watering for a tasty bit of the horseflesh. He sneaked in and out and round about till he came up behind the bear, when he made a spring to the other side of the carcass, snatching a piece as he jumped across. The bear was not slow either. He made a dash after Reynard and caught the tip of his red tail in his paw. Since that time the fox has always had a white tip to his tail. 'Wait a bit, Reynard, and come here,' said the bear, 'and I'll teach you how to catch horses.' Yes, Reynard was quite willing to learn that, but he didn't trust himself too near the bear. 'When you see a horse lying asleep in a sunny place,' said the bear, 'you must tie yourself fast with the hair of his tail to your brush, and then fasten your teeth in his thigh,' he said. Before long the fox found a horse lying asleep on a sunny hillside, and so he did as the bear had told him. He knotted and tied himself well to the horse with the hair of the tail and then fastened his teeth into his thigh. Up jumped the horse and began to kick and gallop, so that Reynard was dashed against stock and stone, and was so bruised and battered that he nearly lost his senses. All at once a hare rushed by. 'Where are you off to in such a hurry, Reynard?' asked the hare. 'I'm having a ride, Bunny!' said the fox. The hare sat up on his hind legs and laughed till the sides of his mouth split right up to his ears, at the thought of Reynard having such a grand ride; but since then the fox has never thought of catching horses again. That time it was Bruin who for once had the better of Reynard. Otherwise, they say the bear is as simple minded as the trolls. North, translated from the Norwegian by H. L. Brækstad (New York: A. L. Burt Company, n.d.), pp. 169-171. Translator's preface dated London, September 1897. og reven: Mikkel vil smake hestekjøtt.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
47A,The Fox and the Horse,Germany,Translated by Margaret Hunt (1885). Translation revised and corrected The Grimms' source: the von Haxthausen family.,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Der Fuchs und das Pferd, Kinder und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (1815), no. 46. In later editions this tale is number 132.","A peasant had a faithful horse which had grown old and could do no more work, so his master no longer wanted to give him anything to eat and said, 'I can certainly make no more use of you, but still I mean well by you, and if you prove yourself still strong enough to bring me a lion here, I will maintain you. But for now get out of my stable.' And with that he chased him into the open field. The horse was sad, and went to the forest to seek a little protection there from the weather. There the fox met him and said, 'Why do you hang your head so, and go about all alone?' 'Alas,' replied the horse, 'greed and loyalty do not dwell together in one house. My master has forgotten what services I have performed for him for so many years, and because I can no longer plow well, he will give me no more food, and has driven me out.' 'Without giving you a chance?' asked the fox. 'The chance was a bad one. He said, if I were still strong enough to bring him a lion, he would keep me, but he well knows that I cannot do that.' The fox said, 'I will help you. Just lie down, stretch out as if you were dead, and do not stir.' The horse did what the fox asked, and then the fox went to the lion, who had his den not far off, and said, 'A dead horse is lying out there. Just come with me, and you can have a rich meal.' The lion went with him, and when they were both standing by the horse the fox said, 'After all, it is not very comfortable for you here -- I tell you what -- I will fasten it to you by the tail, and then you can drag it into your cave and eat it in peace.' This advice pleased the lion. He positioned himself, and in order that the fox might tie the horse fast to him, he kept completely quiet. But the fox tied the lion's legs together with the horse's tail, and twisted and fastened everything so well and so strongly that no amount of strength could pull it loose. When he had finished his work, he tapped the horse on the shoulder and said, 'Pull, white horse, pull!' Then up sprang the horse at once, and pulled the lion away with him. The lion began to roar so that all the birds in the forest flew up in terror, but the horse let him roar, and drew him and dragged him across the field to his master's door. When the master saw the lion, he was of a better mind, and said to the horse, 'You shall stay with me and fare well.' And he gave him plenty to eat until he died. das Pferd, Kinder und Hausmärchen, vol. 2 (1815), no. 46. In later editions this tale is number 132. and the Horse by the Grimm brothers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
47A,The Fox and the Wolf,Native American (Chickasaw),"Speck's source: Josiah Mikey, a Chickasaw Indian living in Oklahoma.","F. G. Speck, 'European Tales among the Chickasaw Indians,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 26 (1913), p. 292.","The fox and the wolf were friends. One time they agreed to go hunting. The fox went off in one direction, and so did the wolf in another direction. The fox traveled in a circle, and by and by ran across the wolf. He asked him what luck he had had. The wolf told him that he had met with a dog, and asked the dog why he liked to stay around human beings. Said the dog, 'I like them because they defend me.' Then he asked the dog how they defended him. Said he, 'Look behind that tree!' Now, there stood a man with a gun. Then the wolf was terrified, ran off, and forgot about hunting until he met the fox. Now, the fox told what luck he had had. He had had good luck. He told the wolf that he found a dead horse; but the horse was lying very near a road, and he was afraid to tackle him alone. He told the wolf, however, that if he would help him carry the horse off, they would have a feast. The wolf agreed, and they went to where the dead horse was. They stopped near by. The wolf wouldn't believe the horse was dead. He told the fox to bring him a handful of hair. The fox brought him a handful of hair, and the wolf smelled it. Said he, 'Yes, he's been dead quite a while.' So now the wolf and fox consulted how to carry the dead horse away. The wolf allowed the fox to tie his tail to the dead horse's tail, and the fox took hold of his head to pull him off. When the wolf was securely tied to the horse's tail, the fox went over to his place near the head to get hold. Then suddenly he scratched the horse on the nose; and being, in truth, only asleep, the horse woke up, and dashed away, dragging the wolf. Then the fox shouted to the wolf, 'Hurrah for me, my friend!' But the wolf cried in despair, 'How can I hurrah, when I'm up in the air?'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1342,The Man and the Satyr,Aesop,NA,"Three Hundred Æsop's Fables, literally translated from the Greek by George Fyler Townsend (London and New York: George Routledge and Sons, 1871), p. 181.","A man and a satyr once poured out libations together in token of a bond of alliance being formed between them. One very cold wintry day, as they talked together, the man put his fingers to his mouth and blew on them. On the satyr inquiring the reason of this, he told him that he did it to warm his hands, they were so cold. Later on in the day they sat down to eat, the food prepared being quite scalding. The man raised one of the dishes a little towards his mouth and blew in it. On the satyr again inquiring the reason of this, he said that he did it to cool the meat, it was so hot. 'I can no longer consider you as a friend,' said the Satyr, 'a fellow who with the same breath blows hot and cold.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1342,The Peasant and the Satyrs,Flanders,"Flanders is the northern part of Belgium, where the native language is Flemish (Dutch).","Jean de Bosschère, Folk Tales of Flanders (New York: Dodd, Mead, and Company, 1918), pp. 159-62.","One cold winter's day a peasant set out on a journey which led him through the depths of a forest into which he had not hitherto been. The result was that he lost his way, and after wandering about for many hours in the hope of finding it again, he found himself, just as dusk was coming on, in a little clearing where he was overjoyed to see a small house with a cheerful light in the window. 'Here is a chance of supper and a bed,' thought the peasant, and he made haste to go up to the cottage door. Now this house in the clearing was not inhabited by men, but by some strange forest folk who were called satyrs. If you want to know what they were like, you must look at the pictures. Certainly the peasant had never seen anything like them before, although he had often heard of them, and when he nearly tumbled over the little satyr children who were playing in the snow outside the house door, he was the most surprised man in all those parts. It was too late to draw back however, so he went boldly up to the door and gave a loud knock. 'Come in!' cried a gruff voice, and the peasant accordingly went in and found himself facing the father of all the satyrs, who had a long beard and a pair of horns jutting from his forehead. The poor fellow's knees trembled underneath him for fright, especially when he saw all the other satyrs, the mother and the uncles and the aunts, glowering at him. 'Please forgive me for my intrusion,' said he, 'but I have lost my way in the woods, and I am half dead with hunger and cold. It would be an act of great kindness if you would give me some food and allow me to take shelter for the night.' So saying, to give point to his remarks, he set to work to blow upon his chilled fingers, which indeed were blue with the cold. 'Why are you blowing your fingers?' asked the father of all the satyrs curiously. 'Why, to warm them,' answered the peasant, and he blew harder than before. 'Well, sit down,' said the satyr. 'As it happens we are just about to have supper, and you are welcome to share it with us.' So the peasant sat down to supper, and all the satyr family sat down too, and watched him with big unblinking eyes, so that he felt very uncomfortable. A big basin of soup was set before him, and finding it very hot, he began to blow upon it. At this all the satyr family cried out in surprise, and the father satyr said, ' Why are you blowing your soup?' 'To cool it,' answered the peasant. 'It is too hot, and I am afraid it may scald my mouth.' Another and a louder cry of surprise came from all the satyrs, but the father cried out loudest of all, and seemed very indignant. 'Come,' he said, advancing to the peasant and taking him by the collar. 'Out you go! There is no place in my house for a man who can blow hot and cold with the same breath. That smells too much of sorcery or magic. Out you go, I say, and practise your spells in the forest.' So the poor peasant had to go supperless and spend the night in the woods, with no shelter but the trees, and the snow for coverlet. And, if you wish to know when all this happened, all I can tell you is that it was a very long time ago, in the days when fishes flew, and cats had wings.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1342,The Peasant and the Student,Germany,NA,"Conrad Purselt, Fons Aquae Triplici Scaturigine Salientis in Vitam Aeternam: Dritte Quell Sonntäglicher Predigen (Augsburg and Dillingen: In Verlag Johann Caspar Bencards, 1707), vol. 3, p. 118.","Once in wintertime a student found shelter with a peasant. Taking a place next to the stove, the student blew onto his hands. The peasant asked him why he was doing that, to which the student answered that he was warming his hands with his breath. The peasant then invited him to stay for dinner. The student blew on his soup, and the peasant asked him why was doing that. 'To cool off the soup with my breath,' was the answer. 'Oho!' said the peasant. 'Are you one of those who can blow hot and cold out of their mouths? Be on your way! I learned from my father to be wary of anyone who blows hot and cold out of his mouth.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1342,The Satyr and the Traveler,Jean de La Fontaine,"Link to La Fontaine's fable in the original French: 'Le Satyre et le Passant,' Œuvres complètes de Jean de La Fontaine (Paris: Firmin Didot Frères, 1840), livre 5, fable 7, pp. 47-48.","The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright(London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 5, fable 7, pp. 108-109.","Within a savage forest grot A satyr and his chips Were taking down their porridge hot; Their cups were at their lips. You might have seen in mossy den, Himself, his wife, and brood; They had not tailor-clothes, like men, But appetites as good. In came a traveller, benighted, All hungry, cold, and wet, Who heard himself to eat invited With nothing like regret. He did not give his host the pain His asking to repeat; But first he blew with might and main To give his fingers heat. Then in his steaming porridge dish He delicately blew. The wondering satyr said, 'I wish The use of both I knew.' 'Why, first, my blowing warms my hand, And then it cools my porridge.' 'Ah!' said his host, 'then understand I cannot give you storage. To sleep beneath one roof with you, I may not be so bold. Far be from me that mouth untrue Which blows both hot and cold.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1408,The Husband Who Was to Mind the House,NA,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Mannen som skulle stelle hjemme, Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo], 1842-1852), translated by George Webb Dasent (1859). Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 1408, The Man Who Did His Wife's Work. D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology. Trading Places. Additional folktales in which family members exchange jobs with disastrous results. The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. In this fable three family members exchange jobs.",NA,"Norway Once upon a time there was a man who was so bad tempered and cross that he never thought his wife did anything right in the house. One evening, in haymaking time, he came home, scolding and swearing, and showing his teeth and making a commotion. 'Dear love, don't be so angry. That's a good man,' said his wife, 'tomorrow let's change jobs. I'll go out with the mowers and mow, and you can mind the house at home.' Yes, the husband thought that would do very well. He was quite willing, he said. So early the next morning, his wife took a scythe over her neck, and went out into the hay field with the mowers and began to mow. But the man was to mind the house and do the work at home. First of all he wanted to churn the butter. But when he had churned a while, he got thirsty and went down to the cellar to tap a barrel of ale. He had just knocked in the bung and was putting in the tap, when he heard the pig come into the kitchen above. As fast as he could, he ran up the cellar steps, with the tap in his hand, to keep the pig from upsetting the churn. But when he got there he saw that the pig had already knocked the churn over, and was standing there routing and grunting in the cream which was running all over the floor. He got so angry that he quite forgot the ale barrel and ran at the pig as hard as he could. He caught it, too, just as it ran out of doors, and gave it such a powerful kick that he killed it on the spot. Then he remembered he had the tap in his hand. But when he returned to the cellar, all the ale had run out of the barrel. Then he went into the milk-shed and found enough cream left to fill the churn again, and so he began to churn, for they had to have butter for dinner. When he had churned a bit, he remembered that their milk cow was still shut up in the barn and hadn't had a bit to eat or a drop to drink all morning, although the sun was high. It occurred to him that it was too far to take her down to the meadow, so he'd just get her up onto the roof, for it was a sod roof, and a fine crop of grass was growing there. The house was close against a steep hill, and he thought if he laid a plank across to the back of the roof he'd easily get the cow up. But he couldn't leave the churn, for his little baby was crawling about on the floor. 'If I leave it,' he thought, 'the child will tip it over.' So he put the churn on his back, and went out with it. But then he thought he'd better first water the cow before he put her onto the roof, so he picked up a bucket to draw water out of the well. But as he stooped over the edge of the well all the cream ran out of the churn over his shoulder and down into the well. Now it was nearly dinner time, and he hadn't even finished the butter yet, so he thought he'd best boil the porridge. He filled the pot with water and hung it over the fire. When he had done that, it occurred to him that the cow might fall off the roof and break her legs or her neck, so he climbed up onto the house to tie her up. He tied one end of the rope around the cow's neck. He slipped the other end down the chimney and tied it around his own leg. Then he had to hurry, for the water was now boiling in the pot, and he still had to grind the oatmeal. He began to grind away; but while he was hard at it, the cow fell off the roof, dragging the man up the chimney by the rope. There he stuck fast. As for the cow, she hung halfway down the wall, swinging between heaven and earth, for she could neither get down nor up. Now the wife waited seven lengths and seven breadths for her husband to come and call her home to dinner, but he never came. At last she thought she'd waited long enough, and she went home. But when she arrived home and saw the cow hanging there, she ran up and cut the rope with her scythe. When she did this, her husband fell down from within the chimney. When the old woman came inside, she found him with his head in the porridge pot. Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Mannen som skulle stelle hjemme, Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo], 1842-1852), translated by George Webb Dasent (1859). Ashliman. Work. Related links fairy tales, and mythology. Additional folktales in which family members exchange jobs with disastrous results. Sausage by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. In this fable three family members exchange jobs.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,Brother Wolf Still in Trouble,African-American,1999.,"Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1883), no. 46, pp. 274-79.","Brer Rabbit was walking down the road, talking and laughing to himself, when he heard something. He stopped talking and began to hum a tune, but he didn't meet anyone. Then he stopped and listened, and he heard something holler, 'Oh, Lordy! Lordy! Won't somebody come and help me?' Brer Rabbit heard this, and he stopped and listened. It wasn't long before something or the other hollered out, 'O, Lordy, Lordy! Please, somebody, come and help me.' Brer Rabbit, he hoisted up his ears, he did, and he answered back, 'Who are you, anyhow, and what in the name of goodness is the matter?' 'Please, somebody, run here!' Brer Rabbit, he took and stood on three legs to make sure of getting a good start if there was any need of it, and he hollered back, 'Whereabouts are you, and how come you are there?' 'Do, please, somebody, run here and help a poor miserable creature. I'm down here in the big gully under this here big rock.' Old Brer Rabbit crept down to the big gully and looked in, and who in the name of goodness do you suspect he saw down there? -- Nobody in the round world but that there old Brer Wolf was down there in the big gully. And, bless gracious, on top of him was a great big rock. And if you want to know the reason that the great big rock hadn't totally killed Brer Wolf, then you'll have to ask someone who knows more about it than what I do, because it looks to me like it should have smashed him flat. Yet there he was, and not only had he not been killed, but he had strength enough left to make folks a mile off hear him hollering. And he was hollering so lonesome that it made Brer Rabbit feel might sorry, and no sooner was he feeling sorry, than he held his coattails out of the way and slid down the bank in order to see what he could do. When he got down there, Brer Wolf asked him, please, sir, couldn't he help him remove that there rock. And Brer Rabbit allowed he suspected he could. And with that, Brer Wolf hollered and told him for mercy's sake, wouldn't he hurry and do it. With that, Brer Rabbit took hold of the rock and humped himself, and it wasn't long before he got some purchase on it, and bless your soul, he lifted it up, just like someone at log-rolling. It turned out that Brer Wolf wasn't hurt much, and when he found this out, he took and grabbed Brer Rabbit by the nap of the neck and the small of the back. Brer Rabbit, he kicked and squealed, but it didn't do any manner of good, because the more he kicked, the tighter Brer Wolf clamped him, and he squeezed him so hard that Brer Rabbit was afraid he was going to cut off his breath. Brer Rabbit, he allowed, 'Well then, Brer Wolf! Is this here the way you thank folks for saving your life?' Brer Wolf grinned big, and then he up and allowed, 'I'll thank you, Brer Rabbit, and then I'll make fresh meat out of you.' Brer Rabbit allowed, he did, 'If you talk that way, Brer Wolf, I'll never do you another good turn as long as I live.' Brer Wolf, he grinned some more, and allowed, 'That you won't, Brer Rabbit. That you won't. You won't do me any more good turns until you are dead.' Brer Rabbit, he sort of studied to himself, he did, and then he allowed, 'Where I come from, Brer Wolf, it's against the law for folks to kill those that have done them a good turn, and I suspect it's against the law around here as well.' Brer Wolf said he wasn't right sure about that. Brer Rabbit said he was willing to leave the whole case with Brer Terrapin, and Brer Wolf said he was agreeable. With that, they put out, they did, and made their way to where old Brer Terrapin was staying. When they got there, Brer Wolf, he took and told his side, and then Brer Rabbit, he took and told his side. Old Brer Terrapin put on his spectacles and cleared up his throat, and then he allowed, 'Something is mixed up in this here dispute, and before I can take any side, you'll just have to take me to see the place where Brer Wolf was when Brer Rabbit found him,' he said. Sure enough, they took old Brer Terrapin down the big road until they came to the big gully, and then they took him to where Brer Wolf got caught under the big rock. Old Brer Terrapin, he walked around, he did, and poked at the place with the end of his cane. By and by he shook his head, he did, and he allowed, 'I hate mightily to put you gents to so much trouble, yet there are no two ways about it. I'll have to see just how Brer Wolf was caught, and just how the rock was lying on top of him,' he said. 'The older folks get, the more trouble they are,' he said, 'and I am ripening just like a persimmon that's been struck with the frost,' he said. Then Brer Wolf, he took and lay down where he was when Brer Rabbit found him, and the others, they up and rolled the rock on top of him, and there he was. Brer Terrapin, he walked all around and looked at him. Then he sat down, he did, and made marks in the sand with his cane like he was studying about something or the other. By and by Brer Wolf, he opened up, 'Ow, Brer Terrapin! This here rock is getting mighty heavy!' Brer Terrapin, he marked in the sand, and studied, and studied. Brer Wolf hollered, 'Ow, Brer Terrapin! This here rock is mashing the breath out of me.' Brer Terrapin, he reared back, he did, and he allowed, 'Brer Rabbit, you were in the wrong. You didn't have any business to come along and bother Brer Wolf when he wasn't bothering you. He was tending to his own business, and you ought to have been tending to yours.' This made Brer Rabbit look ashamed of himself, but Brer Terrapin talked right along, 'When you were going down this here road this morning, you surely must have been going somewhere. If you were going somewhere, you had better be going on. Brer Wolf, he wasn't going anywhere then, and he's not going anywhere now. You found him under that rock, and you should leave him under that rock.' And bless gracious, those creatures walked off from there and left old Brer Wolf under that there rock. with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1883), no. 46, pp. 274-79.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,Ingratitude Is the World's Reward,Moravia,Moravia is in today's Czech Republic.,"Marie Kosch, Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Mähren (Kremsier: Heinrich Gusek, 1899), pp. 107-109.","A peasant in his field once heard a voice calling, 'Help me! Help me!' He looked around but saw no one. Finally he discovered that the voice was coming from below, from beneath a large stone. Rolling it onto its side he saw a hole where there was a large snake. It slithered out and was about to tear the peasant to pieces. 'What!' said the peasant. 'My reward for having freed you from your prison is be torn to pieces?' 'Didn't you know,' replied the snake, 'that ingratitude is the world's reward?' 'I do not believe that,' said the peasant. 'Come, let us go together to a judge who will decide if you have the right to tear me to pieces.' So the went to seek a judge. After going a little way they came to a tree onto which was tied an old horse. 'What are you doing there?' the peasant asked the horse. 'Who tied you here?' 'Oh,' it said, 'my master has gone to fetch a knacker who is to kill me, for I am too old and week to pull the plow and other loads. When I was young and strong, my master had only praise for me, but now he has no use for me, and thus I will have to die.' 'You see, peasant,' said the snake, 'there you have proof that ingratitude is the world's reward. Now I am going to tear you to pieces.' 'No,' said the peasant. 'Let us go to another judge.' So they went further. A dog came ran up to them and sought the peasant's protection against his master, who was about to shoot him. He had now grown unable to watch over the house, and he told the peasant that his master had held him dearly when he was young and could watch over the house and the yard, but now that he was old and weak, he had acquired another dog and wanted to shoot him. 'There you have the second proof that ingratitude is the world's reward,' said the snake. 'You must admit that I have the right to tear you apart.' But the peasant did not want to admit this, and while they were arguing about it, a fox came their way and asked why they were quarreling. 'Wait,' thought the peasant. 'The fox is very sly. He could be our judge.' He explained the case to him, who then took the peasant aside and said to him, 'If you will promise me two roosters then I'll free you from the snake.' 'They will be yours,' said the peasant. 'Now,' said the fox, 'if I am to be your judge then I must see the hole where the snake was caught. I cannot make a judgment until I have seen it.' So they turned around and went back to the hole. Upon seeing it, the fox said, 'What? Such a large snake was caught in this small hole? I do not believe it. It is entirely impossible! First you must convince me that there is room for you there. Snake, crawl inside and show me that you really were caught there.' The snake crawled inside, and he had scarcely done so when then fox quickly rolled the stone back in place, capturing him again, however much he cried out 'Help me!' The peasant was very happy and told the fox to come that evening to fetch the roosters. He would leave the back gate to his yard open so he could get in. The fox came that evening when everyone was eating supper. He found the back gate open and crept inside. But when he neared the chicken coop, the chickens saw him and cried out. The peasant's wife heard the noise, went to see what was wrong, and discovered the fox. 'Wait,' she said, 'I'll light the way home for you.' She ran into the kitchen, picked up a burning piece of wood, ran back to the chicken coop, and hit the fox so long with it until his pelt was all burned up. Crying out, he ran away. When he was halfway out he shouted 'Ingratitude is still the world's reward.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,Inside Again,Europe,"The concluding episode, in which the fox is given a dog in a sack instead of the agreed upon chickens, is classified as Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 154. Link to additional tales of type 154.","Joseph Jacobs, Europa's Fairy Book [also published under the title European Folk and Fairy Tales], restored from various sources and retold by Joseph Jacobs (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), no. 20, pp. 165-69.","A man was walking through the forest one day when he saw a funny black thing like a whip wriggling about under a big stone. He was curious to know what it all meant. So he lifted up the stone and found there a huge black snake. 'That's well,' said the snake. 'I have been trying to get out for two days, and, Oh, how hungry I am. I must have something to eat, and there is nobody around, so I must eat you.' 'But that wouldn't be fair,' said the man with a trembling voice. 'But for me you would never have come out from under the stone.' 'I do not care for that,' said the snake. 'Self preservation is the first law of life; you ask anybody if that isn't so.' 'Anyone will tell you,' said the man, 'that gratitude is a person's first duty, and surely you owe me thanks for saving your life.' 'But you haven't saved my life, if I am to die of hunger,' said the snake. 'Oh yes, I have,' said the man; 'all you have to do is to wait till you find something to eat.' 'Meanwhile I shall die, and what's the use of being saved!' So they disputed and they disputed whether the case was to be decided by the claims of gratitude or the rights of self-preservation, till they did not know what to do. 'I tell you what I'll do,' said the snake, 'I'll let the first passer-by decide which is right.' 'But I can't let my life depend upon the word of the first comer.' 'Well, we'll ask the first two that pass by.' 'Perhaps they won't agree,' said the man; 'what are we to do then? We shall be as badly off as we are now.' 'Ah, well,' said the snake, 'let it be the first three. In all law courts it takes three judges to make a session. We'll follow the majority of votes.' So they waited till at last there came along an old, old horse. And they put the case to him, whether gratitude should ward off death. 'I don't see why it should,' said the horse. 'Here have I been slaving for my master for the last fifteen years, till I am thoroughly worn out, and only this morning I heard him say, 'Roger' -- that's my name -- 'is no use to me any longer; I shall have to send him to the knacker's and get a few pence for his hide and his hoofs.' There's gratitude for you.' So the horse's vote was in favor of the snake. And they waited till at last an old hound passed by limping on three legs, half blind with scarcely any teeth. So they put the case to him. 'Look at me,' said he; 'I have slaved for my master for ten years, and this very day he has kicked me out of his house because I am no use to him any longer, and he grudged me a few bones to eat. So far as I can see nobody acts from gratitude.' 'Well,' said the snake, 'there's two votes for me. What's the use of waiting for the third? he's sure to decide in my favor, and if he doesn't it's two to one. Come here and I'll eat you!' 'No, no,' said the man, 'a bargain's a bargain; perhaps the third judge will be able to convince the other two and my life will be saved.' So they waited and they waited, till at last a fox came trotting along; and they stopped him and explained to him both sides of the case. He sat up and scratched his left ear with his hind paw, and after a while he beckoned the man to come near him. And when he did so the fox whispered, 'What will you give me if I get you out of this?' The man whispered back, 'A pair of fat chickens.' 'Well,' said the fox, 'if I am to decide this case I must clearly understand the situation. Let me see! If I comprehend aright, the man was lying under the stone and the snake -- -- ' 'No, no,' cried out the horse and the hound and the snake. 'It was the other way.' 'Ah, ha, I see! The stone was rolling down and the man sat on it, and then -- -- ' 'Oh, how stupid you are,' they all cried; 'it wasn't that way at all.' 'Dear me, you are quite right. I am very stupid, but, really, you haven't explained the case quite clearly to me.' 'I'll show you,' said the snake, impatient from his long hunger; and he twisted himself again under the stone and wriggled his tail till at last the stone settled down upon him and he couldn't move out. 'That's the way it was.' 'And that's the way it will be,' said the fox, and, taking the man's arm, he walked off, followed by the horse and the hound. 'And now for my chickens.' 'I'll go and get them for you,' said the man, and went up to his house, which was near, and told his wife all about it. 'But,' she said, 'why waste a pair of chickens on a foxy old fox! I know what I'll do.' So she went into the back yard and unloosed the dog and put it into a meal-bag and gave it to the man, who took it down and gave it to the fox, who trotted off with it to his den. But when he opened the bag out sprung the dog and gobbled him all up. There's gratitude for you.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,Of Nature and the Returns of Ingratitude,Gesta Romanorum,"About the collection Gesta Romanorum: Only a few of the 283 entries of the Gesta Romanorum (Deeds of the Romans), written in Latin by an anonymous English scribe about 1330, deal with the Romans. Instead, the work presents a mixture of anecdotes, legends, and fables, all with appended morals, called 'applications.' In some instances the connection between the stories and their claimed moral application is tenuous at best. The awkward moralizing notwithstanding, this collection provided material for numerous writers of later generations, including William Shakespeare, Lope de Vega, Jean de La Fontaine, and Gotthold Ephraim Lessing.","Gesta Romanorum, translated by Charles Swan (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 174, pp. 336-37.","An emperor rode out in the afternoon to hunt. Happening to pass a certain wood, he heard a serpent, which some shepherds had caught and bound firmly to a tree, making a most horrible clamor. Moved by pity, he loosed it, and warmed its frozen body in his own bosom. No sooner, however, did the animal find itself recovered, than it began to bite its benefactor, and shot a flood of poison into the wound. 'What have you done?' said the emperor. 'Wherefore have you rendered evil for good?' The serpent, like the ass of Balaam, being suddenly endowed with voice, replied, 'The propensities which nature has implanted no one can destroy. You have done what you could; and I have only acted according to my nature. You exhibited towards me all the kindness in your power, and I have recompensed you as well as I might. I offered poison, because, except poison, I had nothing to offer. Moreover, I am an enemy to man; for through him I became punished with a curse.' As they thus contended, they entreated a philosopher to judge between them, and to state which was in the wrong. 'I know this matter,' answered the umpire, 'only by your relation; but I should like to see the thing itself upon which I am to pronounce judgment. Let the serpent, therefore, be bound to the tree, as he was in the first instance, and let my lord the emperor remain unbound; I shall then determine the matter between you.' This was done accordingly. 'Now you are bound,' said the philosopher, addressing the serpent, loose yourself if you can.' 'I cannot,' said the serpent; 'I am bound so fast that I can scarcely move.' 'Then die,' rejoined the philosopher, 'by a just sentence. You were always ungrateful to man, and you always will be. My lord, you are now free. Shake the venom from your bosom, and go your way. Do not repeat your folly. Remember that the serpent is only influence by his natural propensities.' The emperor thanked the philosopher for his assistance and advice, and departed. Application: My beloved, the emperor is any good ecclesiastic, the wood is the world, and the serpent is the devil. The shepherds are the prophets, patriarchs, Christian preachers, etc. The philosopher is a discreet confessor.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,"The Brahman, the Tiger, and the Six Judges",India,NA,"Mary Frere, Old Deccan Days; or, Hindoo Fairy Legends Current in Southern India, 5th impression (London: John Murray, 1898), no. 14, pp. 135-38. First published 1868.","Once upon a time a Brahman, who was walking along the road, came upon an iron cage, in which a great tiger had been shut up by the villagers who caught him. As the Brahman passed by, the tiger called out and said to him, 'Brother Brahman, brother Brahman, have pity on me, and let me out of this cage for one minute only, to drink a little water, for I am dying of thirst.' The Brahman answered, 'No, I will not; for if I let you out of the cage you will eat me.' 'O father of mercy,' answered the tiger, 'in truth that will not. I will never be so ungrateful. Only let me out, that I may drink some water and return.' Then the Brahman took pity on him, and opened the cage door; but no sooner had he done so than the tiger, jumping out, said, 'Now, I will eat you first, and drink the water afterwards.' But the Brahman said, 'Only do not kill me hastily. Let us first ask the opinion of six, and if all of them say it is just and fair that you should put me to death, then I am willing to die.' 'Very well,' answered the tiger, 'it shall be as you say. We will first ask the opinion of six.' So the Brahman and the tiger walked on till they came to a banyan tree; and the Brahman said to it, 'Banyan tree, banyan tree, hear and give judgment.' 'On what must I give judgment ?' asked the banyan tree. 'This tiger,' said the Brahman,' begged me to let him out of his cage to drink a little water, and he promised not to hurt me if I did so. But now that I have let him out he wishes to eat me. Is it just that he should do so, or no?' The banyan tree answered, 'Men often come to take refuge in the cool shade under my boughs from the scorching rays of the sun; but when they have rested, they cut and break my pretty branches, and wantonly scatter the leaves that sheltered them. Let the tiger eat the man, for men are an ungrateful race.' At these words the tiger would have instantly killed the Brahman; but the Brahman said, 'Tiger, tiger, you must not kill me yet, for you promised that we should first hear the judgment of six.' 'Very well,' said the tiger, and they went on their way. After a little while they met a camel. 'Sir camel, sir camel,' cried the Brahman, 'hear and give judgment.' 'On what shall I give judgment?' asked the camel. And the Brahman related how the tiger had begged him to open the cage door, and promised not to eat him if he did so; and how he had afterwards determined to break his word, and asked if that were just or not. The camel replied, 'When I was young and strong, and could do much work, my master took care of me and gave me good food; but now that I am old, and have lost all my strength in his service, he overloads me, and starves me, and beats me without mercy. Let the tiger eat the man, for men are an unjust and cruel race.' The tiger would then have killed the Brahman, but the latter said, 'Stop, tiger, for we must first hear the judgment of six.' So they both went again on their way. At a little distance they found a bullock lying by the roadside. The Brahman said to him, 'Brother bullock, brother bullock, hear and give judgment.' 'On what must I give judgment?' asked the bullock. The Brahman answered, 'I found this tiger in a cage, and he prayed me to open the door and let him out to drink a little water, and promised not to kill me if I did so; but when I had let him out he resolved to put me to death. Is it fair he should do so or not?' The bullock said, 'When I was able to work, my master fed me well and tended me carefully, but now I am old he has forgotten all I did for him, and left me by the roadside to die. Let the tiger eat the man, for men have no pity.' Three out of the six had given judgment against the Brahman, but still he did not lose all hope, and determined to ask the other three. They next met an eagle flying through the air, to whom the Brahman cried, 'O eagle, great eagle, hear and give judgment.' 'On what must I give judgment?' asked the eagle. The Brahman stated the case, but the eagle answered, 'Whenever men see me they try to shoot me; they climb the rocks and steal away my little ones. Let the tiger eat the man, for men are the persecutors of the earth.' Then the tiger began to roar, and said, 'The judgment of all is against you, O Brahman!' But the Brahman answered, 'Stay yet a little longer, for two others must first be asked' After this they saw an alligator, and the Brahman related the matter to him, hoping for a more favorable verdict. But the alligator said, 'Whenever I put my nose out of the water, men torment me, and try to kill me. Let the tiger eat the man, for as long as men live we shall have no rest.' The Brahman gave himself up as lost; but once more he prayed the tiger to have patience, and to let him ask the opinion of the sixth judge. Now the sixth was a jackal. The Brahman again told his story, and said to him, 'Mama jackal, mama jackal, say what is your judgment?' The jackal answered, 'It is impossible for me to decide who is in the right and who in the wrong, unless I see the exact position in which you were when the dispute began. Show me the place.' So the Brahman and the tiger returned to the place where they first met, and the jackal went with them. When they got there, the jackal said, 'Now, Brahman, show me exactly where you stood.' 'Here,' said the Brahman, standing by the iron tiger cage. 'Exactly there, was it?' asked the jackal. 'Exactly here,' replied the Brahman. 'Where was the tiger then?' asked the jackal. 'In the cage,' answered the tiger. 'How do you mean?' said the jackal. 'How were you within the cage? Which way were you looking?' 'Why, I stood so,' said the tiger, jumping into the cage, 'and my head was on this side.' 'Very good,' said the jackal. 'But I cannot judge without understanding the whole matter exactly. Was the cage door open or shut?' 'Shut, and bolted,' said the Brahman. 'Then shut and bolt it,' said the jackal. When the Brahman had done this, the jackal said, 'Oh, you wicked and ungrateful tiger, when the good Brahman opened your cage door, is to eat him the only return you would make? Stay there, then, for the rest of your days, for no one will ever let you out again. Proceed on your journey, friend Brahman. Your road lies that way, and mine this.' So saying, the jackal ran off in one direction, and the Brahman went rejoicing on his way in the other. Deccan Days; or, Hindoo Fairy Legends Current in Southern India, 5th impression (London: John Murray, 1898), no. 14, pp. 135-38. First published 1868. Once upon a time, a tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed. By chance a poor Brahman came by. 'Let me out of this cage, oh pious one!' cried the tiger. 'Nay, my friend,' replied the Brahman mildly, 'you would probably eat me if I did.' 'Not at all!' swore the tiger with many oaths. 'On the contrary, I should be for ever grateful, and serve you as a slave!' Now when the tiger sobbed and sighed and wept and swore, the pious Brahman's heart softened, and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried, 'What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!' In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life. The most he could gain was a promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the tiger's action. So the Brahman first asked a pipal tree what it thought of the matter, but the pipal tree replied coldly, 'What have you to complain about? Don't I give shade and shelter to everyone who passes by, and don't they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don't whimper. Be a man!' Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went further afield till he saw a buffalo turning a well wheel. But he fared no better from it, for it answered, 'You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! Whilst I gave milk they fed me on cotton seed and oil cake, but now I am dry they yoke me here and give me refuse as fodder!' The Brahman, still more sad, asked the road to give him its opinion. 'My dear sir,' said the road, 'how foolish you are to expect anything else! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!' On this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a jackal, who called out, 'Why, what's the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish out of water!' The Brahman told him all that had occurred. 'How very confusing!' said the jackal, when the recital was ended. 'Would you mind telling me over again, for everything has got so mixed up?' The Brahman told it all over again, but the jackal shook his head in a distracted sort of way, and still could not understand. 'It's very odd,' said he, sadly, 'but it all seems to go in at one ear and out at the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment.' So they returned to the cage, by which the tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws. 'You've been away a long time!' growled the savage beast, 'but now let us begin our dinner.' 'Our dinner!' thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked together with fright. 'What a remarkably delicate way of putting it!' 'Give me five minutes, my lord!' he pleaded, 'in order that I may explain matters to the jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits.' The tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again, not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible. 'Oh, my poor brain! Oh, my poor brain!' cried the jackal, wringing its paws. 'Let me see! How did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the tiger cam walking by --' 'Pooh!' interrupted the tiger, 'what a fool you are! I was in the cage.' 'Of course!' cried the jackal, pretending to tremble with fright. 'Yes! I was in the cage -- no I wasn't -- dear! dear! where are my wits? Let me see -- the tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by -- no, that's not it, either! Well, don't mind me, but begin your dinner, for I shall never understand!' 'Yes, you shall!' returned the tiger, in a rage at the jackal's stupidity. 'I'll make you understand! Look here -- I am the tiger --' 'Yes, my lord!' 'And that is the Brahman --' 'And that is the cage --' 'And I was in the cage. Do you understand?' 'Yes -- no -- please, my lord --' 'Well?' cried the tiger impatiently. 'Please, my lord! How did you get in?' 'How! Why in the usual way, of course!' 'Oh, dear me! -- My head is beginning to whirl again! Please don't be angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?' At this the tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried, 'This way! Now do you understand how it was?' 'Perfectly!' grinned the jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, 'and if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they were!' Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1892), no. Jacobs' source: F. A. Steel and R.C. Temple, Wide-Awake Stories: A Collection of Tales Told by Little Children Between Sunset and Sunrise (Bombay: Education Society's Press; London: Trübner and Company, 1884), pp. 116-20. First published in",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The Camel Driver and the Adder,Bidpai,"Bidpai, according to tradition, was the compiler of the Indian book of wisdom, the Panchatantra, also spelled Pañca-tantra. This collection of tales and fables was compiled between 100 BC and 500 AD.","The Tortoise and the Geese and other Fables of Bidpai, retold by Maude Barrows Dutton (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1908), pp. 118-25. Dutton does not identify the text upon which she based her retelling.","A camel driver, crossing the plains, stopped to rest where a caravan had halted and built a fire the night before; in the morning they had moved on before it had died out. As the night wind arose, it fanned the sparks and soon set all the brushwood around on fire. In the midst of the brushwood lay coiled an adder, fast asleep. The flames, however, soon awoke him, but not until he was completely encircled by the fire. He was about to despair of his life, when he saw the camel driver and called upon him for aid. At first the camel driver hesitated, for he remembered the poisonous sting of the adder. Still, he could not bear to see any living creature suffer, so he promised to help the adder. He had a bag beneath his saddle. This he now drew forth and tied to the end of his spear. He then reached it over into the midst of the burning brush; the adder crawled inside, and the camel driver drew him safely out of the fire. 'Now go your way,' said the camel driver, loosening the neck of the bag so that the adder could glide out. 'Only remember the kindness which I have shown to you, and do you hereafter be kind to men in your turn.' 'I confess,' replied the adder, slipping out on the ground, 'that you have been kind to me, and yet I shall not go away until I have stung both you and your camel. I only leave it to you to decide whether I shall sting you first or the camel.' 'What a monster of ingratitude you are!' cried the camel driver. 'Is it right to return evil for good?' Such is the custom of men,' said the adder. 'You are not only ungrateful, but untruthful as well,' the camel driver made reply. 'It would be hard indeed for you to prove these words of yours. There is no other creature in the world, I venture to say, who will agree with you. If you can find out one other, I will allow you to sting me.' 'Very well,' responded the adder; 'let us put the question to yonder cow.' The cow stopped chewing her cud. 'If you mean what is man's custom,' she began, in answer to their question, 'I must answer to my sorrow that he is wont to repay evil for good. For many years I have been the faithful servant of a farmer. Every day I have supplied him with milk to drink and rich cream for his butter. Now I am old and no longer able to serve him. So he has put me out in this pasture that I may grow fat, and only yesterday he brought the butcher to see me. Tomorrow I am to be sold for beef. Surely this is repaying my kindness with evil.' 'You see,' said the adder to the camel driver, 'that what I said is true. Get ready for me to sting you. Shall it be you or the camel first?' 'Hold,' replied the camel driver. 'In court a decree is not passed without the testimony of two witnesses. Bring another witness, and if he agrees with the cow, you may do with me as you please.' The adder looked about him and saw that they were standing beneath a huge palm tree. 'Let us put the question to the tree,' he said. When the palm had heard their question, he shook his great branches sadly. 'Experience has taught me,' he moaned, 'that for every favor you do to men, you must expect some injury in return. I stand here in the desert, doing harm to none and good to many. Every traveler who comes by can rest beneath my shade. I bear dates for his refreshment, and gladly give my sap to quench his thirst. Yet when the traveler has eaten and slept beneath my shade, he looks up into my branches and says to himself, 'That branch would make me a good cane, or handle for my ax,' or 'What splendid wood there is in this tree! I must cut off a limb to make some new doors for my house.' And I must consent to this without a murmur. Thus is my kindness returned by men.' 'The two witnesses have now testified,' spoke the adder, 'and agree. Which shall I bite first, you or the camel?' But just at that moment a fox ran by, and the camel driver pleaded that they might hear one more testimony. The adder was so pleased with what the cow and the tree had said, that he readily agreed to listen to the fox. When the camel driver had finished telling the whole tale to the fox, the fox laughed out loud. 'You seem to be a clever fellow,' he replied to the camel driver. 'Why do you tell me such a falsehood?' 'Indeed, he is telling you nothing but the truth,' the adder hastened to assure the fox. Again the fox laughed outright. 'Do you mean to tell me,' he asked scornfully, 'that such a large adder as you could possibly get into such a small bag?' 'If you do not believe it, I will crawl in again and show you,' answered the adder. 'Well,' responded the fox, thoughtfully, 'if I see you in there with my own eyes, then I will consent to give my answer to your question.' The camel driver straightway held the bag open, and the adder crept in and coiled up in the bottom. 'Be quick now,' cried the fox, 'and draw the string. Any creature so lacking in gratitude as this adder deserves nothing but death.' retold by Maude Barrows Dutton (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1908), pp. 118-25. Dutton does not identify the text upon which she based her retelling. Bidpai, according to tradition, was the compiler of the Indian book of wisdom, the Panchatantra, also spelled Pañca-tantra. This collection of tales and fables was compiled between 100 BC and 500 AD.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,"The Crocodile, the Brahman, and the Fox",India,"The Panchatantra, also spelled Pañca-tantra, is a collection of tales and fables compiled between 100 BC and AD 500.","Theodor Benfey, Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), vol. 1, pp. 113-14.","A crocodile beseeched a Brahman to carry it to Benares, so it could live in the Ganges. Touched with compassion, the Brahman put the crocodile into his bag and carried it to the holy river. However, just as he was about to release the crocodile into the water, the latter seized him, and was about to kill him. The Brahman accused his captor of ingratitude, who in turn replied that virtue and custom allowed one to eat the person who had sustained him. The Brahman insisted that three impartial judges should decide the case, and declared himself willing to abide by their decision. They turned first to a mango tree, whom the Brahman asked if it were permitted to repay a good deed with evil. The mango tree replied that such was the treatment he and his kind always received from humans. 'They partake of our fruits and of our shade, and then uproot us,' it said. Next they turned to an old cow. She too said that humans had abandoned her after she was of no more use to them. Any moment she expected to fall prey to a wild animal. They still needed a third judgment, and for this they turned to a fox. He too seemed inclined against the Brahman, but before finalizing his decision, he wanted to see how the two had journeyed together. To demonstrate, the unsuspecting crocodile crept back into the Brahman's bag. Acting on a cue from the fox, the Braham struck the now helpless crocodile dead with a stone, and the fox ate it up.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,"The Farmer, the Crocodile, and the Jackal",Pakistan,"This tale includes episodes of the following Aarne-Thompson-Uther types: Type 155: The rescued crocodile threatens to eat his benefactor, but is then returned to captivity. Type 5: The jackal, his leg caught in the crocodile's jaws, claims 'You are biting a root, not my leg!' and the crocodile releases him. Type 66B: The trickster farmer plays dead in order to capture the jackal, who in turn tricks him into showing signs of life. Type 175: The farmer captures his victim with a doll made of sticky wax. The best-know variant of this tale is Joel Chandler Harris's Uncle Remus story of 'The Wonderful Tar-Baby.' Type 155: The rescued crocodile threatens to eat his benefactor, but is then returned to captivity. Type 5: The jackal, his leg caught in the crocodile's jaws, claims 'You are biting a root, not my leg!' and the crocodile releases him. Type 66B: The trickster farmer plays dead in order to capture the jackal, who in turn tricks him into showing signs of life. Type 175: The farmer captures his victim with a doll made of sticky wax. The best-know variant of this tale is Joel Chandler Harris's Uncle Remus story of 'The Wonderful Tar-Baby.'","J. F. A. McNair and Thomas Lambert Barlow, Oral Tradition from the Indus (Brighton: Cranbourne Printing Works, 1908), pp. 54-58.","There was once a wily old crocodile who dwelt in a tank [pond] hard by a village, and he was sometimes so ferocious that he would seize children who used to go for water there, then drown and eat them. He had become, in fact, the terror of the place. One year there was a very great drought, and the tank by degrees began to dry up, and at last it got quite dry, and the crocodile was to be seen grilling and roasting in the sun. He used to call out to the passers-by, 'Oh! pray take pity upon me and show me where I can go for water, for I am dying in this heat.' 'No, indeed! they all said. 'We are glad to see you suffering, for have you not often made us suffer by taking our goats, and sometimes even our children? We shall not help you in any way.' At last an old man passed by, and the crocodile appealed to him, and at first he replied as the others did, but afterwards he relented and said, 'Well, if you will follow me I will take you to a tank which is never dry.' So the crocodile followed him, and he showed him a tank no great distance off, which was filled with water. The old man went first into the tank himself, and calling to the crocodile, he said, 'See here, how deep it is!' No sooner had the crocodile had a good drink, than he made a grab at the old man's leg. 'Ah-ho! Ah-ho!' said the old man. 'What are you doing?' 'Well,' replied the crocodile, 'I have had a good drink, thanks to you, and as I have had no food for many days, I am going to make a meal of you. That is what I am going to do.' 'You wretched and ungrateful brute!' said the old man. 'Is this the way you reward me?' At that moment a jackal hove in sight, coming for a drink (the jackals, we know, are the most cunning of all animals), and the old man said, 'I will put my case before him, and if he says you are to eat me, very good, so you shall.' The old man then beckoned to the jackal to come close up to the tank, and told him all the facts of the case. The jackal said, 'You know I am always a just judge, and if you want me to decide, you must show me the place from whence you brought the crocodile.' So they all three wended their way back to the tank near the village, and the jackal said, 'Show me the exact spot where you first found the crocodile,' and when they got there the jackal said, 'Now I am going to give you my judgment, so prepare to listen.' Then turning to the old man, he said quietly, 'You silly old idiot! What made you ever help a crocodile? Now, you run one way, and I will run the other.' The jackal gave a skip, and was soon off out of sight, and the old man took to his heels also, and soon got away. The wily old crocodile, now balked of his prey, said to himself, 'I know my way back to that water tank, and I will someday have my revenge on that jackal, for he is sure to come there to lap water.' So back he went, and as there were many trees near the tank, some of whose roots went beneath the water, the crocodile lay in ambush there. By and by the jackal came to drink water, and the crocodile made a sudden snap at his leg, and held it. 'Oh, you foolish crocodile!' the jackal said, 'you think you have got hold of my leg, do you? But it is only the root of a tree.' Hearing this, the crocodile released his hold, and the jackal jumped off in high glee out of his reach. The crocodile then determined that he would try some other plan of entrapping him. So, as there were great numbers of a small fruit falling from one of the trees, which he knew the jackal came to eat, he one night piled up a heap and hid himself beneath it, leaving only his eyes uncovered. Presently the jackal came prowling along, and noticing the pile of fruit he felt inclined to partake of some, but he drew near very cautiously, and in a moment he caught sight of the two eyes of the crocodile glistening in the moonlight, when he called out, 'Oh, I see you!' and scampered off. After this, the crocodile saw that it was no use to try himself to catch the jackal, 'for,' said he, 'he is too cunning for me. I must employ someone who comes to get water here.' So one day he saw a farmer, and said to him, 'If you will catch a jackal for me, I will make you a rich man, for I will give you several jewels which people have dropped in this tank for years and years, and they are lying here at the bottom.' 'Oh!' replied the farmer, 'that is easily done.' So that very night he went into the jungle and lay down as if dead. Presently the jackal made his appearance, and smelling along he came close up to the body. Then he hesitated and said, 'I wonder if this is really a dead body or not.' He then called out audibly, 'If it is really dead it will shake its leg, and if it is alive it won't do so.' This he said so quickly and so artfully that the farmer was taken aback, and to make him believe he was dead he at once stupidly shook his leg, and off skipped the jackal, saying, 'I caught you there,' and was lost to view in an instant. The farmer, who was very avaricious, and wanted the jewels badly, made up his mind that he would by hook or by crook make sure of the jackal on the next occasion. So this time he prepared of the softest wax a doll the size of a child, and digging a small grave and covering it over with leaves and mud, he waited in hiding to see the result. Shortly after sunset the jackal began to prowl about as usual, and coming on the new grave he said to himself, 'Ah! This is someone lately buried. I will try my luck here.' He then began to scratch with his paw, and presently one paw got caught in the wax, and in trying to get that away, all four became stuck with the wax, when in a moment out came the farmer from his hiding place and said, 'Ah! At last I have got you, and you are my prisoner!' The jackal yelled and howled, and endeavored to escape, but was hindered by the wax on his feet. So then he took to frightening the farmer, and said, 'If you do not get me out of this scrape I will call all the jackals in a moment of time, and they will destroy you forever, for do you not know that I am the king of the jackals?' 'What am I to do?' asked the farmer. 'Go!' he said. 'Go and get some oil, and rub it all over me. Then get a fowl, and tie it about fifty yards away, and bring two men with hatchets to stand over me, so that if I attempt to get away they may chop me to pieces!' This being done by the farmer, the jackal while being held in his hands sought his opportunity, and being well greased all over, he made a violent spring and so got clear of the farmer. Then he dashed between the legs of the men with hatchets, when they made a plunge at him, but they only succeeded in hurting their own legs. So the jackal got finally off, and picking up the fowl, he was soon lost to view, and so won the day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The Ingrates,Italy,"The concluding episode, in which the fox is given dogs in a sack instead of the agreed upon hens, is classified as Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 154. Link to additional tales of type 154.","Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 38, pp. 150-51.","There was once a man who went into the forest to gather wood, and saw a snake crushed under a large stone. He raised the stone a little with the handle of his axe, and the snake crawled out. When it was at liberty, it said to the man, 'I am going to eat you.' The man answered, 'Softly. First let us hear the judgment of someone, and if I am condemned, then you shall eat me.' The first one they met was a horse as thin as a stick, tied to an oak tree. He had eaten the leaves as far as he could reach, for he was famished. The snake said to him, 'Is it right for me to eat this man who has saved my life?' The nag answered, 'More than right. Just look at me! I was one of the finest horses. I have carried my master so many years, and what have I gained? Now that I am so badly off that I can no longer work they have tied me to this oak, and after I have eaten these few leaves I shall die of hunger. Eat the man, then. For he who does good is ill rewarded, and he who does evil must be well rewarded. Eat him, for you will be doing a good day's work.' They afterwards happened to find a mulberry tree, all holes, for it was eaten by old age. And the snake asked it if it was right to eat the man who had saved its life. 'Yes,' the tree answered at once, 'for I have given my master so many leaves that he has raised from them the finest silkworms in the world. Now that I can no longer stand upright, he has said that he is going to throw me into the fire. Eat him, then, for you will do well.' Afterwards they met the fox. The man took her aside and begged her to pronounce in his favor. The fox said, 'The better to render judgment I must see just how the matter has happened.' They all returned to the spot and arranged matters as they were at first. But as soon as the man saw the snake under the stone he cried out, 'Where you are, there I will leave you.' And there the snake remained. The fox wished in payment a bag of hens, and the man promised them to her for the next morning. The fox went there in the morning, and when the man saw her he put some dogs in the bag, and told the fox not to eat the hens close by, for fear the mistress of the house would hear it. So the fox did not open the bag until she had reached a distant valley. Then the dogs came out and ate her. And so it is in the world. For who does good is ill rewarded, and who does evil is well rewarded.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The Jackal's Judgment,Sri Lanka,Retold by D. L. Ashliman. Parker's translation follows his Sinhalese sources so closely that English syntax is violated in almost every sentence. I have cautiously attempted to bring his narrative closer to idiomatic English.,"H. Parker, Village Folk-Tales of Ceylon, vol. 1 (London: Luzac and Company, 1910), no. 63, pp. 339-40.","A crocodile made his burrow in the embankment of a tank near a village. Afterwards the mud dried and became hard, so the crocodile was unable to get out of the hole. He was going to die. A man passed by on his was to fetch a midwife to attend to his wife. The crocodile heard him and said, 'Save me by breaking up the earth, so that I may get out.' The man broke up the earth and let him out. As there was no water left in the tank, the man placed the crocodile on his shoulder and went to the edge of the river. He then placed the crocodile into the water, but no sooner had he done so than the crocodile seized him by the arm and was about to eat him. 'Why are you going to eat me?' he asked. 'Do you not know how I helped you? And still you are going to eat me!' The crocodile said, 'It is true, indeed, that you helped me. But I am going to eat you, because I am hungry.' The man said, 'It is good. You may eat me, but first let as ask two or three persons as witnesses.' So they went to ask the witnesses about it. They came to a kumbuk tree, and the man said to it, 'This crocodile is going to eat me. I am asking your opinion of it.' 'What is it all about?' The man said, 'This crocodile was going to die. I saved him. Now he is going to eat me. Is that right?' The kumbuk tree said, 'O crocodile, do not let that man go. There is no animal so wicked as that man. He stays near a tree in its shade, then he breaks off its bark and leaves and takes them away. In the end he cuts it down and takes the whole tree.' From there he went and asked a cow, 'O cow, I saved this crocodile from death. He is now going to eat me. Do you think that is right?' The cow said, 'O crocodile, do not let that man go. That man is a wicked man. He takes our milk, and in the end he kills and eats us. Do not let him go.' After that he asked a jackal about it. The jackal asked, 'What is it all about?' He said to the jackal, 'O jackal, I saved this crocodile instead of letting him die. Now he is going to eat me.' The jackal said, 'I cannot give you a decision without knowing the whole story. You must show me the whole affair from the beginning.' So the man placed the crocodile on his shoulder and carried him back to his home. He put it back in its burrow and packed the soil in around him. The jackal said, 'Don't be afraid. I am on your side.' Then the man said, 'Jackal, hear this case.' The jackal said, 'I am both the judge and the witness. Now take up a cudgel and beat him until he is dead. I saw your excellence and his wickedness.' Retold by D. L. Ashliman. Parker's translation follows his Sinhalese sentence. I have cautiously attempted to bring his narrative closer to idiomatic English.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,"The Lion, the Horse, and the Fox",Italy,NA,"Laura Gonzenbach, 'Vom Löwen, Pferd und Fuchs,' Sicilianische Märchen, aus dem Volksmund gesammelt (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1870), vol. 2, no. 69, pp. 77-78.","'I'll do that,' answered the horse, 'but you must promise not to eat me.' The lion promised, and the horse dug with his hooves until he had freed the lion. However, as soon as the lion saw that he was free, he said, 'Now I am going to eat you.' 'What were the conditions?' said the horse. 'Did we not agree that you would not eat me?' 'That makes no difference now,' shouted the lion. 'But if you want to, we can go before a judge.' 'Good,' replied the horse. 'But whom shall we choose?' 'The fox,' said the lion. The horse agreed to this, so they went to the fox, and the lion presented him with the question. 'Yes,' answered the fox, 'it seems to me that you must be right, Mr. Lion, but I cannot finalize my judgment until I have seen how the two of you were standing.' So all three of them went to the rocky cleft, and the horse positioned himself in the same place he had stood. Then the fox told the lion to force himself back into the cleft. 'Is that how you were standing?' he asked. 'This leg was a little more twisted,' answered the lion. 'Then push yourself in a little more tightly. You must be in exactly the same position as you were when you asked the horse for help.' The lion pushed himself in a little more, and the fox asked again, 'Is that exactly how you were standing?' 'This front leg was a little further inside.' 'Then push yourself in still a little more.' Finally the lion had pushed himself in so tightly that he could not get out again. 'So,' said the fox. 'now you are exactly where you were before. Now the horse can decide whether he will help you out again.' The horse, however, did not want to do so, but instead threw stones at the lion until he was dead. Yes, indeed, the fox is sly!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,"The Man, the Serpent, and the Fox",Greece,"Crane's source: Giuseppe Morosi, Studi sui Dialetti Greci della Terra d'Otranto: Preceduto da una raccolta di Canti, Leggende, Proverbi, e Indovinelli (Lecce: Tip. Editrice Salentina, 1870), p. 75.","Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 49, p. 354.","There was once a huntsman, who, in passing a quarry, found a serpent under a large stone. The serpent asked the hunter to liberate him, but the latter said, 'I will not free you, for you will eat me.' The serpent replied, 'Liberate me, for I will not eat you.' When the hunter had set the serpent at liberty, the latter wanted to devour him, but the hunter said, 'What are you doing? Did you not promise me that you would not eat me?' The serpent replied that hunger did not observe promises. The hunter then said, 'If you have no right to eat me, will you do it?' 'No,' answered the serpent. 'Let us go, then,' said the hunter, 'and ask three times.' They went into the woods and found a greyhound, and asked him, and he replied, 'I had a master, and I went hunting and caught hares, and when I carried them home my master had nothing too good to give me to eat. No, when I cannot overtake even a tortoise, because I am old, my master wishes to kill me. For this reason I condemn you to be eaten by the serpent, for he who does good finds evil.' 'Do you hear? We have one judge,' said the serpent. They continued their journey, and found a horse, and asked him, and he too replied that the serpent was right to eat the man, 'for,' he said, 'I had a master who fed me when I could travel. Now that I can do so no longer, he would like to hang me.' The serpent said, 'Behold, two judges!' They went on and found a fox. The huntsman said, 'Fox, you must aid me. Listen: I was passing quarry and found this serpent dying under a large stone, and he asked aid from me, and I released him, and now he wants to eat me.' The fox answered, 'I will be the judge. Let us return to the quarry to see how the serpent was.' They went there and put the stone on the serpent, and the fox asked, 'Is that the way you were?' 'Yes,' answered the serpent. 'Very well then, stay so always!' said the fox.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,"The Peasant, the Snake, and King Solomon",Romania,NA,"M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 112, pp. 325-26.","Once upon a time, when King Solomon the wise ruled over the people, some shepherds gathered under a tree and lit a fire, not for any special reason, but just to pass their time, as they often do. When they left, they did not take care to put the fire out. It was left burning under the ashes. Spreading slowly, it caught the great tree, which soon afterwards became a mass of living flames. A snake had crept onto that tree before and found itself now in danger of perishing in the flames. Creeping upwards to the very top of the tree, the snake cried as loud as it could, for she felt her skin scorched by the fire. At that moment a man passed by, and hearing the shrieking of the snake, who begged him to save her from the flames, he took pity on her, and cutting a long stick, he reached with it up to the top of the tree for the snake to glide down on it. But he did not know the mind of the cunning beast, which had aforetime deceived his forefather Adam, for, instead of gliding down to the ground, no sooner did the snake reach the neck of the good man than she coiled herself round and round his neck. In vain did he remind her that he had saved her life. She would not hear of anything, for she said, 'My skin is dearer to me than to you, and I remain where I am. You cannot shake me off.' Finding that he could not get rid of the snake, the man went from judge to judge, from king to king, to decide between them, but no one could help him. At last, hearing of the wisdom of King Solomon, he came to him and laid his case before him. But King Solomon said, 'I am not going to judge between you unless you both first promise to abide by my word.' Both did so. Turning to the snake, King Solomon then said, 'You must uncoil yourself and get down on the earth, for I cannot judge fairly between one who is standing on the ground and one who is riding.' Cunning though the snake may be, she did not understand the wisdom of King Solomon, and therefore, uncoiling herself, she glided down and rested on the ground. Turning to the man, King Solomon said, 'Do you not know that you must never trust a snake?' The man at once understood what the king meant, and taking up a stone, he bruised the snake's head. And thus justice was done.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The Reward of Good Deeds,Denmark,"The concluding episode, in which the fox is given fierce dogs in a sack instead of the agreed upon geese, is classified as Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 154. Link to additional tales of type 154.","Sven Grundtvig, Danish Fairy Tales, translated by J. Grant Cramer (Boston: Richard G. Badger, The Gorham Press, 1912), pp. 119-22.","There was once a man who went into the woods to cut some firewood. He went from one tree to another, but they were all too good for his purpose, as they would make good timber if allowed to stand. At last he found a tree which seemed good for nothing; it was gnarled and partly decayed, so he began to hew away at it. But just as he began to cut, he heard a voice calling to him, 'Help me out, my good man.' And as he turned he saw a large viper that was caught in a cleft of the tree and could not free itself. 'No, I will not help you,' said the man, 'for you would harm me.' But the viper said that it would not hurt him, if he would only free it. Then the man put his axe into the cleft under the snake, and so freed it. But hardly was it free, when it coiled itself up, hissed, put out its tongue and prepared to strike him. 'Did I not tell you,' said the man, 'that you were a rascal who would reward good with evil!' 'Yes,' answered the viper, 'you may well say that; but so it is in the world, that all good deeds are rewarded with evil.' 'That is not true,' said the man, 'good deeds are rewarded with good.' 'You will not find anybody to agree with you there,' said the viper. 'I know better how it goes in the world.' 'Let us inquire about it,' said the man. 'Very well,' said the viper. So it did not bite him, but went with him through the forest until they came to an old, worn out horse that was grazing. It was lame, and blind in one eye, and had only a few broken teeth in its mouth. They asked him whether good deeds were rewarded with good, or with evil. 'They are rewarded with evil,' said the horse. 'For twenty years I have served my master faithfully; I have carried him on my back, and drawn his wagon, and have taken care not to stumble lest he fall. As long as I was young and strong, I had kind treatment; I had a good stall, and plenty of food, and was well curried. But now that I am old and weak, I must work in the treadmill the livelong day; I never have a roof to cover me, and all the food I have is what I get for myself. No, indeed, good deeds are rewarded only with evil.' 'There now, you hear,' said the viper, 'Now I shall bite you.' 'Oh, no! wait a moment,' said the man, 'there comes the fox; let us ask him for his opinion.' The fox came up and stopped and looked at them, for he saw that the man was in serious trouble. Then the viper asked the fox whether good deeds were rewarded with evil or with good. 'Say 'with good,'' whispered the man, 'and I will give you two fat geese.' Then the fox said, 'Good deeds are rewarded with good,' and as he said that he jumped on the viper and bit its neck so that it fell to the ground. But as it was dying it insisted, 'No, good deeds are rewarded with evil; that I have experienced, I, who spared the man's life, who has now cheated me out of mine.' Now the viper was dead and the man was free. Then he said to the fox, 'Come home with me and get your geese.' 'No, I thank you,' said the fox, 'I will not go to town, for there the dogs would get me.' 'Then wait here until I come with the geese,' said the man. He ran home and said to his wife, 'Hasten and put two fat geese into a sack, for I have promised them to the fox for his breakfast today.' The woman took a sack and put something into it; but it was not geese she put in, but two fierce dogs. The man then ran out with the bag to the fox, and said, 'Here you have your reward.' 'Thank you,' said the fox, 'then it was not a lie after all, what I said first -- that good deeds are rewarded with good.' Then taking the bag on his back he ran off into the woods. 'That sack is heavy,' said the fox, so he sat down and tore it open with his sharp teeth. But as he did so the two dogs leaped from the bag and fixed their teeth in his throat. There was no escape from them, so he was bitten to death, but not until he had said, 'No, what I said first was a lie, after all; good deeds are rewarded with evil.' Grant Cramer (Boston: Richard G. Badger, The Gorham Press, 1912), pp. 119-22. sack instead of the agreed upon geese, is classified as",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The Reward of Kindness,Finland,NA,"Parker Fillmore, Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy and Folk Tales (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1922), pp. 301-305.","Osmo, the bear, used to go day after day to a field of growing rye and eat as much as he wanted. The farmer noticed from the bear's tracks that he always came by the same route. 'I'll teach that bear a lesson!' the farmer thought to himself. So he set a snare made of a strong net and carefully covered it over with leaves and branches. That day Osmo, when he came as usual to the field, got entangled in the net and was unable to escape. The farmer when he came and found him securely caught was overjoyed. 'Now, you brute!' he said, 'I've got you and I'm going to kill you!' 'Oh, master, don't do that!' the bear implored. 'Don't kill me!' 'Why shouldn't I kill you?' the farmer asked. 'Aren't you destroying my rye?' 'Let me off this time!' Osmo begged, 'and I'll reward you! I swear I will!' He begged and begged until at last he prevailed upon the farmer to open the net and let him out. 'Now then,' the farmer said as soon as the bear was freed, 'how are you going to reward me?' Osmo put a heavy paw on the farmer's shoulder. 'This is how I'm going to reward you,' he said: 'I'm going to eat you up !' 'What!' the farmer exclaimed. 'Is that your idea of a reward for kindness?' 'Exactly!' Osmo declared. 'In this world that is the reward kindness always gets! Ask anyone!' 'I don't believe it! I don't believe it!' the farmer cried. 'Very well. I'll prove to you that I'm right. We'll ask the first person we meet.' The first person they met was an old horse. They put their case to him. 'The bear is right,' the old horse said. 'Look at me. For thirty years I gave my master faithful service and just this morning I heard him say, 'It's time we killed that old plug! He's no good for work any more and he's only eating his head off!'' The bear squinted his little eyes. 'You see!' 'No, I don't see!' the farmer insisted. 'We must ask someone else.' They walked on a little farther until they met an old dog. They put their case to him and at once the dog said, 'The bear is right! Look at me. I gave my master a life time of faithful service and just this morning I overheard him say: 'It's time we killed that old dog!' Alas, alas, in this wicked world goodness is always so rewarded!' But still the farmer was unsatisfied and to humor him Osmo said that he was willing that they should put their case once more to the judgment of an outsider. The next person they met was Mikko, the fox. Mikko listened carefully and then drawing the farmer aside he whispered, 'If I give judgment in your favor will you let me carry off all the chickens in your henhouse?' 'Indeed I will!' the farmer promised. Then Mikko cleared his throat importantly and said, 'H'm! H'm! To give fair judgment in this case I must go over all the ground. First show me the field of rye and the damage Osmo did.' So they went to the field and the fox, after he had appraised the damage, shook his head seriously. 'It was certainly wicked of Osmo eating all that rye!... Now show me the net.' So they went to the snare and the fox examined it carefully. 'You say the bear got entangled in this snare. I want to see just how he did it.' Osmo showed just how he had been caught. 'Get all the way in,' the fox said. 'I want to make sure that you couldn't possibly get out unaided.' So the bear entangled himself again in the net and proved that he couldn't possibly get out unaided. 'Well,' said Mikko, the rascal, 'you deserved to get caught the first time and now that you're in there again you can just stay there! Come on, Mr. Farmer.' So Mikko and the farmer went off leaving Osmo to his fate. That night the fox went to the farmer's henhouse to claim his reward. When he came in the chickens, of course, set up an awful squawking that aroused the family. The farmer stayed in bed but he sent his wife out with a stout club. 'It sounds to me,' he said, 'as if some rascally fox is trying to steal our hens. If you catch him, don't be gentle with him!' 'Gentle!' repeated the wife significantly. She hurried out to the henhouse and when she found Mikko inside she gave him an awful beating. In fact he barely escaped with his life. 'Ah!' he said to himself as he limped painfully home, 'to think that this is the reward my kindness has received! Oh, what a wicked, wicked world this is!' Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy and Folk Tales (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1922), pp. 301-305.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The Snake's Thanks,Jewish,"Friedlander's source: 'Chap-Book, ed. Rodelheim, f. 43b.'","Gerald FriedlanderThe Jewish Fairy Book (New York: Frederick A. Stokes, 1920), no. 15, pp. 137-44.","The following story was told at the court of David, King of Israel. It happened in those good times that an old man was walking along the road on a bitterly cold winter's day. He was feeble and had to support his old body upon a thick stick. On the side of the road he saw a snake, frozen with the cold. He felt very sorry to see one of God's creatures in pain. He went up to it and saw its eyes open and close. 'Poor thing,' said he, 'it will soon die if it remain here much longer. Do we not read in God's Holy Bible that we must be merciful to all things which he has made? I will pick up the poor snake and try to revive it.' He hastened to take it up, and in order to give it a little warmth he put it under his coat close to his chest. It did not take very many minutes to warm it. The man was soon aware of the snake's recovery, for it began to coil its slimy body around him. Its pressure became gradually greater and greater till the man cried out in alarm: 'Hold on! What art thou doing? Why dost thou squeeze me to death? Had it not been for my kindness and sympathy thou wouldst by now have perished on the roadside. When I picked thee up thou wast almost frozen to death. I have given thee back thy life and in return thou seekest to kill me. Is it right to return evil for good? Is this thy way of thanking those who help thee?' 'Thou art a very nice old man. But thou dost not seem to remember what I am. Tell me that first.' 'Thou art a snake.' 'Exactly. I am therefore quite in order in killing thee and any man. Snakes are made to kill the children of men.' 'Come, Master Snake. Let us put our case before a judge and let us hear what he has to say.' 'Very well, I agree to do this. Before whom shall we state our case?' 'Before the first creature that we meet on the road.' On and on they went till at last they saw an ox coming along. The old man was pleased and called out: 'Please, Master Ox, oblige this snake on my neck and me by standing here for a few minutes.' 'What do ye want?' 'We wish thee to judge between us.' 'What's the matter?' 'I found this snake perishing with cold. To save its life I put it on my chest under my coat.' 'That was indeed most kind,' said the ox. 'I then found that as soon as the snake revived it wanted to strangle me. Please decide whether that was right, and if not, kindly order the snake to release its hold on me and to depart in peace.' 'Now, Master Snake, what hast thou to say for thyself?' 'Yes, I admit that this good man speaks the truth. But I am quite right in trying to kill him.' 'How so?' 'Because it is written in God's book: I will put hatred between mankind and the serpent.' 'Now,' said the ox, 'I have duly heard both sides. I find that the snake is in the right. It makes no difference that thou hast done it a good service and in return it kills thee. The world always returns evil for good. That is the way of life as far as I know it. Just see how I fare at the hands of my master. I work for him in his field from sunrise to sunset. At night I am shut up in a cold shed with a little hay and some oats for my food. My master sits in his cozy room with a lovely bright fire to warm him. He has a nice supper of fine fish and good meat. He even drinks sweet wine whereas I only get cold water. He sleeps in a clean soft bed whilst I have not even a coverlet over my back. In a year or two when I am no longer able to work in the field he will sell me to the butcher who will kill me.' These words grieved the poor old man very much. 'I am not satisfied with this judge,' he cried aloud. Leaving the ox behind he went on his way with the snake coiled around his neck. 'Let us try again, if it please thee,' said the snake. 'We will ask the next creature that we meet. I am sure I will win the case.' 'Wait and see, Master Snake. Ah! here comes thy friend the ass. We will ask him to be the judge.' 'By all means.' They both told their story in turn to the ass, just as they had told the ox. The ass also quoted the same words of the Bible as the ox. After a long tale of his own sorrows at the hands of ungrateful man, the ass decided that the snake was in the right. 'See!' cried the snake, 'Did I not say that I should win? I shall now kill thee and know that I am doing the right thing.' 'Stay, Master Snake, let us be fair. We have asked two animals to judge between us. Let us also put the case before a man. It is natural that animals should judge in thy favor, for they are thy kinsmen. Come before David, King of Israel. He is a good man and will speak as is right.' 'Very good, I agree.' When they came before the king, he listened very attentively to both of them. Turning to the old man, David said: 'Why hast thou not kept the Holy Law! It tells us that God has put hatred between thee and the serpent. Thou hast forgotten this, and now I fear I cannot help thee.' 'Ah!' cried the snake in a spiteful voice, 'I am in the right.' The poor man left the king's presence with a very sad heart, for the snake was beginning to squeeze him more tightly than ever. He had now given up all hope. He feared that the snake would kill him before nightfall. On and on he wandered with a heavy step, leaning heavily on his stick. At last he felt so wretched that he sat down by the side of a well saying to himself, 'I will die here, and the snake may fall into the well and get drowned.' He saw a handsome lad near by who came running up to him and said: 'Peace be unto thee.' 'Peace be also unto thee, my son.' 'What aileth thee, for thy face is as white as a sheet!' 'I am nigh unto death.' 'Can I fetch thee a little water!' 'Nay, dear son, many thanks. I have just left King David. Alas! he cannot save my life, and I must die.' 'Tell me thy trouble. Perhaps I can help thee.' The old man then told him all about the snake and showed him how it had entwined itself around his neck. 'Just wait here for a few minutes and then I will go with thee to King David. Thy case shall be retried, and justice will be done. I must just stay a little while here by the well. My stick fell into it, and I told my attendants to dig up the ground yonder where the source of the well lies. This will cause the water in the well to increase. My stick, of course, floats on the surface. As soon as the water rises near the top of the well I can reach it, and as soon as I get it we will go to the King.' This action of the lad seemed very clever in the eyes of the old man. He therefore resolved to return with him to the king. At last they came before David. The lad, who was Solomon, the king's son, fell on his face to the ground. His father told him to rise up. He did so and kissed the king's hand. 'May I speak, dear father?' 'Speak, my son.' 'Why didst thou not decide this man's case in his favor?' 'Because it serves him right to find himself in his present unfortunate state.' 'How so, father dear?' 'Because he did not act according to the teaching of the Holy Law.' 'O father, give me, I beseech thee, permission to sit in judgment in this case.' 'Most gladly will I do so, if thou wilt be able to prove to me that I have not done justice to this unlucky man. Come, beloved son, and sit on my chair of state. I will listen to thy words of wisdom. May the God of my fathers be with thee in judgment!' Solomon sat on his father's chair and began to say to the snake: 'Tell me, why dost thou do evil to one who has dealt kindly with thee?' 'God has commanded me to do so.' 'Where!' 'In his Law.' 'Dost thou agree to abide by the teaching of the Law!' 'Of course I do.' 'Now at once get off this man and stand on the ground even as he does.' 'Why should I?' 'Because the Holy Law demands that those who have a quarrel shall stand before the judge.' [Deuteronomy 19:17] 'I quite agree to do this. Now wilt thou judge between me and this man.' The snake uncoiled its body and placed itself beside the old man. Solomon then turned to the old man and said: 'The Holy Law has also a command for thee. It tells thee that thou shalt bruise the serpent's head. Do now according to the word of thy God.' The old man no sooner heard Solomon's words than he raised his stick on which he was leaning and smote the snake a deadly blow on its head. The next second it was dead. King David and his courtiers were astonished at the wonderful wisdom of Solomon, whose fame soon spread throughout the land. The old man thanked the prince and the king for saving his life and went his way in peace.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,"The Tiger, the Brahman, and the Jackal",India,"Jacobs' source: F. A. Steel and R.C. Temple, Wide-Awake Stories: A Collection of Tales Told by Little Children Between Sunset and Sunrise (Bombay: Education Society's Press; London: Trübner and Company, 1884), pp. 116-20. First published in The Indian Antiquary: A Journal of Oriental Research, vol. 12 (1883), pp. 176-77.","Joseph Jacobs, Indian Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1892), no. 9, pp. 66-69.","Once upon a time, a tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed. By chance a poor Brahman came by. 'Let me out of this cage, oh pious one!' cried the tiger. 'Nay, my friend,' replied the Brahman mildly, 'you would probably eat me if I did.' 'Not at all!' swore the tiger with many oaths. 'On the contrary, I should be for ever grateful, and serve you as a slave!' Now when the tiger sobbed and sighed and wept and swore, the pious Brahman's heart softened, and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried, 'What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!' In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life. The most he could gain was a promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the tiger's action. So the Brahman first asked a pipal tree what it thought of the matter, but the pipal tree replied coldly, 'What have you to complain about? Don't I give shade and shelter to everyone who passes by, and don't they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don't whimper. Be a man!' Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went further afield till he saw a buffalo turning a well wheel. But he fared no better from it, for it answered, 'You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! Whilst I gave milk they fed me on cotton seed and oil cake, but now I am dry they yoke me here and give me refuse as fodder!' The Brahman, still more sad, asked the road to give him its opinion. 'My dear sir,' said the road, 'how foolish you are to expect anything else! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!' On this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a jackal, who called out, 'Why, what's the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish out of water!' The Brahman told him all that had occurred. 'How very confusing!' said the jackal, when the recital was ended. 'Would you mind telling me over again, for everything has got so mixed up?' The Brahman told it all over again, but the jackal shook his head in a distracted sort of way, and still could not understand. 'It's very odd,' said he, sadly, 'but it all seems to go in at one ear and out at the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment.' So they returned to the cage, by which the tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws. 'You've been away a long time!' growled the savage beast, 'but now let us begin our dinner.' 'Our dinner!' thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked together with fright. 'What a remarkably delicate way of putting it!' 'Give me five minutes, my lord!' he pleaded, 'in order that I may explain matters to the jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits.' The tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again, not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible. 'Oh, my poor brain! Oh, my poor brain!' cried the jackal, wringing its paws. 'Let me see! How did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the tiger cam walking by --' 'Pooh!' interrupted the tiger, 'what a fool you are! I was in the cage.' 'Of course!' cried the jackal, pretending to tremble with fright. 'Yes! I was in the cage -- no I wasn't -- dear! dear! where are my wits? Let me see -- the tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by -- no, that's not it, either! Well, don't mind me, but begin your dinner, for I shall never understand!' 'Yes, you shall!' returned the tiger, in a rage at the jackal's stupidity. 'I'll make you understand! Look here -- I am the tiger --' 'Yes, my lord!' 'And that is the Brahman --' 'Yes, my lord!' 'And that is the cage --' 'Yes, my lord!' 'And I was in the cage. Do you understand?' 'Yes -- no -- please, my lord --' 'Well?' cried the tiger impatiently. 'Please, my lord! How did you get in?' 'How! Why in the usual way, of course!' 'Oh, dear me! -- My head is beginning to whirl again! Please don't be angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?' At this the tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried, 'This way! Now do you understand how it was?' 'Perfectly!' grinned the jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, 'and if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they were!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The Unmannerly Tiger,Korea,NA,"William Elliot Griffis, The Unmannerly Tiger, and Other Korean Tales (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co., 1911), pp. 1-6.","'Mountain Uncle' was the name given by the villagers to a splendid striped tiger that lived among the highlands of Kang Wen, the long province that from its cliffs overlooks the Sea of Japan. Hunters rarely saw him, and among his fellow tigers the Mountain Uncle boasted that, though often fired at, he had never been wounded; while as for traps -- he knew all about them and laughed at the devices used by man to catch him and to strip him of his coveted skin. In summer he kept among the high hills and lived on fat deer. In winter, when heavy snow, biting winds, and terrible cold kept human beings within doors, old Mountain Uncle would sally forth to the villages. There he would prowl around the stables, the cattle enclosures, or the pigpens, in hopes of clawing and dragging out a young donkey, a fat calf, or a suckling pig. Too often he succeeded, so that he was the terror of the country for leagues around. One day in autumn, Mountain Uncle was rambling among the lower hills. Though far from any village, he kept a sharp lookout for traps and hunters, but none seemed to be near. He was very hungry and hoped for game. But on coming round a great rock, Mountain Uncle suddenly saw in his path some feet ahead, as he thought, a big tiger like himself. He stopped, twitched his tail most ferociously as a challenge, showed fight by growling, and got ready to spring. What was his surprise to see the other tiger doing exactly the same things. Mountain Uncle was sure that there would be a terrible struggle, but this was just what he wanted, for he expected of course to win. But after a tremendous leap in the air, he landed in a pit and all of a heap, bruised and disappointed. There was no tiger to be seen, but instead a heavy lid of logs had closed over his head with a crash and he lay in darkness. Old Mountain Uncle at last was caught. Yes, the hunter had concealed the pit with sticks and leaves, and on the upright timbers, covered with vines and brushwood, had hung a bit of looking-glass. Mountain Uncle had often beheld his own face and body in the water, when he stooped to drink, but this time, not seeing any water, he was deceived into thinking a real tiger wanted to fight him. By and by a Buddhist priest came along, who believed in being kind to all living creatures. Hearing an animal moaning, he opened the trap and lifting the lid saw old Mountain Uncle at the bottom licking his bruised paw. 'Oh, please, Mr. Man, let me get out. I'm hurt badly,' said the tiger. Thereupon the priest lifted up one of the logs and slid it down, until it rested on the bottom of the pit. Then the tiger climbed up and out. Old Mountain Uncle expressed his thanks volubly, saying to the shaven head, 'I am deeply grateful to you, sir, for helping me out of my trouble. Nevertheless, as I am very hungry, I must eat you up.' The priest, very much surprised and indignant, protested against such vile ingratitude. To say the least, it was very bad manners and entirely against the law of the mountains, and he appealed to a big tree to decide between them. The spirit in the tree spoke through the rustling leaves and declared that the man should go free and that the tiger was both ungrateful and unmannerly. Old Mountain Uncle was not satisfied yet, especially as the priest was unusually fat and would make a very good dinner. However, he allowed the man to appeal once more and this time to a big rock. 'The man is certainly right, Venerable Mountain Uncle, and you are wholly wrong,' said the spirit in the rock. 'Your master, the Mountain Spirit, who rides on the green bull and the piebald horse to punish his enemies, will certainly chastise you if you devour this priest. You will be no fit messenger of the Mountain Lord if you are so ungrateful as to eat the man who saved you from starvation or death in the trap. It is shockingly bad manners even to think of such a thing.' The tiger felt ashamed, but his eyes still glared with hunger; so, to be sure of saving his own skin, the priest proposed to make the toad a judge. The tiger agreed. But the toad, with his gold-rimmed eyes, looked very wise, and instead of answering quickly, as the tree and rock did, deliberated a long time. The priest's heart sank, while the tiger moved his jaws as if anticipating his feast. He felt sure that Old Speckled Back would decide in his favor. 'I must go and see the trap before I can make up my mind,' said the toad, who looked as solemn as a magistrate. So all three leaped, hopped, or walked to the trap. The tiger, moving fast, was there first, which was just what the toad, who was a friend of the priest, wanted. Besides, Old Speckled Back was diligently looking for a crack in the rocks nearby. So, while the toad and the tiger were studying the matter, the priest ran off and saved himself within the monastery gates. When at last Old Speckled Back decided against Mountain Uncle and in favor of the man, he had no sooner finished his judgment than he hopped into the rock crevice, and, crawling far inside, defied the tiger, calling him an unmannerly brute and an ungrateful beast, and daring him to do his worst. Old Mountain Uncle was so mad with rage and hunger that his craftiness seemed turned into stupidity. He clawed at the rock to pull it open to get at the toad to tear him to pieces. But Speckled Back, safe within, only laughed. Unable to do any harm, the tiger flew into a passion of rage. The hotter his temper grew, the more he lost his wit. Poking his nose inside the crack, he rubbed it so hard on the rough rock that he soon bled to death. When the hunter came along, he marveled at what he saw, but he was glad to get rich by selling the tiger's fur, bones, and claws ; for in Korea nothing sells so well as a tiger. As for the toad, he told to several generations of his descendants the story of how he outwitted the old Mountain Uncle. Unmannerly Tiger, and Other Korean Tales (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co., 1911), pp. 1-6.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The World's Reward,Russia,NA,"Jeremiah Curtin, Fairy Tales of Eastern Europe (New York: McBride, Nast and Company, 1914), pp. 24-28.","That minute he heard a cry, and someone called, 'Oh, good man, take pity on me! Roll off the stone and save my life. Free me, and I will pay you as the world pays best!' The peasant rolled the stone away, and out of the hole a great snake crawled, wound himself into a spiral, raised up his head, and said, 'Know, man, that I am Yaza! Get ready, you must die.' The peasant was terribly frightened, and lamenting he reproached the snake with ingratitude. 'Didn't you call for help? Haven't I saved your life?' asked he. 'Of course,' replied the snake, 'but I am only doing what I promised; I am paying you as the world pays best.' After a long discussion the snake agreed to let another settle the dispute, and they went together in search of a judge. After a while they came to where an old dog was tied to a fence. 'How are you, faithful guardian of a house?' asked the peasant. 'As you see,' replied the dog. 'Be so kind as to be our judge; we have a dispute.' And the peasant told the whole story. 'Wasn't it so and so?' asked he, turning to the snake. 'It was,' answered the snake. The dog thought a while, then said to the man, 'My friend, you must die, for this is just how the world pays best. When I was young I was my master's favorite. He wore the skins of the wolves and foxes which I caught; I guarded his house from thieves. My master was fond of me. When offered a carriage and horses he refused to sell me. But now, when I am old and weak and can neither run nor bark, he has led me out here and tied me to the fence to stay till some man kills me for my skin. This is the world's reward.' The peasant, seeing that he had lost his case, begged to look for another judge. The snake consented and they went through forests and across fields till they came to an old half-starved horse. His head was hanging down, his sides had fallen in, and he was covered with flies which he had not strength to drive away. 'How are you, noble beast?' asked the peasant. 'As you see,' replied the horse. The peasant told him the story and begged him to decide for them. The horse listened patiently to the man's complaint, then decided in favor of the snake, saying, 'This is the world's reward. 'When I was young,' said he, 'I had every comfort. When I was led out of the stable every one admired me. I carried my master to war. More than once, by my swiftness, I saved his life and helped him to fame. Two men cared for me; they curried me twice each day and gave me the best of oats and hay. My stable was like a parlor. In summer they covered me with a net that flies might not bite me. My master wouldn't have sold me for a whole village. But when I grew old he starved me, didn't even give me straw to eat. And now he has led me out to this barren field to be killed by the wolves. This is how the world pays best.' 'What more do you want, man?' asked the snake. The peasant begged the snake to let him try a third and last judge. He consented and they went on till at the edge of a forest they saw a fox, running along. 'Oh, Master Fox, wait and be our judge!' called the peasant. 'We have a question to decide.' The fox, a cunning fellow, listened to the story, then winked to the peasant, and whispered, aside, 'If you will give me all of your hens I will help you out of your trouble.' 'What are hens!' said the man. 'I will give you the geese too, and if need be all I have in the world.' The fox, pretending to be an impartial judge, said, 'This is an important case: one of life and death. The first who judged, judged lightly. In justice the case can only be decided on the spot where everything took place. We will go there.' When they came to the place, the fox said, 'We must begin at the beginning. Do you, man, sit down on the stone, and you, snake, crawl into the hole where you were lying.' When they had done as he told them, and the snake was back in the hole, he winked at the man, and said, 'Roll the stone over, quickly.' The peasant didn't wait to be told twice. When the hole was covered, and the snake couldn't get out, the peasant thanked the fox for salvation from death. The fox answered, 'But do not forget that I have earned the hens. Tomorrow before daylight, I will come for my breakfast.' The peasant went home as delighted as if he had been born a second time. He told his wife what had happened, praised the wisdom of the fox, and added that he had promised him all the hens, and that the next morning he would come for them. The woman was glad that her husband was saved, but she was very sorry to lose her hens. The next morning, early, she went to the window and seeing a fox in the yard she called to her husband, 'Do you hear, old man? There is a fox in the yard!' 'Oh, that is the fox that saved me. He has come for the hens!' 'Just as if I were crazy enough to give him my hens!' cried the woman. 'The Lord be praised that you are alive; but take the gun and kill the fox. You will get good money for his pelt.' The peasant obeyed his wife. He took the gun and firing from the window killed the fox. Dying, the fox said in a mournful voice, 'This is how the world pays best.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
155,The Young Man and the Snake,Pakistan,NA,"Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment: Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 42, pp. 133-38.","There was once a farmer who was extremely poor. It happened that when his poverty was greatest a son was born to him, and this son was such a lucky child that his father speedily became quite as rich as he was before poor, and obtained a great name over all the country. After a certain time the farmer thought to himself, 'I must get my son betrothed somewhere. I was poor once, but I am now rich, and my son is lucky. It is right that he should be betrothed to the daughter of some rich man like myself.' It was long before he found a suitable match, but at last he betrothed the boy to a girl who lived in a distant town. The ceremony came on, much money was spent, many guests were invited, and much food was given away. In short, the betrothal was splendid. The son had scarcely grown to manhood when the father died, leaving him in the world alone. The parents of his betrothed, when they heard the sad news, felt very sorry for him, and at first they would have brought him to live at their own house. But the mother said, 'He is old enough now to come and take our daughter home with him, so let us send for him that he may do so. No friend like a good wife.' A messenger was accordingly sent off, and the lad, when he received the invitation, dressed himself up in his best, and, mounting his mare, set off. On the way he came to a lonely jungle, in which he saw a mongoose and a snake of enormous dimensions, engaged in deadly combat. He reined up his horse to look on. The mongoose soon began to wear out his adversary, and to inflict such wounds as would have put an end to its life in a short time. Seeing which, the boy considered to himself, 'When two are contending, it is an act of charity to separate them.' So he tried to separate the combatants, but every time he failed, as the mongoose again and again sprang upon his adversary in spite of him. Finding he could not prevail, he drew his sword and dealt the warlike little mongoose his death-blow. After this he went on again, but he had not proceeded far when he found that the snake had rushed round and intercepted him. Then began the boy to remonstrate. 'I did you good service,' said he. 'Why, then, have you pursued me?' 'It is true,' answered the snake, 'that you saved me from my enemy. But I shall not let you go. I shall eat you.' 'Surely,' replied the lad, 'one good turn deserves another. Will you injure me because I assisted you? In my country we do not deal with each other thus.' 'In these parts,' said the snake, 'the custom is different. Everyone here observes the rule of returning evil for good.' The boy then began to argue with the snake, but he argued in vain, for the snake was determined to eat him. At last he said, 'Very well, snake, you can eat me. But first give me eight days to go about my business, after which I shall come back.' With this request the snake complied, saying, 'Be it so. In eight days you must return to me.' The snake, which had coiled himself round about the boy's body, now released his hold and suffered him to depart. So he rode on once more and completed his journey. All his friends were very glad to see the young bridegroom, and especially his little wife, and at his father-in-law's house he remained for several days. But as he was always downcast and sad, they asked him, 'Why are you so sorrowful?' For six days they asked in vain. On the seventh they spoke to their daughter, 'Is he angry? What is the matter with him' But she also asked him in vain. When the eight day came, he said, 'Now let me go home.' The father and mother then gave the daughter her portion, and, having placed them both in a bullock cart, they sent the young couple away. So the two traveled until they had left the village far behind them. Then said the lad to his wife and to her servants, 'Return now back again to your own home. As for me, it is decreed that I shall die on the way.' All the servants, being alarmed, at once returned, but his young wife said, 'Where you fall, I shall fall. What am I to do at my house?' So she continued to accompany her husband. When he arrived at the spot appointed, he dismounted from his horse and called forth the snake. 'I have come,' said he, 'in accordance with my promise. If you wish to eat me, come and eat me now!' His wife, hearing his ominous words, descended also, and came and stood by her husband's side. By and by a dreadful hissing sound was heard, and the snake crawled out from the jungle, and was preparing to devour the unfortunate boy, when the girl exclaimed, 'Why are you going to eat this poor youth?' The snake then told her the whole story, how he was fighting with a mongoose, and how her husband interfered and killed his adversary. 'And in this country,' continued he, 'our custom is to return evil for good!' The young wife now tried all the arguments she could think of to divert the monster from his purpose, but he was deaf to her pleadings and refused to listen to them. Then said she, 'You say that in this country people do evil in return for good. This is so strange a custom, and so very unreasonable, that I would fain know the history of it. How did it all come about?' 'Do you see those five talli trees?' answered the snake. Go you to them and cry out to them, 'What is the reason that in this country folks do evil in return for good?' and see what they will say to you!' The girl went and did as she was bidden, addressing her request to the middle of the five. The tree straightway answered her: Count us! We are now five, but once we were six -- three pairs. The sixth tree was hollow, having a vast cavity in its trunk. It happened once upon a time, many years ago, that a certain thief went and robbed a house, and that the people followed him. He ran and ran and ran, and at last he came in among us. It was night, but the moon was shining, and the thief hid himself in the hollow talli tree. Hearing his pursuers close at hand, he besought the tree, saying, 'O tree, tree, save me!' When the talli tree heard his miserable cry it closed up its old sides upon him, and hid him in a safe embrace, so that the people searched for him in vain, and they had to return without him. When all pursuit was over, the tree once more opened and let him go. Now, in this old talli tree there was sandal wood, and the thief, when he went forth, had the scent of sandal wood so permanently fixed upon him that wherever he was, and wherever he appeared, he diffused a delightful fragrance. It so happened that he visited the city of a certain king, and a man passing him on the road suddenly stopped, and asked him, 'Where did you get this beautiful scent?' 'You are mistaken,' answered the thief. 'I have no scent.' 'If you will give me this scent,' said the man, 'I will pay you its value.' Again the thief answered, 'I have no scent -- none.' Then the man, who was shrewd and intelligent, went his way to the king and told him, 'There is a stranger arrived here who possesses a most wonderful scent. To your highness, perhaps, he might be induced to give it up.' The king then ordered the thief into his presence, and said to him, 'Show me the scent you have.' 'I have none,' said he. 'If you will give it up to me quietly,' said the king, 'you shall be rewarded. If not, you shall be put to death.' When the thief heard this he got frightened and said, 'Do not kill me, and I will tell the whole story.' So he told the king how his life was preserved in the heart of the talli tree, and how the scent of sandal wood had never left him since. Then said the king, 'Come along and show me that wonderful tree of which you tell me.' Arriving at this very spot, the king instantly gave orders to his followers to cut the tree down and to carry it to his palace. But when the talli tree heard his order, and when it understood the reason of it, it cried aloud, 'I have saved the life of a man, and for this I am to lose my own life. For the future, therefore, let it be decreed within this jungle that whosoever dares to do good, to him it shall be repaid in evil!' The girl, having heard this doleful story, returned once more to her husband's side. 'Well,' said the snake, 'have you consulted the talli tree? And do you find that our custom here is even as I told you?' She was compelled to admit that it was so. But as the monster advanced to his victim, she wept and said, 'What will become of me? If you must eat my husband, you must begin by eating me!' The snake objected to an arrangement so unreasonable. 'You?' cried he. 'But you have never done me the smallest good. You have not even done me harm. How, then, can I be expected to eat you?' 'But if you kill my husband,' replied she, 'what's left for me? You acknowledge yourself that I have done you no good, and yet you would inflict this injury upon me.' When the snake heard these words he stopped, and began to grow remorseful, especially as she wept more copiously than ever. That the boy must be eaten was certain, but how should he comfort the girl? Wishing to devise something, he crept back to his hole, and in a few minutes he returned with two magic globules or pills. 'Here, foolish woman,' said he, 'take these two pills and swallow them, and you will have two sons to whom you can devote yourself, and who will take good care of you!' The girl accepted the pills, but, with the cunning natural to a woman, said, 'If I take these two pills, doubtless two sons will be born. But what about my good name?' The snake, who knew not that she was already wed, hearing her speech, became exasperated with her. 'Women are preposterous beings,' cried he, and he crept back once more to his hole. This time he brought out two more pills, and when handing them to the disconsolate girl he said, 'Revenge will sweeten your lot. When any of your neighbors revile you on account of your sons, take one of these pills between finger and thumb, hold it over them, rubbing it gently so that some of the powder may fall on them, and immediately you will see them consume away to ashes.' Tying the former pills in her cloth, the girl looked at the other pills incredulously, and then, with a sudden thought, she gently rubbed them over the snake, saying with an innocent air, 'O snake, explain this mystery to me again! Is this the way I am to rub them?' The moment an atom of the magic powder had touched the snake, he was set on fire, and in another instant he was merely a long wavy line of gray dust lying on the ground. Then with a glad face the little wife turned to her husband and said, 'Whosoever does good to anyone, in the end good will be done to him. And whosoever does evil to anyone, in the end evil will be done to him. You did good, and lo! you are rewarded. The snake did evil, and evil befell him. All things help each other. The Almighty brings everything to rights at last.' After this the two went on their way to their own home, where they lived in happiness and contentment for many a year.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
328,Jack and the Bean-Pole,As recorded by Elsie Clews Parsons,"Parsons' source: Mary Smith of Lincoln, Pennsylvania.","Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania,' The Journal of Ameerican Folklore, vol. 30, no. 116 (April - June, 1917), pp. 212-13.","Jack an' his mother lived together, an' they had planted some beans. And it seemed that one bean had strayed off from the rest, an' it grew up right alongside of the house. Their house was right below a hill, and Jack had always wondered what was on top of the hill. So one day Jack climbed a bean-pole to get up to the top of the hill. So, when he had got to the top, he saw a palace, an' he went to this place to see who lived there. So, when he had got there, he found it was a giant's castle, but the giant wasn't at home. But his wife was. Jack was tired and hungry. So he asked the lady to take him in and give him something to eat. So she did so. But she told him not to let her husband catch him there. So, while Jack was eating, the giant came to the door. She told Jack to hide, an' Jack hid in the chest behind the door. So the giant came in. He said: Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishmune. Be he alive or be he dead, Fe, fi, fo, fum! But his wife told him that he didn't, that it was only some mutton that she was cooking. So the giant sat down to eat his supper; and after he had finished eating, he called to his wife, and told her to bring him the wonder-box, which he was supposed to have taken from Jack's father before Jack's father died. So, while the giant was sitting there looking in the box, he fell asleep. An' Jack slipped out of the chest behind the door, an' took the wonder-box home to his mother. So it wasn't very long till Jack made up his mind to make another trip back to the castle of the giant. So, when Jack went back this time, he tried to put on like another poor little boy that was half starved. So he begged entrance at the door of the castle from the wife. And she didn't want to have him in, and she told him about the boy that had took the wonder-box from her husband. So he begged so hard that she left him in, an' she gave him some bread and milk to eat. And again, while Jack was eating, the giant came. And as he came in the door, he said: Fe, fi, fo, fum, And Jack jumped in the salt-cellar. His wife said, 'No, there hasn't been any one here today.' She says, 'I'm only roastin' some pork for your supper.' So, after he ate his supper, the giant sent for his golden hen that lay the golden egg. So his wife went and brought it for him. And while the giant was playing with the egg that the hen had laid, he fell fast asleep. An' Jack carried off the hen and the egg down the beanstalk to where his mother lived. But Jack still thought that he wanted to visit the castle again. So this time, when he went up the beanstalk to the giant's castle, he was in the appearance of a newsboy selling papers. So, while the wife went to get the money to buy a paper, the giant appeared, and Jack hid in the closet. And the giant repeated again: So the wife said, 'No, there hasn't been any one here today.' And after the giant had ate his supper, he called for his harp, the only thing that he had left, an' this was a magic harp. So it commenced to play, an' it played so sweetly that the giant fell fast asleep and commenced to snore. And as the harp stopped playing, Jack came out of the closet, took the harp, and started to the door. But the harp began to play, and it woke the giant up. An' the giant followed Jack out of the door, an' Jack run as fast as he could down the beanstalk, an' the giant started to follow. But as the giant reached the top, Jack cut down the beanstalk with an axe; an' as the giant stepped on, he fell down an' broke his neck. An' Jack and his mother always lived happy afterward with the property of the father which the giant had stolen an' Jack had restored again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
328,Jack and the Beanstalk (Hartland),As recorded by Edwin Sidney Hartland,Hartland's source: 'From a chap book.',"Edwin Sidney Hartland, English Fairy and Other Folk Tales (London: The Walter Scott Publishing Company, n.d. [ca. 1890], pp. 35-46.","There lived a poor widow, whose cottage stood in a country village a long distance from London, for many years. The widow had only a child named Jack, whom she gratified in everything. The consequence of her partiality was that Jack paid little attention to anything she said, and he was heedless and extravagant. His follies were not owing to bad disposition but to his mother never having chided him. As she was not wealthy, and he would not work, she was obliged to support herself and him by selling everything she had. At last nothing remained, only a cow. The widow, with tears in her eyes, could not help reproaching Jack. 'Oh! You wicked boy,' said she. 'By your prodigal course of life you have now brought us both to fall! Heedless, heedless boy! I have not money enough to buy a bit of bread for another day. Nothing remains but my poor cow, and that must be sold, or we must starve!' Jack was in a degree of tenderness for a few minutes, but soon over. And then becoming very hungry for want of food, he teased his poor mother to let him sell the cow, to which at last she reluctantly consented. As he proceeded on his journey he met a butcher, who inquired why he was driving the cow from home. Jack replied he was going to sell it. The butcher had some wonderful beans of different colors in his bag which attracted Jack's notice. This the butcher saw, who, knowing Jack's easy temper, resolved to take advantage of it, and offered all the beans for the cow. The foolish boy thought it a great offer. The bargain was momently struck, and the cow exchanged for a few paltry beans. When Jack hastened home with the beans and told his mother, and showed them to her, she kicked the beans away in a great passion. They flew in all directions, and were extended as far as the garden. Early in the morning Jack arose from his bed, and seeing something strange from the window, he hastened downstairs into the garden, where he soon found that some of the beans had grown in root and sprung up wonderfully. The stalks grew in an immense thickness and had so entwined that they formed a ladder like a chain in view. Looking upwards, he could not descry the top. It seemed to be lost in the clouds. He tried it, discovered it firm and not to be shaken. A new idea immediately struck him. He would climb the beanstalk and see to whence it would lead. Full of this plan, which made him forget even his hunger, Jack hastened to communicate his intention to his mother. He instantly set out, and after climbing for some hours reached the top of the beanstalk, fatigued and almost exhausted. Looking round, he was surprised to find himself in a strange country. It looked to be quite a barren desert. Not a tree, shrub, house, or living creature was to be seen. Jack sat himself pensively upon a block of stone and thought of his mother. His hunger attacked him, and now he appeared sorrowful for his disobedience in climbing the beanstalk against her will, and concluded that he must now die for want of food. However, he walked on, hoping to see a house where he might beg something to eat. Suddenly he observed a beautiful young female at some distance. She was dressed in an elegant manner, and had a small white wand in her hand, on the top of which was a peacock of pure gold. She approached and said, 'I will reveal to you a story your mother dare not. But before I begin, I require a solemn promise on your part to do what I command. I am a fairy, and unless you perform exactly what I direct you to do, you will deprive me of the power to assist you, and there is little doubt but that you will die in the attempt.' Jack was rather frightened at this caution, but promised to follow her directions. As soon as she had concluded she disappeared, leaving Jack to follow his journey. He walked on till after sunset, when to his great joy he espied a large mansion. This pleasant sight revived his drooping spirits. He redoubled his speed and reached it shortly. A well-looking woman stood at the door. He accosted her, begging she would give him a morsel of bread and a night's lodging. She expressed the greatest surprise at seeing him and said it was quite uncommon to see any strange creature near their house, for it was mostly known that her husband was a very cruel and powerful giant, and one that would eat human flesh if he could possibly get it. This account terrified Jack greatly, but still, not forgetting the fairy's protection, he hoped to elude the giant, and therefore he entreated the woman to take him in for one night only and hide him where she thought proper. The good woman at last suffered herself to be persuaded, for her disposition was remarkably compassionate, and at last led him into the house. First they passed an elegant hall, finely furnished. They then proceeded through several spacious rooms, all in the same style of grandeur, but they looked to be quite forsaken and desolate. A long gallery came next. It was very dark, just large enough to show that instead of a wall on each side there was a grating of iron, which parted off a dismal dungeon, for whence issued the groans of several poor victims whom the cruel giant reserved in confinement for his voracious appetite. Poor Jack was in a dreadful fright at witnessing such a horrible scene, which caused him to fear that he would never see his mother, but be captured lastly for the giant's meat. But still he recollected the fairy, and a gleam of hope forced itself into his heart. The good woman then took Jack to a spacious kitchen, where a great fire was kept. She bade him sit down and gave him plenty to eat and drink. In the meantime he had done his meal and enjoyed himself, but was disturbed by a hard knocking at the gate, so loud as to cause the house to shake. Jack was concealed in the oven, and the giant's wife ran to let in her husband. Jack heard him accost her in a voice like thunder, saying, 'Wife! Wife! I smell fresh meat!' 'Oh! My dear,' replied she, 'it is nothing but the people in the dungeon.' The giant seemed to believe her, and at last seated himself by the fireside, whilst the wife prepared supper. By degrees Jack endeavored to look at the monster through a small crevice. He was much surprised to see what an amazing quantity he devoured, and supposed he would never have done eating and drinking. After his supper was ended a very curious hen was brought and placed on the table before him. Jack's curiosity was so great to see what would happen. He observed that it stood quiet before him, and every time the giant said, 'Lay!' the hen laid an egg of solid gold. The giant amused himself a long time with his hen. Meanwhile his wife went to bed At length he fell asleep and snored like the roaring of a cannon. Jack, finding him still asleep at daybreak, crept softly from his hiding place, seized the hen, and ran off with her as fast as his legs could possibly allow him. Jack easily retraced his way to the beanstalk and descended it better quicker than he expected. His mother was overjoyed to see him. 'Now, mother,' said Jack, 'I have brought you home that which will make you rich.' The hen produced as many golden eggs as they desired. They sold them and soon became possessed of as much riches as they wanted. For a few months Jack and his mother lived very happy, but he longed to pay the giant another visit. Early in the morning he again climbed the beanstalk and reached the giant's mansion late in the evening. The woman was at the door as before. Jack told her a pitiful tale and prayed for a night's shelter. She told him that she had admitted a poor hungry boy once before, and the little ingrate had stolen one of the giant's treasures, and ever since that she had been cruelly used. She, however, led him to the kitchen, gave him supper, and put him in a lumber closet. Soon after, the giant came in, took his supper, and ordered his wife to bring down his bags of gold and silver. Jack peeped out of his hiding place and observed the giant counting over his treasures, and after which he carefully put them in bags again, fell asleep, and snored as before. Jack crept quietly from his hiding place and approached the giant, when a little dog under the chair barked furiously. Contrary to his expectation, the giant slept on soundly, and the dog ceased. Jack seized the bags, reached the door in safety, and soon arrived at the bottom of the beanstalk. When he reached his mother's cottage he found it quite deserted. Greatly surprised, he ran into the village, and an old woman directed him to a house, where he found his mother apparently dying. On being informed of our hero's safe return, his mother revived and soon recovered. Jack then presented two bags of gold and silver to her. Her mother discovered that something preyed upon his mind heavily and endeavored to discover the cause, but Jack knew too well what the consequence would be should he discover the cause of his melancholy to her. He did his utmost therefore to conquer the great desire which now forced itself upon him in spite of himself for another journey up the beanstalk. On the longest day Jack arose as soon as it was light, ascended the beanstalk and reached the top with some little trouble. He found the road, journey, etc., the same as on the former occasions. He arrived at the giant's house in the evening and found his wife standing as usual at the door. Jack now appeared a different character, and had disguised himself so completely that she did not appear to have any recollection of him. However, when he begged admittance, he found it very difficult to persuade her. At last he prevailed, was allowed to go in, and was concealed in the copper. When the giant returned, he said, as usual, 'Wife! Wife! I smell fresh meat!' But Jack felt quite composed, as he had said so before, and had soon been satisfied. However, the giant started up suddenly, and notwithstanding all his wife could say, he searched all round the room. Whilst this was going forward, Jack was much terrified, and ready to die with fear, wishing himself at home a thousand times. But when the giant approached the copper and put his hand upon the lid, Jack thought his death was certain. Fortunately the giant ended his search there without moving the lid, and seated himself quietly by the fireside. When the giant's supper was over he commanded his wife to fetch down his harp. Jack peeped under the copper lid, and soon saw the most beautiful one that could be imagined. It was put by the giant on the table, who said, 'Play,' and it instantly played of its own accord. The music was uncommonly fine. Jack was delighted and felt more anxious to get the harp into his possession than either of the former treasures. The giant's soul was not attuned to harmony, and the music soon lulled him into a sound sleep. Now, therefore, was the time to carry off the harp, as the giant appeared to be in a more profound sleep than usual. Jack soon made up his mind, got out of the copper, and seized the harp, which, however, being enchanted by a fairy, called out loudly, 'Master, master!' The giant awoke, stood up, and tried to pursue Jack, but he had drank so much that he could not stand. Jack ran as quick as he could. In a little time the giant recovered sufficiently to walk slowly, or rather to reel after him. Had he been sober, he must have overtaken Jack instantly. But as he then was, Jack contrived to be first at the top of the beanstalk. The giant called to him all the way along the road in a voice like thunder, and was sometimes very near to him. The moment Jack down the beanstalk he called out for a hatchet. One was brought him directly. Just at that instant the giant began to descend, but Jack with his hatchet cut the beanstalk close off at the root, and the giant fell headlong into the garden. The fall instantly killed him. Jack heartily begged his mother's pardon for all the sorrow and affliction he had caused her, promising most faithfully to be dutiful and obedient to her in future. He proved as good as his word and became a pattern of affectionate behavior and attention to his parent.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
328,Jack and the Beanstalk (Jacobs),As recorded by Joseph Jacobs,"Jacobs' source: 'I tell this as it was told me in Australia, somewhere about the year 1860.'","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), no. 13, pp. 59-67.","There was once upon a time a poor widow who had an only son named Jack, and a cow named Milky-White. And all they had to live on was the milk the cow gave every morning, which they carried to the market and sold. But one morning Milky-White gave no milk, and they didn't know what to do. 'What shall we do, what shall we do?' said the widow, wringing her hands. 'Cheer up, mother, I'll go and get work somewhere,' said Jack. 'We've tried that before, and nobody would take you,' said his mother. 'We must sell Milky-White and with the money start a shop, or something.' 'All right, mother,' says Jack. 'It's market day today, and I'll soon sell Milky-White, and then we'll see what we can do.' So he took the cow's halter in his hand, and off he started. He hadn't gone far when he met a funny-looking old man, who said to him, 'Good morning, Jack.' 'Good morning to you,' said Jack, and wondered how he knew his name. 'Well, Jack, and where are you off to?' said the man. 'I'm going to market to sell our cow there.' 'Oh, you look the proper sort of chap to sell cows,' said the man. 'I wonder if you know how many beans make five.' 'Two in each hand and one in your mouth,' says Jack, as sharp as a needle. 'Right you are,' says the man, 'and here they are, the very beans themselves,' he went on, pulling out of his pocket a number of strange-looking beans. 'As you are so sharp,' says he, 'I don't mind doing a swap with you -- your cow for these beans.' 'Go along,' says Jack. 'Wouldn't you like it?' 'Ah! You don't know what these beans are,' said the man. 'If you plant them overnight, by morning they grow right up to the sky.' 'Really?' said Jack. 'You don't say so.' 'Yes, that is so. And if it doesn't turn out to be true you can have your cow back.' 'Right,' says Jack, and hands him over Milky-White's halter and pockets the beans. Back goes Jack home, and as he hadn't gone very far it wasn't dusk by the time he got to his door. 'Back already, Jack?' said his mother. 'I see you haven't got Milky-White, so you've sold her. How much did you get for her?' 'You'll never guess, mother,' says Jack. 'No, you don't say so. Good boy! Five pounds? Ten? Fifteen? No, it can't be twenty.' 'I told you you couldn't guess. What do you say to these beans? They're magical. Plant them overnight and -- ' 'What!' says Jack's mother. 'Have you been such a fool, such a dolt, such an idiot, as to give away my Milky-White, the best milker in the parish, and prime beef to boot, for a set of paltry beans? Take that! Take that! Take that! And as for your precious beans here they go out of the window. And now off with you to bed. Not a sup shall you drink, and not a bit shall you swallow this very night.' So Jack went upstairs to his little room in the attic, and sad and sorry he was, to be sure, as much for his mother's sake as for the loss of his supper. At last he dropped off to sleep. When he woke up, the room looked so funny. The sun was shining into part of it, and yet all the rest was quite dark and shady. So Jack jumped up and dressed himself and went to the window. And what do you think he saw? Why, the beans his mother had thrown out of the window into the garden had sprung up into a big beanstalk which went up and up and up till it reached the sky. So the man spoke truth after all. The beanstalk grew up quite close past Jack's window, so all he had to do was to open it and give a jump onto the beanstalk which ran up just like a big ladder. So Jack climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till at last he reached the sky. And when he got there he found a long broad road going as straight as a dart. So he walked along, and he walked along, and he walked along till he came to a great big tall house, and on the doorstep there was a great big tall woman. 'Good morning, mum,' says Jack, quite polite-like. 'Could you be so kind as to give me some breakfast?' For he hadn't had anything to eat, you know, the night before, and was as hungry as a hunter. 'It's breakfast you want, is it?' says the great big tall woman. 'It's breakfast you'll be if you don't move off from here. My man is an ogre and there's nothing he likes better than boys broiled on toast. You'd better be moving on or he'll be coming.' 'Oh! please, mum, do give me something to eat, mum. I've had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, really and truly, mum,' says Jack. 'I may as well be broiled as die of hunger.' Well, the ogre's wife was not half so bad after all. So she took Jack into the kitchen, and gave him a hunk of bread and cheese and a jug of milk. But Jack hadn't half finished these when thump! thump! thump! the whole house began to tremble with the noise of someone coming. 'Goodness gracious me! It's my old man,' said the ogre's wife. 'What on earth shall I do? Come along quick and jump in here.' And she bundled Jack into the oven just as the ogre came in. He was a big one, to be sure. At his belt he had three calves strung up by the heels, and he unhooked them and threw them down on the table and said, 'Here, wife, broil me a couple of these for breakfast. Ah! what's this I smell? 'Nonsense, dear,' said his wife. 'You' re dreaming. Or perhaps you smell the scraps of that little boy you liked so much for yesterday's dinner. Here, you go and have a wash and tidy up, and by the time you come back your breakfast'll be ready for you.' So off the ogre went, and Jack was just going to jump out of the oven and run away when the woman told him not. 'Wait till he's asleep,' says she; 'he always has a doze after breakfast.' Well, the ogre had his breakfast, and after that he goes to a big chest and takes out a couple of bags of gold, and down he sits and counts till at last his head began to nod and he began to snore till the whole house shook again. Then Jack crept out on tiptoe from his oven, and as he was passing the ogre, he took one of the bags of gold under his arm, and off he pelters till he came to the beanstalk, and then he threw down the bag of gold, which, of course, fell into his mother's garden, and then he climbed down and climbed down till at last he got home and told his mother and showed her the gold and said, 'Well, mother, wasn't I right about the beans? They are really magical, you see.' So they lived on the bag of gold for some time, but at last they came to the end of it, and Jack made up his mind to try his luck once more at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning he rose up early, and got onto the beanstalk, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till at last he came out onto the road again and up to the great tall house he had been to before. There, sure enough, was the great tall woman a-standing on the doorstep. 'Good morning, mum,' says Jack, as bold as brass, 'could you be so good as to give me something to eat?' 'Go away, my boy,' said the big tall woman, 'or else my man will eat you up for breakfast. But aren't you the youngster who came here once before? Do you know, that very day my man missed one of his bags of gold.' 'That's strange, mum,' said Jack, 'I dare say I could tell you something about that, but I'm so hungry I can't speak till I've had something to eat.' Well, the big tall woman was so curious that she took him in and gave him something to eat. But he had scarcely begun munching it as slowly as he could when thump! thump! they heard the giant's footstep, and his wife hid Jack away in the oven. All happened as it did before. In came the ogre as he did before, said, 'Fee-fi-fo-fum,' and had his breakfast off three broiled oxen. Then he said, 'Wife, bring me the hen that lays the golden eggs.' So she brought it, and the ogre said, 'Lay,' and it laid an egg all of gold. And then the ogre began to nod his head, and to snore till the house shook. Then Jack crept out of the oven on tiptoe and caught hold of the golden hen, and was off before you could say 'Jack Robinson.' But this time the hen gave a cackle which woke the ogre, and just as Jack got out of the house he heard him calling, 'Wife, wife, what have you done with my golden hen?' And the wife said, 'Why, my dear?' But that was all Jack heard, for he rushed off to the beanstalk and climbed down like a house on fire. And when he got home he showed his mother the wonderful hen, and said 'Lay' to it; and it laid a golden egg every time he said 'Lay.' Well, Jack was not content, and it wasn't long before he determined to have another try at his luck up there at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning he rose up early and got to the beanstalk, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till he got to the top. But this time he knew better than to go straight to the ogre's house. And when he got near it, he waited behind a bush till he saw the ogre's wife come out with a pail to get some water, and then he crept into the house and got into the copper. He hadn't been there long when he heard thump! thump! thump! as before, and in came the ogre and his wife. 'Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,' cried out the ogre. 'I smell him, wife, I smell him.' 'Do you, my dearie?' says the ogre's wife. 'Then, if it's that little rogue that stole your gold and the hen that laid the golden eggs he's sure to have got into the oven.' And they both rushed to the oven. But Jack wasn't there, luckily, and the ogre' s wife said, 'There you are again with your fee-fi-fo-fum. Why, of course, it's the boy you caught last night that I've just broiled for your breakfast. How forgetful I am, and how careless you are not to know the difference between live and dead after all these years.' So the ogre sat down to the breakfast and ate it, but every now and then he would mutter, 'Well, I could have sworn --' and he'd get up and search the larder and the cupboards and everything, only, luckily, he didn't think of the copper. After breakfast was over, the ogre called out, 'Wife, wife, bring me my golden harp.' So she brought it and put it on the table before him. Then he said, 'Sing!' and the golden harp sang most beautifully. And it went on singing till the ogre fell asleep, and commenced to snore like thunder. Then Jack lifted up the copper lid very quietly and got down like a mouse and crept on hands and knees till he came to the table, when up he crawled, caught hold of the golden harp and dashed with it towards the door. But the harp called out quite loud, 'Master! Master!' and the ogre woke up just in time to see Jack running off with his harp. Jack ran as fast as he could, and the ogre came rushing after, and would soon have caught him, only Jack had a start and dodged him a bit and knew where he was going. When he got to the beanstalk the ogre was not more than twenty yards away when suddenly he saw Jack disappear like, and when he came to the end of the road he saw Jack underneath climbing down for dear life. Well, the ogre didn't like trusting himself to such a ladder, and he stood and waited, so Jack got another start. But just then the harp cried out, 'Master! Master!' and the ogre swung himself down onto the beanstalk, which shook with his weight. Down climbs Jack, and after him climbed the ogre. By this time Jack had climbed down and climbed down and climbed down till he was very nearly home. So he called out, 'Mother! Mother! bring me an ax, bring me an ax.' And his mother came rushing out with the ax in her hand, but when she came to the beanstalk she stood stock still with fright, for there she saw the ogre with his legs just through the clouds. But Jack jumped down and got hold of the ax and gave a chop at the beanstalk which cut it half in two. The ogre felt the beanstalk shake and quiver, so he stopped to see what was the matter. Then Jack gave another chop with the ax, and the beanstalk was cut in two and began to topple over. Then the ogre fell down and broke his crown, and the beanstalk came toppling after. Then Jack showed his mother his golden harp, and what with showing that and selling the golden eggs, Jack and his mother became very rich, and he married a great princess, and they lived happy ever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
328,Jack and the Beanstalk (Lang),As recorded by Andrew Lang,NA,"Andrew Lang, The Red Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1895), pp. 133-45. First published 1890.","Once upon a time there was a poor widow who lived in a little cottage with her only son Jack. Jack was a giddy, thoughtless boy, but very kind hearted and affectionate. There had been a hard winter, and after it the poor woman had suffered from fever and ague. Jack did no work as yet, and by degrees they grew dreadfully poor. The widow saw that there was no means of keeping Jack and herself from starvation but by selling her cow; so one morning she said to her son, 'I am too weak to go myself, Jack, so you must take the cow to market for me, and sell her.' Jack liked going to market to sell the cow very much; but as he was on the way, he met a butcher who had some beautiful beans in his hand. Jack stopped to look at them, and the butcher told the boy that they were of great value and persuaded the silly lad to sell the cow for these beans. When he brought them home to his mother instead of the money she expected for her nice cow, she was very vexed and shed many tears, scolding Jack for his folly. He was very sorry, and mother and son went to bed very sadly that night; their last hope seemed gone. At daybreak Jack rose and went out into the garden. 'At least,' he thought, 'I will sow the wonderful beans. Mother says that they are just common scarlet runners, and nothing else; but I may as well sow them.' So he took a piece of stick, and made some holes in the ground, and put in the beans. That day they had very little dinner, and went sadly to bed, knowing that for the next day there would be none, and Jack, unable to sleep from grief and vexation, got up at day-dawn and went out into the garden. What was his amazement to find that the beans had grown up in the night, and climbed up and up until they covered the high cliff that sheltered the cottage and disappeared above it! The stalks had twined and twisted themselves together until they formed quite a ladder. 'It would be easy to climb it,' thought Jack. And, having thought of the experiment, he at once resolved to carry it out, for Jack was a good climber. However, after his late mistake about the cow, he thought he had better consult his mother first. So Jack called his mother, and they both gazed in silent wonder at the beanstalk, which was not only of great height, but was thick enough to bear Jack's weight. 'I wonder where it ends,' said Jack to his mother. 'I think I will climb up and see.' His mother wished him not to venture up this strange ladder, but Jack coaxed her to give her consent to the attempt, for he was certain there must be something wonderful in the beanstalk; so at last she yielded to his wishes. Jack instantly began to climb, and went up and up on the ladder-like beanstalk until everything he had left behind him -- the cottage, the village, and even the tall church tower -- looked quite little, and still he could not see the top of the beanstalk. Jack felt a little tired, and thought for a moment that he would go back again; but he was a very persevering boy, and he knew that the way to succeed in anything is not to give up. So after resting for a moment he went on. After climbing higher and higher, until he grew afraid to look down for fear he should be giddy, Jack at last reached the top of the beanstalk, and found himself in a beautiful country, finely wooded, with beautiful meadows covered with sheep. A crystal stream ran through the pastures; not far from the place where he had got off the beanstalk stood a fine, strong castle. Jack wondered very much that he had never heard of or seen this castle before; but when he reflected on the subject, he saw that it was as much separated from the village by the perpendicular rock on which it stood as if it were in another land. While Jack was standing looking at the castle, a very strange looking woman came out of the wood, and advanced towards him. She wore a pointed cap of quilted red satin turned up with ermine. Her hair streamed loose over her shoulders, and she walked with a staff. Jack took off his cap and made her a bow. 'If you please, ma'am,' said he, 'is this your house?' 'No,' said the old lady. 'Listen, and I will tell you the story of that castle:' Jack uttered a cry of surprise. 'My mother! Oh, madam, what ought I to do? My poor father! My dear mother!' 'Your duty requires you to win it back for your mother. But the task is a very difficult one, and full of peril, Jack. Have you courage to undertake it?' 'I fear nothing when I am doing right,' said Jack. 'Then,' said the lady in the red cap, 'you are one of those who slay giants. You must get into the castle, and if possible possess yourself of a hen that lays golden eggs, and a harp that talks. Remember, all the giant possesses is really yours.' As she ceased speaking, the lady of the red hat suddenly disappeared, and of course Jack knew she was a fairy. Jack determined at once to attempt the adventure; so he advanced, and blew the horn which hung at the castle portal. The door was opened in a minute or two by a frightful giantess, with one great eye in the middle of her forehead. As soon as Jack saw her he turned to run away, but she caught him, and dragged him into the castle. 'Ho, ho!' she laughed terribly. 'You didn't expect to see me here, that is clear! No, I shan't let you go again. I am weary of my life. I am so overworked, and I don't see why I should not have a page as well as other ladies. And you shall be my boy. You shall clean the knives, and black the boots, and make the fires, and help me generally when the giant is out. When he is at home I must hide you, for he has eaten up all my pages hitherto, and you would be a dainty morsel, my little lad.' While she spoke she dragged Jack right into the castle. The poor boy was very much frightened, as I am sure you and I would have been in his place. But he remembered that fear disgraces a man, so he struggled to be brave and make the best of things. 'I am quite ready to help you, and do all I can to serve you, madam,' he said, 'only I beg you will be good enough to hide me from your husband, for I should not like to be eaten at all.' 'That's a good boy,' said the giantess, nodding her head; 'it is lucky for you that you did not scream out when you saw me, as the other boys who have been here did, for if you had done so my husband would have awakened and have eaten you, as he did them, for breakfast. Come here, child; go into my wardrobe. He never ventures to open that. You will be safe there.' And she opened a huge wardrobe which stood in the great hall, and shut him into it. But the keyhole was so large that it admitted plenty of air, and he could see everything that took place through it. By and by he heard a heavy tramp on the stairs, like the lumbering along of a great cannon, and then a voice like thunder cried out. 'Wife,' cried the giant, 'there is a man in the castle. Let me have him for breakfast.' 'You are grown old and stupid,' cried the lady in her loud tones. 'It is only a nice fresh steak off an elephant that I have cooked for you which you smell. There, sit down and make a good breakfast.' And she placed a huge dish before him of savory steaming meat, which greatly pleased him and made him forget his idea of an Englishman being in the castle. When he had breakfasted he went out for a walk; and then the giantess opened the door, and made Jack come out to help her. He helped her all day. She fed him well, and when evening came put him back in the wardrobe. The giant came in to supper. Jack watched him through the keyhole, and was amazed to see him pick a wolf's bone and put half a fowl at a time into his capacious mouth. When the supper was ended he bade his wife bring him his hen that laid the golden eggs. 'It lays as well as it did when it belonged to that paltry knight,' he said. 'Indeed, I think the eggs are heavier than ever.' The giantess went away, and soon returned with a little brown hen, which she placed on the table before her husband. 'And now, my dear,' she said, 'I am going for a walk, if you don't want me any longer.' 'Go,' said the giant. 'I shall be glad to have a nap by and by.' Then he took up the brown hen and said to her, 'Lay!' And she instantly laid a golden egg. 'Lay!' said the giant again. And she laid another. 'Lay!' he repeated the third time. And again a golden egg lay on the table. Now Jack was sure this hen was that of which the fairy had spoken. By and by the giant put the hen down on the floor, and soon after went fast asleep, snoring so loud that it sounded like thunder. Directly Jack perceived that the giant was fast asleep, he pushed open the door of the wardrobe and crept out. Very softly he stole across the room, and, picking up the hen, made haste to quit the apartment. He knew the way to the kitchen, the door of which he found was left ajar. He opened it, shut and locked it after him, and flew back to the beanstalk, which he descended as fast as his feet would move. When his mother saw him enter the house she wept for joy, for she had feared that the fairies had carried him away, or that the giant had found him. But Jack put the brown hen down before her, and told her how he had been in the giant's castle, and all his adventures. She was very glad to see the hen, which would make them rich once more. Jack made another journey up the beanstalk to the giant's castle one day while his mother had gone to market. But first he dyed his hair and disguised himself. The old woman did not know him again and dragged him in as she had done before to help her to do the work; but she heard her husband coming, and hid him in the wardrobe, not thinking that it was the same boy who had stolen the hen. She bade him stay quite still there, or the giant would eat him. Then the giant came in saying: 'Nonsense!' said the wife, 'it is only a roasted bullock that I thought would be a tit-bit for your supper; sit down and I will bring it up at once.' The giant sat down, and soon his wife brought up a roasted bullock on a large dish, and they began their supper. Jack was amazed to see them pick the bones of the bullock as if it had been a lark. As soon as they had finished their meal, the giantess rose and said:, 'Now, my dear, with your leave I am going up to my room to finish the story I am reading. If you want me call for me.' 'First,' answered the giant, 'bring me my money bags, that I may count my golden pieces before I sleep.' The giantess obeyed. She went and soon returned with two large bags over her shoulders, which she put down by her husband. 'There,' she said; 'that is all that is left of the knight's money. When you have spent it you must go and take another baron's castle.' 'That he shan't, if I can help it,' thought Jack. The giant, when his wife was gone, took out heaps and heaps of golden pieces, and counted them, and put them in piles, until he was tired of the amusement. Then he swept them all back into their bags, and leaning back in his chair fell fast asleep, snoring so loud that no other sound was audible. Jack stole softly out of the wardrobe, and taking up the bags of money (which were his very own, because the giant had stolen them from his father), he ran off, and with great difficulty descending the beanstalk, laid the bags of gold on his mother's table. She had just returned from town, and was crying at not finding Jack. 'There, mother, I have brought you the gold that my father lost.' 'Oh, Jack! You are a very good boy, but I wish you would not risk your precious life in the giant's castle. Tell me how you came to go there again.' And Jack told her all about it. Jack's mother was very glad to get the money, but she did not like him to run any risk for her. But after a time Jack made up his mind to go again to the giant's castle. So he climbed the beanstalk once more, and blew the horn at the giant's gate. The giantess soon opened the door. She was very stupid, and did not know him again, but she stopped a minute before she took him in. She feared another robbery; but Jack's fresh face looked so innocent that she could not resist him, and so she bade him come in, and again hid him away in the wardrobe. By and by the giant came home, and as soon as he had crossed the threshold he roared out: 'You stupid old giant,' said his wife, 'you only smell a nice sheep, which I have grilled for your dinner.' And the giant sat down, and his wife brought up a whole sheep for his dinner. When he had eaten it all up, he said, 'Now bring me my harp, and I will have a little music while you take your walk.' The giantess obeyed, and returned with a beautiful harp. The framework was all sparkling with diamonds and rubies, and the strings were all of gold. 'This is one of the nicest things I took from the knight,' said the giant. 'I am very fond of music, and my harp is a faithful servant.' So he drew the harp towards him, and said, 'Play!' And the harp played a very soft, sad air. 'Play something merrier!' said the giant. And the harp played a merry tune. 'Now play me a lullaby,' roared the giant, and the harp played a sweet lullaby, to the sound of which its master fell asleep. Then Jack stole softly out of the wardrobe, and went into the huge kitchen to see if the giantess had gone out. He found no one there, so he went to the door and opened it softly, for he thought he could not do so with the harp in his hand. Then he entered the giant's room and seized the harp and ran away with it; but as he jumped over the threshold the harp called out, 'Master! Master!' And the giant woke up. With a tremendous roar he sprang from his seat, and in two strides had reached the door. But Jack was very nimble. He fled like lightning with the harp, talking to it as he went (for he saw it was a fairy), and telling it he was the son of its old master, the knight. Still the giant came on so fast that he was quite close to poor Jack, and had stretched out his great hand to catch him. But, luckily, just at the moment he stepped upon a loose stone, stumbled, and fell flat on the ground, where he lay at his full length. This accident gave Jack time to get on the beanstalk and hasten down it; but just as he reached their own garden he beheld the giant descending after him. 'Mother! mother!' cried Jack, 'make haste and give me the ax.' His mother ran to him with a hatchet in her hand, and Jack with one tremendous blow cut through all the stems except one. 'Now, mother, stand out of the way!' said he. Jack's mother shrank back, and it was well she did so, for just as the giant took hold of the last branch of the beanstalk, Jack cut the stem quite through and darted from the spot. Down came the giant with a terrible crash, and as he fell on his head, he broke his neck, and lay dead at the feet of the woman he had so much injured. Before Jack and his mother had recovered from their alarm and agitation, a beautiful lady stood before them. 'Jack,' said she, 'you have acted like a brave knight's son, and deserve to have your inheritance restored to you. Dig a grave and bury the giant, and then go and kill the giantess.' 'But,' said Jack, 'I could not kill anyone unless I were fighting with him; and I could not draw my sword upon a woman. Moreover, the giantess was very kind to me.' The fairy smiled on Jack. 'I am very much pleased with your generous feeling,' she said. 'Nevertheless, return to the castle, and act as you will find needful.' Jack asked the fairy if she would show him the way to the castle, as the beanstalk was now down. She told him that she would drive him there in her chariot, which was drawn by two peacocks. Jack thanked her, and sat down in the chariot with her. The fairy drove him a long distance round, until they reached a village which lay at the bottom of the hill. Here they found a number of miserable-looking men assembled. The fairy stopped her carriage and addressed them. 'My friends,' said she, 'the cruel giant who oppressed you and ate up all your flocks and herds is dead, and this young gentleman was the means of your being delivered from him, and is the son of your kind old master, the knight.' The men gave a loud cheer at these words, and pressed forward to say that they would serve Jack as faithfully as they had served his father. The fairy bade them follow her to the castle, and they marched thither in a body, and Jack blew the horn and demanded admittance. The old giantess saw them coming from the turret loop hole. She was very much frightened, for she guessed that something had happened to her husband; and as she came downstairs very fast she caught her foot in her dress, and fell from the top to the bottom and broke her neck. When the people outside found that the door was not opened to them, they took crowbars and forced the portal. Nobody was to be seen, but on leaving the hall they found the body of the giantess at the foot of the stairs. Thus Jack took possession of the castle. The fairy went and brought his mother to him, with the hen and the harp. He had the giantess buried, and endeavored as much as lay in his power to do right to those whom the giant had robbed. Before her departure for fairyland, the fairy explained to Jack that she had sent the butcher to meet him with the beans, in order to try what sort of lad he was. 'If you had looked at the gigantic beanstalk and only stupidly wondered about it,' she said, 'I should have left you where misfortune had placed you, only restoring her cow to your mother. But you showed an inquiring mind, and great courage and enterprise, therefore you deserve to rise; and when you mounted the beanstalk you climbed the Ladder of Fortune.' She then took her leave of Jack and his mother.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
154,The Jackal and the Farmer,North Africa (Kabyl),Translated by D. L. Ashliman. The Kabyl people belong to the Berbers of North Africa. They are native to the Djurdjura Mountains of Algeria.,"Leo Frobenius, 'Der Schakal und der Bauer,' Volksmärchen der Kabylen, Band 3: Das Fabelhafte (Jena: Eugen Diederichs, 1921), no. 7, pp. 24-26.","The farmer was terrified. He unhitched one of the oxen and gave it to the lion. The lion took it and dragged it away. The farmer went home with the remaining ox and bought a second one that same evening so that the next day he would be able to plow again. The next day the farmer plowed again from morning morning until evening, and when it was evening the lion came again and said, 'Farmer, give me one of your two oxen or I'll kill both of them and you as well.' Again the farmer gave him an ox. That evening he bought another ox so that he would be able to plow again the next day. The next evening the lion came again and demanded an ox. The farmer gave the lion an ox every evening. One evening the jackal came by as the farmer was driving his single ox home. The jackal said, 'Every morning I see you leave the farmyard with two oxen and every evening I see you coming back with only one. Why is that?' The farmer said, 'Every evening when I am finished with the day's work the lion comes and demands one of my oxen and threatens to kill me and both oxen if I don't grant his wish.' The jackal said, 'If you promise to give me a sheep I will free you from the lion.' The farmer answered, 'If you can free me from the lion I will gladly promise you a sheep.' The jackal said, 'Tomorrow I will call out with a disguised voice from up there on the hill and ask who is speaking with you. Then you answer that it is only an Asko (a block of wood to be split). Have a hatchet at hand. Do you understand me?' The farmer said, 'Certainly, I understand you.' The next day the farmer took a hatchet with him to the field and plowed as usual with the two oxen from morning till eve. When it was evening the lion came and said, 'Farmer, give me an ox or I shall kill both oxen and you as well.' When the lion had said that a deep voice spoke from the hill and said, 'Farmer, who is talking with you?' The lion was afraid, ducked down, and said in a frightened voice, 'That is god.' But the farmer replied loudly, 'It is only an Asko.' The voice answered loudly, 'Then take your hatchet and split the block of wood.' The lion said softly, 'Just hit me gently, farmer,' and with that he bowed his head. The farmer gripped his hatchet and struck at the lion's skull with all his force so that he split it, and the lion died at once. The jackal came down from the hill and said, 'I have done what I promised. The lion is finished. Tomorrow I will come again to fetch the sheep that you promised me.' The farmer said, 'You shall have it.' The farmer came home. He said to his wife, 'The jackal has freed me from the lion. Now I will give him a ram. I will kill it. You pack it up so that I can take it with me to the field tomorrow.' The man killed the ram. As his wife was packing it up she said, 'Why shouldn't we eat the good ram ourselves?' She put the ram into a leather sack. She laid the leather sack in a wicker basket. But she had their dog to lie down in the basket beside the leather sack. She said to the farmer, 'If the jackal does not take the ram during the day, then bring it home again. Otherwise the animals that have done nothing for you will eat it during the night. Set the basket down in the field just as it is and then let happen what will.' The farmer went to the field. He put the basket down on the field and shouted, 'Jackal here is your ram!' Then he went to work, plowing from morning until evening without further concerning himself about the basket, the ram, or the jackal. However, the jackal approached the basket in order to get the ram. When he stuck his nose into the basket the dog leaped up. The jackal ran away as fast as he could. The dog ran after him for a while but seeing that the jackal was too fast, he gave up and ran home. The jackal swore never to help men again. In the evening the farmer came. He looked into the basket and found the ram still untouched. So he picked up the basket again with the ram in it, brought it home, and said, 'The jackal has not called for his ram. Now we can eat it ourselves!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
154,Well Done and Ill Paid,Norway,NA,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Vel gjort og ille lønnet, Norske Folkeeventyr. I have followed the translation of George Webbe Dasent, Popular Tales from the Norse, (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), no. 35, pp. 298-302.","Once on a time there was a man, who had to drive his sledge to the wood for fuel. So a bear met him. 'Out with your horse,' said the bear, 'or I'll strike all your sheep dead by summer.' 'Oh! heaven help me then,' said the man. 'There's not a stick of firewood in the house. You must let me drive home a load of fuel, else we shall be frozen to death. I'll bring the horse to you tomorrow morning.' Yes, on those terms he might drive the wood home. That was a bargain. But Bruin said if he didn't come back, he should lose all his sheep by summer. So the man got the wood on the sledge and rattled homewards, but he wasn't over pleased at the bargain you may fancy. So just then a fox met him. 'Why, what's the matter?' said the fox. 'Why are you so down in the mouth?' 'Oh, if you want to know,' said the man, 'I met a bear up yonder in the wood, and I had to give my word to him to bring Dobbin back tomorrow, at this very hour; for if he didn't get him, he said he would tear all my sheep to death by summer.' 'Stuff, nothing worse than that,' said the fox. 'If you'll give me your fattest wether, I'll soon set you free. See if I don't.' Yes, the man gave his word, and swore he would keep it too. 'Well, when you come with Dobbin tomorrow for the bear,' said the fox, 'I'll make a clatter up in that heap of stones yonder, and so when the bear asks what that noise is, you must say 'tis Peter the Marksman, who is the best shot in the world. And after that you must help yourself.' Next day off set the man, and when he met the bear, something began to make a clatter up in the heap of stones. 'Hist! What's that?' said the bear. 'Oh! that's Peter the Marksman, to be sure,' said the man. 'He's the best shot in the world. I know him by his voice.' 'Have you seen any bears about here, Eric?' shouted out a voice in the wood. 'Say No!' said the bear. 'No, I haven't seen any,' said Eric. 'What's that then that stands alongside your sledge?' bawled out the voice in the wood. 'Say it's an old fir stump,' said the bear. 'Oh, it's only an old fir stump,' said the man. 'Such fir stumps we take in our country and roll them on our sledges,' bawled out the voice. 'If you can't do it yourself, I'll come and help you.' 'Say you can help yourself, and roll me up on the sledge,' said the bear. 'No, thank ye, I can help myself well enough,' said the man, and rolled the bear onto the sledge. 'Such fir stumps we always bind fast on our sledges in our part of the world,' bawled out the voice. 'Shall I come and help you?' 'Say you can help yourself, and bind me fast, do.' said the bear. 'No, thanks, I can help myself well enough,' said the man, who set to binding Bruin fast with all the ropes he had, so that at last the bear couldn't stir a paw. 'Such fir stumps we always drive our axes into in our part of the world,' bawled out the voice, 'for then we guide them better going down the steep pitches.' 'Pretend to drive your axe into me, do now,' said the bear. Then the man took up his axe, and at one blow split the bear's skull, so that Bruin lay dead in a trice, and so the man and the fox were great friends, and on the best terms. But when they came near the farm, the fox said, 'I've no mind to go right home with you, for I can't say I like your tykes, so I'll just wait here, and you can bring the wether to me, but mind and pick out one nice and fat.' Yes, the man would be sure to do that, and thanked the fox much for his help. So when he had put up Dobbin, he went across to the sheep stall. 'Whither away, now?' asked his old dame. 'Oh!' said the man, 'I'm only going to the sheep stall to fetch a fat wether for that cunning fox who set our Dobbin free. I gave him my word I would.' 'Wether, indeed,' said the old dame. 'Never a one shall that thief of a fox get. Haven't we got Dobbin safe and the bear into the bargain. And as for the fox, I'll be bound he's stolen more of our geese than the wether is worth. And even if he hasn't stolen them, he will. No, no; take a brace of your swiftest hounds in a sack, and slip them loose after him. And then, perhaps, we shall be rid of this robbing Reynard.' Well, the man thought that good advice; so he took two fleet red hounds, put them into a sack, and set off with them. 'Have you brought the wether?' said the fox. 'Yes, come and take it,' said the man, as he untied the sack and let slip the hounds. ' Huff!' said the fox, and gave a great spring. 'True it is what the old saw says, 'Well done is often ill paid.' And now, too, I see the truth of another saying, 'The worst foes are those of one's own house.'' That was what the fox said as he ran off, and saw the red fox hounds at his heels. ille lønnet, Norske Folkeeventyr. I have followed the translation of George Webbe Dasent, Popular Tales from the Norse, (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), no. 35, pp. 298-302.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,Frederigo da Pozzuolo Is Pressed by His Wife to Tell a Secret,Giovanni Francesco Straparola,"Title provided by D. L. Ashliman. Straparola's Le piacevoli notti (The Facetious Nights), first published in two volumes (1550-53), is one of Europe's oldest fairy tale or folktale collections. D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.","Straparola, The Facetious Nights, translated by W. G. Waters, vol. 4 (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliphiles, 1891), day 12, tale 2, pp. 96-102.","It is the duty of all wise and prudent men to hold their wives in due fear and subjection, and on no account to be induced by them to wear their breeches as head gear. If indeed they should be led to follow other courses than these, they will of a surety have good cause to repent in the end. It happened one day that Federigo da Pozzuolo, a young man of great parts and prudence, was riding towards Naples on a mare of his which was in foal, carrying behind him on the crupper his wife, who was also pregnant. Likewise there was a young colt which followed the mare its mother, and, having been left some distance behind on the road, it began to neigh, and to cry out in its own language, 'Mother, mother, go slowly, I pray you; because I, being very young and tender, and only just a year old, am not able in my pace to follow in your footsteps.' Hearing this the mare pricked up her ears, and, sniffing the air with her nostrils, began also to neigh loudly, and said in answer to her colt, 'I have to carry my mistress, who is with child, and in addition to this I bear a young brother of yours in my womb; while you, who are young and brisk, carry no burden of any sort strapped on your back, and yet you declare that you cannot travel. Come on, if you wish to come; but if not, go and do whatever pleases you.' The young man, when he understood the meaning of these words (for be it known he was well skilled in the utterances of birds and of all the animals that live on earth), smiled somewhat; whereupon his wife, who was greatly filled with wonder thereanent, questioned him as to the reason why he smiled. To this her husband made answer that he had laughed spontaneously; but that, if in any event he should be led to tell her the cause of his laughter, she might take it for certain that the Fates would without more ado cut the thread of his life, and that he would die on the spot. But the importunate woman was not satisfied with this, and replied that she wanted, at all hazard, to know the reason why he had thus laughed; adding that if he would not tell her she would lay hold of him by the weazand. Then the husband, finding himself thus placed in a position of difficulty and danger, answered her, speaking thus, 'When we shall have returned to Pozzuolo you shall set in order all my affairs, and make all the necessary provisions both for my body and my soul after death. Then I will make known to you all you want to learn.' As soon as her husband had given her this promise the wicked and malicious woman was silent, and when they were returned to Pozzuolo she quickly recalled to mind the promise which had been made to her, and forthwith besought her husband to be as good as his word. Whereupon Federigo replied by charging her to go at once and fetch the priest, forasmuch as, seeing that he must needs die on account of this matter, he was anxious first to confess himself, and to recommend himself to his Maker. As soon as she should have done this, he would tell her all. Thereupon the wife, who was determined to see her husband lying dead rather than give up aught of her pestilent wishes, went forthwith to summon the confessor. At this moment, while Federigo was lying in his bed, overcome with grief, he heard his dog address certain words to his cock, who was crowing aloud, 'Are you not ashamed of yourself, wretch and ribald that you are, to crow thus? Our good master is lying very near his last breath, and you, who ought to be sorrowful and full of melancholy, keep on crowing as if you rejoiced thereat.' To these words the cock promptly made answer, 'And supposing that our master should die, what have I to do with that? Am I, indeed, to be charged with causing his death? He wishes to die of his own accord. Do you not know what is written in the first book of the Politics [by Aristotle], 'The wife and the servant stand on the same footing.' Seeing, therefore, that the husband is the head of the wife, it is her bounden duty to regard the usages and customs of her husband as the laws of her life. I, forsooth, have a hundred wives, and, through the workings of fear, I make them all most obedient to my commandments, castigating now one and now another, and giving pecks wherever I may think they are deserved. And this master of ours has only a single wife, yet he knows naught how to manage her, and to make her obedient to his commands. Let him die forthwith. Do you not believe that our mistress will soon find for herself another husband? So let it be with him, seeing that he is a man of such little account, and one disposed to give way to the foolish and unbridled will of his wife.' The young man, when he had comprehended and well considered in his mind the words he had just listened to, at once altered his purpose, and felt deeply grateful to the cock for what he had said. The wife, after she had come back from seeking the priest, was still pertinacious to learn the cause of her husband's laughter; wherefore he, having seized her by the hair, began to beat her, and gave her so many and lusty blows that he nearly left her for dead. This fable did not vastly please those of the listeners who were ladies, especially when they heard tell of the sound basting which Federigo gave his wife. Nevertheless, they grieved amain when they heard how she would fain have been the cause of her husband's death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,Ramai and the Bonga,India,"A bonga is a household spirit, comparable to a brownie.","Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 157, pp. 393-95.","Once a bonga haunted the house of a certain man and became such a nuisance that the man had him exorcised and safely pegged down to the ground; and they fenced in the place where the bonga lay with thorns and put a large stone on the top of him. Just at the place was a clump of 'Kite's claws' bushes and one day when the berries on the bushes were ripe, a certain cowherd named Ramai went to pick them and when he came round to the stone which covered the bonga he stood on it to pick the fruit, and the bonga called out to him to get off the stone. Ramai looked about and seeing no one said 'Who is that speaking?' and the voice said 'I am buried under the stone; if you will take it off me I will give you whatever boon you ask.' Ramai said that he was afraid that the bonga would eat him but the bonga swore to do him no harm, so he lifted up the stone and the bonga came out and thanking Ramai told him to ask a boon. Ramai asked for the power to see bongas and to understand the language of ants. 'I will give you the power,' said the bonga, 'but you must tell no one about it, not even your wife; if you do you will lose the power and in that case you must not blame me,' Then the bonga blew into his ear and he heard the speech of ants; and the bonga scratched the film of his eye balls with a thorn and he saw the bongas: and there were crowds of them living in villages like men. In December when we thresh the rice the bongas carry off half of it; but Ramai could see them and would drive them away and so was able to save his rice. Once a young fellow of his own age was very ill; and his friends blew into his ears and partially brought him to his senses and he asked them to send for Ramai; so they called Ramai and he had just been milking his cows and came with the tethering rope in his hand; and when he entered the room he saw a bonga sitting on the sick man's chest and twisting his neck; so he flogged it with the rope till it ran away and he pursued it until it threw itself into a pool of water; and then the sick man recovered. But Ramai soon lost his useful power; one day as he was eating his dinner he dropped some grains of rice, and two ants fell to quarrelling over one grain, and Ramai heard them abusing each other and was so amused that he laughed out loud. His wife asked why he laughed, and he said at nothing in particular, but she insisted on knowing and he said that it was at some scandal he had heard in the village; but she would not believe him and worried him until he told her that it was at the quarrel of the ants. Then she made him tell her how he gained the power to understand what they said. But from that moment he lost the powers which the bonga had conferred on him. (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 157, pp. 393-95.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The Billy Goat and the King,"India, Andrew Lang","Note by Lang: Punjabi story, Major Campbell, Feroshepore.","Andrew Lang, The Olive Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1907), pp. 211-15.","Once there lived a certain king who understood the language of all birds and beasts and insects. This knowledge had of course been given him by a fairy godmother; but it was rather a troublesome present, for he knew that if he were ever to reveal anything he had thus learned he would turn into a stone. How he managed to avoid doing so long before this story opens I cannot say, but he had safely grown up to manhood, and married a wife, and was as happy as monarchs generally are. This king, I must tell you, was a Hindu; and when a Hindu eats his food he has a nice little place on the ground freshly plastered with mud, and he sits in the middle of it with very few clothes on -- which is quite a different way from ours. Well, one day the king was eating his dinner in just such a nice, clean, mud-plastered spot, and his wife was sitting opposite to wait upon him and keep him company. As he ate he dropped some grains of rice upon the ground, and a little ant, who was running about seeking a living, seized upon one of the grains and bore it off towards his hole. Just outside the king's circle this ant met another ant, and the king heard the second one say, 'Oh, dear friend, do give me that grain of rice, and get another one for yourself. You see my boots are so dirty that, if I were to go upon the king's eating place, I should defile it, and I can't do that, it would be so very rude.' But the owner of the grain of rice only replied, 'If you want rice go and get it. No one will notice your dirty boots; and you don't suppose that I am going to carry rice for all our kindred?' Then the king laughed. The queen looked at herself up and down, but she could not see or feel anything in her appearance to make the king laugh, so she said, 'What are you laughing at?' 'Did I laugh?' replied the king. 'Of course you did,' retorted the queen; 'and if you think that I am ridiculous I wish you would say so, instead of behaving in that stupid way! What are you laughing at?' 'I'm not laughing at anything,' answered the king. 'Very well, but you did laugh, and l want to know why.' 'Well, I'm afraid I can't tell you,' said the king. 'You must tell me,' replied the queen impatiently. 'If you laugh when there's nothing to laugh at you must be ill or mad. What is the matter? Still the king refused to say, and still the queen declared that she must and would know. For days the quarrel went on, and the queen gave her husband no rest, until at last the poor man was almost out of his wits, and thought that, as life had become for him hardly worth living while this went on, he might as well tell her the secret and take the consequences. 'But,' thought he, 'if I am to become a stone, I am not going to lie, if I can help it, on some dusty highway, to be kicked here and there by man and beast, flung at dogs, be used as the plaything of naughty children, and become generally restless and miserable. I will be a stone at the bottom of the cool river, and roll gently about there until I find some secure resting place where I can stay for ever.' So he told his wife that if she would ride with him to the middle of the river he would tell her what he had laughed at. She thought he was joking, and laughingly agreed; their horses were ordered and they set out. On the way they came to a fine well beneath the shade of some lofty, wide-spreading trees, and the king proposed that they should get off and rest a little, drink some of the cool water, and then pass on. To this the queen consented; so they dismounted and sat down in the shade by the well-side to rest. It happened that an old goat and his wife were browsing in the neighbourhood, and, as the king and queen sat there, the nanny goat came to the well's brink and peering over saw some lovely green leaves that sprang in tender shoots out of the side of the well. 'Oh!' cried she to her husband, 'come quickly and look. Here are some leaves which make my mouth water; come and get them for me!' Then the billy goat sauntered up and looked over, and after that he eyed his wife a little crossly. 'You expect me to get you those leaves, do you? I suppose you don't consider how in the world I am to reach them? You don't seem to think at all; if you did you would know that if I tried to reach those leaves I should fall into the well and be drowned!' 'Oh,' cried the nanny goat, 'why should you fall in? Do try and get them!' 'I am not going to be so silly,' replied the billy goat. But the nanny goat still wept and entreated. 'Look here,' said her husband, 'there are plenty of fools in the world, but I am not one of them. This silly king here, because he can't cure his wife of asking questions, is going to throw his life away. But I know how to cure you of your follies, and I'm going to.' And with that he butted the nanny goat so severely that in two minutes she was submissively feeding somewhere else, and had made up her mind that the leaves in the well were not worth having. Then the king, who had understood every word, laughed once more. The queen looked at him suspiciously, but the king got up and walked across to where she sat. 'Are you still determined to find out what I was laughing at the other day?' he asked. 'Quite,' answered the queen angrily. 'Because,' said the king, tapping his leg with his riding whip, 'I've made up my mind not to tell you, and moreover, I have made up my mind to stop you mentioning the subject any more.' 'What do you mean?' asked the queen nervously. 'Well,' replied the king, 'I notice that if that goat is displeased with his wife, he just butts her, and that seems to settle the question.' 'Do you mean to say you would beat me?' cried the queen. 'I should be extremely sorry to have to do so,' replied the king; 'but I have to persuade you to go home quietly, and to ask no more silly questions when I say I cannot answer them. Of course, if you will persist, why --' And the queen went home, and so did the king; and it is said that they are both happier and wiser than ever before. Olive Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1907), pp. 211-15.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,"The Bull, the Donkey, and the Husbandman",The 1001 Nights,This story combines Aarne-Thompson-Uther folktale types 207A (the bull and the ass) and 670 (the man who understood the language of animals).,"The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated by Richard F. Burton, vol. 1 (Privately printed, 1885), pp. 16-23.","Once Allah endowed a wealthy husbandman with the ability to understand the language of every kind of beast and bird, commanding him, under pain of death, never to divulge this gift. Fearing for his life, the husbandman guarded the secret well. One day while observing his animals, he heard a bull say to a donkey, 'Lucky one, you enjoy the best of care, while I suffer all manner of ill treatment. I toil under the yoke by day, receive but a meager ration of beans and straw, and must lie at night in a filthy stall. You, by comparison, eat well and lie about at ease unless the master chooses to ride you into town, which happens seldom enough, and even then he returns with you straight-away.' 'You fool,' replied the donkey. 'You could have an easier life, if you would only feign illness. When they next take you to your stall, fall to the ground, puff out your belly, and refuse to eat. This will surely bring a reprieve from your accustomed blows and toil.' The bull did as the donkey recommended and pretended to be sick. However, the master, who had overheard their conversation, responded by binding the wily donkey to the plow and forcing him to do the bull's work. The donkey, unaccustomed to such labor, suffered greatly under the yoke and the plowman's stick, while the bull enjoyed a day of rest. At day's end, the donkey, nearly dead from exertion and blows, came quickly to a new plan. 'My friend,' he said to the bull, 'you have a bleak future if you do not soon recover your strength. I heard the master say that he intends to deliver you to the butcher, who will turn your flesh into meat for the poor and your hide into a leather mat.' The husbandman heard this all. The next morning the husbandman, accompanied by his wife, approached the bull in his stall. The beast gave a great show of health and vigor, whisking his tail, farting, and frisking lustily about. The master, greatly amused at the turn of events, broke into laughter. 'Why do you laugh?' asked his wife. 'I cannot tell you, lest I die.' replied the man. 'So be it,' answered the woman, 'but I must know why you laughed.' She continued to wheedle and to beg, until he, sensing that he could not forever resist her unrelenting pleas, resigned himself to his fate. He brought his affairs to order, then prepared to reveal his secret and to die. Now the husbandman had some fifty hens, all serviced by one rooster. The rooster, lustily mounting one hen after the other, was interrupted by one of the farm dogs, who said, 'For shame, that you thus satisfy your lust on this day that our master is to die.' The rooster replied, 'What sort of master do we have, who cannot manage a single wife? I control fifty hens.' 'And what should the master do?' asked the dog. 'He should cut a branch from yonder mulberry tree then use it on her back and ribs until she repents. Then let him give her another beating for good measure, and henceforth he will sleep well and enjoy life.' The husbandman heard this conversation between the dog and the rooster, and he took it to heart. He cut a branch from the mulberry tree and proceeded with it to his wife's room. Locking the door behind him, he announced that he was about to reveal his secret to her, but then began to beat her soundly about her back, shoulders, ribs, arms, and legs, all the while saying, 'Are you ever again going to ask questions about matters that do not concern you?' Nearly senseless, she finally cried out, 'I repent! With Allah as a witness, I will never again question you.' She then kissed his hands and his feet, and he led her from the room as submissive as a wife should be. Her parents and other members of the family rejoiced at the turn of events. Thus the husbandman learned family discipline from his rooster, and he and his wife lived together the happiest of lives until they died. by Richard F. Burton, vol. 1 (Privately printed, 1885), pp. 16-23. the ass) and 670 (the man who understood the language of animals).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The Dog and the Cock,Denmark,NA,"Svendt Grundtvig, 'Hunden og Hanen,' Gamle danske Minder i Folkemunde (Copenhagen: C. G. Iversen, 1856), pp. 117-18.","One day the dog and the cock were walking in the farmyard. The cock was cheerful, flapping his wings and crowing lustily, but the dog hung his tail and appeared to be buried in sad thoughts. Angry at the cock's cheerfulness, he said, 'I cannot understand how you can be so happy!' 'Why not?' asked the cock. 'Can't you see,' said the dog, 'that our master has been going around with a long face for a few days now? I think that we should be sharing his concerns.' 'What are his concerns?' asked the cock. 'About his wife,' said the dog. 'She is so bad that he never gets a good word from her. She is never satisfied with anything he does or says. A woman like that can be the death of a man!' 'She wouldn't be the death of me,' answered the cock. 'I have seventy wives, and if I ever had to hang my head because something went wrong, the devil would be in charge, not I. No, I handle them differently. My wives receive blows if they are stubborn and don't want to listen to me. And if they get in each others' hair, I pull them apart. In this manner I get along splendidly with my seventy wives, and if our master can't deal with his one wife, then he is a sorry fellow indeed!' And with that the cock proudly and cheerfully went on his way. Now the master had been listening in on this entire conversation, so he went to his wife. Once again she had bad words for him, so he answered her with an appropriate measure of blows, and from that time onward she was as tame and agreeable as never before. (Copenhagen: C. G. Iversen, 1856), pp. 117-18.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The King and His Inquisitive Queen,India,NA,"A. Campbell, Santal Folk Tales (Pokhuria: Santal Mission Press, 1891), pp. 22-24.","There was a certain king known by the name of Huntsman, on account of his expertness in the chase. One day when returning from the forest where he had been hunting he found a serpent and a lizard fighting on the path along which he was moving. As they were blocking the way he ordered them to stand aside and allow him to pass, but they gave no heed to what he said. King Huntsman then began to beat them with his staff. He killed the lizard, but the serpent fled, and so escaped. The serpent then went to Monsha, the king of the serpents, and complained of the treatment the lizard and himself had received at the hands of king Huntsman. The next day king Monsha went and met king Huntsman on his way home from the forest, and blocked his way so that he could not pass. King Huntsman being angry said, 'Clear the way, and allow me to pass, or else I shall send an arrow into you. Why do you block my way?' King Monsha replied, 'Why did you assault the lizard and the serpent, with intent to kill them both?' King Huntsman answered, 'I ordered them to get out of my way, but they would not, I therefore assaulted them, and killed one. The other saved himself by flight.' King Monsha hearing this explanation said, 'Very good, the fault was theirs, not yours.' King Huntsman then petitioned the king of the serpents to bestow upon him the gift of understanding the language of animals and insects. King Monsha acceded to his request, and gave him the gift he desired. A few days after this event king Huntsman went to the forest, and after hunting all day returned home in the evening. Having washed his hands and feet, he sat down to his meal of boiled rice. When the rice was being served to the king a few grains fell on the ground, and a fly and an ant began to dispute as to who should carry them away. The fly said, 'I will take them to my children.' The ant replied, 'No, I will take them to mine.' Hearing the two talk thus, the king was amused, and began to smile. The queen, who was standing by, said to him, 'Tell me what has made you laugh.' On being thus addressed the king became greatly confused, for at the time the gift of understanding the language of animals and insects was bestowed upon him, king Monsha had forbidden him to make it known to anyone. He had said, 'If you tell this to any one, I shall eat you.' Remembering this the king feared to answer the question put to him by the queen. He tried to deceive her by saying, 'I did not laugh, you must have been mistaken.' She would not, however, be thus put off, so the king was obliged to tell her that if he answered her question his life would be forfeited. The queen was inexorable, and said, 'Whether you forfeit your life or not, you must tell me.' The king then said, 'Well, if it must be so, let us make ready to go to the bank of the Ganges. There I shall tell you, and when I have done so you must push me into the river, and then return home.' The king armed himself, and the two set out for the river. When they had reached it, they sat down to rest under the shade of a tree A flock of goats was grazing near to where they were seated, and the king's attention was arrested by a conversation which was being carried on between an old she- goat and a young he-goat. The former addressed the latter thus, 'There is an island in the middle of the Ganges, and on that island there is a large quantity of good sweet grass. Get the grass for me, and I shall give you my daughter in marriage.' The he-goat was not thus to be imposed upon. He angrily addressed his female friend as follows, 'Do not think to make me like this foolish king, who vainly tries to please a woman. He has come here to lose his own life at the bidding of one. You tell me to go and bring you grass out of such a flood as this. I am no such fool. I do not care to die yet. There are many more quite as good as your daughter.' The king understood what passed between them, and admitted to himself the truth of what the he-goat had said. After considering a short time he arose, and having made a rude sacrificial altar, said to the queen, 'Kneel down, and do me obeisance, and I shall tell you what made me laugh.' She knelt down, and the king struck off her head and burnt her body upon the altar. Returning home he performed her funeral ceremonies, after which he married another wife. He reigned prosperously for many years, and decided all disputes that were brought before him by animals or insects. Mission Press, 1891), pp. 22-24.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The King Who Learnt the Speech of Animals,Sri Lanka,I follow Parker's use of square brackets and parentheses.,"H. Parker, Village Folk-Tales of Ceylon, vol. 3 (London: Luzac and Company, 1914), no. 238, pp. 258-60.","In a certain country a king was rearing wild animals. The king had learnt in a thorough manner the speech of animals. One day at that time the fowls were saying, 'Our king assists us very much; he gives us food and drink.' They thanked the king very much. The king having heard their talk, the king laughed with pleasure. The royal queen having been near, asked, 'What did you laugh at?' 'I merely (nikan) laughed,' the king said. Should he explain and give the talk to any person the king will die. Because of it he did not explain and give it. That the king knows the speech of animals he does not inform anyone. The royal queen says, 'There is no one who laughs in that way without a reason. Should you not say the reason I am going away, or having jumped into a well I shall die.' Thereupon the king, because he was unable to be released from [the importunity of] the queen, thought, 'Even if I am to die I must explain and give this.' Thinking thus, he went to give food to the animals. Then it was evident to those animals that this king is going to die. Out of the party of animals first a cock says, 'His majesty our king is going to be lost. We don't want the food. We shall not receive assistance. Unless his majesty the king perish thus we shall not perish. In submission to me there are many hens. When I have called them the hens come. When I have told them to eat they eat. When I have told them to go they go. The king, having become submissive in that manner to the thing that his wife has said, is going to die.' The king having heard it, laughed at it also. Then, also, the royal queen asked, 'What did you laugh at?' Thereupon, not saying the [true] word, the king said, 'Thinking of constructing a tank, I laughed.' Then the queen said, 'Having caused the animals that are in this Lankawa (Ceylon) to be brought, let us build a tank.' Then the king having said, 'It is good,' caused the animals to be brought. The king having gone with the animals, showed them a place [in which] to build a tank; and telling them to build it came away. The animals, at the king's command being unable to do anything, all together began to struggle on the mound of earth. Those which can take earth in the mouth take it in the mouth. All work in this manner. The jackal, not doing work, having bounded away remained looking on. After three or four days, the king having gone [there] trickishly stayed looking on. The king saw that the other animals are all moving about as though working. The jackal, only, having bounded off is looking on. Having seen it he asked the jackal, 'The others are all working. Thou, only, art looking upward. Why?' Thereupon the jackal said, 'No, O lord, I looked into an account.' Then the king asked, 'What account art thou looking at?' The jackal says, 'I looked whether in this country the female3s are in excess or the males are in excess.' The king asked, 'By the account which thou knowest, are the females in excess or the males in excess?' The jackal said, 'So far as I can perceive, the females are in excess in this country.' Then the king said that men are in excess. Having said it the king said, 'I myself having gone home and looked at the books, if males are in excess I shall give thee a good punishment.' The king having come home and looked at the books, it appeared that the males were in excess. Thereupon the king called the jackal, and said, 'Bola, males are in excess.' Then the jackal says, 'No, O lord, your majesty, they are not as many as the females. Having also put down to the female account the males who hearken to the things that females say, after they counted them the females would be in excess.' Then the jackal said, 'Are the animals able to build tanks? How shall they carry the earth?' Thereupon the king having considered it, and having said, 'Wild animals, wild animals, you are to go to the midst of the forest,' came home. At that time, the queen asked, 'Is the tank built and finished?' Then the king, taking a cane, began to beat the queen. Thereupon the queen, having said, 'Ané! O lord, your majesty, I will never again say anything, or even ask anything,' began to cry aloud. The king got to know that the jackal was a wise animal. Western Province.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The Language of Animals (Bulgaria),Bulgaria,NA,"A. H. Wratislaw, transl. Sixty Folk-Tales of from Exclusively Slavonoc Sources (London: Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 39, pp. 199-203.","When the serpent saw him, it screamed, 'Dear shepherd, do a good action; take me out of this fire.' The shepherd took pity on its words, and reached it his crook, and it crawled out upon it. When it had crawled out, it coiled itself round his neck. When the shepherd saw this, he was frightened, and said, 'Indeed you are a wretch! Is that the way you are going to thank me for rescuing you? So runs the proverb: 'Do good, and find evil.'' The serpent answered him, 'Don't fear. I shall do you no harm. Only carry me to my father; my father is the emperor of the serpents.' The shepherd begged pardon, and excused himself, 'I can't carry you to your father, because I have no one to leave in charge of my sheep.' The serpent said to him, 'Don't fear for your sheep; nothing will happen to them. Only carry me to my father, and go quickly.' Then there was no help for it, so he started with it over the hill. When he came to a door, which was formed of nothing but serpents intertwined, and went up to it, the serpent which was coiled round his neck gave a whistle, and the serpents, which had twined themselves into the form of a door, immediately untwined, and made way for them to enter. As the shepherd and the serpent entered the palace, the serpent called to the shepherd, 'Stop! Let me tell you something: when you come into my father's palace, he will promise you what you desire, silver and gold; but don't you accept anything, only ask him to give you such a tongue that you will be able to understand all animals. He will not give you this readily, but at last grant it you he will.' The shepherd went with it into its father's palace, and its father, on seeing it, shed tears, and asked it, 'Hey, my son, where have you been till now?' It replied, and told him everything in order: what had taken place, and how it had taken place, and how the shepherd had rescued it. Then the emperor of the serpents turned to the shepherd, and said to him, 'Come, my son, what do you wish me to give you in recompense for rescuing my child?' The shepherd replied to him, 'Nothing else, only give me such a tongue that I can understand all animals.' The emperor of the serpents said to him, 'That is not a proper gift for you, my son, because, if I give you anything of the kind, you will betray yourself in somebody's presence by boasting of it, and then you will die immediately. Ask something else.' The shepherd replied to him, 'I wish for nothing else. If you will give it me, give it; if not, farewell!' He turned to go; but the emperor of the serpents cried out, 'Stay! Return! If you ask this, come, that I may give it you. Open your mouth.' The shepherd opened his mouth, and the emperor of the serpents spat into it, and told him to spit also into his mouth. And thus they spat thrice into each other's mouths. When this was done, the emperor of the serpents said to the shepherd, 'Now you have the tongue which you desired. Go, and farewell! But it is not permitted you to tell anybody, because, if you do, you will die. I am telling you the truth.' The shepherd then departed. As he went over the hill, he understood the conversation of the birds, and, so to speak, of everything in the world. When he came to his sheep, he found them correct in number, and sat down to rest. But scarcely had he lain down, when two crows flew up, perched on a tree hard by him, and began to converse in their language, 'If that shepherd knew that just where that black lamb lies a vault full of silver and gold is buried in the ground, he would take its contents.' When he heard this, he went and told his master, and he brought a cart, and they broke open the door of the vault, and took out its valuable contents. His master was a righteous man, and said to him, 'Well, my son, this is all yours; the Lord has given it you. Go, provide a house, get married, and live comfortably.' The shepherd took the property, went away, provided a house, got married, and lived very comfortably. This shepherd, after a little time, became so rich and prosperous that there was nobody richer than he in his own or the neighboring villages. He had shepherds, cowherds, swineherds, grooms, and everything on a handsome scale. Once upon a time this shepherd ordered his wife on New Year's Eve to provide wine, brandy, and everything requisite, and to go the next morning to his cattle, to take the provisions to the herdsmen, that they, too, might enjoy themselves. His wife obeyed him, and did as her husband ordered her. The next day they got up, got ready, and went. When they arrived where the cattle were, the master said to his shepherds, 'Lads, assemble together, and sit down to eat and drink your fill, and I will watch the cattle tonight.' This was done; they assembled together, and he went out to sleep by the cattle. In the course of the night, after some time, the wolves began to howl and speak in their language, and the dogs to bark and speak in theirs. The wolves said, 'Can we capture any young cattle?' The dogs answered in their language, 'Come in, that we, too, may eat our fill of flesh.' But among the dogs there was one old dog, who had only two teeth left. This dog spoke and answered the wolves, 'In faith, as long as these two teeth of mine last, you shan't come near to do harm to my master.' In the morning, when it dawned, the master called the herdsmen, and told them to kill all the dogs except that old one. His servants began to implore him, 'Don't, master! Why? It's a sin.' But he said to them, 'Do just as I ordered you, and not otherwise.' Then he and his wife mounted their horses and went off. His wife rode a mare, and he a horse. As they went, the master's horse outstripped the wife's mare, and began to say to her in their language, 'Go quicker. Why do you hang back?' The mare's reply in defense of her lagging pace was so amusing that the man laughed out loud, turned his head, and looked behind him with a smile. His wife observed him smiling, whipped her mare to catch him up, and then asked him to tell her why he smiled. He said to her, 'Well, suppose I did? Something came into my head.' This answer did not satisfy her, but she began to worry him to tell her why he smiled. He said this and that to her to get out of it, but the more he said to get out of it, the more did she worry him. At length he said to her that, if he told her, he would die immediately. But she had no dread of her husband's dying, and went on worrying him: 'There is no alternative, but tell me you must.' When they got home, they dismounted from their horses, and as soon as they had done so, her husband ordered a grave to be dug for him. It was dug, and he lay down in it, and said to his wife, 'Did you not press me to tell you why I smiled? Come now, that I may tell you; but I shall die immediately.' On saying this, he gave one more look round him, and observed that the old dog had come from the cattle. Seeing this, he told his wife to give him a piece of bread. She gave it him, but the dog would not even look at it, but shed tears and wept. But the cock, seeing it, ran up and began to peck it. The dog was angry, and said, 'As if you'd die hungry! Don't you see that our master is going to die?' 'What a fool he is! Let him die! Whose fault is it? I have a hundred wives. When I find a grain of millet, I call them all to me, and finally eat it myself. If one of them gets cross at this, I give her one or two pecks, and she lowers her tail. But this man isn't equal to keeping one in order.' When the man heard the cock say this, he jumped up at once out of the grave, seized a stick, chased his wife over hill and dale, and at last settled her completely, so that it never entered her head any more to ask him why he smiled.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The Language of Animals (Jataka),"from The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births",NA,"The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births (Cambridge: The Cambridge University Press, 1897), no. 386, vol. 3. pp. 174-77. Translated from the Pali by H. T. Francis and R. A. Neil.","Once upon a time when a king named Senaka was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was Sakka. The king Senaka was friendly with a certain naga king. This naga king, they say, left the naga world and ranged the earth seeking food. The village boys seeing him said, 'This is a snake,' and struck him with clods and other things. The king, going to amuse himself in his garden, saw them, and being told they were beating a snake, said, 'Don't let them beat him. Drive them away.' And this was done. So the naga king got his life, and when he went back to the naga world. He took many jewels, and coming at midnight to the king's bedchamber he gave them to him, saying, 'I got my life through you.' So he made friendship with the king and came again and again to see him. He appointed one of his naga girls, insatiate in pleasures, to be near the king and protect him, and he gave the king a charm, saying, 'If ever you do not see her, repeat this charm.' One day the king went to the garden with the naga girl and was amusing himself in the lotus tank. The naga girl seeing a water snake quitted her human shape and made love with him. The king not seeing the girl said, 'Where is she gone?' and repeated the spell. Then he saw her in her misconduct and struck her with a piece of bamboo. She went in anger to the naga world, and when she was asked, 'Why are you come?' she said, 'Your friend struck me on the back because I did not do his bidding,' showing the mark of the blow. The naga king, not knowing the truth, called four naga youths and sent them with orders to enter Senaka's bedchamber and destroy him like chaff by the breath of their nostrils. They entered the chamber at the royal bedtime. As they came in, the king was saying to the queen, 'Lady, do you know where the naga girl has gone?' 'King, I do not.' 'Today when we were bathing in the tank, she quitted her shape and misconducted herself with a water snake. I said, 'Don't do that,' and struck her with a piece of bamboo to give her a lesson. And now I fear she may have gone to the naga world and told some lie to my friend, destroying his goodwill to me.' The young nagas hearing this turned back at once to the naga world and told their king. He being moved went instantly to the king's chamber, told him all and was forgiven. Then he said, 'In this way I make amends,' and gave the king a charm giving knowledge of all sounds. 'This, O king, is a priceless spell. If you give anyone this spell you will at once enter the fire and die.' The king said, 'It is well,' and accepted it. From that time he understood the voice even of ants. One day he was sitting on the dais eating solid food with honey and molasses, and a drop of honey, a drop of molasses, and a morsel of cake fell on the ground. An ant seeing this comes crying, 'The king's honey jar is broken on the dais, his molasses cart and cake cart are upset. Come and eat honey and molasses and cake.' The king hearing the cry laughed. The queen being near him thought, 'What has the king seen that he laughs?' When the king had eaten his solid food and bathed and sat down cross-legged, a fly said to his wife, 'Come, lady, let us enjoy love.' She said, 'Excuse me for a little, husband. They will soon be bringing perfumes to the king. As he perfumes himself some powder will fall at his feet. I will stay there and become fragrant, then we will enjoy ourselves lying on the king's back.' The king hearing the voice laughed again. The queen thought again, 'What has he seen that he laughs?' Again when the king was eating his supper, a lump of rice fell on the ground. The ants cried, 'A wagon of rice has broken in the king's palace, and there is none to eat it.' The king hearing this laughed again. The queen took a golden spoon and helping him reflected, 'Is it at the sight of me that the king laughs?' She went to the bedchamber with the king and at bedtime she asked, 'Why did you laugh, O king?' He said, 'What have you to do with why I laugh?' But being asked again and again her told her. Then she said, 'Give me your spell of knowledge.' He said, 'It cannot be given.' But though repulsed she pressed him again. The king said, 'If I give you this spell, I shall die.' 'Even though you die, give it me.' The king, being in the power of womankind, saying, 'It is well,' consented and went to the park in a chariot, saying, 'I shall enter the fire after giving away this spell.' At that moment Sakka, king of gods, looked down on the earth and seeing this case said, 'This foolish king, knowing that he will enter the fire through womankind, is on the way; I will give him his life.' So he took Suja, daughter of the Asuras, and went to Benares. He became a he-goat and made her a she-goat, and resolving that the people should not see them, he stood before the king's chariot. The king and the Sindh asses yoked in the chariot saw him, but none else saw him. For the sake of starting talk he was as if making love with the she-goat. One of the Sindh asses yoked in the chariot seeing him said, 'Friend goat, we have heard before, but not seen, that goats are stupid and shameless. But you are doing, with all of us looking on, this thing that should be done in secret and in a private place, and are not ashamed. What we have heard before agrees with this that we see.' And so he spoke the first stanza: The goat hearing him spoke two stanzas: When you're loosed, you don't escape, sir, that's a stupid habit too: And that Senaka you carry, he's more stupid still than you. The king understood the talk of both animals, and hearing it he quickly sent away the chariot. The ass hearing the goat's talk spoke the fourth stanza: The goat explaining this spoke the fifth stanza: The king hearing his words said, 'King of goats, you will surely act for my advantage. Tell me now what is right for me to do.' Then the goat said, 'King, to all animals no one is dearer than self. It is not good to destroy oneself and abandon the honor one has gained for the sake of anything that is dear.' So he spoke the sixth stanza: So the Bodhisatta exhorted the king. The king, delighted, asked, 'King of goats, whence come you?' 'I am Sakka, O king, come to save you from death out of pity for you.' 'King of gods, I promised to give her the charm. What am I to do now?' 'There is no need for the ruin of both of you. You say, 'It is the way of the craft,' and have her beaten with some blows. By this means she will not get it.' The king said, 'It is well,' and agreed. The Bodhisatta after exhortation to the king went to Sakka's heaven. The king went to the garden, had the queen summoned and then said, 'Lady, will you have the charm?' 'Yes, lord.' 'Then go through the usual custom.' 'What custom?' 'A hundred stripes on the back, but you must not make a sound.' She consented through greed for the charm. The king made his slaves take whips and beat her on both sides. She endured two or three stripes and then cried, 'I don't want the charm.' The king said, 'You would have killed me to get the charm,' and so flogging the skin off her back he sent her away. After that she could not bear to talk of it again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The Language of Beasts,"Bulgaria, Andrew Lang",NA,"Andrew Lang, The Crimson Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1903), pp. 55-61.","Once upon a time a man had a shepherd who served him many years faithfully and honestly. One day, whilst herding his flock, this shepherd heard a hissing sound, coming out of the forest nearby, which he could not account for. So he went into the wood in the direction of the noise to try to discover the cause. When he approached the place he found that the dry grass and leaves were on fire, and on a tree, surrounded by flames, a snake was coiled, hissing with terror. The shepherd stood wondering how the poor snake could escape, for the wind was blowing the flames that way, and soon that tree would be burning like the rest. Suddenly the snake cried, 'O shepherd! for the love of heaven save me from this fire!' Then the shepherd stretched his staff out over the flames and the snake wound itself round the staff and up to his hand, and from his hand it crept up his arm, and twined itself about his neck. The shepherd trembled with fright, expecting every instant to be stung to death, and said, 'What an unlucky man I am! Did I rescue you only to be destroyed myself?' But the snake answered, 'Have no fear; only carry me home to my father who is the King of the Snakes.' The shepherd, however, was much too frightened to listen, and said that he could not go away and leave his flock alone; but the snake said, 'You need not be afraid to leave your flock, no evil shall befall them; but make all the haste you can.' So he set off through the wood carrying the snake, and after a time he came to a great gateway, made entirely of snakes intertwined one with another. The shepherd stood still with surprise, but the snake round his neck whistled, and immediately all the arch unwound itself. 'When we are come to my father's house,' said his own snake to him, 'he will reward you with anything you like to ask -- silver, gold, jewels, or whatever on this earth is most precious; but take none of all these things, ask rather to understand the language of beasts. He will refuse it to you a long time, but in the end he will grant it to you.' Soon after that they arrived at the house of the King of the Snakes, who burst into tears of joy at the sight of his daughter, as he had given her up for dead. 'Where have you been all this time?' he asked, directly he could speak, and she told him that she had been caught in a forest fire, and had been rescued from the flames by the shepherd. The King of the Snakes, then turning to the shepherd, said to him, 'What reward will you choose for saving my child?' 'Make me to know the language of beasts,' answered the shepherd, 'that is all I desire.' The king replied, 'Such knowledge would be of no benefit to you, for if I granted it to you and you told any one of it, you would immediately die; ask me rather for whatever else you would most like to possess, and it shall be yours.' But the shepherd answered him, 'Sir, if you wish to reward me for saving your daughter, grant me, I pray you, to know the language of beasts. I desire nothing else'; and he turned as if to depart. Then the king called him back, saying, 'If nothing else will satisfy you, open your mouth.' The man obeyed, and the king spat into it, and said, 'Now spit into my mouth.' The shepherd did as he was told, then the King of the Snakes spat again into the shepherd's mouth. When they had spat into each other's mouths three times, the king said, 'Now you know the language of beasts, go in peace; but, if you value your life, beware lest you tell anyone of it, else you will immediately die.' So the shepherd set out for home, and on his way through the wood he heard and understood all that was said by the birds, and by every living creature. When he got back to his sheep he found the flock grazing peacefully, and as he was very tired he laid himself down by them to rest a little. Hardly had he done so when two ravens flew down and perched on a tree nearby, and began to talk to each other in their own language, 'If that shepherd only knew that there is a vault full of gold and silver beneath where that lamb is lying, what would he not do?' When the shepherd heard these words he went straight to his master and told him, and the master at once took a wagon, and broke open the door of the vault, and they carried off the treasure. But instead of keeping it for himself, the master, who was an honorable man, gave it all up to the shepherd, saying, 'Take it, it is yours. The gods have given it to you.' So the shepherd took the treasure and built himself a house. He married a wife, and they lived in great peace and happiness, and he was acknowledged to be the richest man, not only of his native village, but of all the countryside. He had flocks of sheep, and cattle, and horses without end, as well as beautiful clothes and jewels. One day, just before Christmas, he said to his wife, 'Prepare everything for a great feast, tomorrow we will take things with us to the farm that the shepherds there may make merry.' The wife obeyed, and all was prepared as he desired. Next day they both went to the farm, and in the evening the master said to the shepherds, 'Now come, all of you, eat, drink, and make merry. I will watch the flocks myself tonight in your stead.' Then he went out to spend the night with the flocks. When midnight struck the wolves howled and the dogs barked, and the wolves spoke in their own tongue, saying, 'Shall we come in and work havoc, and you too shall eat flesh?' And the dogs answered in their tongue, 'Come in, and for once we shall have enough to eat.' Now amongst the dogs there was one so old that he had only two teeth left in his head, and he spoke to the wolves, saying, 'So long as I have my two teeth still in my head, I will let no harm be done to my master.' All this the master heard and understood, and as soon as morning dawned he ordered all the dogs to be killed excepting the old dog. The farm servants wondered at this order, and exclaimed, 'But surely, sir, that would be a pity?' The master answered, 'Do as I bid you'; and made ready to return home with his wife, and they mounted their horses, her steed being a mare. As they went on their way, it happened that the husband rode on ahead, while the wife was a little way behind. The husband's horse, seeing this, neighed, and said to the mare, 'Come along, make haste; why are you so slow?' And the mare answered, 'It is very easy for you, you carry only your master, who is a thin man, but I carry my mistress, who is so fat that she weights as much as three.' When the husband heard that he looked back and laughed, which the wife perceiving, she urged on the mare till she caught up with her husband, and asked him why he laughed. 'For nothing at all,' he answered; 'just because it came into my head.' She would not be satisfied with this answer, and urged him more and more to tell her why he had laughed. But he controlled himself and said, 'Let me be, wife; what ails you? I do not know myself why I laughed.' But the more he put her off, the more she tormented him to tell her the cause of his laughter. At length he said to her, 'Know, then, that if I tell it you I shall immediately and surely die.' But even this did not quiet her; she only besought him the more to tell her. Meanwhile they had reached home, and before getting down from his horse the man called for a coffin to be brought; and when it was there he placed it in front of the house, and said to his wife, 'See, I will lay myself down in this coffin, and will then tell you why I laughed, for as soon as I have told you I shall surely die.' So he lay down in the coffin, and while he took a last look around him, his old dog came out from the farm and sat down by him, and whined. When the master saw this, he called to his wife, 'Bring a piece of bread to give to the dog.' The wife brought some bread and threw it to the dog, but he would not look at it. Then the farm cock came and pecked at the bread; but the dog said to it, 'Wretched glutton, you can eat like that when you see that your master is dying?' The cock answered, 'Let him die, if he is so stupid. I have a hundred wives, which I call together when I find a grain of corn, and as soon as they are there I swallow it myself; should one of them dare to be angry, I would give her a lesson with my beak. He has only one wife, and he cannot keep her in order.' As soon as the man understood this, he got up out of the coffin, seized a stick, and called his wife into the room, saying, 'Come, and I will tell you what you so much want to know'; and then he began to beat her with the stick, saying with each blow, 'It is that, wife, it is that!' And in this way he taught her never again to ask why he had laughed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The Merchant Who Knew the Language of Beasts,Palestine,"This story, like its counterpart from The 1001 Nights printed above, combines folktale types 207A (the bull and the ass) and 670 (the man who understood the language of animals).","J. E. Hanauer, Folk-Lore of the Holy Land: Moslem, Christian and Jewish, edited by Marmaduke Pickthall (London: Duckworth and Company, 1907), pp. 258-60.","There was once a merchant who knew the language of beasts. But this knowledge had been granted him only upon condition that, if he told the secrets learnt by its means, he should instantly die. No one, not even his wife, was aware that he was gifted beyond the common. One evening, standing near his stables, he heard an ox, which had just returned from plowing, complaining bitterly of his hard labor, and asking the ass on which the merchant rode to business how he might lighten it. The ass advised him to be very ill, to leave his food untouched and roll on the ground in pain when the plowman came to take him to the field. The ox took this advice, and next day his master was told he was too ill to work. The merchant prescribed rest and extra food for the ox, and ordered that the donkey, which was strong and fat, should be yoked to the plow in his place. That evening the merchant stood again by the stable, listening. When the ass came in from plowing, the ox thanked him for his advice, and expressed his intention to act upon it again next morning. 'I don't advise you to do that,' said the ass, 'if you value your life. Today while I was plowing, your master came and told the plowman to take you to the butcher's tomorrow, as you seemed ailing, and have you killed to save your life. For should you sicken and die, he would lose the value of your carcass.' 'What shall I do?' cried the ox in terror. 'Be well and strong tomorrow morning,' said the ass. At that the merchant, unaware that his wife stood near him, laughed aloud, and excited her curiosity. His evasive answers only made her more inquisitive; and when he absolutely refused to satisfy her, she lost her temper, and went to complain of him to her relations, who soon threatened him with a divorce. The poor man, who really loved his wife, in despair resolved to tell her all and die. So he put his affairs in order, made his will, and promised to content her on the morrow. Next morning, at a window overlooking the stable yard, where the cock was gallanting with a number of hens, he heard his watchdog reprove the bird for such light conduct on a day of grief. 'Why! What is the matter?' inquired the cock. The dog told the story of their master's trouble, when the cock exclaimed, 'Our master is a fool. He cannot keep one wife in order while I have no trouble with twenty. He has only to take a stick and give his mistress a sound thrashing to make her amiable.' These words came as light to the merchant's gloom. Forthwith he called his wife into an inner room, and there chastised her within an inch of her life. And from that hour she gave him no more trouble. This story, like its counterpart from The 1001 Nights printed above, combines folktale types 207A (the bull and the ass) and 670 (the man who understood the language of animals).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The Snake's Gift: Language of Animals,Serbia,"Link to another version of this tale: Parker Fillmore, 'Lord and Master: The Story of the Man Who Understood the Language of Animals,' The Laughing Prince: A Book of Jugoslav Fairy Tales and Folk Tales (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1921), pp. 253-66.","Csedomille Mijatovies, Serbian Folk-Lore (London: W. Isbister and Company, 1874), pp. 37-42.","Once upon a time there lived a shepherd who served his master faithfully and honestly. One day whilst keeping the sheep in the forest, he heard a hissing, and wondered what the noise could be. So he went farther into the wood to try and find out. There he saw that the forest was on fire, and a snake was hissing in the midst of the flames. The shepherd watched to see what the snake would do, for it was quite surrounded by the fire, which approached it nearer and nearer. Then the snake cried out, 'For God's sake, good shepherd, save me from the fire!' So the shepherd stretched his crook across the flames and the snake glided rapidly over the staff and up his arm onto his shoulder, till at last it wound itself round his neck. Then the shepherd was terrified and exclaimed, 'What shall I do? What an unlucky wretch I am! I saved you, and now your are about to kill me!' The snake answered, 'Do not be afraid. Only take me to the house of my father. My father is the king of snakes.' But the shepherd, being already in great fear, began to excuse himself, saying he must not leave his sheep. Then the snake said, 'Nothing will happen to your sheep. Do not be anxious about them. But let us hurry home.' So the shepherd went on with the snake through the forest, until they came to a gate made entirely of snakes. Then the snake on the neck of the shepherd hissed, and instantly the snakes untwined themselves, so that the man could pass through. As soon as they had gone through, the snake said to him, 'When you reach my father's house he will offer to give you whatever you like -- gold, silver, or precious stones. Do not, however, take any of these things. Choose, instead, the language of animals. He will hesitate at first, but at last he will give it you.' Meanwhile they arrived at the palace, and the king of snakes said, weeping, 'For God's sake, my child, where were you?' Thereupon the snake told him all that had happened, how he had been surrounded by fire, and the shepherd had saved him. Then the snake king said to the shepherd, 'What do you wish that I should give you for saving my son?' The shepherd answered, 'I desire nothing but the language of animals.' The snake king, however, said, 'That is not good for you, for if I give it you, and you tell anyone about it, you will instantly die. Therefore it is better that you ask me for something else.' 'If you wish to give me anything,' replied the shepherd, 'give me the language of animals. If you will not give me that, I want nothing -- so good-bye,' and he turned to go away. Then the snake king called him back, saying, 'If you indeed wish it so much, take it. Open your mouth.' The shepherd did so, and the snake king blew into his mouth, and said, 'Now blow once yourself in my mouth.' The Shepherd did so, and then the snake king blew again into his mouth, and this they did three times. After that the snake said, 'Now you possess the language of animals. Go, in God's name, but do not for the world tell anyone about it. If you tell anyone you will instantly die.' The shepherd returned across the forest, and, passing through it, he understood everything the birds and animals, and even the plants were saying to each other. When he came to his sheep he found them all there, safe and sound, so he laid himself down to rest a little. Hardly had he done so before two or three ravens settled on a tree near him, and began to converse together, saying, 'If that shepherd only knew that just on the spot where the black sheep is lying there is, deep in the earth, a cave full of gold and silver!' When the shepherd heard that he went off to his master and told him. The master brought a cart, and dug down to the cave, and carried the treasure away home. But the master was honest, so he gave up the whole of the treasure to the shepherd, saying, 'Here my son, all this wealth belongs to you. For to you God gave it. Build a house, marry, and live upon the treasure.' So the shepherd took the money, built a house, and married, and by and by he became the richest man in the whole neighborhood. He kept his own shepherd, and cattle driver, and swineherd. In short, he had great property and made much money. Once, just at Christmas, he said to his wife, 'Get ready some wine and other food, and tomorrow we will feast the shepherds.' The wife did so, and in the morning they went to their farm. Towards evening the master said to the shepherds, 'Come here, all of you. You shall eat, drink, and make merry together, and I will go myself this night to watch the sheep.' So the master went to watch his sheep, and, about midnight, the wolves began to howl and the dogs to bark. The wolves spoke, in wolf language, 'May we come and take something? You also, shall get a part of the prey.' And the dogs answered, in dog language, 'Come! We also are ready to eat something.' But there was one old dog there who had only two teeth left. This old dog shouted furiously, 'Come on, you miserable wretches, if you dare. So long as I have these two teeth left you shall not do any damage to my master's property.' All this the master heard and understood. Next day he ordered all the dogs to be killed except that old one. The servants began to remonstrate, saying, 'For God's sake, master, it is a pity to do this.' But the master answered, 'Do as I have ordered you,' and started with his wife to go home. They rode on horseback, he on a fine horse and his wife on a handsome mare. But the master's horse went so fast that the wife remained a little behind. Then the master's horse neighed, and said to the mare, 'Come on, why do you stay behind?' And the mare answered, 'Ah, to you it is easy -- you are carrying only one weight, and I am carrying three.' Thereupon the man turned his head and laughed. The wife saw him laughing, and urged the mare on quicker till she came up to her husband, and asked him, 'Why were you laughing?' He said merely, 'I had good reason to laugh!' But the wife was not satisfied, and again begged he would tell her why he laughed. He excused himself, exclaiming, 'Give up questioning me. What has come to you, my wife? I forget now why it was I laughed.' But the more he refused to tell her, the more she wished to know. At last the man said, 'If I tell you I shall die immediately!' That, however, did not quiet her, and she kept on asking, saying to him, 'You must tell me.' In the meantime they reached their house. When they had done so the man ordered a coffin to be made, and, when it was ready, had it placed in front of the house, and laid himself down in it. Then he said to his wife, 'Now I will tell you why I laughed, but the moment I tell you I shall So he looked around once more, and saw that the old dog had come from the field, and had taken his stand over his head, and was howling. When the man noticed this he said to his wife, 'Bring a piece of bread for this poor dog.' The wife brought a piece and threw it to the dog, but the dog did not even look at it, and a cock came near and began to peck at it. Then the dog said to the cock, 'You think only about eating. Do you know that our master is going to die?' And the cock answered, 'Well, let him die, since he is so stupid. I have a hundred wives, and often at nights I gather them all round a grain of corn, and, when they are all there, I pick it up myself. If any of them are angry, I peck them. That is my way of keeping them quiet. Only look at the master, however. He is not able to rule one single wife!' The man, hearing that, got out of the coffin, took a stick, and called his wife to him, saying, 'Come now, and I will tell you what you want to know.' The wife, seeing she was in danger of getting a beating, left him in peace, and never asked him again why it was he laughed. Isbister and Company, 1874), pp. 37-42.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,The Wicked Wife,Germany Germany,"Kuhn's source: 'Oral, from Gross-Kreutz near Brandenburg.' Kuhn's source: 'Oral, from Gross-Kreutz near Brandenburg.'","Adalbert Kuhn, 'Die böse Frau,' Märkische Sagen und Märchen nebst einem Anhange von Gebräuchen und Aberglauben (Berlin: Druck und Verlag von G. Reimer, 1843), pp. 268-70. Source: Adalbert Kuhn, 'Die böse Frau,' Märkische Sagen und Märchen nebst einem Anhange von Gebräuchen und Aberglauben (Berlin: Druck und Verlag von G. Reimer, 1843), pp. 268-70.","Now one day he was listening to the animals in his farmyard when one of them said something funny, and he laughed out loud. His wife observed this, and she insisted that he tell her why he had laughed, for she was very curious. He would have liked to tell her, in order to keep her quiet, but he was not allowed to, for it would have cost him his life. Therefore he refused, and she became all the more impatient and angry heaping many curses and accusations upon him and saying that he always kept secrets from her. Thus it continued from one day to the next. This saddened the man so much that he walked around with his head sunk in sorrow trying to think of a way to change the situation. He wandered into the farmyard and saw how the rooster was happily strutting about while loudly calling out 'cock-a-doodle-doo.' However, the dog was quite still until he said to the rooster, 'How can you be so cheerful while our master is so sad because of his wicked wife who will give him no peace?' The rooster replied, 'I think that he could change things if he would only take an example from me. I have more than a hundred wives, and woe be unto any one of them who does not obey me. I would immediately peck her eyes out of her head. He has only the one wife and is unable to deal with her.' The man heard all this with pleasure, for he saw that the rooster was right. Therefore he immediately went into his house, picked up a whip and began to beat his wife with it, all the time asking her if she still wanted to know why he had laughed. She finally gave in, and never again, as long as she lived, did she ask to know her husband's secrets. From then on they lived happily and contented until they died. Now one day he was listening to the animals in his farmyard when one of them said something funny, and he laughed out loud. His wife observed this, and she insisted that he tell her why he had laughed, for she was very curious. He would have liked to tell her, in order to keep her quiet, but he was not allowed to, for it would have cost him his life. Therefore he refused, and she became all the more impatient and angry heaping many curses and accusations upon him and saying that he always kept secrets from her. Thus it continued from one day to the next. This saddened the man so much that he walked around with his head sunk in sorrow trying to think of a way to change the situation. He wandered into the farmyard and saw how the rooster was happily strutting about while loudly calling out 'cock-a-doodle-doo.' However, the dog was quite still until he said to the rooster, 'How can you be so cheerful while our master is so sad because of his wicked wife who will give him no peace?' The rooster replied, 'I think that he could change things if he would only take an example from me. I have more than a hundred wives, and woe be unto any one of them who does not obey me. I would immediately peck her eyes out of her head. He has only the one wife and is unable to deal with her.' The man heard all this with pleasure, for he saw that the rooster was right. Therefore he immediately went into his house, picked up a whip and began to beat his wife with it, all the time asking her if she still wanted to know why he had laughed. She finally gave in, and never again, as long as she lived, did she ask to know her husband's secrets. From then on they lived happily and contented until they died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
670,Woman's Curiosity,Hungary,NA,"Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, transl. The Folk-Tales of the Magyars, Collected by Kriza, Erdély, Pap, and Others (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), pp. 301-302.","A shepherd saved the life of the daughter of the king of snakes, the princess narrowly escaping being burnt to death. To show him her gratitude she taught him the language of animals, and he was able to understand them. One day his donkey said something that made him smile; whereupon his wife commenced to tease him, and wanted to know the joke, but the shepherd was unable to gratify her wish, as his betraying the secret would have immediately been followed by the penalty of sudden death. However the wife would not give in and leave him in peace, but continued to torment her husband with so many questions that he at last determined to die rather than to bear his wife's ill temper any longer. With this view he had his coffin made and brought to his house; he laid down in the coffin quite prepared for death and ready to divulge the secret. His faithful dog sat mournfully by his side watching, while the cock belonging to the house merrily hopped about in the room. The dog remonstrated with the cock and said that this was not the time for merriment, seeing how near their master was to death. But the cock replied quite curtly, 'It's master's own fault! Why is he such a great fool and coward? Look at me! I have fifty wives, and they all do as I tell them to do! If I can get on with so many, surely he ought to be able to manage one!' Hearing this the shepherd jumped out of the coffin, seized a wet rope end and gave the woman a sound thrashing. Peace was restored, and they lived happily together ever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,Brother Rabbit Conquers Brother Lion,African American,NA,NA,"There was a time when Brer Lion was sort of playing overseer with the other creatures. It seems like he got the idea that all of them had to pay him a toll, because he was the strongest and the most ferocious. He claimed one out of every family: one sheep from the sheep, one goat from the goats, and one from all the kinds. By and by, after a long time, he sent word to Brer Rabbit that his turn had come, and Brer Rabbit sent back word that everything was all right. Of course this made old Mrs. Rabbit and the children feel mighty bad. The children sat around whimpering and sniffling, and old Mrs. Rabbit went about crying and wiping her eyes on her apron. But Brer Rabbit, he sat up and smoked his cigar and told them to quit worrying and to learn how to not be afraid. He said, 'Old woman, if I'm not back by suppertime, just set my vittles down there on the hearth so they'll keep sort of warm.' Old Mrs. Rabbit said that instead of wanting vittles, he'd be vittles himself, and then she sniffled worse and worse. But Brer Rabbit just hooted at her, and then he took down his walking cane and set out to see Brer Lion. The little rabbits hollered out, 'Good-bye, daddy!' and Brer Rabbit hollered back, 'So long!' Old Mrs. Rabbit looked after him, she did, and then she flung her apron over her head and just boo-hooed. But Brer Rabbit marched down the road as happy if he were going to a frolic. He marched on, he did, and just before he got to the place where old Brer Lion stayed, he hid his walking cane in the fence corner, rumpled up his hair, and drew himself in until he looked like he wasn't any bigger than a pound of soap after a hard day's washing. Then he went where there was a big, deep spring a little piece away from the road, and he looked at himself in the water. He sort of pulled back his ears and made himself look topsy-turvy, and then he closed one eye and shook his fist at his reflection in the water. He went back to the big road, he did, and crept along like he was ailing -- limping first on one foot and then on the other one, and by and by he came to the place where old Brer Lion was staying. Brer Rabbit sort of dragged himself along and made a bow. Brer Lion looked at him sideways and asked him where he was going. Brer Rabbit said he was all the more willing to come, became it was his turn, and he had been feeling poorly for a long time. He talked mighty weak and trembly. Brer Lion looked at him closely and said, 'You won't make a mouthful. It's time that I eat you. I'm just getting good and hungry.' Brer Rabbit said, 'Yes, sir. I know I'm not fat, and I suspect I have lots of fleas on me, but I'm mighty willing. I've got a bad cough, and I'm tired of being sick. I'm just about as fat as the mule the man had, and he had to tie a knot in its tail to keep it from slipping through the collar.' Brer Lion looked at him and thought that Brer Rabbit was so scared he was talking weaker and weaker. Brer Rabbit said, 'While I was coming along just now I saw a creature that was almost as big and fat as you are, and I said to myself that I wished to goodness that I was as fat as he was, so Brer Lion could have a good dinner.' Brer Lion said, 'Who was he?' Brer Rabbit said, 'I didn't ask him his name. He refused to respond to my howdy, and he looked so ferocious that I got out of there.' Brer Lion said, 'Come, show me where he is.' Brer Rabbit said, 'I'd do it in a minute, Brer Lion, but I'm afraid he'll hurt you.' Brer Lion sort of bristled up at that. He said, 'Hurt whom? Come on and go with me to where he is, and I'll show you who'll get hurt, and that in short order!' Brer Rabbit shook his head. He said, 'You'd better eat me, Brer Lion. I'm not much, but I'm something, and that other creature that I saw will surely hurt you. He's got claws and he's got teeth, because I saw them. Don't go where he is, Brer Lion, if you have any friendly feelings for your family. That creature will surely cripple you!' This made Brer Lion mighty mad. He said, 'Get right into the road and show me where he is!' Brer Rabbit said, 'Well, if I need to go, Brer Lion, I'll go. I told you so, and that's all I can do.' They went on, they did, and Brer Rabbit took Brer Lion to the spring. When they got there, Brer Rabbit looked around and said, 'He was right around here somewhere, and he's not so mighty far off now, because I feel it in my bones.' Then he crept up, he did, and looked into the spring. As he did this, he let out a yell and jumped back. 'Ouch, Brer Lion! He's in there! Let's run! He'll get us for sure!' Brer Lion walked up to the spring and looked in. Sure enough, there was a big creature looking back at him. Brer Lion hollered at him. The creature in the spring didn't say anything. Brer Lion shook his head. The creature shook his. Brer Lion showed his teeth. The creature grinned at him. They kept on this way until by and by Brer Lion got so mad that he jumped into the spring head foremost. When he was in there, he couldn't get out again, and so there he was, strangled with water and drowned for the want of sense and breath. Brer Rabbit capered around there some little time, and then he put out for home, and when he got there, he took his children on his knee and told them a mighty tale about how he made out with old Brer Lion.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,Lion Brooks No Rival,African-American,NA,NA,"So finally he came across a well. The thought came to him as he looked into the well, he saw his shader, he had a scheme to fool the lion. He had been told by the other animals that any way he could get rid of the lion, they would pay him, give him praise of being the wisest animal of the forest. He entered the lion's room pretendin' he had been runnin', doin' all he could to get there on time. The lion asked him why he was so late. The rabbit began to tell him the story why he was so late. So he tol' the lion, if he didn' believe what he had tol' him, to follow him, and he would show him. So the lion went with the rabbit to the well. The rabbit tol' the lion to get up on the curb of the well and look down into the well, and he would see what had delayed him. So he did. When he looked into the water, he saw another face, not knowing that it was himself. He frowned, he grit his teeth, and the other lion did the same thing. The lion on top, thinking that he was master of all the beasts of the forest, jumped into the well, and that was the last of the lion. And the rabbit got the praise of being the wisest beast of the forest. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,Singh Rajah and the Cunning Little Jackals,India,NA,NA,"Once upon a time, in a great jungle, there lived a great lion. He was rajah of all the country round; and every day he used to leave his den, in the deepest shadow of the rocks, and roar with a loud, angry voice. And when he roared, the other animals in the jungle, who were all his subjects, got very much frightened, and ran here and there. And Singh Rajah [Lion King] would pounce upon them, and kill them, and gobble them up for his dinner. This went on for a long, long time, until, at last, there were no living creatures left in the jungle but two little jackals, a rajah jackal and a ranee jackal, husband and wife. A very hard time of it the poor little jackals had, running this way and that to escape the terrible Singh Rajah. And every day the little ranee jackal would say to her husband, 'I am afraid he will catch us today. Do you hear how he is roaring? Oh dear, oh dear!' And he would answer her, 'Never fear. I will take care of you. Let us run on a mile or two. Come, come, -- quick, quick, quick!' And they would both run away as fast as they could. After some time spent in this way, they found, however, one fine day, that the lion was so close upon them that they could not escape. Then the little ranee jackal said, 'Husband, husband! I feel very frightened. The Singh Rajah is so angry he will certainly kill us at once. What can we do?' But he answered, 'Cheer up. We can save ourselves yet. Come, and I'll show you how we may manage it.' So what did these cunning little jackals do, but they went to the great lion's den; and when he saw them coming, he began to roar and shake his mane, and he said, 'You little wretches, come and be eaten at once! I have had no dinner for three whole days, and all that time I have been running over hill and dale to find you. Ro-a-ar! Ro-a-ar! Come and be eaten, I say!' And he lashed his tail and gnashed his teeth, and looked very terrible indeed. Then the jackal rajah, creeping quite close up to him, said, 'O great Singh Rajah, we all know you are our master, and we would have come at your bidding long ago; but indeed, sir, there is a much bigger rajah even than you in this jungle, and he tried to catch hold of us and eat us up, and frightened us so much that we were obliged to run away.' 'What do you mean?' growled Singh Rajah. 'There is no king in this jungle but me!' 'Ah, sire,' answered the jackal, 'in truth one would think so, for you are very dreadful. Your very voice is death. But it is as we say, for we, with our own eyes, have seen one with whom you could not compete; whose equal you can no more be than we are yours; whose face is as flaming fire, his step as thunder, and his power supreme.' 'It is impossible!' interrupted the old lion. 'But show me this rajah of whom you speak so much, that I may destroy him instantly!' Then the little jackals ran on before him until they reached a great well, and, pointing down to his own reflection in the water, they said, 'See, sire, there lives the terrible king of whom we spoke.' When Singh Rajah looked down the well he became very angry, for he thought he saw another lion there. He roared and shook his great mane, and the shadow lion shook his, and looked terribly defiant. At last, beside himself with rage at the insolence of his opponent, Singh Rajah sprang down to kill him at once, but no other lion was there -- only the treacherous reflection. And the sides of the well were so steep that he could not get out again, to punish the two jackals, who peeped over the top. After struggling for some time in the deep water, he sank to rise no more. And the little jackals threw stones down upon him from above, and danced round and round the well, singing, 'Ao! Ao! Ao! Ao! The king of the forest is dead, is dead. We have killed the great lion who would have killed us! Ao! Ao! Ao! Ao! Ring-a-ting -- ding-a-ting! Ring-a-ting -- ding-a-ting! Ao! Ao! Ao!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Hare and the Lions,Tibet,NA,NA,"It chanced one day that while the lion was hunting for something to eat, he came across a hare sleeping behind a boulder; and seizing the hare in his great paws he was just about to devour him, when the hare spoke as follows: 'Oh! Uncle Lion,' said he, 'before eating me I just want to tell you about another animal who lives in that pond down there in the valley. He is very big and fierce, and I think he must be even stronger than you are. But if you will allow me to do so I will show you where he lives, and if you can succeed in killing him, he will make a very much better meal for you than a poor little beast like me.' On hearing this the lion was very indignant. 'What!' said he, 'do you mean to tell me that there is any animal in this country stronger and more powerful than I am? Don't you know that I am the lord of this district, and that I should never allow anyone else to dispute the mastery with me. Show me at once where this creature lives, and I will show you how I shall deal with him.' 'Oh! Uncle Lion,' said the hare, 'let me beg you to be careful. You have no idea what a big, strong creature this is; you must on no account allow yourself to be injured by fighting with him. Think what a grief it would be to us all if you were to come to any harm.' This remark of the hare's made the lion more angry than before, and he insisted that the hare should at once lead him down and show him where the other animal lived. So the hare, after again begging him to be careful of himself, preceded him down the hill until they arrived at the edge of a square-built stone tank, which was nearly full of water. 'Now, Uncle Lion,' said the hare, 'if you will go to the edge of that tank and look down into the water you will see the animal I speak of.' So saying he moved on one side, and the lion, stalking to the edge, peered down into the tank. The water was very smooth, and on the clear surface he saw his own head reflected. 'There he is,' called out the hare from the background; 'there he is, Uncle Lion, I can see him quite plainly in the water. You see how fierce he is looking; please be careful not to start fighting with him.' These remarks made the lion more angry than ever, and he moved up and down on the brink of the tank, glaring fiercely at his own reflection in the water, and growling and showing his teeth at it. 'That's right, Uncle Lion,' called out the hare; 'I am so glad you are taking good care of yourself. Don't on any account come to grips with that beast in the water, or he might do you an injury. You are certainly much safer on the bank, and no doubt you will frighten him if you continue to growl and show your teeth.' These last observations of the hare goaded the lion to desperation, and with a fierce roar he sprang straight at the image in the water. Once in the tank he was unable to get out, for its sides were built of masonry, and it was impossible for him to climb them. So he swam about for some time in the tank, whilst the hare, sitting on the bank, threw stones at him and made nasty remarks; and finally, when quite wearied out, he sank to the bottom and was drowned. The hare was very pleased at having accomplished the destruction of the lion, and he now turned his attention to the lioness. It happened that nearby there was a thick wall standing, which was part of the remains of a ruined castle; and in one portion of the wall there was a hole, very large at one end and tapering down to quite a small opening at the other. The hare, having studied his ground, went off next morning to find the lioness. He soon came across her stalking up and down near her den, very much perturbed at the disappearance of her lord and master. 'Good-morning, Aunt Lioness,' said the hare, going up cautiously towards her; 'what is the matter with you this morning? How is it I find you pacing here in front of your den instead of hunting your prey as usual on the hillside?' The lioness took no notice of the hare, except to growl at him in an angry manner, and to lash her sides with her tail. 'I suppose,' went on the hare, 'you are anxious about Mr. Lion, but I am sorry to tell you that you are not likely to see him again for some time. The fact is, he and I had a little argument yesterday, in which we both lost our tempers. It ended in our having a free fight, and I regret to say that I was obliged to injure Mr. Lion rather severely before I could make him see reason, and he is now lying in a dying state in the valley below.' This impudence so enraged the lioness that she sprang towards the hare and endeavoured to seize him; but he eluded her and galloped off down the hill hotly pursued by the angry beast. The hare made straight for the ruined wall, and entering the breach in the wall at the large end he emerged safely at the other side by the smaller recess, which was just large enough for him to pass through. The lioness, following closely at his heels, was so blind with rage that she did not see that she was being led into a trap; so she rushed head-foremost into the opening in the wall, and before she had time to stop herself was wedged tightly in the tapering hole. She struggled violently, trying to extricate herself, but all in vain. Meanwhile the hare, having cantered round to the other side, took up its position in rear of the lioness, and began pelting her with stones and calling her all the bad names he could think of. When he was tired of this he went off home very pleased with himself, and the lioness, being unable to free herself from the trap she was in, shortly afterwards starved to death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Killing of the Rakhas,India,NA,NA,"The villagers turned on him, 'Why don't you go and do so: then you would marry the Raja's daughter and we should all bow down to you.' At the thought of this Jhalka began to skip about crying, 'I will finish him off in no time.' The headman heard him and took him at his word and wrote to the Raja that in his village there was a man who undertook to kill the Rakhas. When Jhalka heard this he hurried to the headman and explained that he had only been joking. 'I cannot treat such things as a joke,' answered the headman. 'Don't you know that this is a Raja's matter: to deal with Rajas is the same as to deal with bongas: you may make a promise to the bongas in jest, but they will not let you off it on that plea. You are much too fond of playing the fool.' Ten or twelve days later sipahis came from the Raja to fetch Jhalka: he told them that he had only spoken in jest and did not want to go to the Raja, but they took him away all the same. Before he started he picked out a well-tempered battle axe and begged his father to propitiate the bongas and pray that he might be saved from the Rakhas. When he was produced before the Raja, Jhalka again tried to explain that there had been a mistake, but the Raja told him that he would be taken at his word and must go and kill the Rakhas. Then he saw that there was nothing left for him but to put his trust in God: so he asked that he might be given two mirrors and a large box and when these were brought he had the box taken to the foot of a large banyan tree which grew by a ford in the river which flowed by the hill in which the Rakhas lived: it was at this ford that the Rakhas used to lie in wait for prey. Left alone there Jhalka put one of the mirrors into the box and then tightened his cloth and climbed the banyan tree with his battle axe and the other mirror. He was not at all happy as he waited for the Rahkas, thinking of all the people who had been killed as they passed along the road below the tree: however he was determined to outwit the Rakhas if he could. All night long he watched in vain but just at dawn the Rakhas appeared. At the sight of him Jhalka shook so much with fright that the branches of the tree swayed. The Rakhas smelt that there was a human being about and looking up into the tree saw the branches waving. 'Ha,' said he, 'here is my breakfast.' Jhalka retorted 'Ha! here is another Rakhas to match those I have got.' 'What are you talking about?' asked the Rakhas. 'I am glad to have met you at last' returned Jhalka. 'Why?' asked the Rakhas, 'and what are you trembling for?' 'I am trembling with rage: we shall now see whether I am to eat you or you are to eat me.' 'Come down and try.' 'No, you come up here and try.' Jhalka would not leave the tree, and the Rakhas would not climb it: so they waited. At last the Rahhas asked, 'Who are you? I have seen a thousand men like you.' And Jhalka answered, 'Who are you? I have seen a thousand like you.' At this the Rakhas began to hesitate and wonder whether Jhalka was really his equal in strength, so he changed the subject and asked what the big box was. 'That is the box into which I put Rakhases like you when I catch them; I have got plenty more at home.' 'How many are there in the box?' 'Two or three.' The Rakhas asked to see them, but Jhalka would not leave the tree until the Rakhas had sworn an oath to do him no harm; then he came down and opened the box and made the Rakhas look into the mirror inside the box; and he also held up the second mirror saying that there was another Rakhas. The Rakhas was fascinated at the sight of his own reflection; when he grinned or opened his mouth the reflection did the same; and while he was amusing himself with making different grimaces Jhalka suddenly cut him down with the battle axe, and he fell down dead. Then Jhalka cut off the ears and tongue and toes and hastened with them to the Raja. When it was found that the Rakhas was really dead the Raja assembled all his subjects and in their presence married Jhalka to his daughter and made over to him half the kingdom and gave him horses and elephants and half of everything in his palace.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Lion and the Hare (Bidpai),Bidpai,NA,NA,"In the neighborhood of Baghdad there was a beautiful meadow, which was the home of many wild animals. They would have lived very happily there had it not been for one mischief-loving lion. Every day this lion wandered about, killing many helpless creatures for the mere sport of the slaying. To put an end to this, the animals gathered in a body, and going to the lion, spoke to him in this manner, 'King lion, we are proud to have such a brave and valiant beast to rule over us. But we do not think that it is fitting for one of your rank to hunt for his own food. We therefore wait upon you with this request: Henceforth do you remain quietly at home, and we your subjects will bring to your lair such food as it is fitting that a king should eat.' The lion, who was greatly flattered, immediately accepted their offer. Thus every day the animals drew lots to decide who among their number should offer himself for the lion's daily portion. In due time it came about that the lot fell upon the hare. Now the hare, when he learned that it was his turn to die, complained bitterly. 'Do you not see that we are still tormented by that lion?' he asked the other animals. 'Only leave it to me, and I will release you for all time from his tyranny.' The other animals were only too glad at these words, and told the hare to go his way. The hare hid for some time in the bushes, and then hurried to the lion's lair. By this time the lion was as angry as he was hungry. He was snarling, and lashing his yellow tail on the ground. When he saw the hare, he called out loudly, 'Who are you, and what are my subjects doing? I have had no morsel of food today!' The hare besought him to calm his anger and listen to him. 'The lot fell today,' he began, 'on another hare and myself. In good season we were on our way here to offer ourselves for your dinner, when a lion sprang out of the bushes and seized my companion. In vain I cried to him that we were destined for the king's table, and, moreover, that no one was permitted to hunt in these royal woods except your majesty. He paid no heed to my words save to retort, 'You do not know what you are saying. I am the only king here. That other lion, to whom you all bow down, is a usurper.' Dumb with fright, I jumped into the nearest bush.' The lion grew more and more indignant as he listened to the hare's tale. 'If I could once find that lion,' he roared, 'I would soon teach him who is king of these woods.' 'If your majesty will trust me,' answered the hare, humbly, 'I can take you to his hiding place.' So the hare and the lion went out together. They crossed the woods and the meadow, and came to an ancient well, which was full of clear, deep water. 'Yonder is the home of your enemy,' whispered the hare, pointing to the well. 'If you go near enough, you can see him. But,' he added, 'perhaps you had better wait until he comes out before you attack him.' These words only made the lion more indignant. 'He shall not live a moment after I have laid eyes upon him,' he growled. So the hare and the lion approached stealthily to the well. As they bent over the edge and looked down into the clear water, they saw themselves reflected there. The lion, thinking that it was the other lion with the other hare, leaped into the well, never to come out again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Lion and the Hare (Crooke),India,NA,NA,"The hare said, 'Uncle Lion, I know I am late, and you have cause to be angry. But really it is not my fault. There is another lion in our part of the jungle, and he says that he is master, and you are nobody. In fact, when I showed him that I positively would come to you he was very angry.' 'Ha!' said the lion, roaring. 'Who says he is my master? Show him to me. I'll teach him who rules the forest.' 'Come along then,' said the hare. They went a long way, until they came to a well. The hare looked down into the well. 'He was here just now,' said he. The Lion looked in, and at the bottom he saw what looked like a lion in the water. He shook his mane -- the other lion shook his mane. He roared -- the echo of a roar came up from the bottom of the well. 'Let me get at him!' roared the lion. In he jumped -- splash! Nothing more was ever heard of that lion, and the beasts of the forest were glad to be left in peace. They put their heads together, and composed a verse of poetry, which is always sung in that forest on Sundays:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Lion and the Hare (Panchatantra),"India, The Panchatantra",NA,NA,"In the middle of a forest there lived a lion by the name of Bhâsuraka (Heroic One). In consequence of his great strength he unceasingly killed many gazelles, hares, and other animals. One day all the forest creatures assembled. Gazelles, boars, buffalo, wild oxen, hares, and so forth, went to him and said, 'Sir, why are you unnecessarily murdering all the wild animals, when one animal would be sufficient to fill you? Therefore enter into an agreement with us. From this day forth you may sit here quietly, and every day one animal will come to you, as his turn comes up, and allow you to eat him. In this manner you can effortlessly acquire your nourishment, and we will not be wholly exterminated. That is the right of a king, and let it thus be carried out.' After hearing their words, Bhâsuraka said, 'What you say is true. But if ever an animal fails to come to me here, then I will surely devour all of you.' They sealed their promise with the words, 'So be it!' and now, free of danger, they moved fearlessly about the forest. However, every day, in turn, one animal came to the lion: an old one, one who had renounced all earthly affairs, one who was torn by grief, or one who feared he might lose his wife and children. One animal presented himself to the lion every noon to serve as his meal. Following the predetermined order, it became the hare's turn, and however little he liked it, he was sent to the lion by the other animals. He walked as slowly as possible and thus missed the established deadline. With a fearful heart he sought a way to escape death. Toward the end of the day he finally arrived. The lion, famished from his long wait, was filled with anger. Licking the corners of his mouth, he thought, 'Aha! Tomorrow I shall kill all the creatures in the forest.' Just as he was thinking this the hare walked up, bowed, and stood before him. When the lion saw that this creature, who otherwise was so light-footed, was the one who had arrived so late, he was filled with anger and spoke threateningly, 'Hey, you miserable little hare. It had to be you who come so long after the appointed time, you who otherwise are the most light-footed of them all! Because of your failure, after I have killed you, tomorrow I am going to exterminate all the rest of the animals.' To this the hare bowed and spoke humbly, 'Sir, it is neither my fault nor the fault of the other animals. Would you like to hear the cause of my tardiness?' The lion said, 'Speak quickly, before you find yourself between my teeth!' The hare said, 'Sir, after learning from the other animals that today was my turn, I was sent away with four hares. On my way here I was approached by another large lion, who came from his den and said to me, 'Hey there! Where are you going? Pay homage to your guardian angel!' I answered, 'We are going, in keeping with our contract, to our lord Bhâsuraka, in order to serve as his meal.' To that he said, 'If that is so, then all of the animals must also enter into a contract with me, because this forest belongs to me. This Bhâsuraka is a miserable thief. But if he is king here, then leave the four hares here as hostages, and demand that he come here as quickly as possible, so that the one of us who can prove himself king through his strength will be able to eat all the animals here.' Then following his order I came here. That is the reason why I am late. Now your order is my command!' Having heard this, Bhâsuraka said, 'My dear, if this is the case then quickly show me this rogue of a lion so I can vent my anger against the other animals on him and become myself once again.' The hare said, 'Sir, you are right. We warriors go to battle to protect our homeland and to fight against evil. This enemy lives in a castle. If he attacks us from his castle, we'll be threatened, but if he stays in his castle, he'll be difficult to overcome.' Bhâsuraka answered, 'My dear, lead me to this rogue. Even if he is in a castle, I will kill him.' The hare said, 'But I have seen that he is very powerful. Sir, it is not good for you to go without knowing his strength.' Bhâsuraka said, 'Ha! What is this to you? Lead me to him, even if he does live in a castle.' The hare said, 'If you insist, come with me, sir.' After saying this he set forth and went to a well. There he said to Bhâsuraka, 'Sir, who is able to withstand your majesty? This rogue saw you coming from afar and has retreated into his castle. Come here and I will show him to you.' After hearing this Bhâsuraka said, 'My dear, show me his castle at once!' Then the hare showed him the well. The foolish lion, seeing his own reflection in the middle of the well, roared fiercely. A doubly loud roar echoed up from within the well. Hearing this, he thought, 'He is very powerful,' and he threw himself on him, and thus he lost his life. The hare, on the other hand, after having cheerfully reported back to the other animals, was greatly praised by them, and he lived happily in the forest. One of India's most influential contributions to world literature, The Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled in their current form between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes The Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of The Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Lion Whose Name Was Pingala,India,NA,NA,"At last a hare's turn came to satisfy the lion's hunger and he declined to carry out the agreement. The other animals remonstrated with him and said: 'You must go, or we shall have the lion eating up all the beasts as he used to do.' The hare replied: 'Don't trouble yourselves! He won't eat up many more.' So at about midday he appeared before the lion, going very slowly, and said: 'Sir! I was travelling along the road to come to you, when I was seized and kept a prisoner by one of your enemies; so I am afraid I am a little late!' 'One of my enemies!' exclaimed the lion. 'And pray where is he? Let me see him at once.' The cunning hare led the lion into an enclosure where there was a well, and looking down into the water the lion saw his own reflection. The foolish lion thereupon in a great rage jumped down into the water and was drowned. For it has been said:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Tiger and the Fox,Pakistan,NA,NA,"In a certain wood, where dwelt many jackals and foxes, a tiger came and took up his abode. And what did he do? This is what he used to do. Every day he would kill a jackal or two. So the jackals and foxes gathered together, and said, 'If he goes on this way he will destroy us all, so, as we are now assembled here, let us agree that each will take his turn to be devoured.' And so they did. Every day they used to give to the tiger the one whose turn it was. One day it was a fox's turn. At first he hid himself, but then he thought, 'Now I have to go, for I am hemmed in on both sides. I'll go, but I'll try by some trick to keep my breath in me.' So on he went, shivering as he went, till he came to the tiger's presence. 'Ah!' says the tiger, 'You fox, why have you been so long?' 'Sire,' said the fox, 'another tiger has come to live in your country.' 'Where is that tiger?' said the tiger. 'Come with me,' said the fox, 'and I will show him to you.' So the fox went in front and the tiger went behind, and they went on till they came to a well. They came and stood at the mouth of the well, and then the fox said, 'Oh, my lord tiger! That other tiger has just come home after feeding on a jackal, and he is now sitting inside this well.' Then the tiger said, 'What kind of tiger can he be to come to my country! Either I must stay here alone, or he can stay alone, but we cannot live together.' Then he went up to the well and looked in, and saw a tiger sitting there. But really it was only his own shadow [reflection], and no tiger. With that he leapt into the well, and there was drowned and perished. Then the fox went back to his home, jumping for joy as he went. He called out to his brethren, 'Come here, foxes and jackals!' They came up at his call, and were very angry, and said, 'You fox, it was your turn to be eaten by the tiger! Why have you come back? Now the tiger will be in a rage and will come and kill two or three jackals and two or three foxes.' But the fox answered them, 'Don't you be afraid. I have killed that tiger.' They all said, 'You are a fox, and he is a tiger. How then could you kill him?' He said, 'Come, and I'll show him to you.' They set out in great fear after the fox, and trembling with fright, they came and stoood at the mouth of the well. The fox gave a shout and said, 'Come and see how I have slain the tiger and cast him into this well.' They peeped in, and said that it was the truth, and that the tiger was lying dead in the well. And they all rejoiced exceedingly.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Tiger and the Hare,Pakistan,NA,NA,"In a certain forest there once lived a fierce tiger, which was in the habit of hunting down the rest of the animals for mere sport, whether hunger impelled him thereto or not. All the animals, therefore, met together by common consent to consider their grievances. 'Let us agree,' said the jackal, 'that one of us shall be chosen by lot day by day as a sacrifice to the tiger.' 'All right,' assented the others, 'but first let us see the tiger, and let us offer him a petition.' So they all marched together to the tiger's den and humbly sought him to refrain from indiscriminate slaughter, and to be satisfied with the animal which should voluntarily come to him day by day. 'Do not hunt us poor fellows down,' said they, 'for one of us will always come to be devoured by you, and this plan will save you trouble as well.' 'No, no,' cried the tiger. 'I shall use my claws and my teeth, and so eat my food.' 'But,' answered the animals, 'God has said that we ought to live in hope.' 'True,' answered the tiger, 'but he has also bidden everyone to earn his own bread.' At last, after much argument, the tiger suffered himself to be persuaded, and made a solemn promise to remain at home in his den. Thenceforward every day an animal chosen by lot went to the den to be eaten. But when the hare's turn came, she flatly said, 'I shall not go. I shall live my life.' In vain the other animals tried to persuade or coerce her. Twelve o'clock, the tiger's usual feeding time, came and went, then came one, two, and three. At last the hare suddenly started up, and exclaiming 'Now I'm off!' she set out for the den. As she drew near she noticed the famished tiger tearing up the earth in fury, and heard him bellowing, 'Who is this ridiculous hare to keep me waiting?' 'But I have an excuse,' protested the hare. 'What excuse can you have?' demanded the tiger. 'Today,' said the hare, 'it was not my turn to come at all. It was my brother's. I am thin, but my brother is plump and fat. My brother had started for your den, but on the way he fell in with another tiger which wanted to eat him, and, in fact, he caught him and was carrying him away, when I came up and said to him, 'This country is not your country, but the country of another tiger who will punish you.' To which the strange tiger answered, 'You go at once and call that tiger of yours out, and then he and I shall have a fight.' So here I am, sir, sent to deliver his challenge. Come and kill the villain for us.' Full of rage and jealousy, the tiger said to the hare, 'Lead on!' and the pair started forth to seek the rival tiger. As they went along, the hare began to look alarmed and shrink back, and made as though she would have hidden herself in a thicket. 'What is the matter now?' inquired the tiger. 'What are you afraid of?' 'I am afraid,' answered she, 'because the other tiger's den lies close in front of us.' 'Where? Where?' cried the tiger, peering forward with searching eyes. 'I see no den whatever.' 'It is there. See!' answered the hare. 'Almost at your very feet!' 'I can see no den,' said the tiger. 'Is there no means of persuading you to come forward and show me the place?' 'Yes,' replied the hare, 'if you will please carry me under your arm.' So the tiger lifted the cunning hare under his arm, and, guided by her directions, he unexpectedly found himself at the edge of a large deep well. 'The is the den I told you of,' whispered the hare. 'Look in and you will see the robber.' Standing on the brink and looking down into the clear depths, the tiger saw at the bottom the reflected image of himself and the hare, and imagining that he saw his enemy in proud possession of the fat brother, he dropped the nimble hare, which easily escaped, and with a roar leaped down, where, after struggling in the water for many hours, he finally expired, and thus the forest was at last rid of the tyrant.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
92,The Tiger and the Shadow,Malaya,NA,NA,"There was a saltlick in the jungle to which all the beasts of the forest resorted, but they were greatly afraid by reason of an old tiger which killed one of them every day. At length, therefore, Plando the mouse-deer said to the tiger, 'Why not permit me to bring you a beast every day, to save you from hunting for your food?' The tiger consented, and Plando went off to make arrangement with the beasts. But he could not persuade any of them to go, and after three days he set off, taking nobody with him but Kuwis the smallest of the flying squirrels. On their arrival Plando said to the tiger, 'I could not bring you any of the other beasts because the way was blocked by a fat old tiger with a flying squirrel sitting astride its muzzle.' On hearing this the tiger exclaimed, 'Let us go and find it and drive it away.' The three therefore set out, the flying squirrel perched upon the tiger's muzzle and the mouse-deer sitting astride upon its hind quarters. On reaching the river, the mouse-deer pointed to the tiger's likeness in the water and exclaimed, 'Look there! That is the fat old tiger that I saw.' On hearing this, the tiger sprang into the river to attack his own shadow [reflection], and was drowned immediately.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
50,The Hyena Outwitted,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 119, pp. 335-36.","Once upon a time there was a great tiger who lived in a forest; and all the other animals that lived in the forest treated him as their Raja, down to the very birds. They all felt safe under his protection, because he was so much feared that no men dared hunt in that forest. One day it happened that this Raja tiger killed a man and made such a enormous meal on the flesh, that he got very bad indigestion. The pain grew worse and worse, till he felt sure that his last hour was come. In his agony he sent for a hyena and offered to make him his dewan [chief minister], if only he would call all the other animals of the forest to come and pay a farewell visit to their lord. The hyena readily agreed but thought it would be better to send another messenger, while he stayed by the tiger to see that all the animals duly presented themselves. Just then a crow flew overhead; so they called him and deputed him to summon all the animals. The crow flew off and in a short time all the animals assembled before the tiger and paid their respects to him and expressed wishes for his speedy recovery -- all except the jackals. They had been summoned along with the others; but somehow they paid no attention and only remembered about it in the afternoon. Then they were very frightened as to what would be the consequence of their remissness; but one chief jackal stood up and told them not to fear, as he would contrive a way of getting the better of the hyena. There was nothing else to be done, so they had to put what trust they could in their chief and follow him to the tiger. On his way the chief jackal picked up a few roots, and took them with him. When they reached the place where the suffering monarch lay, the hyena at once began to abuse them for being late, and the tiger also angrily asked why they had not come before; then the chief jackal began humbly 'O Maharaja, we were duly summoned; your messenger is not to blame; but we reflected that it was useless merely to go and look at you when you were so ill: that could do you no good; so we bestirred ourselves to try and find some medicine that would cure you. We have searched the length and breadth of the jungle and have found all that is necessary, except one thing and that we have failed to find.' 'Tell me what it is,' said the hyena, 'and I will at once dispatch all these animals to look for it and it will surely be found.' 'Yes,' echoed the tiger, 'what is it?' 'Maharaja,' said the jackal, 'when you take these medicines, you must lie down on the fresh skin of a hyena, which has been flayed alive; but the only hyena we can find in the forest is your dewan' 'The world can well bear the loss of one hyena,' said the tiger: 'take him and skin him.' At these words all the animals set upon the hyena and flayed him alive; and the tiger lay down on the skin and took the medicines brought by the jackal; and as he was not seriously ill, his pain soon began to pass away. 'That is a lesson to the hyena not to scold us and get us into trouble,' said the jackal, as he went home. (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 119, pp. 335-36.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
50,The King of the Tigers Is Sick,Malaya,"Skeat's source: 'A Kelantan Malay named Che Busu, one of the following of the Raja Muda of Patani. The mouse-deer, the trickster-hero of this tale, is featured in many Malayan fables. This story was collected on the Tembeling River in Ulu Pahang.","Walter Skeat, Fables and Folk-Tales from an Eastern Forest (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1901), no. 2, pp. 3-4.","When the great king of all the tigers was sick, the tiger crown prince made obeisance and said, 'If my lord will taste of the flesh of every beast of the field peradventure my lord may recover.' To the great king commanded the crown prince to summon every kind of beast into his presence, and as they appeared, the king ate them. Only the mouse-deer, who was likewise summoned, refused to appear. Therefore the great king's wrath was kindled against the mouse-deer, and in the end he too was fain to appear. And when he appeared he was questioned by the king, 'Why did you not attend at the first when we had summoned hither every kind of beast that lives in the field?' The mouse-deer replied, 'Your slave could not approach your majesty because of a dream of certain medicine that would make your majesty well.' The king replied, 'What medicine was this of which you dreamed?' 'Your slave dreamed that the only remedy for you majesty's sickness was for you majesty to seize and devour that which is nearest your majesty.' Immediately on hearing this, the great king of the tigers seized the prince of the tigers and devoured him also. And straightway the king was cured, and the mouse-deer himself became crown prince in turn. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
50,"The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox",Aesop,NA,"Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann, 1912), pp. 293- 294.","A lion, infirm with age, lay sick in his den, and all the beasts of the forest came to inquire after his health, with the exception of the fox. The wolf thought this was a good opportunity for paying off old scores against the fox, so he called the attention of the lion to his absence, and said, 'You see, sire, that we have all come to see how you are except the fox, who hasn't come near you, and doesn't care whether you are well or ill.' Just then the fox came in and heard the last words of the wolf. The lion roared at him in deep displeasure, but he begged to be allowed to explain his absence, and said, 'Not one of them cares for you so much as I, sire, for all the time I have been going round to the doctors and trying to find a cure for your illness.' 'And may I ask if you have found one?' said the lion. 'I have, sire,' said the fox, 'and it is this: You must flay a wolf and wrap yourself in his skin while it is still warm.' The lion accordingly turned to the wolf and struck him dead with one blow of his paw, in order to try the fox's prescription. But the fox laughed and said to himself, 'That's what comes of stirring ill-will.' (London: W. Heinemann, 1912), pp. 293- 294.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
50,"The Lion, Wolf, and Fox",Jean de La Fontaine,"Link to this fable in the original French 'Le Lion, le Loup et le Renard': Fables de La Fontaine (Tours: Alfred Mame et Fils, 1888), pp. 232-33.","The Fables of La Fontaine: Translated from the French [mainly by Robert Thomson] (London: J. C. Nimmo and Bain, 1884), pp. 166-67 (book 8, fable 3).","A feeble lion, gouty, given o'er, Desired some remedy for his old age. Tell kings that remedy avails no more, 'Tis waste of words, that but excites their rage. Ours ordered doctors in of every kind, For skilled there are in every branch we find. They to the lion came from their retreats, From every side came givers of receipts. Among the visitors to show their skill, The fox dispensed with going, and lay still. Hence fawned the wolf, his absent friend belied, As the king went to bed, when quick he cried: 'He shall be stifled in his room with smoke! First bring him here.' The fox appeared and spoke, Knowing the wolf had injured him at court: 'Sire, I'm afraid that some unfair report May for contempt have taken my delay Thus to condole with you, and homage pay. I've been, dread sire, on pilgrimage by stealth, To pay the vows I promised for your health. Wise men and skilful met I on the way; And your own fears from danger but too great. Sire, all you want, they said, is heat, Which age in you has quenched within; Of a wolf flayed alive, then, wear the skin, Quite hot and smoking from his body peeled; A secret doubtless ne'er before revealed: It gives to wasting nature life and ease. Here good Sir Wolf will serve you, if you please, With chamber robe so very choice.' The monarch relished the advice: The wolf was flayed, and cut up in a trice; Warm in his skin the king wrapt up, Upon his body straight sat down to sup. Cease, courtiers, cease to work each other's woe, And while ye flatter, deal no treacherous blow: Quadruple wrath may wait you on the throne, Which ye think calumny has made your own. Ye run a race, and as the swiftest choose, Nothing is pardoned to the men that lose. Translated from the French [mainly by Robert Thomson] (London: J. C. Nimmo and Bain, 1884), pp. 166-67 (book 8, fable 3). Renard': Fables de La Fontaine (Tours: Alfred Mame et Fils, 1888), pp. 232-33.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
178A,Beth Gellert,Wales,"Jacobs' source: 'Beth Gêlert, or the Grave of the Greyhound,' a poem by W. R. Spencer privately printed as a broadsheet in 1800. A note by Spencer: 'The story of this ballad is traditionary in a village at the foot of Snowdon where Llewellyn the Great had a house. The Greyhound named Gêlert was given him by his father-in-law, King John, in the year 1205, and the place to this day is called Beth-Gêlert, or the grave of Gêlert.' The modern Welsh spelling of the place where Llewellyn's dog is buried is Beddgelert.","Joseph Jacobs, Celtic Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1892), no. 21, pp. 192-94. Jacobs' notes to this story: pp. 259-64.","Prince Llewellyn had a favorite greyhound named Gellert that had been given to him by his father-in-law, King John. He was as gentle as a lamb at home but a lion in the chase. One day Llewellyn went to the chase and blew his horn in front of his castle. All his other dogs came to the call but Gellert never answered it. So he blew a louder blast on his horn and called Gellert by name, but still the greyhound did not come. At last Prince Llewellyn could wait no longer and went off to the hunt without Gellert. He had little sport that day because Gellert was not there, the swiftest and boldest of his hounds. He turned back in a rage to his castle, and as he came to the gate, who should he see but Gellert come bounding out to meet him. But when the hound came near him, the prince was startled to see that his lips and fangs were dripping with blood. Llewellyn started back and the greyhound crouched down at his feet as if surprised or afraid at the way his master greeted him. Now Prince Llewellyn had a little son a year old with whom Gellert used to play, and a terrible thought crossed the prince's mind that made him rush towards the child's nursery. And the nearer he came the more blood and disorder he found about the rooms. He rushed into it and found the child's cradle overturned and daubed with blood. Prince Llewellyn grew more and more terrified, and sought for his little son everywhere. He could find him nowhere but only signs of some terrible conflict in which much blood had been shed. At last he felt sure the dog had destroyed his child, and shouting to Gellert, 'Monster, thou hast devoured my child,' he drew out his sword and plunged it in the greyhound's side, who fell with a deep yell and still gazing in his master's eyes. As Gellert raised his dying yell, a little child's cry answered it from beneath the cradle, and there Llewellyn found his child unharmed and just awakened from sleep. But just beside him lay the body of a great gaunt wolf all torn to pieces and covered with blood. Too late, Llewellyn learned what had happened while he was away. Gellert had stayed behind to guard the child and had fought and slain the wolf that had tried to destroy Llewellyn's heir. In vain was all Llewellyn's grief; he could not bring his faithful dog to life again. So he buried him outside the castle walls within sight of the great mountain of Snowdon, where every passerby might see his grave, and raised over it a great cairn of stones. And to this day the place is called Beth Gellert, or the Grave of Gellert. 1892), no. 21, pp. 192-94. Jacobs' notes to this story: pp. 259-64. Jacobs' source: 'Beth Gêlert, or the Grave of the Greyhound,' a poem by W. R. Spencer privately printed as a broadsheet in 1800. A note by Spencer: 'The story of this ballad is traditionary in a village at the foot of Snowdon where Llewellyn the Great had a house. The Greyhound named Gêlert was given him by his father-in-law, King John, in the year 1205, and the place to this day is called Beth-Gêlert, or the grave of Gêlert.' is Beddgelert.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
178A,Folliculus and His Greyhound,"England, Gesta Romanorum","The Gesta Romanorum or Deeds of the Romans was compiled in Latin in the early fourteenth century by an English cleric. It was first published about 1473. Its title notwithstanding, only a few of the work's some 283 stories deal with the Romans. Instead, the work presents a mixture of anecdotes, legends, and fables, gleaned from many sources and presented in a context appropriate for incorporation into Christian sermons. Various manuscript versions exist. The story of Folliculus is found in the manuscript known as 'The English Gesta.'","Gesta Romanorum, translated from the Latin by Charles Swan; revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), notes to chapter 32, pp. xlii-xliii.","Folliculus, a knight, was fond of hunting and tournaments. He had an only son, for whom three nurses were provided. Next to this child he loved his falcon and his greyhound. It happened one day that he was called to a tournament, whither his wife and domestics went also, leaving the child in the cradle, the greyhound lying by him, and the falcon on his perch. A serpent that inhabited a hole near the castle, taking advantage of the profound silence that reigned, crept from his habitation and advanced towards the cradle to devour the child. The falcon, perceiving the danger, fluttered with his wings till he awoke the dog, who instantly attacked the invader, and after a fierce conflict, in which he was sorely wounded, killed him. He then lay down on the ground to lick and heal his wounds. When the nurses returned they found the cradle overturned, the child thrown out, and the ground covered with blood, as well as the dog, who, they immediately concluded, had killed the child. Terrified at the idea of meeting the anger of the parents, they determined to escape, but in their flight fell in with their mistress, to whom they were compelled to relate the supposed murder of the child by the greyhound. The knight soon arrived to hear the sad story, and, maddened with fury, rushed forward to the spot. The poor wounded and faithful animal made an effort to rise, and welcome his master with his accustomed fondness; but the enraged knight received him on the point of his sword, and he fell lifeless to the ground. On examination of the cradle the infant was found alive and unhurt, and the dead serpent lying by him. the knight now perceived what had happened, lamented bitterly over his faithful dog, and blamed himself for having depended too hastily on the words of his wife. Abandoning the profession of arms, he broke his lance in three pieces, and vowed a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, where he spent the rest of his days in peace. The Gesta Romanorum or Deeds of the Romans was compiled in Latin in the early fourteenth century by an English cleric. It was first published about 1473. Its title notwithstanding, only a few of the work's some 283 stories deal with the Romans. Instead, the work presents a mixture of anecdotes, legends, and fables, gleaned from many sources and presented in a context appropriate for incorporation into Christian sermons. Various manuscript versions exist. The story of Folliculus is found in the manuscript known as 'The English Gesta.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
178A,The Brahman's Wife and the Mongoose (Kingscote),"India, Georgiana Kingscote",NA,"Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India, collected by Mrs. Howard [Georgiana] Kingscote and Pandit Natêsá Sástrî (London and Calcutta: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), pp. 162-64.","On the banks of the Ganges, which also flows by the most holy city of Benares, there is a town named Mithila, where dwelt a very poor Brahman called Vidyadhara. He had no children, and to compensate for this want, he and his wife tenderly nourished in their house a mongoose -- a species of weasel. It was their all in all -- their younger son, their elder daughter -- their younger son, their elder daughter -- their elder son, their younger daughter, so fondly did they regard that little creature. The god Visvesvara and his spouse Visalakshi observed this and had pity for the unhappy pair; so by their divine power they blessed them with a son. This most welcome addition to their family did not alienate the affections of the Brahman and his wife from the mongoose; on the contrary, their attachment increased, for they believed that it was because of their having adopted the pet that a son had been born to them. So the child and the mongoose were brought up together, as twin brothers, in the same cradle. It happened one day when the Brahman had gone out to beg alms of the pious and charitable, that his wife went into the garden to cull some pot-herbs, leaving the child asleep in his cradle, and by his side the mongoose kept guard. An old serpent, which was living in the well in the garden, crept into the house and under the cradle, and was beginning to climb into it to bite the child when the mongoose fiercely attacked it and tore it into several pieces, thus saving the life of the Brahman's little son, and the venomous snake, that came to slay, itself lay dead beneath the cradle. Pleased at having performed such an exploit, the mongoose ran into the garden to show the Brahman's wife its blood-smeared mouth, but she rashly mistook the deliverer of her child for his destroyer, and with one stroke of the knife in her hand with which she was cutting herbs she killed the faithful creature, and then hastened into the house to see her dead son. But there she found the child in his cradle alive and well, only crying at the absence of his little companion, the mongoose, and under the cradle lay the great serpent cut to pieces. The real state of affairs was now evident, and the Brahman presently returning home, his wife told him of her rash act and then put an end to her life. The Brahman, in his turn, disconsolate at the death of the mongoose and his wife, first slew his child and then killed himself. collected by Mrs. Howard [Georgiana] Kingscote and Pandit Natêsá Sástrî (London and Calcutta: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), pp. 162-64.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
178A,The Brahman's Wife and the Mongoose (Panchatantra),"India, The Panchatantra","I have used the following edition: Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen. Aus dem Sanskrit übersetzt mit Einleitung und Anmerkungen von Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), vol. 2, pp. 326-27. The Brahman's name, Devasarman, means 'having the luck of the gods,' or 'blessed by the gods.' India's most influential contribution to world literature, the Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.","The Panchatantra, book 5, story 2.","In a certain city there lived a Brahman by the name of Devasarman. His wife gave birth to a son, and then to a mongoose. Full of love for her children, she cared for the mongoose like a son, nursing him at her breast, rubbing him with salve, and so forth. However, she did not trust him, thinking that in keeping with the evil nature of his species he might harm her son. As is rightly said: And as also is said: One day, after nicely tucking the boy into his bed, she took the water pitcher and said to her husband, 'Listen, master, I am going to the pond to fetch water. You must protect our son from the mongoose.' After she departed, the Brahman went off somewhere to collect alms, leaving the house empty. In the meantime a black snake crept out of its hole and -- as fate would have it -- approached the boy's bed. However, the mongoose confronted this, his natural enemy, and fearing that it might kill his brother, the mongoose attacked the wicked snake, tore it to bits, and threw the pieces far and wide. Proud of his valor and his face covered with blood, the mongoose approached the mother to tell her what had happened. However, the mother, seeing his blood-spattered face and sensing his excitement, feared, 'without doubt this evildoer has devoured our son.' Driven by anger and without further investigation she threw the water-filled pitcher at the mongoose, killing the him instantly. Paying no further attention to the mongoose, she rushed into the house where she found the boy still asleep. Near the bed she saw a large black snake, torn to bits. Then her heart was overcome with sorrow because of the thoughtless murder of her praiseworthy son, the mongoose, and she beat herself on the head, the breast, and her other body parts. While this was happening the Brahman returned home with alms from wherever he had been begging. 'See there!' she cried, overcome with grief for her son, the mongoose. 'Oh, you greedy one! Because you let greed rule you instead of doing what I told you to, you now must taste the fruit of your own tree of sin, the pain of your son's death.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
178A,The Dog Gellert,Wales,NA,"Horace E. Scudder, The Book of Legends: Told Over Again (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1899), pp. 26-27.","Llewellyn had perfect confidence in the dog Gellert, and one day when he went out hunting he told Gellert to stay at home and take care of his little master. So Gellert lay down by the side of the cradle and stretched his great paws out, as if to say: 'No one shall come near my little master.' The afternoon went by, the hunt was over, and Llewellyn drew near his castle. He sounded his horn, and threw himself from his horse at the door. Gellert came bounding out, but to his horror Llewellyn saw that his mouth was dripping with blood, and there were marks of blood all about. 'O faithless hound!' he cried, 'Is this the way you guard your little master?' And he drew his sword and with one blow laid the hound dead at his feet. Then he rushed into the house. Everything was in confusion. The cradle was empty, and the clothes were thrown about. He stood still, ready to faint, when he heard a little sound. Perhaps his son still lived. He went to the cradle, and there on the floor behind it was his little boy, laughing, and pulling the hair of a great shaggy wolf that lay stretched out dead beside him. Then the whole story was clear to him. The wolf had come in through the open door, had stolen toward the cradle, when Gellert had sprung upon the wolf, had fought with him and slain him. O happy father! O unhappy prince! To have his child back again, and to have slain that child's faithful guardian! He could not bring the hound back to life, but he dug his grave and built above it a beautiful monument, and the place is called Beth Gellert to this day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
178A,The Farmer and His Dog,A Modern Fable,"Dodsley gives the moral to this 'modern fable' in his index, p. 241.","Selected Fables of Esop and Other Fabulists by R. Dodsley, a new edition (London: J. Dodsley, 1781), book 2: Fables from the Moderns, no. 32, p. 117.","A farmer who had just stepped into his field to mend a gap in one of his fences found at his return the cradle where he had left his only child asleep turned upside down, the clothes all torn and bloody, and his dog lying near it besmeared also with blood. Immediately conceiving that the creature had destroyed his child, he instantly dashed out his brains with the hatchet in his hand. When turning turning up the cradle, he found his child unhurt and an enourmous serpent lying dead on the floor, killed by that faithful dog, whose courage and fidelity in preserving the life of his son, deserved another kind of reward. These affecting circumstances afforded him a striking lesson, how dangerous it is too hastily to give way to the blind impulse of a sudden passion. Moral: The greater room there appears for resentment, the more careful should we be not to accuse an innocent person. fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
178A,"The Greyhound, the Serpent, and the Child",The Seven Wise Masters,"The Seven Wise Masters, also known as The Seven Sages or The Seven Viziers is a cycle of stories presumably of Indian origin. The collection became known in medieval Europe by way of Persion and Arabic translations.","Roman Stories; or, The History of the Seven Wise Masters of Rome , 33rd edition (Berwick: W. Phorson, 1785), pp. 24-26.","In Rome there lived a gentleman that had but one son, who was carefully nursed in his own house. He had also a greyhound, so good that he never ran at any game but he took it; besides some other extraordinary qualities, that his master much admired him for. It happened one day that there was a running at tilt and tournament in the public place appointed for that purpose, to which this gentleman, amongst others, resorted. And no sooner was he gone, but his lady, with her maidens also, went to see it; the nurse also, to satisfy her curiosity, went privately, and left the child lying in the cradle in the hall, and the greyhound in the room. The gentleman's house being out of repair, in the very room where the child was issued out of a hole a great and horrible serpent, which approaching the cradle with all speed, to slay the child. The greyhound perceived it and flew at the serpent to preserve the child; and so furious was the engagement that the cradle was overturned with the child in it, the bottom upwards, but without any harm to the child, because the clothes fell underneath, and the cradle stood on the four pummels. The dog being enraged, as well at the wounds he received of the serpent, as the wrong designed his young master, fell with redoubled fury upon the serpent, and at last remained victorious, tearing the serpent in such a manner that he was all besmeared with his blood; and then he laid himself down in his place and licked his wounds. Not long after this, the tilting being ended, the nurse came into the chamber and saw the cradle turned upside down, compassed round about with blood, and the greyhound likewise all bloody; and without looking any further tore her clothes, and in a fright, with outrageous cries, carried the sad new to her lay, that the greyhound had slain the child. Hereupon the mother, full of despair and grief for the loss of her only son, likewise rent he clothes and broke out into dismal exclamations, and her maidens who had accompanied her, adding to the lamentation, made the whole house ring; and yet not any of them had the wit to go and turn the cradle up to see what had happened, continuing their outcries, till the gentleman returned from the tournament, to whom the lady, with tears and aggravations, related what she had imagined by the nurse's discourse. The knight, hearing these sad tidings, full of rage and grief, went into the hall; where meeting the poor greyhound, who came fawning upon him, as he used to do, and seeing him all bloody, he immediately concluded that all they had told him was true; and drawing out his sword he run him quite through the windpipe and neck, so that the poor dog fell down dead at the feet of his mistaken master. No sooner had the angry knight done this, but he went and took up the cradle, and there he found his son alive and well, and seeing then the slaughtered serpent, which nobody has minded before, he perceived the greyhound had killed the serpent in defense of the child. Whereupon, being full of grief, he sorrowfully cried out, 'Ah! Poor dog! That thy friendship and loyalty should be so unfortunate to thee to cause they death, instead of recompense, which thou didst deserve for preserving my little child. And saying this, he broke his sword in pieces, and went towards the Holy Land and abode there all the days of his life; and all this was occasioned by giving too much credit to the words of a rash woman.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1965,Knoist and His Three Sons,Germany,The Grimms' source: One of the sisters Anna von Haxthausen or Ludowine Translated from the Low German by D. L. The dialect forms of the place names mentioned in the story's opening The episode of sailing in a bottomless boat is classified as Aarne-Thompson type 1963.,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Knoist un sine dre Sühne, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1st edition, 1815, vol. 2, no. 52). In later editions the tale is number 138.","Between Werl and Soest there lived a man whose name was Knoist, and he had three sons. One was blind, the other lame, and the third stark naked. Once they were walking across a field, where they saw a hare. The blind one shot it, the lame one caught it, and the naked one put it in his pocket. Then they came to a tremendously large body of water, on which there were three ships. One leaked, one sank, the third had no bottom in it. All three got into the one with no bottom. Then they came to a tremendously large forest in which there was a tremendously large tree. In the tree was a tremendously large chapel. In the chapel was a sexton of hornbeam wood and a parson of boxwood, who were passing out holy water with cudgels. Blessed is he Who from this holy water can flee. Sühne, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1st edition, 1815, vol. 2, no. 52). In later editions the tale is number 138. von Haxthausen. sentence are Werrel and Soist.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1965,Lying Tale,England (Yorkshire),Dialect cautiously normalized by D. L. Ashliman.,"Source: S. Baring-Gould, Appendix to William Henderson, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866, no. 12, p. 337.","There were once five men. The one had no eyes, the second had no legs, the third was dumb, the fourth had no arms, the fifth was naked. The blind man exclaimed, 'Eh, lads, I see a bird!' The dumb man said, 'I'll shoot it!' The man without legs said, 'I'll run after it!' The man without arms said, 'I'll pick it up!' And the naked man said, 'I'll put it in my pocket!' Chorus of Yorkshire children: 'Eh! That is a lie!' Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866, no. 12, p. 337.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1965,One Dark Night,USA (Idaho),Aarne-Thompson type 2335.,Personal recollection. I learned this verse from my mother Elgarda Zobell Ashliman in Idaho in the 1940's.,"One dark night in the middle of the day, Two dead boys came out to play. Back to back they faced each other, Drew their swords and shot each other. A deaf policeman heard the noise, Came inside and shot the two dead boys. Elgarda Zobell Ashliman in Idaho in the 1940's.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1965,Sir Gammer Vans,England,"Jacobs' source: J. O. Halliwell-Phillips, Nursery Rhymes and Nursery Tales (London, 1843). Aarne-Thompson type 1965. The tall tale episode of the hunter's lucky shot is classified as Aarne-Thompson type 1890.","Joseph Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, n.d.), pp. 43-45. First published 1894.","Last Sunday morning at six o'clock in the evening as I was sailing over the tops of the mountains in my little boat, I met two men on horseback riding on one mare. So I asked them, could they tell me whether the little old woman was dead yet who was hanged last Saturday week for drowning herself in a shower of feathers? They said they could not positively inform me, but if I went to Sir Gammer Vans he could tell me all about it. 'But how am I to know the house?' said I. 'Ho, 'tis easy enough,' said they, 'for 'tis a brick house, built entirely of flints, standing alone by itself in the middle of sixty or seventy others just like it.' 'Oh, nothing in the world is easier,' said I. 'Nothing can be easier,' said they. So I went on my way. Now this Sir G. Vans was a giant, and a bottle maker. And as all giants who are bottle makers usually pop out of a little thumb-bottle from behind the door, so did Sir G. Vans. 'How d'ye do?' says he. 'Very well, I thank you,' says I. 'Have some breakfast with me?' 'With all my heart,' says I. So he gave me a slice of beer, and a cup of cold veal. And there was a little dog under the table that picked up all the crumbs. 'Hang him,' says I. 'No, don't hang him,' says he, 'for he killed a hare yesterday. And if you don't believe me, I'll show you the hare alive in a basket.' So he took me into his garden to show me the curiosities. In one corner there was a fox hatching eagle's eggs. In another there was an iron apple tree, entirely covered with pears and lead. In the third there was the hare which the dog killed yesterday alive in the basket. And in the fourth there were twenty-four hipper switches threshing tobacco, and at the sight of me they threshed so hard that they drove the plug through the wall, and through a little dog that was passing by on the other side. I, hearing the dog howl, jumped over the wall and turned it as neatly inside out as possible, when it ran away as if it had not an hour to live. Then he took me into the park to show me his deer. And I remembered that I had a warrant in my pocket to shoot venison for his majesty's dinner. So I set fire to my bow, poised my arrow, and shot amongst them. I broke seventeen ribs on one side, and twenty-one and a half on the other, but my arrow passed clean through without ever touching it, and the worst was I lost my arrow. However, I found it again in the hollow of a tree. I felt it. It felt clammy. I smelt it. It smelt honey. 'Oh, ho,' said I. 'Here's a bee's nest,' when out sprang a covey of partridges. I shot at them. Some say I killed eighteen, but I am sure I killed thirty-six, besides a dead salmon which was flying over the bridge, of which I made the best apple pie I ever tasted. London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, n.d.), pp. 43-45. First published 1894. Nursery Tales (London, 1843).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1965,The Three Brothers,Italy,Aarne-Thompson type 1965.,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1885), no. 84, pp. 263-264.","Once upon a time there were three brothers. Two had no clothes and one no shirt. The weather was very bad, and they make up their minds to go shooting. So they took down three guns -- two were broken and one had no barrel -- and walked and walked until they came at last to a meadow, where they saw a hare. They began to fire at it, but could not catch it. 'What shall we do?' said one of them. They remembered that nearby a godmother of theirs lived. So they went and knocked at her door and asked her to lend them a pot to cook the hare they had not caught. The godmother was not at home, but nevertheless she answered, 'My children, go in the kitchen and there you will find three pots, two broken and one with no bottom. Take whichever you wish.' 'Thanks, godmother!' They went into the kitchen and chose the one without a bottom and put the hare in it to cook. While the hare was cooking, one said, 'Let ask our godmother whether she has anything in her garden.' So they asked her, and she said, 'I have three walnut trees. Two are dead and one has never borne any nuts. Knock off as many as you wish.' One went and shook the tree that had never borne nuts, and a little nut fell on his hat and broke his heel. Thereupon they picked up the nuts and went to get the hare, which meanwhile was cooked, and said, 'What shall we do with so much stuff?' So they went to a village where there were many ill, and they put up a notice in the street that whoever wished might, at such and such a place, get broth given him in charity. Everyone went to get some, and they took it in the salad basket, and it was given to them with a skimmer. One who did not belong to the village drank so much of this broth that he was at the point of death. Then they went for three physicians. One was blind, one deaf, and one dumb. The blind man went in and said, 'Let me look at your tongue.' The deaf man said, 'How are you?' The dumb said, 'Give me some paper, pen, and ink.' They gave them to him, and he said, Go to the apothecary, For he knows the business. Buy two cents' worth of I know not what. Put it wherever you wish. He will get well I know not when, I will leave and commend him to you. and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1885), no. 84, pp. 263-264.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
285A,Of Good Advice,Gesta Romanorum,NA,"Gesta Romanorum, translated by Charles Swan, revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 141, pp. 246-47.","In the reign of the Emperor Fulgentius, a certain knight, named Zedechias, married a very beautiful but imprudent wife. In a certain chamber of their mansion a serpent dwelt. Now, the knight's vehement inclination for tournaments and jousting brought him to extreme poverty. He grieved immoderately, and, like one who was desperate, walked backward and forward, ignorant of what he should do. The serpent, beholding his misery, like the ass of Balaam, was on that occasion miraculously gifted with a voice, and said to the knight, 'Why do you lament? Take my advice, and you shall not repent it. Supply me every day with a certain quantity of sweet milk, and I will enrich you.' This promise exhilarated the knight, and he faithfully followed the instructions of his subtle friend. The consequence was that he had a beautiful son, and became exceedingly wealthy. But it happened that his wife one day said to him, 'My lord, I am sure that serpent has great riches hidden in the chamber where he dwells. Let us kill him and get possession of the whole.' The advice pleased the knight, and at the request of his wife he took a hammer to destroy the serpent, and a vessel of milk. Allured by the milk, it put its head out of the hole, as it had been accustomed; and the knight lifted the hammer to strike it. The serpent, observing his perfidy, suddenly drew back its head; and the blow fell upon the vessel. No sooner had he done this, than his offspring died, and he lost everything that he formerly possessed. The wife, taught by their common loss, said to him, 'Alas! I have ill counseled you; but go now to the hole of the serpent, and humbly acknowledge your offense. Peradventure you may find grace.' The knight complied, and standing before the dwelling place of the serpent, shed many tears, and entreated that he might once more be made rich. 'I see,' answered the serpent, 'I see now that you are a fool, and will always be a fool. For how can I forget that blow of the hammer which you designed me, for which reason I slew your son and took away your wealth? There can be no real peace between us.' The knight, full of sorrow, replied thus, 'I promise the most unshaken fidelity, and will never meditate the slightest injury, provided I may this once obtain your grace.' 'My friend,' said the serpent, 'it is the nature of my species to be subtle and venomous. Let what I have said suffice. The blow offered at my head is fresh upon my recollection; get you gone before you receive an injury.' The knight departed in great affliction, saying to his wife, 'Fool that I was to take your counsel!' But ever afterwards they lived in the greatest indigence. Application: My beloved, the king is God; the knight is Adam, who by following his wife's advice lost Paradise. The serpent in the chamber signifies Christ retained in the human heart, by virtue of baptism. George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 141, pp. 246-47.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
285A,The Gold-Giving Snake,The Panchatantra,"Links to other translations of this tale: 'The Gold-Giving Serpent,' Indian Fairy Tales, selected and edited by Joseph Jacobs (London: David Nutt, 1892), pp. 112-14. 'The Snake Who Paid Cash,' The Panchatantra, translated from the Sanskrit by Arthur W. Ryder (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), pp. 331-32. 'The Gold-Giving Serpent,' Indian Fairy Tales, selected and edited by Joseph Jacobs (London: David Nutt, 1892), pp. 112-14. 'The Snake Who Paid Cash,' The Panchatantra, translated from the Sanskrit by Arthur W. Ryder (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), pp. 331-32. About the Panchatantra: One of India's most influential contributions to world literature, the Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. The German Sanskrit scholar Johannes Hertel (1872-1955) believed that the original collection was compiled in Kashmir about 200 BC, and that at this time many of the stories were already ancient. The work's self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.","Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), v. 2, book 3, story 5, pp. 244-47.","In a certain place there lived a Brahman by the name of Haridatta. He tilled the soil, but his time in the field brought him no harvest. Then one day, as the hottest hours were just over, tormented by the heat, he lay down in the shade of a tree in the middle of his field for a sleep. He saw a frightful snake, decorated with a large hood, crawl from an anthill a little way off, and thought to himself, 'This is surely the goddess of the field, and I have not once paid her homage. That is why the field remains barren. I must bring her an offering.' After thus thinking it over, he got some milk, poured it into a basin, then went to the anthill, and said, 'Oh, protector of this field, for a long time I did not know that you live here. For this reason I have not yet brought you an offering. Please forgive me!' Having said this, he set forth the milk, and went home. The next day he returned to see what had happened, and he found a dinar in the basin. And thus it continued day by day. He brought the snake milk, and always found a dinar there the next morning. One day the Brahman asked his son to take the milk to the anthill, and he himself went into the village. The son brought the milk, set it there, and returned home. When he came back the next day and found a dinar, he said to himself, 'This anthill must be full of gold dinars. I will kill the snake and take them all at once!' Having decided this, the Brahman's son returned the next day with the milk and a club. As he gave the milk to the snake, he struck her on the head with the club. The snake, as fate willed it, escaped with her life. Filled with rage, she bit the boy with her sharp, poisoned teeth, and the boy fell dead at once. His people built a funeral pyre not far from the field and cremated him. Two days later his father returned. When he discovered under what circumstances his son had died, he said that justice had prevailed. The next morning, he once again took milk, went to the anthill, and praised the snake with a loud voice. A good while later the snake appeared in the entrance to the anthill, and said, 'You come here from greed, letting even your grief for your son pass by. From now on friendship between you and me will no longer be possible. Your son, in his youthful lack of understanding, struck me. I bit him. How can I forget the club's blow? How can you forget the pain and sorrow for your son?' After saying this she gave him a costly pearl for a pearl chain, said, 'Do not come back,' and disappeared into her cave. The Brahman took the pearl, cursed his son's lack of understanding, and returned home. About the Panchatantra: One of India's most influential contributions to world literature, the Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. The German Sanskrit scholar Johannes Hertel (1872-1955) believed that the original collection was compiled in Kashmir about 200 BC, and that at this time many of the stories were already ancient. The work's self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
285A,The Man and the Serpent,Aesop,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Æsop, Selected, Told Anew, and Their History Traced (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), no. 6, pp. 12-13.","A countryman's son by accident trod upon a serpent's tail, which turned and bit him so that he died. The father in a rage got his ax, and pursuing the serpent, cut off part of its tail. So the serpent in revenge began stinging several of the farmer's cattle and caused him severe loss. Well, the farmer thought it best to make it up with the serpent, and brought food and honey to the mouth of its lair, and said to it, 'Let's forget and forgive. Perhaps you were right to punish my son, and take vengeance on my cattle, but surely I was right in trying to revenge him. Now that we are both satisfied, why should not we be friends again?' 'No, no,' said the serpent. 'Take away your gifts. You can never forget the death of your son, nor I the loss of my tail. Injuries may be forgiven, but not forgotten.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
285A,The Rattlesnake's Vengeance,Native American (Cherokee),"Mooney's collection of Cherokee myths is contained in: J. W. Powell, Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology to the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, 1897-98, part 1 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1900), pp. 305-306.","James Mooney, Myths of the Cherokee, no. 58, pp. 305-306.","One day in the old times when we could still talk with other creatures, while some children were playing about the house, their mother inside heard them scream. Running out she found that a rattlesnake had crawled from the grass, and taking up a stick she killed it. The father was out hunting in the mountains, and that evening when coming home after dark through the gap he heard a strange wailing sound. Looking about he found that he had come into the midst of a whole company of rattlesnakes, which all had their mouths open and seemed to be crying. He asked them the reason of their trouble, and they told him that his own wife had that day killed their chief, the Yellow Rattlesnake, and they were just now about to send the Black Rattlesnake to take revenge. The hunter said he was very sorry, but they told him that if he spoke the truth he must be ready to make satisfaction and give his wife as a sacrifice for the life of their chief. Not knowing what might happen otherwise, he consented. They then told him that the Black Rattlesnake would go home with him and coil up just outside the door in the dark. He must go inside, where he would find his wife awaiting him, and ask her to get him a drink of fresh water from the spring. That was all. He went home and knew that the Black Rattlesnake was following. It was night when he arrived and very dark, but he found his wife waiting with his supper ready. He sat down and asked for a drink of water. She handed him a gourd full from the jar, but he said he wanted it fresh from the spring, so she took a bowl and went out of the door. The next moment he heard a cry, and going out he found that the Black Rattlesnake had bitten her and that she was already dying. He stayed with her until she was dead, when the Black Rattlesnake came out from the grass again and said his tribe was now satisfied. He then taught the hunter a prayer song, and said, 'When you meet any of us hereafter sing this song and we will not hurt you; but if by accident one of us should bite one of your people then sing this song over him and he will recover.' And the Cherokee have kept the song to this day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1215,An Unusual Ride,Switzerland/Germany,NA,"Johann Peter Hebel, 'Seltsamer Spazierritt,' Sämmtliche Werke, dritter Band: Erzählungen des rheinländischen Hausfreundes (Karlsruhe: Verlag der Chr. Fr. Müller'schen Hofbuchhandlung, 1838), pp. 11-12.","A man was riding home on his donkey, while his boy walked beside them. A traveler came along and said, 'Father, it is not right for you to ride while you make your boy walk. You have stronger limbs.' So the father climbed off the donkey and let his son ride. Another traveler came along and said, 'Boy, it is not right for you to ride while you make your father go on foot. You have younger legs.' So they both mounted the donkey and road on a little way. A third traveler came along and said, 'How stupid! Two fellows on one weak animal. Someone should take a stick and knock you off its back!' So they both climbed off, and all three went along on foot, the father and son left and right, and the donkey in the middle. A fourth traveler came along and said, 'You are three strange companions. Isn't it enough if two of you were to go on foot? Wouldn't it be easier if one of you would ride?' So the father tied the donkey's front legs together, and the son tied its back legs together. Then they put a strong pole that was lying beside the road through its legs and carried the donkey home on their shoulders. That's how far it can go if one tries to please everyone. Werke, dritter Band: Erzählungen des rheinländischen Hausfreundes (Karlsruhe: Verlag der Chr. Fr. Müller'schen Hofbuchhandlung, 1838), pp. 11-12.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1215,It Is Difficult to Please Everyone,Turkey,NA,"Ali Nouri, 'Es ist schwer, allen gerecht zu werden,' Nasreddin Khodjas Schwänke und Streiche: Türkische Geschichten aus Timurlenks Tagen (Breslau [Wroclaw]: Schlesische Verlags-Anstalt von S. Schottlaender, 1904), pp. 57-61.","After they had gone some distance they came upon some people who began talking about the pair. 'The world is getting crazier and crazier,' they said. 'That lout of a son is sitting there at ease on the donkey, making his old father walk alongside dripping with sweat.' Nasreddin Hodja heard this comment and had his son climb down, and he himself took a seat on the donkey's back. 'Now the people will be satisfied,' he murmured. Soon they came upon another group who likewise were expressing their thoughts about Nasreddin and his donkey, and indeed, loudly enough that the Hodja could hear them. 'Have you ever seen anything like that? That must be an unnatural father who makes his poor boy run on foot while he himself rides proudly along on the donkey!' The Hodja momentarily halted the donkey. 'Climb up here with me!' he said to his son. A short distance later they came upon another party, who likewise expressed their opinion clearly. 'Such animal abuse! Isn't that shameless, for a cleric to torment such a poor donkey! Couldn't the two of you use your own legs and give the donkey a little rest?' The Hodja stopped once again. 'Let's climb off!' he said to his son. They both dismounted and walked along on foot beside the donkey. But they had not gone far when they came upon another group of people who also had something to say about them. They heaped ridicule upon them: 'He must be afraid that he will rub the fur off its body.' 'Which of the three is the greatest donkey?' 'They just might as well carry the donkey home.' As soon as the people had gone on their way he said to his son, 'If you ever should come into the possession of a donkey, never trim its tail in the presence of other people. Some will say that you have cut off too much, and others that you have cut off too little. If you want to please everyone, in the end your donkey will have no tail at all.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1215,Of the Olde Man and His Sonne That Brought His Asse to the Towne to Sylle,England,Based on a book written in the fifteenth or sixteenth century. I have retained the archaic orthography and punctuation.,"The Hundred Merry Tales; or, Shakspeare's Jest Book (London: J. Chidley, 1831), pp. 62-64.","Anone he mette with other, that asked hym if the asse were his owne: By whiche wordes he coniected, that he did nat wel so to ouercharge the lyttell sely asse, that vnethe was able to b'eare one. Thus he troubled with their dyuers and manyfolde opinions: whiche neither with his asse vacant, nor he alone, nor his sonne alone, nor bothe to gether rydyng at ones on the asse, coulde passe forth with out detraction and blame: wherfore at last he bounde the asse feet to gether, and put through a staffe, and so he and his sonne began to beare the asse betwene them on their shulders to the towne. The nouelte of whiche syght caused euery body to laughe and blame the folysshenes of them both. The sely olde man was so sore agreued, that as he sat and rested hym on a ryuers syde, he threwe his asse in to the water. And so whan he had drowned his asse, he tourned home agayne. Thus the good man desyrynge to please euerye bodye, contentynge none at all, loste his asse. By this tale appereth playnelye, that they whiqhe commyt them selfe to the opinion of the common people, ben oppressed with great myserye and seruage: For how is it possible to please all, whan euery man hath a dyuers opinion, and dyuerslye iudgeth? And that was well knowen to the poet, whan he sayde, Scinditur incertum studia in contraria vulgus. And as Cicero, Persius, and Flaccus say: As many men so many myndes: as many heedes so many wyttes. That, that pleaseth one, displeaseth an other: Fewe alowe that that they loue nat: and that that a man aloweth, he thynketh good. Therfore the beste is, that euery man lyue well, as a good Christen man shulde, and care nat for the vayne wordes, and ianglynge of the people. For bablynge (as Plutarchus sayth) is a greuous disease, and hard to be remedied. For that that shulde heale it (which is wordes of wisdome) cureth them that harkneth there vnto: but pratlers wille here none but them selfe.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1215,The Lady's Nineteenth Story,Turkey,NA,"Sheykh-Zada, The History of the Forty Vezirs; or, The Story of the Forty Morns and Nights, translated by E. J. W. Gibb (London: George Redway, 1886), pp. 218-19.","In the by-gone time an old gardener had mounted his son upon an ass and was proceeding to the garden, himself on foot. They met some men who said, 'See this old pederast, how he has mounted the boy upon the ass; and is himself running alongside.' Whenever the old man heard this he made the boy alight and mounted himself. Again they met some other folk, these likewise said, 'Look at this heartless old man, he rides the ass himself and makes the poor child go on foot.' Whenever the old man heard this he took his son up in front of him. Then some people saw them and said, 'See this old pederast, how he has taken the boy up in front of him.' The old man heard this, and he put his son up behind him. Again certain folks saw them and said, 'See this old catamite, how he has taken the boy up behind him.' The old man knew not what to do, so he put his son down and alighted himself and drove the ass before them. The garden was near, and both of them were on foot, and they reached the garden before meeting with any others. Nights, translated by E. J. W. Gibb (London: George Redway, 1886), 218-19.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1215,"The Man, the Boy, and the Donkey",Aesop,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Æsop (London: Macmillan and Company, 1902), no. 63, pp. 149-51.","But soon they passed a group of men, one of whom said, 'See that lazy youngster, he lets his father walk while he rides.' So the man ordered his boy to get off, and got on himself. But they hadn't gone far when they passed two women, one of whom said to the other, 'Shame on that lazy lout to let his poor little son trudge along.' Well, the man didn't know what to do, but at last he took his boy up before him on the donkey. By this time they had come to the town, and the passersby began to jeer and point at them. The man stopped and asked what they were scoffing at. The men said, 'Aren't you ashamed of yourself for overloading that poor donkey of yours -- you and your hulking son?' The man and boy got off and tried to think what to do. They thought and they thought, until at last they cut down a pole, tied the donkey's feet to it, and raised the pole and the donkey to their shoulders. They went along amid the laughter of all who met them until they came to a bridge, when the donkey, getting one of his feet loose, kicked out and caused the boy to drop his end of the pole. In the struggle the donkey fell over the bridge, and his forefeet being tied together, he was drowned. Try to please everyone, and you will please no one.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
313,Mastermaid,NA,"Aarne-Thompson-Uther types 313, 882A* D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Mestermø, Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo], 1842-1852), translated by George Webb Dasent (1859).","Once upon a time there was a king who had several sons. I don't know exactly how many there were. The youngest had no rest at home, for nothing would please him but to go out into the world and try his luck. After a long time the king was had to let him go. After he had traveled some days, he came to a giant's house, and there he got a place in the giant's service. In the morning the giant went off to herd his goats, and as he left the yard he told the prince to clean out the stable. He said, 'After you have finished, you can have the rest of the day off, for you must know that you have come to an easy master. But when you are asked to do something, you must do it well, and don't even think of going into any of the rooms that are beyond the one where you slept last night, for if you do, it will cost you your life.' 'I surely do have an easy master,' said the prince to himself, as he walked up and down the room humming and singing, for he thought there was plenty of time to clean out the stable. 'But it would be good to take just a peep into his other rooms, for there must be something in them that he doesn't want me to see, since he won't allow me to enter them.' He went into the first room, and there was a pot boiling on a hook by the wall, but the prince saw no fire underneath it. 'I wonder what is inside it,' he thought. He dipped a lock of his hair into it, and the hair seemed to have turned to copper. 'What a strange stew,' he said. 'If you tasted it, it would do something to your gullet.' With that he went into the next room. There, too, was a pot hanging by a hook. It, too, was bubbling and boiling, although there was also no fire under it. 'I may as well try this too,' said the prince. He put another lock into the pot, and it came out looking like silver. 'We don't have such expensive stew at my father's house,' said the prince. 'But the important thing is how it tastes.' With that he went into the third room. There, too, hung a pot, boiling just as he had seen in the two other rooms, and the prince wanted to test this one as well, so he dipped a lock of hair into it, and it came out looking like pure gold, so that it gleamed. 'Is this getting worse and worse, or better and better?' asked the prince. 'If he is cooking up gold in here, I wonder what he is cooking up in the next room.' He wanted to see, so he went through the door into the fourth room. Well, there was no pot to be seen in there, but there was a girl seated on a bench. -- She had to be a princess. Whoever she was, she was so beautiful that the prince had never seen anyone like her all his born days. 'Oh, in Jesus' name,' she said, 'what are you doing here?' 'I entered service here yesterday,' said the prince. 'Service indeed! May God help you out of it!' she said. 'Well, I think I've got an easy master. He hasn't given me much to do today. My day's work is finished as soon as I have cleaned out the stable.' 'Yes, but how will you do it?' she said; 'for if you set to work to clean it like other people, ten pitchforks full will come back in for every one that you throw out. But I will teach you what to do. Turn the fork upside down, and throw with the handle, and then everything will fly out by itself.' He said that he would do it that way, and then he sat there the whole day, for he and the princess soon decided that they wanted to get married. Thus, the first day of his service with the giant went by very quickly indeed. As evening approached, she said that he should go and clean out the stable before the giant came home. He went out to the stable, and thought he would just see if what she had said were true, and so he began to work like he had seen the servants in his father's stable do; but he soon had to stop, for he hadn't worked a minute before the stable was so full of dung that he hadn't room to stand. Then he did what the princess had told him to do: He turned the fork upside down and worked with the handle. In an instant the stable was as clean as if it had been scoured. When he was finished he went back to the room that the giant had given him, and began to walk up and down, humming and singing. After a while, the giant came home with his goats. 'Have you cleaned the stable?' asked the giant. 'Yes, master, it's all spic-and-span,' answered the prince. 'I'll soon see if it is,' growled the giant, and strode off to the stable, where he found it just as the prince had said. 'You've been talking to my Mastermaid, I can see,' said the giant; 'for you didn't suck this knowledge out of your own breast.' 'Mastermaid!' said the prince, playing dumb, 'what sort of thing is that, master? I'd like to see one.' 'Well!' said the giant, 'you'll see her soon enough.' The next day the giant again went out with his goats. Before leaving he told the prince to bring in his horse, which was out grazing on the pasture, and when he had done that he could take the rest of the day off. 'For you must know that you have come to an easy master,' said the giant; 'but if you go into any of the rooms I spoke of yesterday, I'll rip your head off.' Then off he went with his flock of goats. 'You are indeed an easy master,' said the prince; 'but I still I would like to have a chat with your Mastermaid. Maybe she'd just as soon be mine as yours!' So he went to her, and she asked him what he had to do that day. 'Oh, nothing to be afraid of,' he said. 'I only have to go up to the pasture and bring in his horse.' 'Very well, and how will you go about doing it?' 'Well, there's nothing very difficult about riding a horse home. I have ridden many a frisky horse before now,' said the prince. 'This task will not be as easy as you think, 'she said, 'but I'll teach you how to do it. When you see it, it will come up to you breathing fire and flame out of its nostrils like a pitch torch. You must take the bit that is hanging behind the door over there. Throw it into his mouth, and he will grow so tame that you can do anything that you want to with him.' He said that he would do that and so he sat there the whole day, talking and chatting with Mastermaid about one thing and another. But they talked about how happy they would be if they could only get married, and get away from the giant. To tell the truth, the prince would have forgotten both the horse and the pasture if Mastermaid hadn't reminded him of them as evening was approaching. She told him that he had better go out bring the horse in before the giant came home. So he set off. Taking the bit which hung in the corner, he ran up to the pasture, and it wasn't long before he met the horse, with fire and flame blowing out of its nostrils. But he took his time, and when the horse came up to him, with its jaws wide apart, he threw the bit into its mouth, and the horse became as gentle as a lamb. After that it was not at all difficult to ride it home and put it into the stable. Then the prince went to his room, and began to hum and sing. When the giant came home that evening with his goats, the first words that he said were, 'Have you brought my horse down from the pasture?' 'Yes, master, that I have,' said the prince; 'and although it is a wonderful riding horse, I rode it straight home to the stable.' 'I'll just check on that,' said the giant, and ran out to the stable. The horse was standing there just as the prince had said. 'You've been talking to my Mastermaid, you have!' said the giant again. 'You haven't sucked this out of your own breast.' 'Yesterday master talked of this Mastermaid, and today it's the same story. God bless you, master! Won't you show me the thing at once? I really would like to see it,' said the prince, pretending to be simple-minded and stupid. 'You'll get to see her soon enough,' said the giant. On the third day at dawn the giant went out into the woods again with his goats. Before leaving he said to the prince, 'Today you must go to Hell and get my fire tax. When you have done that you can have the rest of the day off, for you must know that you have come to an easy master.' And with that off he went. 'Easy master, indeed!' said the prince. 'You may be easy, but you give me hard tasks all the same. I may as well see if I can find your Mastermaid. You claim that she belongs to you, but I'll see if she won't tell me what to do,' and so he went to her once again. Mastermaid asked what the giant had asked him to do that day, and he told her how he was to go to Hell and fetch the fire tax. 'And how will you go about it?' asked Mastermaid. 'You will have to tell me,' said the prince, 'for I have never been to Hell in my life. Even if I knew the way, I wouldn't know how much I am to ask for.' 'Well, I'll tell you,' said Mastermaid. 'Go to the steep cliff over there beyond the pasture. Take the club that is lying there and knock on the face of the cliff. Someone who is all glowing with fire will come out. Tell him about your errand. When he asks you how much you need, say, 'As much as I can carry.'' He said that he would do just that, and then he sat there with Mastermaid all that day too. Although evening was approaching, he would have sat there until now, if Mastermaid had not reminded him that it was time to be off to Hell to fetch the giant's fire tax before he came home. So he went on his way, and did just as Mastermaid had told him. When he reached the rock he picked up the club and gave a great thump. The cliff opened, and out came a person whose face was aglow, and from whose eyes and nostrils flew sparks of fire. 'What do you want?' he said. 'I've come from the giant to fetch his fire tax,' said the prince. 'How much do you need?' said the other. 'I never ask for more than I am able to carry,' said the prince. 'Lucky for you that you did not ask for a whole horseload,' said the man from the cliff; 'but come now into the cliff with me, and you shall have it.' So the prince went inside with him, and what heaps and heaps of gold and silver he saw lying in there, just like stones in a gravel pit. He got a load just as big as he was able to carry, and set off for home with it. When the giant came home with his goats that evening, the prince went into his room, and began to hum and sing just as he had done the evenings before. 'Have you been to Hell after my fire tax?' roared the giant. 'Oh yes, that I have, master,' answered the prince. 'Where did you put it?' said the giant. 'The sack is on the bench over there,' said the prince. 'I'll check on that,' said the giant, and went to the bench. There he saw that the sack was so full that the gold and silver dropped out on the floor as soon as he untied the string. 'You've been talking to my Mastermaid, that I can see,' said the giant; 'and if you have, I'll rip your head off.' 'Mastermaid!' said the prince; 'yesterday master talked of this Mastermaid, and today he talks of her again, and the day before yesterday it was the same story. I only wish I could see what sort of thing she is, I do!' 'Well, wait until tomorrow,' said the giant, 'and then I'll take you in to her myself.' 'Thank you kindly, master,' said the prince; 'but I'll bet that master is only joking.' The next day the giant took him in to Mastermaid, and said to her, 'You must cut his throat, and boil him in the great big pot, you know the one I mean, and when the stew is ready just give me a call.' Then he lay down on the bench to sleep, and began to snore so loud that it sounded like thunder in the mountains. Mastermaid took a knife and cut the prince in his little finger, and let three drops of blood fall on a stool. Then she took all the old rags and soles of shoes, and all the rubbish she could lay her hands on, and put it all into the pot. She then filled a chest full of ground gold, and took a lump of salt, and a flask of water that hung behind the door, and she took, besides, a golden apple, and two golden chickens, and off she went with the prince, away from the giant's house as fast as they could. When they had gone a little way they came to the sea, and after that they sailed over the sea; but I do not know where they got the ship from. After the giant had slept a good bit, he began to stretch as he lay on the bench, and called out, 'Will it soon be done?' 'Only just begun,' answered the first drop of blood on the stool. So the giant went back to sleep, and slumbered a long, long time. At last he began to toss about a little, and cried out, 'Do you hear what I say? Will it soon be done?' But he did not look up this time any more than the first, for he was still half asleep. 'Half done,' said the second drop of blood. The giant again thought it was Mastermaid, so he turned over on his other side, and fell asleep again. When he had slept for many hours, he began to stir and stretch his old bones, and he called out, 'Isn't it done yet?' 'Done to a turn,' said the third drop of blood. So the giant got up, and began to rub his eyes, but he couldn't see who it was that was talking to him. He searched and called for Mastermaid, but no one answered. 'Ah, well! I dare say she's just gone outside for a bit,' he thought, and took up a spoon and went up to the pot to taste the stew. There he found nothing but shoe soles, and rags, and such stuff, all boiled up together, so that he couldn't tell the thick from the thin. As soon as he saw this, he realized what had happened, and he became so angry that he barely knew which leg to stand upon. Away he went after the prince and Mastermaid, until the wind whistled behind him; but he soon came to the water and couldn't cross it. 'Never mind,' he said; 'I can fix this. I'll just call on my stream-sucker.' So he called on his stream-sucker, and he came and stooped down, and took one, two, three, gulps; and then the water fell so much in the sea that the giant could see Mastermaid and the prince sailing in their ship. 'Throw out the lump of salt!' said Mastermaid. So the prince threw it overboard, and it grew up into a mountain so high, right across the sea, that the giant couldn't pass it, and the stream-sucker couldn't help him by swallowing up any more water. 'Never mind,' cried the giant. 'There's a fix for this too.' So he called on his hill-borer to come and bore through the mountain, so the stream-sucker might crawl through and take another swallow; but just as they had made a hole through the hill, and the stream-sucker was about to drink, Mastermaid told the prince to pour a drop or two out of the flask into the sea, and then the sea was just as full as ever, and before the stream-sucker could take another gulp, they reached the land and were saved from the giant. So they made up their minds to go home to the prince's father; but the prince would not hear of Mastermaid's walking, for he did not think it would be appropriate, neither for her nor for him. 'Just wait here ten minutes,' he said, 'while I go home after the seven horses which stand in my father's stall. It's not very far, and I won't be gone very long; I will not hear of my sweetheart walking to my father's palace.' 'No!' said Mastermaid, 'please don't leave me, for once you are home in your palace you'll forget me outright; I know you will.' 'Oh!' said the prince, 'how can I forget you; you with whom I have gone through so much, and whom I love so dearly?' There was no stopping him, he insisted on going home to fetch the coach and seven horses, and she was to wait for him by the seaside. Finally Mastermaid gave in. 'But when you get home,' she warned, 'don't even take the time to greet anyone, but go straight to the stable, hitch up the horses, and drive back as quickly as you can. They will all come to you, but you must pretend that you cannot see them; and above all else, do not eat anything, for if you do, we shall both come to grief.' The prince promised all of this. Now, just as he came home to the palace, one of his brothers was preparing to get married. The bride, with all her relatives, had just arrived at the palace. They all thronged around him, and asked about this thing and that, and wanted him to go inside with them. He pretended that he could not see them, and went straight to the stall and began to hitch up the horses. When they saw they could not get him to go inside, they came out to him with food and drink, the best of everything they had prepared for the feast, but the prince would not taste a thing, but busied himself with the horses. Finally the bride's sister rolled an apple across the yard to him, saying, 'Well, if you won't eat anything else, at least take a bite of this, for you must be hungry and thirsty after your long journey.' So he picked up the apple and took a bite out of it. He barely had the piece in his mouth before he forgot Mastermaid, and that he was going to drive back for her. 'I must be crazy,' he said. 'What am I doing here with this coach and horses?' So he put the horses back into the stable, and went along with the others into the palace, and it was soon settled that he should marry the bride's sister, who had rolled the apple to him. Mastermaid sat by the seashore, and waited and waited for the prince, but the prince did not come. Finally she left the shore, and walked a while until she came to a little hut, which stood by itself in a grove near the king's palace. She went in and asked if she might stay there. The hut belonged to an old woman, who was a disgusting and cranky old hag. At first she would not hear of Mastermaid's lodging in her house, but finally, in exchange for kind words and high rent, Mastermaid was permitted to stay there. The hut was as dark and dirty as a pigsty, so Mastermaid said she would clean it up a little, so that their house might look like other people's. The old hag did not like this either, and complained and became angry; but Mastermaid did not pay any attention to her. She took her chest of gold, and threw a handful or so into the fire. The gold melted and bubbled over out of the grate, spreading itself over the whole hut, until it was entirely plated with gold, both outside and in. But as soon as the gold began to bubble up, the old hag became so afraid that she ran out as if the evil one were after her. As she ran through the door, she forgot to stoop down, and she crushed her head against the door frame. The next morning the sheriff passed that way. He could scarce believe his eyes when he saw the golden hut shining and glistening there in the grove; but he was still more astonished when he went in and saw the lovely maiden who was sitting there. He fell in love with her at once, and begged her on the spot to marry him. 'Very well, but do you have a lot of money?' asked Mastermaid. He said that he had plenty, and he went home to fetch it. That evening he came back with a half-bushel sack filled with money, and set it down on the bench. Mastermaid said that he was rich enough and that she would have him. They went to bed together, but they had barely lain down before she said she must get up again, because she had forgotten to bank up the fire. 'Please don't get up,' said the sheriff; 'I'll take care of it.' He jumped out of bed, and ran to the hearth. 'Tell me as soon as you have taken hold of the poker,' said Mastermaid. 'I'm holding it now,' said the sheriff. Then Mastermaid said, 'God grant that you may hold the poker and that the poker may hold you, and may you heap hot burning coals over yourself until morning.' So the sheriff had to stand there all night long, shoveling hot burning coals over himself. He begged, and prayed, and wept, but none of this made the coals a bit colder. As soon as day broke, and he finally was able to rid himself of the poker, he set off as though the bailiff or the devil were after him. Everyone who met him stared at him, for he acted like a madman, and looked like he had been flayed and tanned. They wondered what had happened to him, but he was too ashamed to tell anyone. The next day the district judge passed by the place where Mastermaid lived, and he too saw how it gleamed and glistened in the grove, and he went inside to find out who lived there. When he saw the beautiful maiden, he fell even more madly in love with her than had the sheriff, and he immediately began to woo her. Mastermaid responded to him, as she had responded to the sheriff, by asking if he had a lot of money. The judge replied that he was wealthy enough, and to prove it he went home to fetch his money. That evening he came back with a large sack of money -- I think that the sack held a whole bushel -- and set it down on the bench. So she accepted him, and they went to bed. But Mastermaid had forgotten to shut the outside door, and she would have to get up and lock it for the night. 'What! You should do that!' said the judge. 'No, you lie here, and I'll go and take care of it.' He jumped up like a pea on a drumhead, and ran into the hallway. 'Tell me when you have hold of the door latch' said Mastermaid. 'I've got hold of it now,' said the judge. 'Then may you hold the door, and may the door hold you, and may you go back and forth until morning!' said Mastermaid. And so the judge had to dance the whole night through. He had never experienced such a waltz before, and would not want to experience such a waltz again. He pulled the door one way, and then the door pulled him back the other; and so it went on and on. First he was dashed into one corner of the hallway, and then into the other, until he was almost battered to death. At first he cursed and swore; then he begged and prayed, but the door cared for nothing but holding its own until the break of day. As soon as it let him go, the judge ran off, leaving his money behind to pay for his night's lodging, and forgetting his courtship altogether, for -- to tell the truth -- he was afraid that the door might come dancing after him. Everyone who met him stared and gaped at him, for he too acted like a madman, and he would not have looked worse if he had spent the whole night butting against a flock of rams. On the third day the bailiff passed that way, and he too saw the golden hut, and went inside to find out who lived there. He had barely set eyes on Mastermaid before he began to woo her. So she responded to him as she had with the other two. If he had lots of money she would have him; if not, he might as well go about his business. Well, the bailiff said that he wasn't so badly off, and that he would go home and fetch the money. When he came back that evening, he had a bigger sack even than the judge had had -- it must have been at least a bushel and a half -- , and put it down on the bench. So it was soon settled that he was to have Mastermaid, but they had barely gone to bed before Mastermaid said she had forgotten to bring the calf home from the meadow, so she would have to get up and drive him into the stall. 'No!' swore the bailiff. He would go and take care of it. And stout and fat as he was, he jumped up as nimbly as a young boy. 'Tell me when you've got hold of the calf's tail,' said Mastermaid. 'I have hold of it now,' said the bailiff. 'Then may you hold the calf's tail, and may the calf's tail hold you, and may you tour the world together until morning.' The race began at once. Away they went, he and the calf, over high and low, across hill and dale, and the more the bailiff cursed and swore, the faster the calf ran and jumped. By dawn the poor bailiff had nearly collapsed, and he was so glad to be able to let go of the calf's tail that he forgot his sack of money and everything else. He was a large man, and he went home a little slower than the judge and the sheriff had done, and the slower he went the more time people had to gape and stare at him; and I must say they made good use of their time, for he was terribly tattered and torn from his dance with the calf. The next day there was to be a wedding at the palace, the elder prince to be married. And the younger one, the one who had lived with the giant, was to marry the bride's sister. They had just got into the coach and were about to drive off, when one of the harness pins snapped off. They put in another, and then a third, but they all broke, whatever kind of wood they used to make them with. It all took a long time, and they couldn't get to church, and everyone became very unhappy. All at once the sheriff said -- for he too had been invited to the wedding -- that a maiden lived over there in the grove, 'And if you can only get her to lend you her fireplace poker, I know very well that it will hold.' They sent a messenger at once, and he asked the maiden very politely if she would not mind lending them the poker that the sheriff had spoken of. The maiden said 'yes,' they might have it; so they got a harness pin which wasn't likely to break. But just as they were driving off, the bottom of the coach fell apart. They set to work to make a new bottom as best they could; but however many nails they used nor whatever kind of wood they chose, as soon as they put a new bottom into the coach, it fell apart again as soon as they drove off, so they were even worse off than when they had broken the harness pin. Then the judge said -- for if the sheriff was there, you may be sure that the judge was there too -- 'A maiden lives over there in the grove, and if you could only get her to lend you half of her outside door, I know it would hold together.' They sent another message to the grove, and he asked very politely if they couldn't borrow the golden door that the judge had described; and they got it on the spot. They were just setting out, but now the horses were not strong enough to draw the coach, though there were six of them; then they put on eight, and ten, and twelve, but the more they put on, and the more the coachman whipped, the more the coach wouldn't stir an inch. By this time it was late in the day, and everyone about the palace was very unhappy; they had to make it to the church, and yet it looked as if they would never get there. Then the bailiff said that a maiden lived in the golden hut over there in the grove, and if they could only borrow her calf, 'I know it can pull the coach, even if it were as heavy as a mountain.' Well, they all thought it would look silly to be drawn to church by a calf, but there was nothing they could do about it, so they had to send a third time, and ask very politely in the king's name, if he couldn't borrow the calf the bailiff had spoken of, and Mastermaid let them have it on the spot, for she was not going to say 'no' this time either. So they put the calf on before the horses, and waited to see if it would do any good, and away went the coach over high and low, and stock and stone, so that they could barely catch their breath; sometimes they were on the ground, and sometimes up in the air, and when they reached the church, the calf began to run around and around it like a spinning wheel, so that they had a hard time getting out of the coach, and into the church. On the way back home they went even faster, and they reached the palace almost before they knew they had set out. Now when they sat down to dinner, the prince -- the one who had been with the giant -- said he thought they ought to ask the maiden who had lent them her poker, her door, and her calf, to come up to the palace. 'For,' he said he, 'if we hadn't got these three things, we would still be stuck here.' The king thought that that was only right and fair, so he sent five of his best men down to the golden hut to greet the maiden from the king, and to ask her if she wouldn't be so good as to come and dine at the palace. 'Send the king my greetings,' said Mastermaid, 'and tell him, if he's too good to come to me, then I am too good to go to him.' So the king had to go himself, and then Mastermaid went with him without any more bother; and as the king thought she was more than she seemed to be, he sat her down in the highest seat by the side of the youngest bridegroom. Now, when they had sat a little while at the table, Mastermaid took out her golden apple, and the golden cock and hen, which she had carried off from the giant, and put them down on the table before her, and the cock and hen began at once to peck at one another, and to fight for the golden apple. 'Just look,' said the prince; 'and see how those two are struggling for the apple.' 'Yes, just as we two had to struggle to escape from the cliff,' said Mastermaid. Then the spell was broken, and the prince knew her again, and he was very glad indeed. But as for the witch who had rolled the apple over to him, he had her tied to twenty-four horses and torn to pieces, so that there was not a bit of her left. Then they celebrated the wedding for real. And even though they were still stiff and sore, the sheriff, the judge, and the bailiff kept it up with the best of them. Revised January 21, 2020",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
782,March's Ears (1),Wales,"Rhys gives both oral and printed sources for this tale, including the periodical Y Brython (edited by D. S. Evans) for 1860, p. 431, and a document written in 1693 by Edward Llyd. Amheirchion, as Rhys explains in a footnote, is a linguistic variation of ab Meirchion. Amheirchion","John Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1901), v. 1, pp. 233-234.","One of Arthur's warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion, was lord of Castellmarch in Lleyn. This man had horse's ears (resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill every man he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not be able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to bury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make a pipe. The pipe would give no other sound than 'March Amheirchion has horse's ears.' When the warrior heard this, he would probably have killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself failed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing where the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either the murders or his ears. Oxford University Press, 1901), v. 1, pp. 233-234. Rhys gives both oral and printed sources for this tale, including the periodical Y Brython (edited by D. S. Evans) for 1860, p. 431, and a document written in 1693 by Edward Llyd. Amheirchion, as Rhys explains in a footnote, is a linguistic variation of ab Meirchion.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
782,March's Ears (2),Wales,NA,"W. Jenkyn Thomas, The Welsh Fairy Book (London: T. Fisher Unwin, Ltd., [1908], pp. 93-95.","March ab Meirchion was lord of Castellmarch, in Lleyn. He ruled over leagues of rich land, tilled by hundreds of willing and obedient vassals. He had great possessions, fleet horses, greyhounds, hawks, countless black cattle and sheep, and a great herd of swine. (But few possessed pigs at that time, and their flesh was esteemed better than the flesh of oxen. Arthur himself sought to have one of March's sows.) In his palace he had much treasure of gold, silver, and Conway pearls, and all men envied him. But March was not happy. He had a secret, and day and night he was torn with dread lest it should be discovered. He had horse's ears! To no one was the secret known except his barber. This man he compelled to take a solemn oath that he would not reveal his deformity to any living soul. If he wittingly or unwittingly should let anyone know that March's ears were other than human, March swore that he would cut his head off. The barber became as unhappy as March. Indeed his wretchedness was greater, because his fate would be worse if the secret were revealed. March would undergo ridicule, which is certainly a serious thing, but the barber would undergo decapitation, which is much more serious. The secret disagreed with his constitution so violently that he lost his appetite and his color, and began to fall into a decline. So ill did he become that he had to call in a physician. This man was skilled in his craft, and he said to the barber, 'You are being killed by a suppressed secret. Unless you communicate it to someone you will soon be in your grave.' This announcement did not give the barber much consolation. He explained to the physician that if he did as he was directed he would lose his head. If in any event he had to come to the end of his earthly career, he preferred being interred with his head joined to, rather than separated from, his trunk. The physician then suggested that he should tell his secret to the ground. The barber thought there was not much danger to his cervical vertebrae (this is the learned name for neck bones) if he did this, and adopted the suggestion. He was at once relieved. His color and appetite gradually came back, and before long he was as strong and well as he had ever been. Now it happened that a fine crop of reeds grew on the spot where the barber whispered his secret to the ground. March prepared a great feast, and sent for one of Maelgwn Gwynedd's pipers, who was the best piper in the word, to make music for his guests. On his way to Castellmarch, the piper observed these fine reeds, and as his old pipe was getting worn out, he cut them and made an excellent new pipe. When his guests had eaten and drunk, March ordered the piper to play. What was the surprise of all when the pipe gave out no music, but only the words, 'Horse's ears for March ab Meirchion, horse's ears for March ab Meirchion,' over and over again. March drew his sword and would have slain the piper, but the hapless musician begged for mercy. He was not to blame, he said. He had tried to play his wonted music, but the pipe was charmed, and do what he would, he could get nothing out of it but the words, 'Horse's ears for March ab Meirchion.' March tried the pipe himself, but even he could not elicit any strains from it, but only the words, 'Horse's ears for March ab Meirchion.' So he forgave the piper and made no further effort to conceal his deformity.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
782,Midas,Greece,"Bulfinch's source: Ovid, Metamorphoses, book 11, and other classical writers.","Thomas Bulfinch, The Age of Fable (1855), chapter 6.","Bacchus, on a certain occasion, found his old schoolmaster and foster-father, Silenus, missing. The old man had been drinking, and in that state wandered away, and was found by some peasants, who carried him to their king, Midas. Midas recognized him, and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with an unceasing round of jollity. On the eleventh day he brought Silenus back, and restored him in safety to his pupil. Whereupon Bacchus offered Midas his choice of a reward, whatever he might wish. He asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into gold. Bacchus consented, though sorry that he had not made a better choice. Midas went his way, rejoicing in his new-acquired power, which he hastened to put to the test. He could scarce believe his eyes when he found a twig of an oak, which he plucked from the branch, become gold in his hand. He took up a stone; it changed to gold. He touched a sod; it did the same. He took up an apple from the tree; you would have thought he had robbed the garden of the Hesperides. His joy knew no bounds, and as soon as he got home, he ordered the servants to set a splendid repast on the table. Then he found to his dismay that whether he touched bread, it hardened in his hand; or put a morsel to his lip, it defied his teeth. He took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his throat like melted gold. In consternation at the unprecedented affliction, he strove to divest himself of his power; he hated the gift he had lately coveted. But all in vain; starvation seemed to await him. He raised his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to Bacchus, begging to be delivered from his glittering destruction. Bacchus, merciful deity, heard and consented. 'Go,' said he, 'to River Pactolus, trace its fountain-head, there plunge yourself and body in, and wash away your fault and its punishment.' He did so, and scarce had he touched the waters before the gold-creating power passed into them, and the river sands became changed into gold, as they remain to this day. Thenceforth Midas, hating wealth and splendor, dwelt in the country, and became a worshipper of Pan, the god of the fields. On a certain occasion Pan had the temerity to compare his music with that of Apollo, and to challenge the god of the lyre to a trial of skill. The challenge was accepted, and Tmolus, the mountain god, was chosen umpire. The senior took his seat, and cleared away the trees from his ears to listen. At a given signal Pan blew on his pipes, and with his rustic melody gave great satisfaction to himself and his faithful follower Midas, who happened to be present. Then Tmolus turned his head toward the Sun-god, and all his trees turned with him. Apollo rose, his brow wreathed with Parnassian laurel, while his robe of Tyrian purple swept the ground. In his left hand he held the lyre, and with his right hand struck the strings. Ravished with the harmony, Tmolus at once awarded the victory to the god of the lyre, and all but Midas acquiesced in the judgment. He dissented, and questioned the justice of the award. Apollo would not suffer such a depraved pair of ears any longer to wear the human form, but caused them to increase in length, grow hairy, within and without, and movable on their roots; in short, to be on the perfect pattern of those of an ass. Mortified enough was King Midas at this mishap: but he consoled himself with the thought that it was possible to hide his misfortune, which he attempted to do by means of an ample turban or head-dress. But his hairdresser of course knew the secret. He was charged not to mention it, and threatened with dire punishment if he presumed to disobey. But he found it too much for his discretion to keep such a secret; so he went out into the meadow, dug a hole in the ground, and stooping down, whispered the story, and covered it up. Before long a thick bed of reeds sprang up in the meadow, and as soon as it had gained its growth, began whispering the story, and has continued to do so, from that day to this, every time a breeze passes over the place.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
782,The Child with the Ears of an Ox,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 53, p. 171.","Once upon a time a son was born to a certain raja, and the child had the ears of an ox. The raja was very much ashamed and let no one know. But the secret could not be kept from the barber who had to perform the ceremony of shaving the child's head. However, the raja made the barber vow not to tell anyone of what he had seen. So the barber went away, but the secret which he might not tell had an unfortunate effect. It made his stomach swell to an enormous size. As the barber went along in this unhappy condition he met a Dom [member of a low caste, comprising scavangers, basketmakers, and drummers] who asked why his stomach was so swollen. The barber said that it was because he had shaved the raja's child and had seen that it had the ears of an ox. Directly he had broken his vow and blurted out the secret, his stomach returned to its usual size. The Dom went his way and cut down a tree and made a drum out of the wood, and went about playing on the drum and begging. He came to the raja's palace, and there he drummed and sang: The son of the raja Has the ears of an ox. When the raja heard this, he was very angry, and swore to punish the barber who must have broken his vow. But the Dom assured the raja that he knew nothing about the matter, that it was the drum that sang the words and not he, and that he had no idea what they meant. So the raja was pacified, and the barber was not punished. Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 53, p. 171.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
782,The Goat's Ears of the Emperor Trojan,Serbia,Lang's source: Volksmärchen der Serben.,"Andrew Lang, The Violet Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1901), pp. 52-54.","Once upon a time there lived an emperor whose name was Trojan, and he had ears like a goat. Every morning, when he was shaved, he asked if the man saw anything odd about him, and as each fresh barber always replied that the emperor had goat's ears, he was at once ordered to be put to death. Now after this state of things had lasted a good while, there was hardly a barber left in the town that could shave the emperor, and it came to be the turn of the Master of the Company of Barbers to go up to the palace. But, unluckily, at the very moment that he should have set out, the master fell suddenly ill, and told one of his apprentices that he must go in his stead. When the youth was taken to the emperor's bedroom, he was asked why he had come and not his master. The young man replied that the master was ill, and there was no one but himself who could be trusted with the honor. The emperor was satisfied with the answer, and sat down, and let a sheet of fine linen be put round him. Directly the young barber began his work, he, like the rest, remarked the goat's ears of the emperor, but when he had finished and the emperor asked his usual question as to whether the youth had noticed anything odd about him, the young man replied calmly, 'No, nothing at all.' This pleased the emperor so much that he gave him twelve ducats, and said, 'Henceforth you shall come every day to shave me.' So when the apprentice returned home, and the master inquired how he had got on with the emperor, the young man answered, 'Oh, very well, and he says I am to shave him every day, and he has given me these twelve ducats'; but he said nothing about the goat's ears of the emperor. From this time the apprentice went regularly up to the palace, receiving each morning twelve ducats in payment. But after a while, his secret, which he had carefully kept, burnt within him, and he longed to tell it to somebody. His master saw there was something on his mind, and asked what it was. The youth replied that he had been tormenting himself for some months, and should never feel easy until some one shared his secret. 'Well, trust me,' said the master, 'I will keep it to myself; or, if you do not like to do that, confess it to your pastor, or go into some field outside the town and dig a hole, and, after you have dug it, kneel down and whisper your secret three times into the hole. Then put back the earth and come away.' The apprentice thought that this seemed the best plan, and that very afternoon went to a meadow outside the town, dug a deep hole, then knelt and whispered to it three times over, 'The Emperor Trojan has goat's ears.' And as he said so a great burden seemed to roll off him, and he shoveled the earth carefully back and ran lightly home. Weeks passed away, and there sprang up in the hole an elder tree which had three stems, all as straight as poplars. Some shepherds, tending their flocks near by, noticed the tree growing there, and one of them cut down a stem to make flutes of; but, directly he began to play, the flute would do nothing but sing: 'The Emperor Trojan has goat's ears.' Of course, it was not long before the whole town knew of this wonderful flute and what it said; and, at last, the news reached the emperor in his palace. He instantly sent for the apprentice and said to him, 'What have you been saying about me to all my people?' The culprit tried to defend himself by saying that he had never told anyone what he had noticed; but the emperor, instead of listening, only drew his sword from its sheath, which so frightened the poor fellow that he confessed exactly what he had done, and how he had whispered the truth three times to the earth, and how in that very place an elder tree had sprung up, and flutes had been cut from it, which would only repeat the words he had said. Then the emperor commanded his coach to be made ready, and he took the youth with him, and they drove to the spot, for he wished to see for himself whether the young man's confession was true; but when they reached the place only one stem was left. So the emperor desired his attendants to cut him a flute from the remaining stem, and, when it was ready, he ordered his chamberlain to play on it. But no tune could the chamberlain play, though he was the best flute player about the court -- nothing came but the words, 'The Emperor Trojan has goat's ears.' Then the emperor knew that even the earth gave up its secrets, and he granted the young man his life, but he never allowed him to be his barber any more. Green, and Company, 1901), pp. 52-54.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
782,The King with the Horse's Ears,Ireland,NA,"Abstracted from Patrick Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts, 2nd edition (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1891, pp. 219-225.","The story I'm going to tell you is not to be met every day. I heard little Tom Kennedy, the great schoolmaster of Rossard, say that he read it in the history of Ireland, and that it happened before the people were Christian. It is about a king who had his hair cut only once a year. He lived in some old city on the borders of Carlow and Kilkenny, and his name was a queer one: Lora Lonshach it was. So, as I said, he got his hair cut only once a year, and afterward nothing more was ever heard of the barber who did it. This happened to about seven unlucky fellows, and then no barber would come close the castle for love or money. So the king proclaimed that all the barbers in the country were to draw lots, and if the one who got the short straw would dare to refuse, he would be put to death. The short straw was drawn by a poor widow's son named Thigueen. Fearing that she would never again see her son, the mother ran to the castle and beseeched the king to spare him the fate of the previous barbers. 'You'll get your boy back safe and sound,' promised the king. The next day the frightened barber reported for duty. 'My good fellow,' said the king, 'you'll be at liberty to go wherever you please after cutting my hair, but you must swear Dar lamh an Righ (by the king's hand) that you'll never tell anything that has ears and tongue what you see here today.' The king sat down on his throne and took off his hood, revealing two brown horse's ears, quite as long as those of an ass. 'Pick up your scissors and do your job!' he ordered. The poor lad did as best he could, taking special care not to nick the king's ears. When the job was finished, the king paid him, saying, 'Now, my lad, if I ever hear word of this, I'll make you wish that you had never been born.' The boy returned to his mother, only to fall into bed, deathly ill. She asked him what ailed him, but he gave no answer. Two days later the doctor came. 'I have a secret,' said poor Thigueen. If I cannot tell it, I'll die, and if I do tell it, I'll not be allowed to live.' When the doctor heard that the secret was not to be told to anyone with a tongue or ears, he said, 'Go into the woods, make a split in the bark of one of the trees, tell your secret into the cut.' The doctor was hardly out of the house when Thigueen got up and went into the woods, not stopping until he reached the middle, a place where two paths crossed one another. At this spot he found a healthy tree, cut a gash in its bark, and then whispered into it, 'Da Chluais Chapail ar Labhradh Loingseach,' which means, 'The two ears of a horse has Lora Lonshach.' The poor fellow had hardly whispered these words when he felt as if a mountain had been lifted off his back. Before a year passed, when again it would be time for the king's haircut, a great harp-playing match was announced, a contest between Craftine, the king's harper, and anyone who dared play against him. The other four kings of Ireland were invited, as well as all the lords and ladies who chose to travel so far. One week before the appointed day, Craftine found a crack in his harp, so he went into the forest to look for wood for a new one. Where should bad luck send him but to the very tree that Thigueen had told his secret to! Craftine cut it down and fashioned it into the finest harp you have ever seen, and when he tried it, he himself was enchanted with its beautiful music. The great day came at last, and the big hall in the palace was crammed. The king was on his high throne, with the four other kings before him. On either side were all the great lords and ladies, around the open place in the center where the harpers were sitting. Craftine began. He first played so mournfully that all who heard him were grief-stricken. Then he played a merry jig, and because there was no room to dance, everyone shouted out for joy. Next came a war-like march, and everyone who had room drew his sword and waved it over his head, each one crying out the war-cry of his own chief or king. Finally he played a beautiful heavenly tune, and they all closed their eyes, hoping that the beautiful music would never come to an end. When Craftine finally ceased playing, gold and silver were thrown in showers to him. Then the harpers of Leinster, Munster, Connaught, and Ulster tried their hands, and, sure enough, they played very well, but not nearly as well as Craftine. When they were finished, the king said to Craftine, 'Give us one more tune to finish decently, and put all that we invited in good humor for their dinner.' 'I am afraid of my harp,' answered Craftine. 'It wasn't my fingers that struck out the music, but the music that stirred my fingers. There is magic in that harp, and I fear it will play us some trick.' 'Trick be hanged!' said the king. 'Play away!' The harper had to obey his king, and he took up his harp, but he had hardly touched the strings, when a loud voice came from them, shouting, 'Da Chluais Chapail ar Labhradh Loingseach!' The startled king put his hands to his head, not knowing what he was doing, and in his fumbling he loosened the bands of his hood, revealing the two long hairy ears. What a roar came from the crowd! King Lora was not able to stand it, and in a trance he fell down from his throne. In a few minutes he had the hall to himself, except for his harper and some of his old servants. They say that when he came to himself, he was very sorry for all the poor barbers that he had put out of the way, and that he pensioned their wives and mothers. From then on Thigueen was no more concerned about giving the king a haircut than he would have been about giving one to you or to me. Irish Celts, 2nd edition (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1891, pp. 219-225.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
782,The Presidente Who Had Horns,Philippines (Ilocano),"Note by Cole: Here we have an excellent illustration of how a story brought in by the Spaniards has been worked over into Philippine setting. This is doubtless the classical story of Midas, but since the ass is practically unknown in the Philippines, horns (probably carabao horns) have been substituted for the ass's ears, which grew on Midas' head. Likewise the bamboo, which grows in abundance, takes the place of the reeds in the original tale.","Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg and Company, 1916), pp. 181-182.","Once there was a presidente [headman of a town] who was very unjust to his people, and one day he became so angry that he wished he had horns so that he might frighten them. No sooner had he made this rash wish, than horns began to grow on his head. He sent for a barber who came to his house to cut his hair, and as he worked the presidente asked, 'What do you see on my head?' 'I see nothing,' answered the barber; for although he could see the horns plainly, he was afraid to say so. Soon, however, the presidente put up his hands and felt the horns, and then when he inquired again the barber told him that he had two horns. 'If you tell anyone what you have seen, you shall be hanged,' said the presidente as the barber started away, and he was greatly frightened. When he reached home, the barber did not intend to tell anyone, for he was afraid; but as he thought of his secret more and more, the desire to tell someone became so strong that he knew he could not keep it. Finally he went to the field and dug a hole under some bamboo, and when the hole was large enough he crawled in and whispered that the presidente had horns. He then climbed out, filled up the hole, and went home. By and by some people came along the road on their way to market, and as they passed the bamboo they stopped in amazement, for surely a voice came from the trees, and it said that the presidente had horns. These people hastened to market and told what they had heard, and the people there went to the bamboo to listen to the strange voice. They informed others, and soon the news had spread all over the town. The councilmen were told, and they, too, went to the bamboo. When they had heard the voice, they ran to the house of the presidente. But his wife said that he was ill and they could not see him. By this time the horns had grown until they were one foot in length, and the presidente was so ashamed that he bade his wife tell the people that he could not talk. She told this to the councilmen when they came on the following day, but they replied that they must see him, for they had heard that he had horns, and if this were true he had no right to govern the people. She refused to let them in, so they broke down the door. They saw the horns of the head of the presidente and killed him. For, they said, he was no better than an animal. McClurg and Company, 1916), pp. 181-182. Note by Cole: Here we have an excellent illustration of how a story brought in by the Spaniards has been worked over into Philippine setting. This is doubtless the classical story of Midas, but since the ass is practically unknown in the Philippines, horns (probably carabao horns) have been substituted for the ass's ears, which grew on Midas' head. Likewise the bamboo, which grows in abundance, takes the place of the reeds in the original tale.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,Juan Wearing a Monkey's Skin,Philippines,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a couple which was at first childless. The father was very anxious to have a son to inherit his property, so he went to the church daily, and prayed God to give him a child, but in vain. One day, in his great disappointment, the man exclaimed without thinking, 'O great God! Let me have a son, even if it is in the form of a monkey!' And only a few days later his wife gave birth to a monkey. The father was so much mortified that he wanted to kill his son; but finally his better reason prevailed, and he spared the child. He said to himself, 'It is my fault, I know; but I uttered that invocation without thinking.' So instead of putting the monkey to death, the couple just hid it from visitors; and whenever anyone asked for the child, they merely answered, 'Oh, he died long ago.' The time came when the monkey grew to be old enough to marry. He went to his father, and said, 'Give me your blessing, father! for I am going away to look for a wife.' The father was only too glad to be freed from this obnoxious son, so he immediately gave him his blessing. Before letting him go, however, the father said to the monkey, 'You must never come back again to our house.' 'Very well, I will not,' said the monkey. The monkey then left his father's house, and went to find his fortune. One night he dreamed that there was a castle in the midst of the sea, and that in this castle dwelt a princess of unspeakable beauty. The princess had been put there so that no one might discover her existence. The monkey, who had been baptized two days after his birth and was named Juan, immediately repaired to the palace of the king. There he posted a letter which read as follows: 'I, Juan, know that your majesty has a daughter.' Naturally the king was very angry to have his secret discovered. He immediately sent soldiers to look for Juan. Juan was soon found, and brought to the palace. The king said to him, 'How do you know that I have a daughter? If you can bring her here, I will give her to you for a wife. If not, however, your head shall be cut off from your body.' 'O your majesty!' said Juan, 'I am sure that I can find her and bring her here. I am willing to lose my head if within three days I fail to fulfil my promise.' After he had said this, Juan withdrew, and sadly went out to look for the hidden princess. As he was walking along the road, he heard the cry of a bird. He looked up, and saw a bird caught between two boughs so that it could not escape. The bird said to him, 'O monkey! if you will but release me, I will give you all I have.' 'Oh, no!' said the monkey. 'I am very hungry, and would much rather eat you.' 'If you will but spare my life,' said the bird, 'I will give you anything you want.' 'On one condition only will I set you free,' said the monkey. 'You must procure for me the ring of the princess who lives in the midst of the sea.' 'Oh, that's an easy thing to do,' said the bird. So the monkey climbed the tree and set the bird free. The bird immediately flew to the island in the sea, where fortunately it found the princess refreshing herself in her garden. The princess was so charmed with the song of the bird that she looked up and said, 'O little bird! if you will only promise to live with me, I will give you anything you want.' 'All right, said the bird. 'Give me your ring, and I will forever live with you.' The princess held up the ring; and the bird suddenly snatched it and flew away with it. It gave the ring to the monkey, who was, of course, delighted to get it. Now the monkey jogged along the road until finally he saw three witches. He approached them and said to them, 'You are the very beings for whom I have spent the whole day looking. God has sent me here from heaven to punish you for your evil doings toward innocent persons. So I must eat you up.' Now, witches are said to be afraid of ill-looking persons, although they themselves are the ugliest beings in all the world. So these three were terribly frightened by the monkey's threat, and said, 'O sir! spare our lives, and we will do anything for you!' 'Very well, I will spare you if you can execute my order. From this shore you must build a bridge which leads to the middle of the sea, where the castle of the princess is situated.' 'That shall be speedily done,' replied the witches; and they at once gathered leaves, which they put on their backs. Then they plunged into the water. Immediately after them a bridge was built. Thus the monkey was now able to go to the castle. Here he found the princess. She was very much surprised to see this evil-looking animal before her; but she was much more frightened when the monkey showed her the ring which the bird had given him, and claimed her for his wife. 'It is the will of God that you should go with me,' said the monkey, after the princess had shown great repugnance towards him. 'You either have to go with me or perish.' Thinking it was useless to attempt to resist such a mighty foe, the princess finally yielded. The monkey led her to the king's palace and presented her before her parents; but no sooner had the king and queen seen their daughter in the power of the beast, than they swooned. When they had recovered, they said simultaneously, 'Go away at once, and never come back her again, you girl of infamous taste! Who are you? You are not the princess we left in the castle. You are of villain's blood, and the very air which you exhale does suffocate us. So with no more ado depart at once!' The princess implored her father to have pity, saying that it was the will of God that she should be the monkey's wife. 'Perhaps I have been enchanted by him, for I am powerless to oppose him.' But all her remonstrance was in vain. the king shut his ears against any deceitful or flattering words that might fall from the lips of his faithless and disobedient daughter. Seeing that the king was obstinate, the couple turned their backs on the palace and decided to find a more hospitable home. So the monkey now took his wife to a neighboring mountain, and here they settled. One day the monkey noticed that the princess was very sad and pale. He said to her, 'Why are you so sad and unhappy, my darling? What is the matter?' 'Nothing. I am just sorry to have only a monkey for my husband. I become sad when I think of my past happiness.' 'I am not a monkey, my dear. I am a real man, born of human parents. Didn't you know that I was baptized by the priest, and that my name is Juan?' As the princess would not believe him, the monkey went to a neighboring hut and there cast off his disguise (balit cayu). He at once returned to the princess. She was amazed to see a sparkling youth of not more than twenty years of age -- nay, a prince -- kneeling before her. 'I can no longer keep you in ignorance,' he said. 'I am your husband, Juan.' 'Oh, no! I cannot believe you. Don't try to deceive me! My husband is a monkey. But, with all his defects, I still cling to him and love him. Please go away at once, lest my husband find you here! He will be jealous, and my kill us both.' 'Oh, no! my darling, I am your husband, Juan. I only disguised myself as a monkey.' But still the princess would not believe him. At last she said to him, 'If you are my real husband, you must give me a proof of the fact.' So Juan (we shall hereafter call him by this name) took her to the place where he had cast off his monkey-skin. The princess was now convinced, and said to herself, 'After all, I was not wrong in the belief I have entertained from the beginning, that it was the will of God that I should marry this monkey, this man.' Juan and the princess now agreed to go back to the palace and tell the story. So they went. As soon as the king and queen saw the couple, they were very much surprised. But to remove their doubt, Juan immediately related to the king all that had happened. Thus the king and queen were finally reconciled to the at first hated couple. Juan and his wife succeeded to the throne on the death of the king, and lived peacefully and happily during their reign. The story is now ended. Thus we see that God compensated the father and mother of Juan for their religious zeal by giving them a son, but punished them for not being content with what he gave them by taking the son away from them again, for Juan never recognized his parents.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,"Mr. Monkey, the Bridegroom",French Louisiana,NA,NA,"There was a monkey which fell in love with a beautiful young girl. He dressed as a man and went to call on her. He was so well received that one day he took his best friend with him to see his lady-love. The young girl's father asked Mr. Monkey's friend some questions about his daughter's lover. The friend said that Mr. Monkey was good and rich, but there was a secret about him. The father wanted to know the secret, but the friend said he would tell him another day. Mr. Monkey was finally engaged to the young lady, and the night of the wedding he invited his friend to the supper. The latter was jealous of Mr. Monkey, and at the end of the supper he began to sing. This was a song that made all monkeys dance, whether they wished to or not, so Mr. Monkey looked at his friend and beckoned him to stop singing. He continued, however, to sing, and all at once Mr. Monkey got up and began to dance. He jumped about so wildly that his tail came out of his clothes, and everyone saw that he was a monkey. The father understood the secret, and beat him dreadfully. His friend, however, ran off, dancing and singing. Revised April 30, 1998.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,The Enchanted Prince,Philippines,NA,NA,"Many years ago there lived a very rich king in a beautiful city near a wild forest, the home of many wicked witches. The king had a gallant son named Ucay, who fell in love with a beautiful young witch, the daughter of the most bitter enemy of his father. When Ucay became old enough to marry, his father requested him to select the most beautiful lady in the city for his wife; but the prince would neither select one, nor would he tell his father about his love for the witch. So the rich king ordered his soldiers to bring to the palace all the beautiful women that could be found in the kingdom. His order was soon obeyed, but none of the girls suited the prince. So the king took the matter of selection into his own hands; and, after choosing a very handsome girl, he forced his son to marry her. Out of fear, Ucay consented to do as his father bade him. But the beautiful young witch to whom he had already pledged his love became angry with him for his timidity, and so she resolved to change the city into a forest of beautiful trees. Her fickle lover she transformed into a monkey, who should live in the tallest tree, and who should not be able to recover his human shape till five centuries had past, when a charming girl would live with him and love him more than anything else. Moreover, she changed the king's subjects into other animals as she pleased. No sooner had the marriage of the prince been proclaimed, then, than the desire of the witch was accomplished, to the great surprise of the neighboring cities. Four centuries had already passed. The wonderful disappearance of the city was already forgotten, and people from other places began to build houses in the enchanted city. The monkey-prince was always watching for an opportunity to catch a beautiful girl who should break the spell that kept him in his miserable condition. Soon a church was built near the foot of the tree in which he lived. He had already succeeded in capturing two ladies, but they had died of fear. After incalculable suffering and extraordinary patience, the time for his recovery came at last. One Sunday morning before the mass was over, a very beautiful girl, the daughter of a poor man, came out of the church and sat at the foot of the tree. She had been disappointed in her love with a rich man's son, who had forsaken her in order to marry the daughter of a rich man. So she wished to die. When the monkey-prince saw her sitting there alone, he noiselessly went down, carefully took her by the right hand, and carried her to the top of the tree. She would have died of fright, as was the fate of the two former women, had she not seen in the monkey's eyes a noble look that filled her with wonder and sympathy. As days went by, she lived on delicious fruits which were entirely strange to her; and her love for the poor creature grew greater and greater, until at last she loved him more than anything else. On the evening of the tenth day she was surprised to find herself beside a gallant prince in a richly decorated room. At first she thought that she was dreaming; but when the prince woke up, kissed her, and then told her the history of his life, she knew that it was real. She was so astonished, that she exclaimed, 'Ah, me! God is wise!' The next morning she was crowned queen of her husband's happy subjects, whom she had restored from the enchantment of the wicked witch. Everyone in the kingdom loved his new queen as long as he lived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,The Monkey and the Girl,India,NA,NA,"Once upon a time the boys and girls of a village used to watch the crops of but [a kind of grain] growing by a river, and there was a Hanuman monkey who wished to eat the but, but they drove him away. So he made a plan. He used to make a garland of flowers and go with it to the field, and, when he was driven away, he would leave the flowers behind. And the children were pleased with the flowers and ended by making friends with the monkey and did not drive him away. There was one of the young girls who was fascinated by the monkey and promised to marry him. Some of the other children told this in the village, and the girl's father and mother came to hear of it and were angry, and the father took some of the villagers and went and shot the monkey. Then they decided not to throw away the body, but to burn it like the corpse of a man. So they made a pyre and put the body on it and set fire to it. Just then the girl came, and they told her to go away, but she said that she wished to see whether they really burned him like a man. So she stood by, and when the pyre was in full blaze, she called out, 'Oh look what is happening to the stars in the sky!' At this everyone looked up at the sky. Then she took some sand which she had in the fold of her cloth and threw it into the air, and it fell into their eyes and blinded them. While they were rubbing the sand out of their eyes the girl leapt onto the pyre, and was burned along with the monkey and died a sati [also spelled suttee -- a Hindu widow's suicidal cremation on her husband's funeral pyre as a demonstration of devotion]. Her father and brothers were very angry at this and said that the girl must have had a monkey's soul, and so she was fascinated by him. And so saying they bathed and went home.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,The Monkey Boy,India,NA,NA,"There was once a man who had six sons and two daughters, and he died leaving his wife pregnant of a ninth child. And when the child was born it proved to be a monkey. The villagers and relations advised the mother to make away with it, but she refused, saying, 'Chando [the supreme god of the Santals] knows why he has given me such a child, but as he has done so, I will rear it.' All her relations said that if she chose to rear a monkey they would turn her out of the family. However, she persisted that she would do so at all costs. So they sent her to live with her child in a hut outside the village, and the monkey boy grew up and learned to talk like a human being. One day his elder brothers began to clear the jungle for cultivation, and the monkey boy took a hatchet and went with them. He asked where he could clear land for himself, and in fun they showed him the place where the jungle was thickest. So he went there and drove his hatchet into the trunk of a tree and then returned and watched his brothers working hard clearing the scrub, and when they had finished their work, he went and fetched his hatchet and returned home with them. Every day he did the same. And one day his brothers asked why he spent all his time with them, but he said that he only came to them when he was tired of cutting down trees. They laughed at this and said that they would like to see his clearing, so he took them to the place, and to their astonishment they saw a large clearing, bigger than they had been able to make for themselves. Then the brothers burnt the jungle they had cut down and began to plow the land. But the monkey boy's mother had no plow or cattle nor any seed rice. The only thing in the house was a pumpkin, so he took the seed out of the pumpkin and sowed it in his clearing. His brothers asked what he had sown, and he told them, 'Rice.' The brothers plowed and sowed and used to go daily to watch the growing crop, and one day they went to have a look at the monkey boy's crop, and they saw that it was pumpkins and not rice, and they laughed at him. When their crop was ripe the brothers prepared to offer the first fruits, and the monkey boy watched them that he might observe the same ceremonies as they. One day they brought home the first fruits and offered them to the bongas, and they invited the monkey boy and his mother to come to the feast which followed the offering. They both went and enjoyed themselves; and two or three days later the monkey boy said that he would also have a feast of first fruits, so he told his mother to clear the courtyard, and invited his brothers, and he purified himself and went to his clearing and brought home the biggest pumpkin that had grown there. This he offered to the spirits. He sliced off the top of it as if it were the head of a fowl, and as he did so he saw that the inside was full of rice. He called his mother, and they filled a winnowing fan with the rice, and there was enough besides to nearly fill a basket. They were delighted at this windfall but kept the matter secret lest they should be robbed. The monkey boy told his mother to be sure and cook enough rice so that his brothers and their wives might have as much as ever they could eat, and not merely a small helping such as they had given him, and if necessary he would go and fetch another pumpkin. So his mother boiled the rice. When the time fixed for the feast came, nothing was to be seen of the brothers because they did not expect that there would really be anything for them to eat. So the monkey boy went and fetched them, and when they came to the feast they were astonished to have as much rice as they could eat. When the crop was quite ripe the monkey boy gathered all the pumpkins and got sufficient rice from them to last for the whole year. After this the brothers went out to buy horses, and the monkey boy went with them, and as he had no money he took nothing but a coil of rope. His brothers were ashamed to have him with them and drove him away, so he went on ahead and got first to the place where the horse dealer lived. The brothers arrived late in the evening and decided to make their purchases the following morning and ride their horses home, so they camped for the night. The monkey boy spent the night hiding on the rafters of the stable. And in the night the horses began to talk to each other and discussed which could gallop farthest, and one mare said, 'I can gallop twelve kos on the ground and then twelve kos in the air.' [One kos equals about two miles.] When the monkey boy heard this he got down and lamed the mare by running a splinter into her hoof. The next morning the brothers bought the horses which pleased them and rode off. Then the monkey boy went to the horse dealer and asked why the mare was lame and advised him to apply remedies. But the dealer said that that was useless; when horses got ill they always died. Then the monkey boy asked if he would sell the mare and offered to give the coil of rope in exchange. The dealer, thinking that the animal was useless, agreed. So the monkey boy led it away, but when he was out of sight he took out the splinter, and the lameness at once ceased. Then he mounted the mare and rode after his brothers, and when he had nearly overtaken them he rose into the air and flew past his brothers and arrived first at home. There he tied up the mare outside his house and went and bathed and had his dinner and waited for his brothers. They did not arrive for a full hour afterwards, and when they saw the monkey boy and his mount they wanted to know how he had got home first. He boasted of how swift his mare was, and so they arranged to have a race and match their horses against his. The race took place two or three days later, and the monkey boy's mare easily beat all the other horses. She galloped twelve kos on the ground and twelve kos in the air. Then they wanted to change their horses for his, but he said they had had first choice and he was not going to change. In two or three years the monkey boy became rich, and then he announced that he wanted to marry. This puzzled his mother for she thought that no human girl would marry him while a monkey would not be able to talk. So she told him that he must find a bride for himself. One day he set off to look for a wife and came to a tank in which some girls were bathing, and he took up the cloth belonging to one of them and ran up a tree with it, and when the girl missed it and saw it hanging down from the tree, she borrowed a cloth from her friends and went and asked the monkey boy for her own. He told her that she could only have it back if she consented to marry him. She was surprised to find that he could talk, and as he conversed she was bewitched by him and let him pull her up into the tree by her hair, and she called out to her friends to go home and leave her where she was. Then he took her on his back and ran off home with her. The girl's father and relations turned out with bows and arrows to look for the monkey who had carried her off, but he had gone so far away that they never found him. When the monkey boy appeared with his bride all the villagers were astonished that he had found anyone to marry him, but everything was made ready for the marriage as quickly as possible, and all the relations were invited, and the wedding took place, and the monkey boy and his wife lived happily ever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
441,The Monkey Husband,India,NA,NA,"One very hot day some children were bathing in a pool, when a Hanuman monkey snatched up the cloth which one of the girls had left on the bank, and ran up a tree with it. When the children came out of the water and went to take up their clothes, they found one missing, and looking about, they saw the monkey in the tree with it. They begged the Hanuman to give it back, but the monkey only said, 'I will not give it unless its owner consents to marry me.' Then they began to throw sticks and stones at him, but he climbed to the top of the tree out of the way. Then they ran and told the parents of the girl whose cloth had been stolen. And they called their neighbors and went with bows and arrows and threatened to shoot the monkey if he did not give up the cloth, but he still said that he would not, unless the girl would marry him. Then they shot all their arrows at him, but not one of them hit him. Then the neighbors said, 'This child is fated to belong to the monkey, and that is why we cannot hit him.' Then the girl's father and mother began to cry and sang: And he answered: And as he did not listen to the father and mother, her father's younger brother and his wife sang the same song, but in vain. And then the girl herself begged for it, and thereupon the monkey let down one end of the cloth to her; and when she caught hold of it, he pulled her up into the tree, and there made her put on her cloth, and ran off with her on his back. The girl was quite willing to go with him and called out as she was carried away, 'Never mind, father and mother. I am going away.' The Hanuman took her to a cave in the mountains, and they lived on fruit: mangoes or jack or whatever fruit was in season. The monkey climbed the trees and shook the fruit down. But if the girl saw by the marks of teeth that the monkey had bitten off any fruit, instead of only shaking it down, she would not eat it, and pretended that she had had enough, for she would not eat the leavings of the monkey. At last the girl got tired of having only fruit to eat, and demanded rice. So the monkey took her to a bazaar, and leaving her on the outskirts of the village under a tree, he went and stole some pots from a potter and rice and salt and turmeric and pulse and sweetmeats from other shops, and brought them to the girl. Then she collected sticks and lit a fire and cooked a meal. And the monkey liked the cooked food, and asked her to cook for him every day. So they stayed there several days. Then the girl asked for more clothes, and the monkey tried to steal them too, but the shopkeepers were on the watch and drove him away. The girl soon got tired of sleeping under a tree, so they went back to the cave, and the monkey gathered mangoes and jack-fruit and told her to go and sell them in the market, and then she would be able to buy cloth. But when she had sold the fruit, she stayed in the village and took service with a well-to-do shopkeeper, and never returned to the monkey. The monkey watched for her and searched for her in vain, and returned sorrowfully to his hill. But the girl stayed on in the village and eventually married one of the villagers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
91,Brother Rabbit and the Gizzard-Eater,Joel Chandler Harris,"Dialect normalized by D. L. Ashliman. The allusion to Brer Alligator's burned back refers to the tale 'Why the Alligator's Back Is Rough' in Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1889), no. 26, pp. 143-49.","Joel Chandler Harris, Told by Uncle Remus: New Stories of the Old Plantation (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1905), no. 14, pp. 243-65.","Brer Rabbit was a mighty man at a frolic. I don't expect he'd show up much in these days, but in the times when the creatures were bossing their own jobs, Brer Rabbit was up for pretty nigh everything that was going on, if there wasn't too much work in it. There couldn't be a dance or a quilting anywhere around but what he'd be there. He was the first to come and the last to go. Well, there was one time when he went too far and stayed too late, because a big rain came during the time when they were playing and dancing, and when Brer Rabbit put out for home, he found that a big freshet had come and gone. The drains had got to be creeks, the creeks had got to be rivers, and the rivers -- well, I'm not going to tell you what the rivers were, because you'd think that I'd told the truth good-bye. By making big jumps and going out of his way, Brer Rabbit managed to get as close to home as the creek, but when he got there, the creek was so wide that it made him feel like he'd been lost so long that his family had forgotten him. Many and many a time he'd crossed that creek on a log, but the log was gone, and the water was spread out all over creation. The water was wide, but that wasn't more than half -- it looked like it was the wettest water that Brer Rabbit had ever laid eyes on. There was a ferry there for times like this, but it looked like it was a bigger freshet than what they had counted on. Brer Rabbit, he sat on the bank and wiped the damp out of his face and eyes, and then he hollered for the man that ran the ferry. He hollered and hollered, and by and by he heard someone answer him, and he looked a little closer, and there was the man -- his name was Jerry -- way up in the top limbs of a tree. And he looked still closer, and he saw that Jerry had company, because there was old Brer Bear sitting at the foot of the tree waiting for Jerry to come down, so he could tell him howdy. Well, sir, Brer Rabbit took notice that there was something more than dampness between them, and he started to holler again, and he hollered so loud and he hollered so long that he woke up old Brer Alligator. Now it didn't make old Brer Alligator feel good to be woken up at that hour, because he'd just had a nice supper of pine-nuts and sweet potatoes and was lying out at full length on his mud bed. He allowed to himself, he did, 'Who in the nation is this trying to holler the bottom out of the creek?' He listened, and then he turned over and listened again. He shut one eye, and then he shut the other one, but there was no sleeping in that neighborhood. Jerry in the tree, he hollered back, 'Can't come -- got company!' Brer Alligator, he heard this, and he said to himself that if nobody else can come, he can, and he rose to the top with no more fuss than a featherbed makes when you leave it alone. He rose, he did, and his two eyes looked exactly like two bullets floating on the water. He rose and winked his eye and asked Brer Rabbit howdy, and more especially how was his daughter. Brer Rabbit, he said that there was no telling how his daughter was, because when he left home her head was swelling. He said that some of the neighbors' children had come and flung rocks at her and one of them had hit her on top of the head right where the cowlick is, and he had had to run after the doctor. Brer Alligator allowed, 'You don't tell me, Brer Rabbit, that it's come to this! Your children getting chunked by your neighbors' children. Well, well, well! I wish you'd tell me where it's all going to end. Why it'll get after a while that there's no peace anywhere except at my house in the bed of the creek.' Brer Rabbit said, 'Isn't it the truth? And not only do Brer Fox's children chunk my children on their cowlicks, but no sooner have I gone after the doctor than here comes the creek a-rising. I may be wrong, but I'm not scared to say that it beats anything I have ever laid eyes on. Over yonder in the far wood is where my daughter is lying with a headache, and here is her pa, and between us is the boiling creek. If I were to try to wade, ten to one the water would be over my head, and if that's not bad, all the pills that the doctor gave me would melt in my pocket. And they might poison me, because the doctor didn't say that they were to be taken outside.' Old Brer Alligator floated on the water like he didn't weigh more than one of these here postage stamps, and he tried to drop a tear. He groaned, he did, and floated backwards and forwards like a tired canoe. He said, 'Brer Rabbit, if there ever was a rover, you are one. Up you come and off you go, and there is no more keeping up with you than if you had wings. If you think you can stay in one place long enough, I'll try to put you across the creek.' Brer Rabbit kind of rubbed his chin while he wiggled his nose. He allowed, said he, 'Brer Gator, how deep is that water that you are floating in?' Brer Alligator said, 'Brer Rabbit, if my old woman and I were to join heads, and I were to stand on the tip end of my tail, there'd still be room enough for all of my children before we touched bottom.' Brer Rabbit, he fell back like he was going to faint. He allowed, 'Brer Gator, you don't tell me! You surely don't mean those last words! Why you make me feel like I'm further from home than those who are done lost for good! How in the name of goodness are you going to put me across this slippery water?' Brer Alligator, he blew a bubble or two out of his nose, and then he said, 'If you can stand still in one place long enough, I'm going to take you across on my back. You needn't say 'thank you,' but I want you to know that I'm not everybody's water-horse.' Brer Rabbit allowed, said he, 'I can well believe that, Brer Gator, but somehow I kind of got a notion that your tail is mighty limber. I hear old folks say that you can knock a chip from the back of your head with the tip end of your tail and never half try.' Brer Alligator smacked his mouth and said, 'Limber my tail may be, Brer Rabbit, and far reaching, but don't blame me. It was that way when it was given to me. It's all jointed up according to nature.' Brer Rabbit, he studied and he studied, and the more he studied, the worse he liked it. But he pleased to go home -- there were no two ways about that -- and he allowed, said he, 'I suspect what you say is somewhere in the neighborhood of the truth, Brer Gator, and more than that, I believe that I'll go along with you. If you'll ride up a little closer, I'll make up my mind, so I won't keep you waiting.' Brer Alligator, he floated by the side of the bank the same as a cork out of a pickle bottle. He didn't do like he was in a hurry, because he dropped a word or two about the weather, and he said that the water was mighty cold down there in the slushes. But Brer Rabbit took notice that when he smiled one of his smiles, he showed up a double row of tusks that looked like they'd do mighty good work in a sawmill. Brer Rabbit, he began to shake like he was having a chill. He allowed, 'I feel that damp, Brer Gator, that I might just as well be in water up to my chin!' Brer Alligator didn't say anything, but he couldn't hide his tusks. Brer Rabbit looked up, he looked down, and he looked all around. He scarcely knew what to do. He allowed, 'Brer Gator, your back is mighty rough. How am I going to ride on it?' Brer Alligator said, 'The roughness will help you to hold on, because you'll have to ride a-straddle. You can just get your feet on the bumps and kind of brace yourself when you think you see a log floating at us. You can just sit up there the same as if you were sitting at home in your rocking chair. Brer Rabbit shook his head, but he got on, he did, and he had no sooner gotten on than he wished mighty hard that he was off. Brer Alligator said, 'You can pant if you want to, but I'll do the paddling,' and he slipped through the water just like he was greased. Brer Rabbit sure was scared, but he kept his eyes open, and by and by he took notice that Brer Alligator wasn't making for the place where the landing was at, and he up and said so. He allowed, 'Brer Gator, if I'm not much mistaken, you're not heading for the landing.' Brer Alligator said, 'You sure have got mighty good eyes, Brer Rabbit. I've been waiting for you a long time, and I'm the worst kind of waiter. I must know you haven't forgot that day in the stubble when you said you were going to show me Old Man Trouble. Well, you didn't only show him to me, but you made me shake hands with him. You set the dry grass afire and burned me scandalously. That's the reason my back is so rough, and that's the reason my hide is so tough. Well, I've been a-waiting since that time, and now here you are. You burned me until I had to quench the burning in the big quagmire.' Brer Alligator laughed, but he had the laugh all on his side, because that was one of the times when Brer Rabbit didn't feel like giggling. He sat there a-shaking and a-shivering. By and by he allowed, said he, 'What are you going to do, Brer Gator?' Brer Alligator said, 'It looks to me like since you set the dry grass afire, I've been having symptoms. That's what the doctor said. He looked at my tongue, and he felt my pulse, and he shook his head. He said that beings he's my friend, he didn't mind telling me that my symptoms are getting worse than what they have been, and if I don't take something I'll be falling into one of these here inclines that make folks flabby and weak.' Brer Rabbit, he shook and he shivered. He allowed, 'What else did the doctor say, Brer Gator?' Brer Alligator kept on a-slipping along. He said, 'The doctor didn't only look at my tongue. He measured my breath, and he hit me on my bosom -- tip-tap-tap! -- and he said there was but one thing that will cure me. I asked him what it is, and he said it's rabbit gizzard.' Brer Alligator slipped and slid along and waited to see what Brer Rabbit was going to say to that. He didn't have to wait long, because Brer Rabbit did his thinking like one of these here machines that has lightning in it. He allowed, he said, 'It's a mighty good thing you struck up with me this day, Brer Gator, because I have exactly the kind of physic you are looking for. All the neighbors say I'm mighty queer, and I suspect I am, but queer or not queer, I've long been looking for the gizzard-eater.' Brer Alligator didn't say anything. He just slid through the water and listened to what Brer Rabbit was saying. Brer Rabbit allowed, he said, 'The last time I took sick the doctor came in a hurry, and he sat up with me all night -- not a wink of sleep did that man get. He said he could tell by the way I was going on, rolling and tossing, and moaning and groaning, that no physic was going to do me any good. I've never seen a doctor scratch his head like that doctor did. He acted like he was stumped, he sure did. He said he had never seen anybody with my kind of trouble, and he went off and called in one of his brer doctors, and the two knocked their heads together, and they said my trouble all comes from having a double gizzard. When my old woman heard that she just flung her apron over her head and fell back in a dead faint, and a little more and I'd have had to pay a doctor bill on her account. When she squalled, some of my children got scared and took to the wood, and they hadn't all got back when I left home last night.' Brer Alligator, he just went a-slipping along through the water. He listened, but he didn't say anything. Brer Rabbit allowed, said he, 'It's the fatal truth, all this that I'm a-telling you. The doctor, he flew around until he fetched my old woman to, and then he said there was no need to be skittish on account of my having a double gizzard, because all I had to do was to be kind of careful with my chewings and gnawings, and my comings and goings. He said that I'd have to suffer with it until I find the gizzard-eater. I asked him whereabouts he is, and he said that I'd know him when I see him, and if I fail to know him, he'll make himself known to me. This kind of irritates me, because when a man's a doctor, and he's got the idea of curing anybody, there is no need of dealing in riddles. But he said that there was no use in telling all you know, especially before dinner.' Brer Alligator went a-sliding along through the water. He listened and smacked his mouth, but he didn't say anything. Brer Rabbit, he talked on. He allowed, said he, 'And there was one thing he told me plainer than all the rest. He said that when anybody was afflicted with the double gizzard, they daresn't cross water with it, because if there's anything that a double gizzard won't stand, it's the smell of water.' Brer Alligator went slipping along through the water, but he felt like the time had come when he pleased to say something. He said, 'How come you are crossing water now, if the doctor told you that?' This made Brer Rabbit laugh. He allowed, 'Maybe I oughtn't tell you, but before I can cross water, that double gizzard has got to come out. The doctor told me that if she ever smells water, there'll be such a swelling up that my skin won't hold me. And no longer ago than last night, before I came to cross this creek -- it was a creek then, whatsoever you may call it now -- I took out my double gizzard and hid it in a hickory hollow. And if you are the gizzard-eater, now is your chance, because if you put it off, you may rue the day. If you are in the notion, I'll take you right there and show you the stump where I hid it at -- and if you want to be lonesome about it, I'll let you go by yourself and I'll stay right here.' Brer Alligator, he slipped and slid through the water. He said, 'Where'd you say you'd stay?' Brer Rabbit allowed, said he, 'I'll stay right here, Brer Gator, or anywhere else you may choose. I don't care much where I stay or what I do, so long as I get rid of that double gizzard that's been a-terrifying me. You better go by yourself, because bad as that double gizzard has done me, I got kind of a tendersome feeling for it, and I'm afraid if I were to go along with you and see you grab it, there'd be some boo-hooing done. If you go by yourself, just rap on the stump and say, 'If you are ready, I'm ready and a little more so,' and you won't have any trouble with her. She's hid right in those woods yonder, and the hollow hickory stump isn't so mighty far from where the bank of the creek ought to be.' Brer Gator didn't have much more sense than what it'd take to climb a fence after someone had pulled it down, and so he kind of slewed himself around and steered for the woods -- the same woods where there are so many trees, and where old Sis Owl starts all the whirlwinds by fanning her wings. Brer Alligator swam and steered until he came close to land, and when he did that, Brer Rabbit made a big jump and landed on solid ground. He might have got his feet wet, but if he did, that was all. He allowed, said he: You poor old Gator, if you'd have known A from Izzard, You'd know mighty well that I'd keep my Gizzard. And with that he was done gone -- done clean gone! The allusion to Brer Alligator's burned back refers to the tale 'Why the Alligator's Back Is Rough' in Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1889), no. 26, pp. 143-49.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
91,The Foolish Dragon,China,NA,"E. T. C. Werner, Myths and Legends of China (London: G. Harrap and Company, 1922), pp. 211-212.","The part of the great Buddha legend referring to the dragon is as follows: In years gone by, a dragon living in the great sea saw that his wife's health was not good. He, seeing her color fade away, said, 'My dear, what shall I get you to eat?' Mrs. Dragon was silent. 'Just tell me and I will get it,' pleaded the affectionate husband. 'You cannot do it; why trouble?' quoth she. 'Trust me, and you shall have your heart's desire,' said the dragon. 'Well,' I want a monkey's heart to eat.' 'Why, Mrs. Dragon, the monkeys live in the mountain forests! How can I get one of their hearts?' 'Well, I am going to die; I know I am.' Forthwith the dragon went on shore, and, spying a monkey on the top of a tree, said, 'Hail, shining one, are you not afraid you will fall?' 'No, I have no such fear.' 'Why eat of one tree? Cross the sea and you will find forests of fruit and flowers.' 'How can I cross?' 'Get on my back.' The dragon with his tiny load went seaward, and then suddenly dived down. 'Where are you going?' said the monkey, with the salt water in his eyes and mouth. 'Oh! my dear sir! my wife is very sad and ill, and has taken a fancy to your heart.' 'What shall I do?' thought the monkey. He then spoke, 'Illustrious friend, why did not you tell me? I left my heart on the top of the tree; take me back, and I will get it for Mrs. Dragon.' The dragon returned to the shore. As the monkey was tardy in coming down from the tree, the dragon said, 'Hurry up, little friend, I am waiting.' Then the monkey thought within himself, 'What a fool this dragon is!' Then Buddha said to his followers, 'At this time I was the monkey.' Harrap and Company, 1922), pp. 211-212.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
91,The Heart of a Monkey,"Africa, Swahili",Lang's source: Swahili Tales by Edward Steere. The story within a story about 'The Washerman's Donkey' belongs to Aarne-Thompson type 52. The version related here assumes that intelligence is seated in the heart. Other versions of this story feature the victim's brain.,"Andrew Lang, The Lilac Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1910), pp. 42-53.","A long time ago a little town made up of a collection of low huts stood in a tiny green valley at the foot of a cliff. Of course the people had taken great care to build their houses out of reach of the highest tide which might be driven on shore by a west wind, but on the very edge of the town there had sprung up a tree so large that half its boughs hung over the huts and the other half over the deep sea right under the cliff, where sharks loved to come and splash in the clear water. The branches of the tree itself were laden with fruit, and every day at sunrise a big gray monkey might have been seen sitting in the topmost branches having his breakfast, and chattering to himself with delight. After he had eaten all the fruit on the town side of the tree the monkey swung himself along the branches to the part which hung over the water. While he was looking out for a nice shady place where he might perch comfortably, he noticed a shark watching him from below with greedy eyes. 'Can I do anything for you, my friend?' asked the monkey politely. 'Oh! if you only would throw me down some of those delicious things, I should be so grateful,' answered the shark. 'After you have lived on fish for fifty years you begin to feel you would like a change. And I am so very, very tired of the taste of salt.' 'Well, I don't like salt myself,' said the monkey, 'so if you will open your mouth I will throw this beautiful juicy kuyu into it,' and, as he spoke, he pulled one off the branch just over his head. But it was not so easy to hit the shark's mouth as he supposed, even when the creature had turned on his back, and the first kuyu only struck one of his teeth and rolled into the water. However, the second time the monkey had better luck, and the fruit fell right in. 'Ah, how good!' cried the shark. 'Send me another, please,' and the monkey grew tired of picking the kuyu long before the shark was tired of eating them. 'It is getting late, and I must be going home to my children,' he said, at length, 'but if you are here at the same time tomorrow I will give you another treat.' 'Thank you, thank you,' said the shark, showing all his great ugly teeth as he grinned with delight. 'You can't guess how happy you have made me,' and he swam away into the shadow, hoping to sleep away the time till the monkey came again. For weeks the monkey and the shark breakfasted together, and it was a wonder that the tree had any fruit left for them. They became fast friends, and told each other about their homes and their children, and how to teach them all they ought to know. By and by the monkey became rather discontented with his green house in a grove of palms beyond the town, and longed to see the strange things under the sea which he had heard of from the shark. The shark perceived this very clearly, and described greater marvels. And the monkey, as he listened, grew more and more gloomy. Matters were in this state when one day the shark said, 'I really hardly know how to thank you for your kindness to me during these weeks. Here I have nothing of my own to offer you, but if you would only consent to come home with me, how gladly would I give you anything that might happen to take your fancy.' 'I should like nothing better,' cried the monkey, his teeth chattering, as they always did when he was pleased. 'But how could I get there? Not by water, Ugh! It makes me ill to think of it!' 'Oh! don't let that trouble you,' replied the shark. 'You have only to sit on my back and I will undertake that not a drop of water shall touch you.' So it was arranged, and directly after breakfast next morning the shark swam close up under the tree, and the monkey dropped neatly on his back, without even a splash. After a few minutes -- for at first he felt a little frightened at his strange position -- the monkey began to enjoy himself vastly, and asked the shark a thousand questions about the fish and the seaweeds and the oddly shaped things that floated past them, and as the shark always gave him some sort of answer, the monkey never guessed that many of the objects they saw were as new to his guide as to himself. The sun had risen and set six times when the shark suddenly said, 'My friend, we have now performed half our journey, and it is time that I should tell you something.' 'What is it?' asked the monkey. 'Nothing unpleasant, I hope, for you sound rather grave.' 'Oh, no! Nothing at all. It is only that shortly before we left I heard that the sultan of my country is very ill, and that the only thing to cure him is a monkey's heart.' 'Poor man, I am very sorry for him,' replied the monkey; 'but you were unwise not to tell me till we had started.' 'What do you mean?' asked the shark. But the monkey, who now understood the whole plot, did not answer at once, for he was considering what he should say. 'Why are you so silent?' inquired the shark again. 'I was thinking what a pity it was you did not tell me while I was still on land, and then I would have brought my heart with me.' 'Your heart! Why isn't your heart here?' said the shark, with a puzzled expression. 'Oh, no! Of course not. Is it possible you don't know that when we leave home we always hang up our hearts on trees, to prevent their being troublesome? However, perhaps you won't believe that, and will just think I have invented it because I am afraid, so let us go on to your country as fast as we can, and when we arrive you can look for my heart, and if you find it you can kill me.' The monkey spoke in such a calm indifferent way that the shark was quite deceived, and began to wish he had not been in such a hurry. 'But there is no use going on if your heart is not with you,' he said at last. 'We had better turn back to the town, and then you can fetch it.' Of course, this was just what the monkey wanted, but he was careful not to seem too pleased. 'Well, I don't know,' he remarked carelessly. 'It is such a long way; but you may be right.' 'I am sure I am,' answered the shark, 'and I will swim as quickly as I can,' and so he did, and in three days they caught sight of the kuyu tree hanging over the water. With a sigh of relief the monkey caught hold of the nearest branch and swung himself up. 'Wait for me here,' he called out to the shark. 'I am so hungry I must have a little breakfast, and then I will go and look for my heart,' and he went further and further into the branches so that the shark could not see him. Then he curled himself up and went to sleep. 'Are you there?' cried the shark, who was soon tired of swimming about under the cliff, and was in haste to be gone. The monkey awoke with a start, but did not answer. 'Are you there?' called the shark again, louder than before, and in a very cross voice. 'Oh, yes. I am here,' replied the monkey; 'but I wish you had not wakened me up. I was having such a nice nap.' 'Have you got it?' asked the shark. 'It is time we were going.' 'Going where?' inquired the monkey. 'Why, to my country, of course, with your heart. You can't have forgotten!' 'My dear friend,' answered the monkey, with a chuckle, 'I think you must be going a little mad. Do you take me for a washerman's donkey?' 'Don't talk nonsense,' exclaimed the shark, who did not like being laughed at. 'What do you mean about a washerman's donkey? And I wish you would be quick, or we may be too late to save the sultan.' 'Did you really never hear of the washerman's donkey?' asked the monkey, who was enjoying himself immensely. 'Why, he is the beast who has no heart. And as I am not feeling very well, and am afraid to start while the sun is so high lest I should get a sunstroke, if you like, I will come a little nearer and tell you his story.' 'Very well,' said the shark sulkily, 'if you won't come, I suppose I may as well listen to that as do nothing.' So the monkey began. A washerman once lived in the great forest on the other side of the town, and he had a donkey to keep him company and to carry him wherever he wanted to go. For a time they got on very well, but by and by the donkey grew lazy and ungrateful for her master's kindness, and ran away several miles into the heart of the forest, where she did nothing but eat and eat and eat, till she grew so fat she could hardly move. One day as she was tasting quite a new kind of grass and wondering if it was as good as what she had had for dinner the day before, a hare happened to pass by. 'Well, that is a fat creature,' thought she, and turned out of her path to tell the news to a lion who was a friend of hers. Now the lion had been very ill and was not strong enough to go hunting for himself, and when the hare came and told him that a very fat donkey was to be found only a few hundred yards off, tears of disappointment and weakness filled his eyes. 'What is the good of telling me that?' he asked in a weepy voice. 'You know I cannot even walk as far as that palm.' 'Never mind,' answered the hare briskly. 'If you can't go to your dinner, your dinner shall come to you,' and nodding a farewell to the lion she went back to the donkey. 'Good morning,' said she, bowing politely to the donkey, who lifted her head in surprise. 'Excuse my interrupting you, but I have come on very important business.' 'Indeed,' answered the donkey, 'it is most kind of you to take the trouble. May I inquire what the business is?' 'Certainly,' replied the hare. 'It is my friend the lion who has heard so much of your charms and good qualities that he has sent me to beg that you will give him your paw in marriage. He regrets deeply that he is unable to make the request in person, but he has been ill and is too weak to move.' 'Poor fellow! How sad!' said the donkey. 'But you must tell him that I feel honored by his proposal and will gladly consent to be Queen of the Beasts.' 'Will you not come and tell him so yourself?' asked the hare. Side by side they went down the road which led to the lion's house. It took a long while, for the donkey was so fat with eating she could only walk very slowly, and the hare, who could have run the distance in about five minutes, was obliged to creep along till she almost dropped with fatigue at not being able to go at her own pace. When at last they arrived the lion was sitting up at the entrance, looking very pale and thin. The donkey suddenly grew shy and hung her head, but the lion put on his best manners and invited both his visitors to come in and make themselves comfortable. Very soon the hare go up and said, 'Well, as I have another engagement I will leave you to make acquaintance with your future husband,' and winking at the lion she bounded away. The donkey expected that as soon as they were left alone the lion would begin to speak of their marriage, and where they should live, but as he said nothing she looked up. To her surprise and terror she saw him crouching in the corner, his eyes glaring with a red light, and with a loud roar he sprang towards her. But in that moment the donkey had had time to prepare herself, and jumping on one side dealt the lion such a hard kick that he shrieked with the pain. Again and again he struck at her with his claws, but the donkey could bite too, as well as the lion, who was very weak after his illness, and at last a well planted kick knocked him right over, and he rolled on the floor, groaning with pain. The donkey did not wait for him to get up, but ran away as fast as she could and was lost in the forest. Now the hare, who knew quite well what would happen, had not gone to do her business, but hid herself in some bushes behind the cave, where she could hear quite clearly the sounds of the battle. When all was quiet again she crept gently out, and stole round the corner. 'Well, lion, have you killed her?' asked she, running swiftly up the path. 'Killed her, indeed!' answered the lion sulkily, 'it is she who has nearly killed me. I never knew a donkey could kick like that, though I took care she should carry away the marks of my claws.' 'Dear me! Fancy such a great fat creature being able to fight!' cried the hare. 'But don't vex yourself. Just lie still, and your wounds will soon heal,' and she bade her friend good-bye, and returned to her family. Two or three weeks passed, and only bare places on the donkey's back showed where the lion's claws had been, while, on his side, the lion had recovered from his illness and was now as strong as ever. He was beginning to think that it was almost time for him to begin hunting again, when one morning a rustle was heard in the creepers outside, and the hare's head peeped through. 'Ah! there is no need to ask how you are,' she said. 'Still you mustn't overtire yourself, you know. Shall I go and bring you your dinner?' 'If you will bring me that donkey I will tear it in two,' cried the lion savagely, and the hare laughed and nodded and went on her errand. This time the donkey was much further than before, and it took longer to find her. At last the hare caught sight of four hoofs in the air, and ran towards them. The donkey was lying on a soft cool bed of moss near a stream, rolling herself backwards and forwards from pleasure. 'Good morning,' said the hare politely, and the donkey got slowly onto her legs, and looked to see who her visitor could be. 'Oh, it is you, is it?' she exclaimed. 'Come and have a chat. What news have you got?' 'I mustn't stay,' answered the hare; 'but I promised the lion to beg you to pay him a visit, as he is not well enough to call on you.' 'Well, I don't know,' replied the donkey gloomily. 'The last time we went he scratched me very badly, and really I was quite afraid.' 'He was only trying to kiss you,' said the hare, 'and you bit him, and of course that made him cross.' 'If I were sure of that,' hesitated the donkey. 'Oh, you may be quite sure,' laughed the hare. 'I have a large acquaintance among lions. But let us be quick,' and rather unwillingly the donkey set out. The lion saw them coming and hid himself behind a large tree. As the donkey went past, followed by the hare, he sprang out, and with one blow of his paw stretched the poor foolish creature dead before him. 'Take this meat and skin it and roast it,' he said to the hare; 'but my appetite is not so good as it was, and the only part I want for myself is the heart. The rest you can either eat yourself or give away to your friends.' 'Thank you,' replied the hare, balancing the donkey on her back as well as she was able, and though the legs trailed along the ground she managed to drag it to an open space some distance off, where she made a fire and roasted it. As soon as it was cooked, the hare took out the heart and had just finished eating it when the lion, who was tired of waiting, came up. 'I am hungry,' said he. 'Bring me the creature's heart. It is just what I want for supper.' 'But there is no heart,' answered the hare, looking up at the lion with a puzzled face. 'What nonsense!' said the lion. 'As if every beast had not got a heart. What do you mean?' 'This is a washerman's donkey,' replied the hare gravely. 'Well, and suppose it is?' 'Oh, fie!' exclaimed the fare. 'You, a lion and a grown-up person, and ask questions like that. If the donkey had had a heart would she be here now? The first time she came she knew you were trying to kill her, and ran away. Yet she came back a second time. Well, if she had had a heart would she have come back a second time? Now would she?' And the lion answered slowly, 'No, she would not.' 'So you think I am a washerman's donkey?' said the monkey to the shark, when the story was ended. 'You are wrong. I am not. And as the sun is getting low in the sky, it is time for you to begin your homeward journey. You will have a nice cool voyage, and I hope you will find the sultan better. Farewell!' And the monkey disappeared among the green branches, and was gone. Green, and Company, 1910), pp. 42-53. The story within a story about 'The Washerman's Donkey' belongs to Aarne-Thompson type 52. The version related here assumes that intelligence is seated in the heart. Other versions of this story feature the victim's brain.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
91,The Jellyfish and the Monkey,Japan,NA,"Yei Theodora Ozaki, The Japanese Fairy Book (Westminster: Archibald Constable and Company, 1903), pp. 189-202.","The palace of Rin Jin was at the bottom of the sea, and was so beautiful that no one has ever seen anything like it even in dreams. The walls were of coral, the roof of jadestone and chrysoprase, and the floors were of the finest mother-of-pearl. But the Dragon King, in spite of his widespreading kingdom, his beautiful palace and all its wonders, and his power, which none disputed throughout the whole sea, was not at all happy, for he reigned alone. At last he thought that if he married he would not only be happier, but also more powerful. So he decided to take a wife. Calling all his fish retainers together, he chose several of them as ambassadors to go through the sea and seek for a young Dragon Princess who would be his bride. At last they returned to the palace bringing with them a lovely young dragon. Her scales were of a glittering green like the wings of summer beetles, her eyes threw out glances of fire, and she was dressed in gorgeous robes. All the jewels of the sea worked in with embroidery adorned them. The king fell in love with her at once, and the wedding ceremony was celebrated with great splendour. Every living thing in the sea, from the great whales down to the little shrimps, came in shoals to offer their congratulations to the bride and bridegroom and to wish them a long and prosperous life. Never had there been such an assemblage or such gay festivities in the fish-world before. The train of bearers who carried the bride's possessions to her new home seemed to reach across the waves from one end of the sea to the other. Each fish carried a phosphorescent lantern and was dressed in ceremonial robes, gleaming blue and pink and silver; and the waves as they rose and fell and broke that night seemed to be rolling masses of white and green fire, for the phosphorus shone with double brilliancy in honour of the event. Now for a time the Dragon King and his bride lived very happily. They loved each other dearly, and the bridegroom day after day took delight in showing his bride all the wonders and treasures of his coral palace, and she was never tired of wandering with him through its vast halls and gardens. Life seemed to them both like a long summer's day. Two months passed in this happy way, and then the Dragon Queen fell ill and was obliged to stay in bed. The king was sorely troubled when he saw his precious bride so ill, and at once sent for the fish doctor to come and give her some medicine. He gave special orders to the servants to nurse her carefully and to wait upon her with diligence, but in spite of all the nurses' assiduous care and the medicine that the doctor prescribed, the young Queen showed no signs of recovery, but grew daily worse. Then the Dragon King interviewed the doctor and blamed him for not curing the queen. The doctor was alarmed at Rin Jin's evident displeasure, and excused his want of skill by saying that although he knew the right kind of medicine to give the invalid, it was impossible to find it in the sea. 'Do you mean to tell me that you can't get the medicine here?' asked the Dragon King. 'It is just as you say!' said the doctor. 'Tell me what it is you want for the queen?' demanded Rin Jin. 'I want the liver of a live monkey!' answered the doctor. 'The liver of a live monkey! Of course that will be most difficult to get,' said the king. 'If we could only get that for the queen, Her Majesty would soon recover,' said the doctor. 'Very well, that decides it; we must get it somehow or other. But where are we most likely to find a monkey?' asked the king. Then the doctor told the Dragon King that some distance to the south there was a Monkey Island where a great many monkeys lived. 'If only you could capture one of those monkeys?' said the doctor. 'How can any of my people capture a monkey?' said the Dragon King, greatly puzzled. 'The monkeys live on dry land, while we live in the water; and out of our element we are quite powerless! I don't see what we can do!' 'That has been my difficulty too,' said the doctor. 'But amongst your innumerable servants, you surely can find one who can go on shore for that express purpose!' 'Something must be done,' said the king, and calling his chief steward he consulted him on the matter. The chief steward thought for some time, and then, as if struck by a sudden thought, said joyfully: 'I know what we must do! There is the kurage (jellyfish). He is certainly ugly to look at, but he is proud of being able to walk on land with his four legs like a tortoise. Let us send him to the Island of Monkeys to catch one.' The jellyfish was then summoned to the king's presence, and was told by His Majesty what was required of him. The jellyfish, on being told of the unexpected mission which was to be entrusted to him, looked very troubled, and said that he had never been to the island in question, and as he had never had any experience in catching monkeys he was afraid that he would not be able to get one. 'Well,' said the chief steward, 'if you depend on your strength or dexterity you will never catch a monkey. The only way is to play a trick on one!' 'How can I play a trick on a monkey? I don't know how to do it,' said the perplexed jellyfish. 'This is what you must do,' said the wily chief steward. 'When you approach the Island of Monkeys and meet some of them, you must try to get very friendly with one. Tell him that you are a servant of the Dragon King, and invite him to come and visit you and see the Dragon King's palace. Try and describe to him as vividly as you can the grandeur of the Palace and the wonders of the sea so as to arouse his curiosity and make him long to see it all!' 'But how am I to get the monkey here? You know monkeys don't swim!' said the reluctant jellyfish. 'You must carry him on your back. What is the use of your shell if you can't do that!' said the chief steward. 'Won't he be very heavy?' queried kurage again. 'You mustn't mind that, for you are working for the Dragon King!' replied the chief steward. 'I will do my best then,' said the jellyfish, and he swam away from the palace and started off towards the Monkey Island. Swimming swiftly he reached his destination in a few hours, and was landed by a convenient wave upon the shore. On looking round he saw not far away a big pine tree with drooping branches and on one of those branches was just what he was looking for -- a live monkey. 'I'm in luck!' thought the jellyfish. 'Now I must flatter the creature and try to entice him to come back with me to the palace, and my part will be done!' So the jellyfish slowly walked towards the pine tree. In those ancient days the jellyfish had four legs and a hard shell like a tortoise. When he got to the pine tree he raised his voice and said: 'How do you do, Mr. Monkey? Isn't it a lovely day?' 'A very fine day,' answered the monkey from the tree. 'I have never seen you in this part of the world before. Where have you come from and what is your name?' 'My name is kurage or jellyfish. I am one of the servants of the Dragon King. I have heard so much of your beautiful island that I have come on purpose to see it,' answered the jellyfish. 'I am very glad to see you,' said the monkey. 'By-the-bye,' said the jellyfish, 'have you ever seen the palace of the Dragon King of the Sea where I live?' 'I have often heard of it, but I have never seen it!' answered the monkey. 'Then you ought most surely to come. It is a great pity for you to go through life without seeing it. The beauty of the palace is beyond all description -- it is certainly to my mind the most lovely place in the world,' said the jellyfish. 'Is it so beautiful as all that?' asked the monkey in astonishment. Then the jellyfish saw his chance, and went on describing to the best of his ability the beauty and grandeur of the Sea King's palace, and the wonders of the garden with its curious trees of white, pink, and red coral, and the still more curious fruits like great jewels hanging on the branches. The monkey grew more and more interested, and as he listened he came down the tree step by step so as not to lose a word of the wonderful story. 'I have got him at last!' thought the jellyfish, but aloud he said: 'Mr. Monkey, I must now go back. As you have never seen the palace of the Dragon King, won't you avail yourself of this splendid opportunity by coming with me? I shall then be able to act as guide and show you all the sights of the sea, which will be even more wonderful to you -- a land-lubber.' 'I should love to go,' said the monkey, ' but how am I to cross the water? I can't swim, as you surely know!' 'There is no difficulty about that. I can carry you on my back.' 'That will be troubling you too much,' said the monkey. 'I can do it quite easily. I am stronger than I look, so you needn't hesitate,' said the jellyfish, and taking the monkey on his back he stepped into the sea. 'Keep very still, Mr. Monkey,' said the jellyfish. 'You mustn't fall into the sea; I am responsible for your safe arrival at the King's palace.' 'Please don't go so fast, or I am sure I shall fall off,' said the monkey. Thus they went along, the jellyfish skimming through the waves with the monkey sitting on his back. When they were about half-way, the jellyfish, who knew very little of anatomy, began to wonder if the monkey had his liver with him or not! 'Mr. Monkey, tell me, have you such a thing as a liver with you?' The monkey was very much surprised at this queer question, and asked what the jellyfish wanted with a liver. 'That is the most important thing of all,' said the stupid jellyfish, 'so as soon as I recollected it, I asked you if you had yours with you?' 'Why is my liver so important to you?' asked the monkey. 'Oh! you will learn the reason later,' said the jellyfish. The monkey grew more and more curious and suspicious, and urged the jellyfish to tell him for what his liver was wanted, and ended up by appealing to his hearer's feelings by saying that he was very troubled at what he had been told. Then the jellyfish, seeing how anxious the monkey looked, was sorry for him, and told him everything. How the Dragon Queen had fallen ill, and how the doctor had said that only the liver of a live monkey would cure her, and how the Dragon King had sent him to find one. 'Now I have done as I was told, and as soon as we arrive at the palace the doctor will want your liver, so I feel sorry for you!' said the silly jellyfish. The poor monkey was horrified when he learnt all this, and very angry at the trick played upon him. He trembled with fear at the thought of what was in store for him. But the monkey was a clever animal, and he thought it the wisest plan not to show any sign of the fear he felt, so he tried to calm himself and to think of some way by which he might escape. 'The doctor means to cut me open and then take my liver out! Why I shall die!' thought the monkey. At last a bright thought struck him, so he said quite cheerfully to the jellyfish: 'What a pity it was, Mr. Jellyfish, that you did not speak of this before we left the island!' 'If I had told you why I wanted you to accompany me you would certainly have refused to come,' answered the jellyfish. 'You are quite mistaken,' said the monkey. 'Monkeys can very well spare a liver or two, especially when it is wanted for the Dragon Queen of the Sea. If I had only guessed of what you were in need, I should have presented you with one without waiting to be asked. I have several livers. But the greatest pity is, that as you did not speak in time, I have left all my livers hanging on the pine tree.' 'Have you left your liver behind you?' asked the jellyfish. 'Yes,' said the cunning monkey, 'during the daytime I usually leave my liver hanging up on the branch of a tree, as it is very much in the way when I am climbing about from tree to tree. Today, listening to your interesting conversation, I quite forgot it, and left it behind when I came off with you. If only you had spoken in time I should have remembered it, and should have brought it along with me!' The jellyfish was very disappointed when he heard this, for he believed every word the monkey said. The monkey was of no good without a liver. Finally the jellyfish stopped and told the monkey so. 'Well,' said the monkey, 'that is soon remedied. I am really sorry to think of all your trouble; but if you will only take me back to the place where you found me, I shall soon be able to get my liver.' The jellyfish did not at all like the idea of going all the way back to the island again; but the monkey assured him that if he would be so kind as to take him back he would get his very best liver, and bring it with him the next time. Thus persuaded, the jellyfish turned his course towards the Monkey Island once more. No sooner had the jellyfish reached the shore than the sly monkey landed, and getting up into the pine tree where the jellyfish had first seen him, he cut several capers amongst the branches with joy at being safe home again, and then looking down at the jellyfish said: 'So many thanks for all the trouble you have taken! Please present my compliments to the Dragon King on your return!' The jellyfish wondered at this speech and the mocking tone in which it was uttered. Then he asked the monkey if it wasn't his intention to come with him at once after getting his liver. The monkey replied laughingly that he couldn't afford to lose his liver; it was too precious. 'But remember your promise!' pleaded the jellyfish, now very discouraged. 'That promise was false, and anyhow it is now broken!' answered the monkey. Then he began to jeer at the jellyfish and told him that he had been deceiving him the whole time; that he had no wish to lose his life, which he certainly would have done had he gone on to the Sea King's palace to the old doctor waiting for him, instead of persuading the jellyfish to return under false pretences. 'Of course, I won't give you my liver, but come and get it if you can!' added the monkey mockingly from the tree. There was nothing for the jellyfish to do now but to repent of his stupidity, and return to the Dragon King of the Sea and confess his failure, so he started sadly and slowly to swim back. The last thing he heard as he glided away, leaving the island behind him, was the monkey laughing at him. Meanwhile the Dragon King, the doctor, the chief steward, and all the servants were waiting impatiently for the return of the jellyfish. When they caught sight of him approaching the palace, they hailed him with delight. They began to thank him profusely for all the trouble he had taken in going to Monkey Island, and then they asked him where the monkey was. Now the day of reckoning had come for the jellyfish. He quaked all over as he told his story. How he had brought the monkey half-way over the sea, and then had stupidly let out the secret of his commission; how the monkey had deceived him by making him believe that he had left his liver behind him. The Dragon King's wrath was great, and he at once gave orders that the jellyfish was to be severely punished. The punishment was a horrible one. All the bones were to be drawn out from his living body, and he was to be beaten with sticks. The poor jellyfish, humiliated and horrified beyond all words, cried out for pardon. But the Dragon King's order had to be obeyed. The servants of the Palace forthwith each brought out a stick and surrounded the jellyfish, and after pulling out his bones they beat him to a flat pulp, and then took him out beyond the palace gates and threw him into the water. Here he was left to suffer and repent his foolish chattering, and to grow accustomed to his new state of bonelessness. From this story it is evident that in former times the jellyfish once had a shell and bones something like a tortoise, but, ever since the Dragon King's sentence was carried out on the ancestor of the jelly fishes, his descendants have all been soft and boneless just as you see them today thrown up by the waves high upon the shores of Japan.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
91,The Monkey's Heart,"India, Jataka Tales",NA,"The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1895), book 2, no. 208.","Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life at the foot of the Himalayas as a monkey. He grew strong and sturdy, big of frame, well to do, and lived by a curve of the river Ganges in a forest haunt. Now at that time there was a crocodile dwelling in the Ganges. The crocodile's mate saw the great frame of the monkey, and she conceived a longing to eat his heart. So she said to her lord, 'Sir, I desire to eat the heart of that great king of the monkeys!' 'Good wife,' said the crocodile, 'I live in the water and he lives on dry land. How can we catch him?' 'By hook or by crook,' she replied, 'he must be caught. If I don't get him, I shall die.' 'All right,' answered the crocodile, consoling her, 'don't trouble yourself. I have a plan. I will give you his heart to eat.' So when the Bodhisatta was sitting on the bank of the Ganges, after taking a drink of water, the crocodile drew near, and said, 'Sir Monkey, why do you live on bad fruits in this old familiar place? On the other side of the Ganges there is no end to the mango trees, and labuja trees, with fruit sweet as honey! Is it not better to cross over and have all kinds of wild fruit to eat?' 'Lord Crocodile,' the monkey answered. 'The Ganges is deep and wide. How shall I get across?' 'If you want to go, I will let you sit upon my back, and carry you over.' The monkey trusted him, and agreed. 'Come here, then,' said the crocodile. 'Up on my back with you!' and up the monkey climbed. But when the crocodile had swum a little way, he plunged the monkey under the water. 'Good friend, you are letting me sink!' cried the monkey. 'What is that for?' The crocodile said, 'You think I am carrying you out of pure good nature? Not a bit of it! My wife has a longing for your heart, and I want to give it to her to eat.!' 'Friend,' said the monkey, 'it is nice of you to tell me. Why, if our heart were inside us, when we go jumping among the tree tops it would be all knocked to pieces!' 'Well, where do you keep it?' asked the crocodile. The Bodhisatta pointed out a fig tree, with clusters of ripe fruit, standing not far off. 'See,' said he, 'there are our hearts hanging on yonder fig tree.' 'If you will show me your heart,' said the crocodile, 'then I won't kill you.' 'Take me to the tree, then, and I will point it out to you.' The crocodile brought him to the place. The monkey leapt off his back, and, climbing up the fig tree, sat upon it. 'Oh silly crocodile!' said he. 'You thought that there were creatures that kept their hearts in a treetop! You are a fool, and I have outwitted you! You may keep your fruit to yourself. Your body is great, but you have no sense.' And then to explain this idea he uttered the following stanzas: The crocodile, feeling as sad and miserable as if he had lost a thousand pieces of money, went back sorrowing to the place where he lived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
91,The Monkey and the Crocodile,"India, Suka Saptati; or, Seventy Tales of a Parrot",NA,"The Enchanted Parrot: Being a Selection from the 'Suka Saptati,' or, The Seventy Tales of a Parrot, translated by B. Hale Wortham (London: Luzac and Company, 1912), story 67, pp. 117-120.","In a forest called Pushpâkara, lived a small monkey whose name was Vanapriya. One day he was walking close to the river bank, when he saw a crocodile basking in the sun. 'Friend Crocodile,' said he, 'are you tired of life that you have come so close into land?' The crocodile heard what the monkey said and replied: 'He who has a situation that suits him, he who receives due wages for his services, is perfectly content with the place in which he happens to be. For it has been said: Lanka is altogether made of gold, yet I care nothing for it. Ayodhya, the home of my fathers, is but poor, yet I delight in it. But there is something more than that, for your acquaintance has added additional pleasure to my existence. For it is written: A sacred bathing-place is only profitable sometimes. But the mere sight of a good man is always a source of purification. So now a piece of luck has happened to me, in that I have come across one who speaks such kindly words as you.' 'My dear Crocodile,' answered the monkey,' from this day forward I shall be entirely devoted to you, for your words are indeed the words of friendship. As it has been said: Friendship, in the opinion of wise men, is the society of the good. Therefore,' continued the monkey, 'let me offer you such hospitality as I am capable of.' So saying he brought the crocodile some ripe fruit as sweet as nectar. So after this every day the monkey used to bring his friend the crocodile plaintain fruit, and the crocodile took it home to his wife. One day she asked him where this fruit came from, and he told her the whole story, exactly as it all happened. She thought to herself, 'This monkey seems to enjoy excellent fruit, I wonder what his ordinary food is like,' and so, being in a condition which gave her a craving for all sorts of strange out-of-the-way things, she said to her husband: 'I must have some of that fruit which the monkey is always eating; if you don't get it for me I shall certainly die.' So off the crocodile started on his errand, and soon arrived at the river bank where he had met the monkey the first time. The monkey was there, and the crocodile said to him, 'My dear friend! Your brother's wife is very anxious to see you; will you come with me to our house?' The monkey accepted the invitation, and without any hesitation mounted the crocodile's back, and they started on their journey. On the way the monkey became a little anxious, and said: 'It has occurred to me how am I to find my way back?' The crocodile recognized the monkey's difficulty, and explained carefully to him the way home. The monkey replied, 'My good crocodile! It is of no use your telling me all this, I am sure I should not recollect it. Besides, I think my affection for you has something lessened, so it is of no use my going home with you.' The crocodile rejoined, 'Well, where shall I put you down?' 'My dear friend!' answered the monkey, 'haven't you heard the saying: My heart is always in the fig tree; my desire always for the sacred fig? If you know what that means you will take me back at once.' The stupid crocodile at these words turned round and took the monkey back to the river bank, and as soon as they had got there, the monkey jumped off the crocodile's back, and scrambled up into the tree. When he was well out of reach, he turned round and said with a jeer, 'Go along with you! As long as I am up here I am out of your clutches. Wise men say, There can be no friendship between creatures that live on land and those that live in the water.' So the crocodile turned back and went sadly home, and the moral is: That he who has wit enough, can get out of difficulties, whatever they may be.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
91,The Monkey and the Jellyfish,Japan,Lang identifies his source only as a book entitled Japanische Märchen.,"Andrew Lang, The Violet Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1901), pp. 275-280.","Children must often have wondered why jellyfishes have no shells, like so many of the creatures that are washed up every day on the beach. In old times this was not so; the jellyfish had as hard a shell as any of them, but he lost it through his own fault, as may be seen in this story. The sea-queen Otohime grew suddenly very ill. The swiftest messengers were sent hurrying to fetch the best doctors from every country under the sea, but it was all of no use; the queen grew rapidly worse instead of better. Everyone had almost given up hope, when one day a doctor arrived who was cleverer than the rest, and said that the only thing that would cure her was the liver of an ape. Now apes do not dwell under the sea, so a council of the wisest heads in the nation was called to consider the question how a liver could be obtained. At length it was decided that the turtle, whose prudence was well known, should swim to land and contrive to catch a living ape and bring him safely to the ocean kingdom. It was easy enough for the council to entrust this mission to the turtle, but not at all so easy for him to fulfil it. However, he swam to a part of the coast that was covered with tall trees, where he thought the apes were likely to be; for he was old, and had seen many things. It was some time before he caught sight of any monkeys, and he often grew tired with watching for them, so that one hot day he fell fast asleep, in spite of all his efforts to keep awake. By and by some apes, who had been peeping at him from the tops of the trees, where they had been carefully hidden from the turtle's eyes, stole noiselessly down, and stood round staring at him, for they had never seen a turtle before, and did not know what to make of it. At last one young monkey, bolder than the rest, stooped down and stroked the shining shell that the strange new creature wore on its back. The movement, gentle though it was, woke the turtle. With one sweep he seized the monkey's hand in his mouth, and held it tight, in spite of every effort to pull it away. The other apes, seeing that the turtle was not to be trifled with, ran off, leaving their young brother to his fate. Then the turtle said to the monkey, 'If you will be quiet, and do what I tell you, I won't hurt you. But you must get on my back and come with me.' The monkey, seeing there was no help for it, did as he was bid; indeed he could not have resisted, as his hand was still in the turtle's mouth. Delighted at having secured his prize, the turtle hastened back to the shore and plunged quickly into the water. He swam faster than he had ever done before, and soon reached the royal palace. Shouts of joy broke forth from the attendants when he was seen approaching, and some of them ran to tell the queen that the monkey was there, and that before long she would be as well as ever she was. In fact, so great was their relief that they gave the monkey such a kind welcome, and were so anxious to make him happy and comfortable, that he soon forgot all the fears that had beset him as to his fate, and was generally quite at his ease, though every now and then a fit of homesickness would come over him, and he would hide himself in some dark corner till it had passed away. It was during one of these attacks of sadness that a jellyfish happened to swim by. At that time jellyfishes had shells. At the sight of the gay and lively monkey crouching under a tall rock, with his eyes closed and his head bent, the jellyfish was filled with pity, and stopped, saying, 'Ah, poor fellow, no wonder you weep; a few days more, and they will come and kill you and give your liver to the queen to eat.' The monkey shrank back horrified at these words and asked the jellyfish what crime he had committed that deserved death. 'Oh, none at all,' replied the jellyfish, 'but your liver is the only thing that will cure our queen, and how can we get at it without killing you? You had better submit to your fate, and make no noise about it, for though I pity you from my heart there is no way of helping you.' Then he went away, leaving the ape cold with horror. At first he felt as if his liver was already being taken from his body, but soon he began to wonder if there was no means of escaping this terrible death, and at length he invented a plan which he thought would do. For a few days he pretended to be gay and happy as before, but when the sun went in, and rain fell in torrents, he wept and howled from dawn to dark, till the turtle, who was his head keeper, heard him, and came to see what was the matter. Then the monkey told him that before he left home he had hung his liver out on a bush to dry, and if it was always going to rain like this it would become quite useless. And the rogue made such a fuss and moaning that he would have melted a heart of stone, and nothing would content him but that somebody should carry him back to land and let him fetch his liver again. The queen's councilors were not the wisest of people, and they decided between them that the turtle should take the monkey back to his native land and allow him to get his liver off the bush, but desired the turtle not to lose sight of his charge for a single moment. The monkey knew this, but trusted to his power of beguiling the turtle when the time came, and mounted on his back with feelings of joy, which he was, however, careful to conceal. They set out, and in a few hours were wandering about the forest where the ape had first been caught, and when the monkey saw his family peering out from the tree tops, he swung himself up by the nearest branch, just managing to save his hind leg from being seized by the turtle. He told them all the dreadful things that had happened to him, and gave a war cry which brought the rest of the tribe from the neighboring hills. At a word from him they rushed in a body to the unfortunate turtle, threw him on his back, and tore off the shield that covered his body. Then with mocking words they hunted him to the shore, and into the sea, which he was only too thankful to reach alive. Faint and exhausted he entered the queen's palace, for the cold of the water struck upon his naked body, and made him feel ill and miserable. But wretched though he was, he had to appear before the queen's advisers and tell them all that had befallen him, and how he had suffered the monkey to escape. But, as sometimes happens, the turtle was allowed to go scot-free, and had his shell given back to him, and all the punishment fell on the poor jellyfish, who was condemned by the queen to go shieldless for ever after. Green, and Company, 1901), pp. 275-280. Märchen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1335A,Nasreddin Hodja Rescues the Moon,Turkey,"For two additional formulations of this story see: George Borrow, The Turkish Jester; or, The Pleasantries of Cogia Nasr Eddin Effendi (Ipswich: W. Webber, 1894), pp. 51-52. W. A. Clouston, The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (London: Elliot Stock, 1888), p. 92. George Borrow, The Turkish Jester; or, The Pleasantries of Cogia Nasr Eddin Effendi (Ipswich: W. Webber, 1894), pp. 51-52. W. A. Clouston, The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (London: Elliot Stock, 1888), p. 92. Link to more stories about Nasreddin Hodja.","Albert Wesselski, Der Hodscha Nasreddin, vol. 1 (Weimar: Alexander Duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 124, p. 64.","One day the Hodja went to the well to draw some water. There he saw the moon's reflection. Thinking it fallen into the well, he said, 'I will have to pull it out immediately.' He took a rope with a hook fastened to one end and lowered it into the well. The hook caught on a rock, and the rope broke, causing the Hodja to fall onto his back. Lying there he saw the moon in the heaven and cried out, 'Praise and honor Allah! I injured myself, but at least the moon is back where it belongs.' Hodscha Nasreddin, vol. 1 (Weimar: Alexander Duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 124, p. 64. George Borrow, The (Ipswich: W. Webber, 1894), pp. 51-52. W. A. Clouston, The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (London: Elliot Stock, 1888), p. 92.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1335A,The Monkeys and the Moon,Tibet,NA,"F. Anton von Schiefner, Tibetan Tales Derived from Indian Sources, translated from the German by W. R. S. Ralston (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1906), no. 45, p. 353.","In long-past times there lived a band of monkeys in a forest. As they rambled about they saw the reflection of the moon in a well, and the leader of the band said, 'O friends, the moon has fallen into the well . The world is now without a moon. Ought not we to draw it out?' The monkeys said, 'Good; we will draw it out.' So they began to hold counsel as to how they were to draw it out. Some of them said, 'Do not you know? The monkeys must form a chain, and so draw the moon out.' So they formed a chain, the first monkey hanging on to the branch of a tree, and the second to the first monkey's tail, and a third one in its turn to the tail of the second one. When in this way they were all hanging on to one another, the branch began to bend a good deal. The water became troubled, the reflection of the moon disappeared, the branch broke, and all the monkeys fell into the well and were disagreeably damaged. A deity uttered this verse, 'When the foolish have a foolish leader, they all go to ruin, like the monkeys which wanted to draw the moon up from the well.' Tales Derived from Indian Sources, translated from the German by W. R. S. Ralston (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1906), no. 45, p. 353. fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
247,Jupiter and the Baby Show,Ambrose Bierce,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 160. Source (Internet Archive): Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 160.","Jupiter held a baby show, open to all animals, and a monkey entered her hideous cub for a prize, but Jupiter only laughed at her. 'It is all very well,' said the monkey, 'to laugh at my offspring, but you go into any gallery of antique sculpture and look at the statues and busts of the fellows that you begot yourself.' 'Sh! don't expose me,' said Jupiter, and awarded her the first prize.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
247,Jupiter and the Monkey,Aesop,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Æsop's Fables, a new translation by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: William Heinemann; New York: Doubleday, Page, and Company, 1916), p. 48.","Jupiter issued a proclamation to all the beasts, and offered a prize to the one who, in his judgment, produced the most beautiful offspring. Among the rest came the monkey, carrying a baby monkey in her arms, a hairless, flat-nosed little fright. When they saw it, the gods all burst into peal on peal of laughter. But the monkey hugged her little one to her, and said, 'Jupiter may give the prize to whomsoever he likes. But I shall always think my baby the most beautiful of them all.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
247,One's Own Children Are Always Prettiest,Norway,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, [translated by] George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), p. 187. Source (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, [translated by] George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), p. 164.","A sportsman went out once into a wood to shoot, and he met a snipe. 'Dear friend,' said the snipe, 'don't shoot my children!' 'How shall I know your children?' asked the sportsman; 'what are they like?' 'Oh!' said the snipe, ' mine are the prettiest children in all the wood.' 'Very well,' said the sportsman, 'I'll not shoot them; don't be afraid.' But for all that, when he came back, there he had a whole string of young snipes in his hand which he had shot. 'Oh, oh!' said the snipe, 'why did you shoot my children after all?' 'What! these your children!' said the sportsman; 'why, I shot the ugliest I could find, that I did!' 'Woe is me!' said the snipe; 'don't you know that each one thinks his own children the prettiest in the world?'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
247,The Crow and Its Ugly Fledglings,Romania,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Sidgwick and Jackson, 1915), no. 46, pp. 170-71.","Of all the birds the crow is considered the ugliest, especially its young fledglings. The legend tells that sometime after God had created all the living beings, he called everyone to see them and their offspring. He wanted to see how the young birds and animals looked, and then to give them suitable gifts, and food for their little ones. They came one by one, and God looked at them, patted some and stroked others, and was very pleased with every one of them, for each one had something of beauty in it. And so he blessed them and gave them food by which to live. The last to come was the crow, bringing her little brood with her, very proud of them. When God cast his eyes upon the young crows, he spat in astonishment, and said, 'Surely these are not my creatures. I could not have made such ugly things. Every one of my creatures has such beautiful young ones that they are a pleasure to look at, but yours are so ugly that it makes one sick to look at them. Where did you get this one?' 'Where should I get them from?' replied the crow. 'It is my very own young child,' she added with pride. 'You had better go back and bring me another one. This is much too ugly. I cannot look at it.' Annoyed at the words of God, the crow went away and flew all over the earth to search for another young one that would be more beautiful than the one she had brought to God. But no other young bird appeared so beautiful in her eyes as her own. So she returned back to God and said, 'I have been all over the world, and I have searched high and low, but young birds more beautiful and more dainty than mine I have not been able to find.' Then God smilingly replied, 'Quite right. Just so are all mothers. No other child is so beautiful in their eyes as their own.' Then he blessed the little crows and sent them away into the world with his gifts.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
247,The Eagle and the Owl,Jean de La Fontaine,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Jean de La Fontaine, The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 5, fable 18, pp. 116-17.. Source (Internet Archive): Jean de la Fontaine, The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by E. Wright (London: Ingram, Cooke, and Company, 1853), p. 162.","The eagle and the owl, resolved to cease Their war, embraced in pledge of peace. On faith of king, on faith of owl, they swore That they would eat each other's chicks no more. 'But know you mine?' said Wisdom's bird.' Not I, indeed,' the eagle cried. 'The worse for that,' the owl replied: 'I fear your oath's a useless word; I fear that you, as king, will not Consider duly who or what: You kings and gods, of what's before ye, Are apt to make one category. Adieu, my young, if you should meet them!' 'Describe them, then, or let me greet them, And, on my life, I will not eat them,' The eagle said. The owl replied: 'My little ones, I say with pride, For grace of form cannot be match'd, -- The prettiest birds that e'er were hatch'd; By this you cannot fail to know them; 'Tis needless, therefore, that I show them. Pray don't forget, but keep this mark in view, Lest fate should curse my happy nest by you.' At length God gives the owl a set of heirs, And while at early eve abroad he fares, In quest of birds and mice for food, Our eagle haply spies the brood, As on some craggy rock they sprawl, Or nestle in some ruined wall, (But which it matters not at all,) And thinks them ugly little frights, Grim, sad, with voice like shrieking sprites. 'These chicks,' says he, 'with looks almost infernal, Can't be the darlings of our friend nocturnal. I'll sup of them.' And so he did, not slightly: -- He never sups, if he can help it, lightly. The owl return'd; and, sad, he found Nought left but claws upon the ground. He pray'd the gods above and gods below To smite the brigand who had caused his woe. Quoth one, 'On you alone the blame must fall; Or rather on the law of nature, Which wills that every earthly creature Shall think its like the loveliest of all. You told the eagle of your young ones' graces; You gave the picture of their faces: -- Had it of likeness any traces?'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
247,Why Is There Enmity Between the Crow and the Hawk?,Romania,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Sidgwick and Jackson, 1915), no. 47, pp. 172-73.","The crow was in very great distress, for however she tried and whatever she did, she could not rear a family. No sooner were the young hatched, than the hawk would come and pick them up. In vain did she try to hide her nest in the hollows of a tree or in the thickets of a bush. As sure as death would the hawk find them and eat them. Not knowing what to do, she bethought herself and said, 'How would it do if I try and get the hawk to be godmother? For then, being a near relation, she is sure to spare my little ones.' Said and done. She went out of her place to search for the hawk, and finding her, she said, 'Good morning, sister.' 'Good morning,' replied the hawk. 'How pleased I should feel,' said the crow, 'if you would become godmother to my children.' 'With pleasure,' replied the hawk. 'Why not?' And so they made up a covenant of friendship and of good fellowship between them. Before leaving the hawk, the crow said to her, 'Now, sister, I have one request to make.' 'Granted,' replied the hawk. 'What is it?' 'I only beg of you to spare my children. Do not eat them when you have found them.' 'All right,' replied the hawk. 'I shall certainly not touch them. But tell me how they look, so that in case I meet them, I may spare them.' 'Oh,' replied the crow, 'mine are the most beautiful creatures in the world. They are more lovely than any other bird can boast of.' 'Very well. Rest assured. Go in peace.' And they parted. The crow, being quite satisfied with the hawk's promise, began flying about the next day trying to find something with which to feed her children. The hawk the next morning went about her own business and tried to find some nice little young ones to eat. Flying about, she saw the young ones of the thrush, the blackbird, and of other beautiful birds, and she said to herself, 'Surely these are the children of the crow. Look how lovely and beautiful they are. I am not going to touch them.' She went all day without finding any little birds but these. And she said to herself, 'I must keep my word to my sister. I am not going to touch them.' And she went to bed hungry. The next day the same thing happened, and still the hawk kept her word and would not touch them. On the third day she was so hungry that she could scarcely see out of her eyes. Roaming about, the hawk suddenly lighted upon the nest of the crow. Seeing the little, miserable, ugly things in the nest, the hawk at first would not touch them, although she never dreamt that these ugly things were the children of the crow, so much praised by her for their beauty, and thought they must belong to some hideous bird. But what is one to do when one is hungry? One eats what one gets, and not finding anything better, she sat down and gobbled them up one by one, and then flew away. Not long after the hawk had left, the crow came in, feeling sure this time to find her little ones unhurt. But how great was her dismay when she found the nest empty! First she thought the little birds had tried their wings and were flying about in the neighborhood, and she went in search of them. Not finding them, she began to be a little more anxious, and hunting a little more closely, found on the ground near some rushes some tufts of feathers with little bones and blood. She knew at once that the hawk had again been there, feeding on her children. Full of wrath and fury, she went to find the hawk. Meeting her, she said, 'A nice sister and godmother you are! After you had promised most faithfully not to touch my children, no sooner had I turned my back on them, then you come again and eat them.' 'I do not understand what you are saying,' replied the hawk. 'It is your own fault. You told me your children were the most beautiful in the world, and those which I have eaten were monsters of hideousness. If I had not felt the pinch of hunger so strong, I would not have touched them, not for anything, such ugly things they were! They nearly made me sick.' 'Is that the way you keep your promise?' replied the angry crow. 'After having eaten them, you even have the impudence to tell lies and insult me. Off with you! And woe betide you if I ever catch you, I will teach you to behave properly.' From that day on, the hawk, if it gets near the crows, attacks them. And from that day on there is implacable hatred between the crows and the hawks.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
720,The Crow's Nest,Hungary,NA,"W. Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, The Folk-Tales of the Magyars (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), pp. 298-301.","There was once in the world a poor man who had a wife and two children, the elder a girl, the younger a boy. The poor man went out one day plowing with two wretched little oxen, his only property; his wife remained at home to do the cooking. The girl, being the older of the two children, was often sent out on short errands; upon the present occasion, too, she was away from the house, her mother having sent her out to borrow a peel, the dough for the bread being very nearly spoilt for having been kept too long in the trough. Availing herself of the girl's absence, the mother killed the poor little boy and hid him in a pot of stewed cabbage. By the time that the girl returned, her dear little brother was half stewed. When the mess was quite done, the woman poured it into a smaller pot, placed the small pot into a sling, and sent the food by her daughter to her husband who was in the field. The man liked the dish very much, and asked the girl, 'What kind of meat is this? It is very nice.' 'I believe, dear father, mother had to kill a small lamb last night, and no doubt she cooked it for you,' replied the girl. But somehow or other the girl learned the true state of things, and the news nearly broke her heart. She immediately went back to the field, gathered up the bones of her little brother, carefully wrapped them into a beautiful piece of new white linen and took them into the nearest forest, where she hid them in a hollow tree. Nobody can foretell what will happen, and so it came to pass that the bones did not remain very long in the hollow of the tree. Next spring a crow came and hatched them, and they became exactly such a boy as they were before. The boy would sometimes perch on the edge of the hollow, and sing to a beautiful tune the following words: My mother killed me, My father ate me, My sister gathered up my bones, She wrapped them in clean white linen, She placed them in a hollow tree, And now, behold, I'm a young crow. Upon one occasion, just as he was singing this song, a man with a cloak strolled by. 'Go on, my son,' he said, 'repeat that pretty song for me! I live in a big village, and have traveled a good deal in my lifetime, but I have never heard such a pretty song.' So the boy again commenced to sing: And now, behold, I'm a young crow. The man with the cloak liked the song very much, and made the boy a present of his cloak. Then a man with a crutch-stick hobbled by. 'Well, my boy,' he said, 'sing me that song again. I live in a big village, have traveled far, but have never heard such a pretty tune.' And the boy again commenced to sing: The man with the crutch-stick, too, liked the song immensely, and gave the boy his crutch-stick. The next one to pass was a miller. He also asked the boy to repeat the pretty tune, and as the boy complied with his request the miller presented him with a millstone. Then a sudden thought flashed across the boy's head, and he flew to his father's house, settled on the roof, and commenced to sing: The woman was terrified, and said to her daughter, 'Go and drive away that bird, I don't like its croaking.' The girl went out and tried to drive away the bird, but instead of flying away the young crow continued to sing the same song, and threw down the cloak to his sister. The girl was much pleased with the present, ran into the house and exclaimed, 'Look here what a nice present that ugly bird has given to me!' 'Very nice indeed; very nice indeed. I will go out too,' said her father. So he went out, and the bird threw down to him the crutch-stick. The old man was highly delighted with the gift; he was getting very weak, and the crutch-stick came in useful to him as a support. 'Look here what a strong crutch-stick he has given to me ! It will be a great help to me in my old age.' Then his mother jumped up from behind the oven and said, 'I must go out too; if presents won't shower at least a few might drivel to me.' So she went out and looked up to the roof, and the boy gave her a present for which she had not bargained. He threw the millstone at her, which killed her on the spot. Thus far goes our tale. Here it ends. Folk-Tales of the Magyars (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), pp. 298-301.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
720,The Girl and the Boy,Austria,NA,"Ignaz and Joseph Zingerle, 'Mädchen und Bübchen' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Buchhandlung, 1852), no. 12, pp. 64-68.","There once lived near a thick forest a woodcutter who had a wicked wife two good children. Now the woodcutter was very poor and had scarcely enough bread to still his own hunger and that of his family. One day the father again gone into the woods, and the wicked mother was alone in their small hut. The wicked mother said to the children, 'Go into the forest and collect some wood. The first one of you to return home will get a very beautiful The girl and the boy went out into the forest to collect wood and hurriedly gathered up two bundles of twigs. Having tied up the bundles, they quickly turned their steps toward home. But as they approached their hut the more uneasy they grew. It was as though they had stones on their hearts. As they were walking along, the boy's shoulder strap broke, and he asked his sister, 'Wait for me. My shoulder strap broke, and I have to tie it together.' But the girl thought about the beautiful apple that their mother had promised, and she hurried onward. She had gone only a little way when her shoulder strap broke as well. Her brother caught up with her, panting under his heavy burden of wood. The girl now asked him, 'Wait for me. My shoulder strap broke, and I have to tie it together.' But the boy had no ears for his sister's request, and he replied, 'You didn't wait for me. Now I'm going to get the apple.' The boy ran and ran, finally arriving at home. Throwing his bundle of wood into the empty kitchen, he asked his mother for the promised apple. 'Go upstairs to the storeroom. The apples are there in the chest. You can get three of them,' said the mother. They boy was not happy with this answer and told his mother that he wanted her to fetch the apples, as she did other times. The mother finally gave in to the boy's wishes, and they went together to the storeroom and to the chest where the apples were. The boy was overjoyed at the sight of the apples. He clapped his hands, then leaned over into the chest to get his apples. While he was happily looking at them, his mother suddenly slammed the lid shut. The poor boy's head rolled into the chest, and his body lay there on the floor motionless and lifeless. The wicked mother took the corpse and hung it on a nail behind the storeroom door. In the meantime the girl, who had fixed her broken shoulder strap, arrived with her bundle of wood. She unloaded it in the kitchen and asked her mother for an apple. The mother was very friendly, beckoned her nearer, and gave her a red apple. The girl bit into the apple, and the mother went to the hearth to fix a noon meal for the father, who was chopping wood in the forest. 'Go upstairs to the storeroom and fetch me some flour and lard,' said mother to the girl. 'But do not look behind the door.' The poor little sister went upstairs to the storeroom, and she did look behind the door, and she saw her poor dead brother hanging there. The girl cried so bitterly that a stone would have felt sorry for her. Tears dripped to the floor. Finally she had to go downstairs to her mother, and crying, she brought her the flour and lard she had asked for. 'Did you look behind the door?' the wicked mother asked the crying girl. 'Oh no,' replied the poor child, crying even harder and holding her worn-out blue apron in front of her face. The mother was satisfied with her answer and sent the sobbing girl out the dark woods with the father's noon meal. Today the girl took no pleasure in the squirrels that were climbing about in the fir trees, nor in the pinecones and wildflowers, but instead went her way quietly crying. She finally came to her father, who quickly reached for soup, for he was hungry. He was very surprised to see meat in his soup today, because for a long time he had not even seen a little piece of meat, much less had one in his mouth. He sat down beneath a large, beautiful beech tree and began to eat. He took the first piece of meat onto his bone spoon and was about to put it into his mouth when a little bird flew to the tree and began to sing: Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman, My mother cut off my head, My sister carried me out, My father gnawed my bones clean, Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman. The woodcutter found this very strange, and the little bird gave him no peace, singing over and over again: The father felt more and more ill at ease, until even the rustling of the leaves frightened him. Then he went home with the poor girl, who was sad and spoke not a word. Meanwhile the wicked mother had busied herself packing away and hiding dead boy. However, many, many little birds flattered around her, leaving her no peace and singing in a very sorrowful tone: She wanted to drive away the innocent little creatures, but as was shooing them away and chasing after them, the heavy storeroom door fell shut and cut off the wicked mother's head. The father arrived at home, and inside everything was quiet and still. Only the birds were singing: The father went upstairs into the storeroom, and opening the door he found his wicked wife and his poor little son, both lying dead on the floor. And the story is done, So you must go home! Or should I tell you another About peas and fodder? Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Buchhandlung, 1852), no. 12, pp. 64-68.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
720,The Juniper Tree,Germany,"The Grimms' source for this tale, recorded in wonderfully simple, but poetic Low German, was the romantic painter Philipp Otto Runge (1777-1810). Runge's version was first published in 1808 in the journal Zeitung für Einsiedler, edited by Achim von Arnim. The Grimms, who knew other versions of the tale as well, included Runge's telling in the first edition (and -- with stylistic and dialect variations -- all succeeding editions) of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen. A somewhat different version of Runge's story was published by Johann Gustav Büsching under the title 'Von dem Mahandel Bohm' in his Volks-Sagen, Märchen und Legenden (Leipzig: Carl Heinrich Reclam, 1812), no. 57, pp. 245-58. Büsching 's work appeared before the Grimm's collection, which was published later the same year.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Von dem Machandelboom, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 47.","Long ago, at least two thousand years, there was a rich man who had a beautiful and pious wife, and they loved each other dearly. However, they had no children, though they wished very much to have some, and the woman prayed for them day and night, but they didn't get any, and they didn't get any. In front of their house there was a courtyard where there stood a juniper tree. One day in winter the woman was standing beneath it, peeling herself an apple, and while she was thus peeling the apple, she cut her finger, and the blood fell into the snow. 'Oh,' said the woman. She sighed heavily, looked at the blood before her, and was most unhappy. 'If only I had a child as red as blood and as white as snow.' And as she said that, she became quite contented, and felt sure that it was going to happen. Then she went into the house, and a month went by, and the snow was gone. And two months, and everything was green. And three months, and all the flowers came out of the earth. And four months, and all the trees in the woods grew thicker, and the green branches were all entwined in one another, and the birds sang until the woods resounded and the blossoms fell from the trees. Then the fifth month passed, and she stood beneath the juniper tree, which smelled so sweet that her heart jumped for joy, and she fell on her knees and was beside herself. And when the sixth month was over, the fruit was thick and large, and then she was quite still. And after the seventh month she picked the juniper berries and ate them greedily. Then she grew sick and sorrowful. Then the eighth month passed, and she called her husband to her, and cried, and said, 'If I die, then bury me beneath the juniper tree.' Then she was quite comforted and happy until the next month was over, and then she had a child as white as snow and as red as blood, and when she saw it, she was so happy that she died. Her husband buried her beneath the juniper tree, and he began to cry bitterly. After some time he was more at ease, and although he still cried, he could bear it. And some time later he took another wife. He had a daughter by the second wife, but the first wife's child was a little son, and he was as red as blood and as white as snow. When the woman looked at her daughter, she loved her very much, but then she looked at the little boy, and it pierced her heart, for she thought that he would always stand in her way, and she was always thinking how she could get the entire inheritance for her daughter. And the Evil One filled her mind with this until she grew very angry with the little boy, and she pushed him from one corner to the other and slapped him here and cuffed him there, until the poor child was always afraid, for when he came home from school there was nowhere he could find any peace. One day the woman had gone upstairs to her room, when her little daughter came up too, and said, 'Mother, give me an apple.' 'Yes, my child,' said the woman, and gave her a beautiful apple out of the chest. The chest had a large heavy lid with a large sharp iron lock. 'Mother,' said the little daughter, 'is brother not to have one too?' This made the woman angry, but she said, 'Yes, when he comes home from school.' When from the window she saw him coming, it was as though the Evil One came over her, and she grabbed the apple and took it away from her daughter, saying, 'You shall not have one before your brother.' She threw the apple into the chest, and shut it. Then the little boy came in the door, and the Evil One made her say to him kindly, 'My son, do you want an apple?' And she looked at him fiercely. 'Mother,' said the little boy, 'how angry you look. Yes, give me an apple.' Then it seemed to her as if she had to persuade him. 'Come with me,' she said, opening the lid of the chest. 'Take out an apple for yourself.' And while the little boy was leaning over, the Evil One prompted her, and crash! she slammed down the lid, and his head flew off, falling among the red apples. Then fear overcame her, and she thought, 'Maybe I can get out of this.' So she went upstairs to her room to her chest of drawers, and took a white scarf out of the top drawer, and set the head on the neck again, tying the scarf around it so that nothing could be seen. Then she set him on a chair in front of the door and put the apple in his hand. After this Marlene came into the kitchen to her mother, who was standing by the fire with a pot of hot water before her which she was stirring around and around. 'Mother,' said Marlene, 'brother is sitting at the door, and he looks totally white and has an apple in his hand. I asked him to give me the apple, but he did not answer me, and I was very frightened.' 'Go back to him,' said her mother, 'and if he will not answer you, then box his ears.' So Marlene went to him and said, 'Brother, give me the apple.' But he was silent, so she gave him one on the ear, and his head fell off. Marlene was terrified, and began crying and screaming, and ran to her mother, and said, 'Oh, mother, I have knocked my brother's head off,' and she cried and cried and could not be comforted. 'Marlene,' said the mother, 'what have you done? Be quiet and don't let anyone know about it. It cannot be helped now. We will cook him into stew.' Then the mother took the little boy and chopped him in pieces, put him into the pot, and cooked him into stew. But Marlene stood by crying and crying, and all her tears fell into the pot, and they did not need any salt. Then the father came home, and sat down at the table and said, 'Where is my son?' And the mother served up a large, large dish of stew, and Marlene cried and could not stop. Then the father said again, 'Where is my son?' 'Oh,' said the mother, 'he has gone across the country to his mother's great uncle. He will stay there awhile.' 'What is he doing there? He did not even say good-bye to me.' 'Oh, he wanted to go, and asked me if he could stay six weeks. He will be well taken care of there.' 'Oh,' said the man, 'I am unhappy. It isn't right. He should have said good-bye to me.' With that he began to eat, saying, 'Marlene, why are you crying? Your brother will certainly come back.' Then he said, 'Wife, this food is delicious. Give me some more.' And the more he ate the more he wanted, and he said, 'Give me some more. You two shall have none of it. It seems to me as if it were all mine.' And he ate and ate, throwing all the bones under the table, until he had finished it all. Marlene went to her chest of drawers, took her best silk scarf from the bottom drawer, and gathered all the bones from beneath the table and tied them up in her silk scarf, then carried them outside the door, crying tears of blood. She laid them down beneath the juniper tree on the green grass, and after she had put them there, she suddenly felt better and did not cry anymore. Then the juniper tree began to move. The branches moved apart, then moved together again, just as if someone were rejoicing and clapping his hands. At the same time a mist seemed to rise from the tree, and in the center of this mist it burned like a fire, and a beautiful bird flew out of the fire singing magnificently, and it flew high into the air, and when it was gone, the juniper tree was just as it had been before, and the cloth with the bones was no longer there. Marlene, however, was as happy and contented as if her brother were still alive. And she went merrily into the house, sat down at the table, and ate. Then the bird flew away and lit on a goldsmith's house, and began to sing: The goldsmith was sitting in his workshop making a golden chain, when he heard the bird sitting on his roof and singing. The song seemed very beautiful to him. He stood up, but as he crossed the threshold he lost one of his slippers. However, he went right up the middle of the street with only one slipper and one sock on. He had his leather apron on, and in one hand he had a golden chain and in the other his tongs. The sun was shining brightly on the street. He walked onward, then stood still and said to the bird, 'Bird,' he said, 'how beautifully you can sing. Sing that piece again for me.' 'No,' said the bird, 'I do not sing twice for nothing. Give me the golden chain, and then I will sing it again for you.' The goldsmith said, 'Here is the golden chain for you. Now sing that song again for me.' Then the bird came and took the golden chain in his right claw, and went and sat in front of the goldsmith, and sang: Then the bird flew away to a shoemaker, and lit on his roof and sang: Hearing this, the shoemaker ran out of doors in his shirtsleeves, and looked up at his roof, and had to hold his hand in front of his eyes to keep the sun from blinding him. 'Bird,' said he, 'how beautifully you can sing.' Then he called in at his door, 'Wife, come outside. There is a bird here. Look at this bird. He certainly can sing.' Then he called his daughter and her children, and the journeyman, and the apprentice, and the maid, and they all came out into the street and looked at the bird and saw how beautiful he was, and what fine red and green feathers he had, and how his neck was like pure gold, and how his eyes shone like stars in his head. 'Bird,' said the shoemaker, 'now sing that song again for me.' 'No,' said the bird, 'I do not sing twice for nothing. You must give me something.' 'Wife,' said the man, 'go into the shop. There is a pair of red shoes on the top shelf. Bring them down.' Then the wife went and brought the shoes. 'There, bird,' said the man, 'now sing that piece again for me.' Then the bird came and took the shoes in his left claw, and flew back to the roof, and sang: When he had finished his song he flew away. In his right claw he had the chain and in his left one the shoes. He flew far away to a mill, and the mill went clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clack. In the mill sat twenty miller's apprentices cutting a stone, and chiseling chip-chop, chip-chop, chip-chop. And the mill went clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clack. Then the bird went and sat on a linden tree which stood in front of the mill, and sang: Then one of them stopped working. Then two more stopped working and listened, Then four more stopped, Now only eight only were chiseling, Now only five, Now only one, Then the last one stopped also, and heard the last words. 'Bird,' said he, 'how beautifully you sing. Let me hear that too. Sing it once more for me.' 'No,' said the bird, 'I do not sing twice for nothing. Give me the millstone, and then I will sing it again.' 'Yes,' he said, 'if it belonged only to me, you should have it.' 'Yes,' said the others, 'if he sings again he can have it.' Then the bird came down, and the twenty millers took a beam and lifted the stone up. Yo-heave-ho! Yo-heave-ho! Yo-heave-ho! The bird stuck his neck through the hole and put the stone on as if it were a collar, then flew to the tree again, and sang: When he was finished singing, he spread his wings, and in his right claw he had the chain, and in his left one the shoes, and around his neck the millstone. He flew far away to his father's house. In the room the father, the mother, and Marlene were sitting at the table. The father said, 'I feel so contented. I am so happy.' 'Not I,' said the mother, 'I feel uneasy, just as if a bad storm were coming.' But Marlene just sat and cried and cried. Then the bird flew up, and as it seated itself on the roof, the father said, 'Oh, I feel so truly happy, and the sun is shining so beautifully outside. I feel as if I were about to see some old acquaintance again.' 'Not I,' said the woman, 'I am so afraid that my teeth are chattering, and I feel like I have fire in my veins.' And she tore open her bodice even more. Marlene sat in a corner crying. She held a handkerchief before her eyes and cried until it was wet clear through. Then the bird seated itself on the juniper tree, and sang: The mother stopped her ears and shut her eyes, not wanting to see or hear, but there was a roaring in her ears like the fiercest storm, and her eyes burned and flashed like lightning. 'Oh, mother,' said the man, 'that is a beautiful bird. He is singing so splendidly, and the sun is shining so warmly, and it smells like pure cinnamon.' Then Marlene laid her head on her knees and cried and cried, but the man said, 'I am going out. I must see the bird up close.' 'Oh, don't go,' said the woman, 'I feel as if the whole house were shaking and on fire.' But the man went out and looked at the bird. With this the bird dropped the golden chain, and it fell right around the man's neck, so exactly around it that it fit beautifully. Then the man went in and said, 'Just look what a beautiful bird that is, and what a beautiful golden chain he has given me, and how nice it looks.' But the woman was terrified. She fell down on the floor in the room, and her cap fell off her head. Then the bird sang once more: 'I wish I were a thousand fathoms beneath the earth, so I would not have to hear that!' Then the woman fell down as if she were dead. 'Oh,' said Marlene, 'I too will go out and see if the bird will give me something.' Then she went out. He threw the shoes down to her. Then she was contented and happy. She put on the new red shoes and danced and leaped into the house. 'Oh,' she said, 'I was so sad when I went out and now I am so contented. That is a splendid bird, he has given me a pair of red shoes.' 'No,' said the woman, jumping to her feet and with her hair standing up like flames of fire, 'I feel as if the world were coming to an end. I too, will go out and see if it makes me feel better.' And as she went out the door, crash! the bird threw the millstone on her head, and it crushed her to death. The father and Marlene heard it and went out. Smoke, flames, and fire were rising from the place, and when that was over, the little brother was standing there, and he took his father and Marlene by the hand, and all three were very happy, and they went into the house, sat down at the table, and ate.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
720,The Little Boy and the Wicked Stepmother,Romania,"This story merges a tale of type 327A (Hansel and Gretel) with a tale of type 720 (My Mother Killed Me, My Father Ate Me). Link to additional tales of type 327A: Hansel and Gretel and Other Tales about Abandoned Children. D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.","'Why Does the Cuckoo Call 'Cuckoo'? The Story of the Little Boy and the Wicked Step-Mother,' M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 74, pp. 225-27.","Once upon a time there was a poor man, who had a wife and two children, a boy and a girl. He was so poor that he possessed nothing in the world but ashes on his hearth. His wife died, and after a time he married another woman, who was cantankerous and bad natured, and from morning till evening, as long as the day lasted, she gave the poor man no peace, but snarled and shouted at him. The woman said to him, 'Do away with these children. You cannot even me. How then can you keep all these mouths?' for was she not a stepmother? The poor man stood her nagging for a long time, but then, one night, quarreled so much that he promised her that he would take the children into the forest and leave them there. The two children were sitting in the corner but held their peace and heard all that was going on. The next day, the man, taking his ax upon his shoulder, called to the children and said to them, 'Come with me into the forest. I am going to cut wood.' The little children went with him, but before they left, the little girl filled her pocket with ashes from the hearth, and as she walked along she dropped little bits of coal the way they went. After a time they reached a very dense part of the forest, where they not see their way any longer, and there the man said to the children, 'Wait here for a while. I am only going to cut wood yonder. When I have done I will come back and fetch you home.' And leaving the children there in the thicket, he went away, heavy hearted, and returned home. The children waited for a while, and seeing that their father did not return, the girl knew what he had done. So they slept through the night in forest, and the next morning, taking her brother by the hand, she followed trace of the ashes which she had left on the road, and thus came home to their own house. When the stepmother saw them, she did not know what to do with herself. She went almost out of her mind with fury. If she could, she would have swallowed them in a spoonful of water, so furious was she. The husband, who was a weakling, tried to pacify her, and to endeavor to get the children away by one means or another, but did not succeed. When the stepmother found that she could not do anything through her husband, she made up her mind that she herself would get rid of them. So morning, when her husband had gone away, she took the little boy, and without saying anything to anybody, she killed him and gave him to his sister to him up, and prepare a meal for all of them. What was she to do? If she was to be killed like her brother, she had to do what her stepmother told And so she cut him up and cooked him ready for the meal But she took heart, and hid it away in a hollow of a tree. When the stepmother asked where the heart was, she said that a dog had come and taken it away. In the evening, when the husband came home, she brought the broth with meat for the husband to eat, and she sat down and ate of it, and so did husband, not knowing that he was eating the flesh of his child. The little refused to eat it. She would not touch it. After they had finished, she gathered up all the little bones and hid them in the hollow of the tree she had put the heart. The next morning, out of that hollow of the tree there came a little bird with dark feathers, and sitting on the branch of a tree, began to sing, 'Cuckoo! My sister has cooked me, and my father has eaten me, but I am now cuckoo and safe from my stepmother.' When the stepmother, who happened to be near the tree, heard what that little bird was singing, in her fury and fright she took a heavy lump of salt which lay near at hand, and threw it at the cuckoo. But instead of hitting it, the lump fell down on her head and killed her on the spot. And the little boy has remained a cuckoo to this very day. Boy and the Wicked Step-Mother,' M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 74, pp. 225-27. of type 720 (My Mother Killed Me, My Father Ate Me). Abandoned Children. Return to",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
720,The Milk-White Doo [Dove],Scotland,NA,"Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers, 1870), pp. 49-50.","There was once a man that worked in the fields, and had a wife, and a son, and a daughter. One day he caught a hare, and took it home to his wife, asked her to make it ready for his dinner. While it was on the fire the goodwife tasted and tasted at it, till she had tasted it all away, and she did not know what to do for her goodman's dinner. So she called her son Johnny to come in and get his head combed, and she was combing his head, she killed him and put him into the pot. Well, the goodman came home to his dinner, and his wife set down Johnny, well boiled, in front of him. And when he was eating, he took up a foot said, 'That's surely my Johnny's foot.' 'Such nonsense! It's one of the hare's,' said the goodwife. Then he took up a hand and said, 'That's surely my Johnny's hand.' 'You're talking foolishness, goodman. It's another of the hare's feet. So when the goodman had eaten his dinner, little Katy, Johnny's sister, gather all the bones and buried them beneath a stone just outside the door: Where they grew, and they grew, To a milk-white doo [dove], That took its wings, And away it flew. And it flew till it came to where two women were washing clothes, and it sat down on a stone and cried: Pew, pew, My minny me slew, My daddy me chew, My sister gathered by banes, And put them between twa milk-white stanes; And I grew, and I grew, To a milk-white doo, And I took to my wings, and away I flew. 'Say that over again, my bonny bird, and we'll give you all these clothes,' said the women. And it got the clothes; and then flew till it came to a man counting a great heap of silver, and it sat down and cried: Say that again, my bonny bird, and I'll give you all this silver,' said the man. And it got all the silver, and then it flew till it came to two millers grinding corn, and it cried: Say that again, my bonny bird, and I'll give you this millstone, the miller. And it got the millstone. And then it flew till it lit on its father's housetop. It threw small stones down the chimney, and Katy came out to see what was the matter, and the dove threw all the clothes to her. Then father came out, and the dove threw all the silver to him. And then the came out, and the dove threw down the millstone upon her and killed her. And at last it flew away, and the goodman and his daughter after that, Lived happy, and died happy, And never drank out of a dry cappy. Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers, 1870), pp. 49-50. Dialect cautiously normalized by D. L. Ashliman. I have left the dialect",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
720,The Rose Tree,England (Devonshire),Language and punctuation cautiously modernized by D. L. Ashliman.,"S. Baring-Gould, 'Household Tales,' an appendix to William Henderson, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London: Longmans, Green and Company, 1866), no. 1, pp. 314-17.","There was upon a time a good man who had two children: a girl by a first wife, and a boy by the second. The girl was as white as milk, and her lips like cherries. Her hair was like golden silk, and it hung to the ground. Her brother loved her dearly, but her wicked stepmother hated her. 'Child,' said the stepmother one day, 'go to the grocer's shop and buy me a pound of candles.' She gave her the money, and the little girl went, bought the candles, started on her return. There was a stile to cross. She put down the candles while she got over the stile. Up came a dog and ran off with the candles. She went back to the grocer's, and she got a second bunch. She came to stile, set down the candles, and proceeded to climb over. Up came the dog ran off with the candles. She went again to the grocer's, and she got a third bunch, and just the same event happened. Then she came to her stepmother crying, for she had spent the money and had lost three bunches of candles. The stepmother was angry, but she pretended not to mind the loss. She said to the child, 'Come, lay your head on my lap that I may comb your hair.' So the little one laid her head in the woman's lap, who proceeded to comb the yellow silken hair. And when she combed, the hair fell over her knees rolled right down to the ground. Then the stepmother hated her more for the beauty of her hair, so she to her, 'I cannot part your hair on my knee. Fetch a billet of wood.' So she fetched it. Then said the stepmother, 'I cannot part your hair with a comb. Fetch me an ax.' 'Now,' said the wicked woman, 'Lay your head down on the billet while I part your hair.' Well! She laid down her little golden head without fear; and whist! down came the ax, and it was off. So the mother wiped the ax and laughed. Then she took the heart and liver of the little girl, and she stewed and brought them into the house for supper. The husband tasted them and shook his head. He said they tasted very strangely. She gave some to the little boy, but he would not eat. She tried to force him, but he refused, and ran out the garden, and took up his little sister, and put her in a box, and buried the box under a rose tree; and every day he went to the tree and wept, till tears ran down on the box. One day the rose tree flowered. It was spring, and there among the was a white bird; and it sang, and sang, and sang like an angel out of heaven. Away it flew, and it went to a cobbler's shop, and perched itself on a tree hard by; and thus it sang: My wicked mother slew me, My dear father ate me, My little brother whom I love Sits below, and I sing above Stick, stock, stone dead. 'Sing again that beautiful song,' asked the shoemaker. 'If you will first give me those little red shoes you are making.' The cobbler gave the shoes, and the bird sang the song, then flew to a in front of a watchmaker's and sang: 'Oh, the beautiful song! Sing it again, sweet bird,' asked the watchmaker. 'If you will give me first that gold watch and chain in your hand.' The jeweler gave the watch and chain. The bird took it in one foot, the shoes in the other, and flew away, after having repeated the song, to where three millers were picking a millstone. The bird perched on a tree and Stick! Then one of the men put down his tool and looked up from his work, Stock! Then the second miller's man laid aside his tool and looked up, Stone! Then the third miller's man laid down his tool and looked Dead! Then all three cried out with one voice, 'Oh, what a beautiful song! Sing it sweet bird, again.' 'If you will put the millstone round my neck,' said the bird. The men complied with the bird's request, and away to the tree it flew the millstone round his neck, the red shoes in the grasp of one foot, and gold watch and chain in the grasp of the other. He sang the song and then flew home. It rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house, and the stepmother said, 'It thunders.' Then the little boy ran out to see the thunder, and down dropped the red shoes at his feet. It rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house once more, and stepmother said again, 'It thunders.' Then the father ran out, and down fell the chain about his neck. In ran father and son, laughing and saying, 'See, the thunder has brought us these fine things!' Then the bird rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house a third time, and the stepmother said, 'It thunders again. Perhaps the thunder has brought something for me,' and she ran out. But the moment she stepped outside the door, down fell the millstone on her head. And so she died. Henderson, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London: Longmans, Green and Company, 1866), no.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
720,The Satin Frock,England (Yorkshire),"Addy's source: 'Told to C. R. Hirst in Shieffield by a girl aged about 13, and repeated by him to me, June 1896.'","S. O. Addy, 'Four Yorkshire Folktales,' Folklore, vol. 8, no. 4 (December 1897), pp. 393-96. 394-95.","There was once a little girl called Mary who had a satin frock, and her mother told her that if she got a dirty mark on it she would kill her. One day as Mary was going a walk, some cows that were passing by splashed her frock with mud. Then Mary went and sat on a doorstep and began to cry. The woman in the house hearing her cry came out, and Mary told her that she dare not go home because she had got her frock dirty, and that her mother had threatened to kill her if she got it dirty. So the woman took her in and washed the mud from her frock, and then dried it. She then sent the little girl on her way, telling her to mind and not get it dirty again, and then her mother would not kill her. So Mary went on her way, but lower down the road a horse that was running by splashed her frock again. When she got home her mother took her in the cellar and cut her head off, and hung it on the wall. When her father came home he said, 'Where is our Mary?' Her mother told him she had gone to her grandmother's to stay all night. When bedtime came he said, 'I will fetch the sticks up;' but his wife said, 'No, I will;' but he said, 'No, I will fetch them up;' and she said, 'No, I will;' but he would not let her fetch them. When he had got down in the cellar he saw the head hung up, so when he had come out of the cellar he asked his wife what it was. She told him that it was a sheep's head that she was going to make some broth of for tomorrow's dinner. When he came home to dinner next day, he said, 'This broth is nice, but it does taste like our Mary.' When his wife heard this she was very frightened; but when her husband found out what had been done he took her in the cellar and killed her. Folklore, vol. 8, no. 4 (December 1897), pp. 393-96. 394-95. 13, and repeated by him to me, June 1896.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1592,Miracle upon Miracle,India,"I have used the following edition: Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen. Aus dem Sanskrit übersetzt mit Einleitung und Anmerkungen von Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), vol. 2, pp. 120-22. Translated from the German by D. L. Ashliman. Link to additional tales from The Panchatantra.","The Panchatantra, book 1, story 21.","In a certain place there once lived a merchant by the name of Nanduka, which means 'cheerful one' and a merchant by the name of Lakschmana, which means 'fortunate one.' The latter, who had lost all his wealth, decided to travel abroad. For it is said: A person who has lived well in a particular place, but who stays there after he has lost his wealth, is of common mind. And further: A person who, reduced to misery, remains at a place where he once was happy, is worthy of reproach. In his house there was a large set of heavy iron scales that had been acquired by his ancestors. He gave these to the guild-master Nanduka for safekeeping, and set forth for foreign lands. After he had pursued his desires for a long time abroad, he returned to his homeland, and said to the guild-master Nanduka, 'Guild-master, give me back the scales that I left here for safekeeping.' Nanduka replied, 'Oh, your scales are no longer here. The mice ate them up.' When he heard this, Lakschmana said, 'Well, Nanduka, if the mice ate them up, then it is through no fault of yours. That is the way of the world. Nothing in it is eternal. But now I would like to bathe myself in the river. Send your child with me, the boy named Dhanadeva, to carry my bathing things.' Nanduka, fearing Lakschama because of the theft he had committed against him, said to his son, 'Child, your uncle Lakschmana wants to take a bath in the river. Go with him and carry his bathing things.' Yes, with truth they say: No one does a favor for another, unless driven by fear, greed, or some other purpose. And further: If someone shows you unusual courtesy, be cautious, lest it lead to a bad end. Nanduka's son, carrying the bathing things, set forth happily with Lakschmana. After taking his bath, Lakschmana threw Nanduka's son Dhanadeva into a cave on the bank of the river, and sealed the opening with a large stone. Then he rushed back to Nanduka's house. The merchant asked him, 'Speak up, Lakschmana! Tell me, where is my child who went to the river with you?' Lakschmana said, 'He was taken away from the river's bank by a falcon.' The merchant cried, 'You liar! How in the world can a falcon steal a boy? Give me back my son, or I will bring action against you at the king's court.' Lakschmana said, 'Oh, you who always speak the truth! A falcon can carry away a boy, if mice can eat a large set of heavy iron scales. If you want your son back, then give me my scales!' Thus quarreling one with another, they went to the king's gate, where Nanduka cried out loudly, 'A dastardly crime has happened here! This thief has robbed me of my child!' Hearing this, the judges said to Lakschmana, 'Return the guild-master's son to him!' Lakschmana answered, 'What can I do? Before my very eyes a falcon carried him away from the bank of the river.' Hearing this, they said, 'You do not tell the truth. How could a falcon be capable of carrying off a fifteen-year-old boy?' Lakschmana answered, laughing, 'Ha! Listen to this proverb: When mice can eat a thousand pounds of iron, then a falcon can carry away an elephant, to say nothing of a little boy.' The judges said, 'What do you mean by that?' Then Lakschmana told the whole story about the scales. After hearing this, they laughed at what Nanduka and Lakschmana had done, reconciled the two with each other, and made them respectively return the scales and the boy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1592,The Faithless Depositary,Jean de La Fontaine,Link to the original French text: Le dépositaire infidèle.,"Jean de La Fontaine, The Fables of La Fontaine. Translated from the French by Elizur Wright. A new edition with notes by J. W. M. Gibbs (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 9, fable 1, pp. 220-23.","The story goes: A man of trade, In Persia, with his neighbor made Deposit, as he left the state, Of iron, say a hundredweight. Return'd, said he, 'My iron, neighbor.' 'Your iron! you have lost your labor; I grieve to say it, -- 'pon my soul, A rat has eaten up the whole. My men were sharply scolded at, But yet a hole, in spite of that, Was left, as one is wont to be In every barn or granary, By which crept in that cursed rat.' Admiring much the novel thief, The man affected full belief. Ere long, his faithless neighbor's child He stole away, -- a heavy lad, -- And then to supper bade the dad, Who thus plead off in accents sad: 'It was but yesterday I had A boy as fine as ever smiled, An only son, as dear as life, The darling of myself and wife. Alas! we have him now no more, And every joy with us is o'er.' Replied the merchant, 'Yesternight, By evening's faint and dusky ray, I saw a monstrous owl alight, And bear your darling son away To yonder tott'ring ruin gray.' 'Can I believe you, when you say An owl bore off so large a prey? How could it be?' the father cried; 'The thing is surely quite absurd; My son with ease had kill'd the bird.' 'The how of it,' the man replied, 'Is not my province to decide; I know I saw your son arise, Borne through the air before my eyes. Why should it seem a strange affair, Moreover, in a country where A single rat contrives to eat A hundred pounds of iron meat, That owls should be of strength to lift ye A booby boy that weighs but fifty?' The other plainly saw the trick, Restored the iron very quick, And got, with shame as well as joy, Possession of his kidnapp'd boy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1592,The Iron Weights and Scales Which Were Eaten by Mice,India,NA,"The Enchanted Parrot: Being a Selection from the 'Suka Saptati,' or, The Seventy Tales of Parrot. Translated from the Sanskrit by B. Hale Wortham (London: Luzac and Company, 1911), no. 39, pp. 84-86.","As it has been said 'A rich man is wise; a rich man is generous; a rich man is the incarnation of virtue; a rich man is thought much of, and has no end of friends. But if his money go, everything else goes with it.' So this Bhudhara having lost everything that he possessed except some weights and scales, went away to another country, leaving the relics of this property in the care of a friend, who was also a merchant. After a time he made another fortune and returned to his own country. The first thing he did was to go to his friend and ask for the weights and scales. The merchant did not want to give them up, and after some demur he said: 'Really I am very sorry, but they have been eaten by the mice.' Bhudhara said nothing but bided his time, and one day soon after this he was walking by the merchant's house, and saw his boy playing outside. Bhudhara promptly kidnapped the boy. The merchant was in a terrible state at the loss of his son, and started off with his whole family to try and find him. One of the neighbors met the party, who were full of weeping and lamentations, and said (hearing the cause of all this grief): 'Oh! I know where the boy is; I saw him with Bhudhara.' So they went to Bhudhara's house, and the father asked Bhudhara to give him up his son. 'My dear friend,' replied Bhudhara, 'I am really very sorry, but I cannot! Your boy was with me, we were walking along the bank of the river, when an eagle came and carried him off.' On this the father grew very angry and had Bhudhara up before the magistrates, on the charge of having made away with his son. Bhudhara appeared to answer the charge, and when the judge asked him what he had to say, he replied: 'My lord! in a place where the mice can eat up weights and scales of iron, an eagle might easily carry off an elephant -- much more a boy.' The magistrate who heard the case decided that when the merchant returned the weights and scales his boy should be restored to him, and so the end of it was that Bhudhara got back his weights and scales, and the merchant, though he recovered his boy, was punished for the theft.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1592,The Mice That Ate an Iron Balance,India,NA,"Somadeva Bhatta, The Kátha Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story, vol. 2. Translated from the original Sanskrit by C. H. Tawney (Calcutta: Printed by J. W. Thomas at the Baptist Mission Press, 1884), pp. 41-42.","And when, on his return, he came to that merchant to demand back his balance, the merchant said to him, 'It has been eaten by mice.' He repeated, 'It is quite true, the iron, of which it was composed, was particularly sweet, and so the mice ate it.' This he said with an outward show of sorrow, laughing in his heart. Then the merchant's son asked him to give him some food, and he, being in a good temper, consented to give him some. Then the merchant's son went to bathe, taking with him the son of that merchant, who was a mere child, and whom he persuaded to come with him by giving him a dish of ámalakas. And after he had bathed, the wise merchant's son deposited the boy in the house of a friend, and returned alone to the house of that merchant. And the merchant said to him, 'Where is that son of mine?' He replied, 'A kite swooped down from the air and carried him off.' The merchant in a rage said, 'You have concealed my son,' and so he took him into the king's judgment hall; and there the merchant's son made the same statement. The officers of the court said, ' This is impossible, how could a kite carry off a boy?' But the merchant's son answered, ' In a country where a large balance of iron was eaten by mice, a kite might carry off an elephant, much more a boy.' When the officers heard that, they asked about it, out of curiosity, and made the merchant restore the balance to the owner, and he, for his part, restored the merchant's child.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1592,The Two Merchants,"Russia, Leo Tolstoy","This piece is from Tolstoy's First Reader, 1872.","Léon Tolstoï [Leo Tolstoy], 'Les deux marchands: Fable,' Contes et fables. Traduit avec l'autorisation de l'auteur par E. Halpérine-Kaminsky (Paris: E. Plon, Nourrit et Cie., 1883), pp. 66-68.","Before leaving on a journey a poor merchant left his ironware with a rich merchant for safekeeping. Upon returning he came to the rich merchant and asked for the return of his goods. However, the rich merchant had sold everything, and to defend himself he said, 'Something unfortunate happened to your goods.' 'What?' 'I stored your ironware in my granary where there are a lot of mice, and they gnawed it all to pieces. If you don't believe me, come and see for yourself.' The poor merchant did nothing. 'Why bother?' he said. 'I believe it. Mice are always eating iron. Good-bye.' The poor merchant went away. On the street he saw a little boy playing; it was the rich merchant's son. Caressing him, he took the boy by the hand he and took him home with him. The next day the rich merchant met and told him about his misfortune, asking him if he knew anything about his missing son. The poor man responded, 'Yes, I saw him yesterday just as I was leaving your house. A hawk flew down and carried your son away.' 'Don't make fun of me!' cried the rich merchant with anger. 'No one can believe that a hawk could carry off a child.' 'I am not making fun of you. It should surprise no one that a hawk could carry off a child. If mice can eat a hundred pounds of iron anything is possible.' The rich merchant understood what he meant. 'The mice did not eat your iron,' he said. 'I sold it, and I shall reimburse you double its value.' 'If that's the way it is, the hawk did not carry off your son. I shall return him to you.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
112,The Story of the Town Mouse and the Field Mouse,Romania,NA,"M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 105, pp. 311-12.","A mouse living in the town one day met a mouse which lived in the field. 'Where do you come from?' asked the latter when she saw the town mouse. 'I come from yonder town,' replied the first mouse. 'How is life going there with you?' 'Very well, indeed. I am living in the lap of luxury. Whatever I want of sweets or any other good things is to be found in abundance in my master's house. But how are you living?' 'I have nothing to complain of. You just come and see my stores. I have grain and nuts, and all the fruits of the tree and field in my storehouse.' The town mouse did not quite believe the story of her new friend, and, driven by curiosity, went with her to the latter's house. How great was her surprise when she found that the field mouse had spoken the truth; her garner was full of nuts and grain and other stores, and her mouth watered when she saw all the riches which were stored up there. Then she turned to the field mouse and said, 'Oh, yes, you have here a nice snug place and something to live upon, but you should come to my house and see what I have there. Your stock is as nothing compared with the riches which are mine.' The field mouse, who was rather simple by nature and trusted her new friend, went with her into the town to see what better things the other could have. She had never been into the town and did not know what her friend could mean when she boasted of her greater riches. So they went together, and the town mouse took her friend to her master's house. He was a grocer, and there were boxes and sacks full of every good thing the heart of a mouse could desire. When she saw all these riches, the field mouse said she could never have believed it, had she not seen it with her own eyes. While they were talking together, who should come in but the cat. As soon as the town mouse saw the cat, she slipped quietly behind a box and hid herself. Her friend, who had never yet seen a cat, turned to her and asked her who that gentleman was who had come in so quietly. 'Do you not know who he is? Why, he is our priest, and he has come to see me. You must go and pay your respects to him and kiss his hand. See what a beautiful glossy coat he has on, and how his eyes sparkle, and how demurely he keeps his hands in the sleeves of his coat.' Not suspecting anything, the field mouse did as she was told and went up to the cat. He gave her at once his blessing, and the mouse had no need of another after that. The cat gave her extreme unction there and then. That was just what the town mouse had intended. When she saw how well stored the home of the field mouse was, she made up her mind to trap her and to kill her, so that she might take possession of all that the field mouse had gathered up. She had learned the ways of the townspeople and had acted up to them. Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 105, pp. 311-12.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
112,The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse (Aesop),Aesop,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Aesop (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), no. 7, pp. 15-17.","Now you must know that a town mouse once upon a time went on a visit to his cousin in the country. He was rough and ready, this cousin, but he loved his town friend and made him heartily welcome. Beans and bacon, cheese and bread, were all he had to offer, but he offered them freely. The town mouse rather turned up his long nose at this country fare, and said, 'I cannot understand, cousin, how you can put up with such poor food as this, but of course you cannot expect anything better in the country; come you with me and I will show you how to live. When you have been in town a week you will wonder how you could ever have stood a country life.' No sooner said than done: The two mice set off for the town and arrived at the town mouse's residence late at night. 'You will want some refreshment after our long journey,' said the polite town mouse, and took his friend into the grand dining room. There they found the remains of a fine feast, and soon the two mice were eating up jellies and cakes and all that was nice. Suddenly they heard growling and barking. 'What is that?' said the country mouse. 'It is only the dogs of the house,' answered the other. 'Only,' said the country mouse, 'I do not like that music at my dinner!' Just at that moment the door flew open; in came two huge mastiffs; and the two mice had to scamper down and run off. 'Good-bye, cousin,' said the country mouse. 'What! Going so soon?' said the other. 'Yes,' he replied. 'Better beans and bacon in peace than cakes and ale in fear.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
112,The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse (Horace),Horace,"Link to this fable in the original Latin (lines 79-117): Quintus Horatius Flaccus, Sermones, Liber II, Sermo VI.","The Satires, Epistles, and Art of Poetry of Horace, translated into English verse by John Conington; 4th edition (London: George Bell and Sons, 1874), Satires, book 2, no. 6, pp. 84-86.","He spares not oats or vetches: in his chaps Raisins he brings and nibbled bacon-scraps, Hoping by varied dainties to entice His town-bred guest, so delicate and nice, Who condescended graciously to touch Thing after thing, but never would take much, While he, the owner of the mansion, sate On threshed-out straw, and spelt and darnels ate. At length the townsman cries: 'I wonder how You can live here, friend, on this hill's rough brow: Take my advice, and leave these ups and downs, This hill and dale, for humankind and towns. Come now, go home with me: remember, all Who live on earth are mortal, great and small: Then take, good sir, your pleasure while you may; With life so short, 'twere wrong to lose a day.' This reasoning made the rustic's head turn round; Forth from his hole he issues with a bound, And they two make together for their mark, In hopes to reach the city during dark. The midnight sky was bending over all, When they set foot within a stately hall, Where couches of wrought ivory had been spread With gorgeous coverlets of Tyrian red, And viands piled up high in baskets lay, The relics of a feast of yesterday. The townsman does the honours, lays his guest At ease upon a couch with crimson dressed, Then nimbly moves in character of host, And offers in succession boiled and roast; Nay, like a well-trained slave, each wish prevents, And tastes before the tit-bits he presents. The guest, rejoicing in his altered fare, Assumes in turn a genial diner's air, When hark! a sudden banging of the door: Each from his couch is tumbled on the floor: Half dead, they scurry round the room, poor things, While the whole house with barking mastiffs rings. Then says the rustic: 'It may do for you, This life, but I don't like it; so adieu: Give me my hole, secure from all alarms, I'll prove that tares and vetches still have charms.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
112,The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse (Norway),Norway,"Link to the tale in the original Norwegian: Hjemmusa og fjellmusa, Norske Folkeeventyr.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: David Nutt, 1897), pp. 116-21. Brækstad uses the familiar English title 'The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse' instead of the more accurate 'The House Mouse and the Highland Mouse.'","Once upon a time a town mouse met a country mouse on the outskirts of a wood. The country mouse was sitting under a hazel thicket plucking nuts. 'Busy harvesting, I see,' said the town mouse. 'Who would think of our meeting in this out-of-the-way part of the world?' 'Just so,' said the country mouse. 'You are gathering nuts for your winter store?' asked the town mouse? 'I am obliged to do so if we intend having anything to live upon during the winter,' said the country mouse. 'The husk is big and the nut full this year, enough to satisfy any hungry body,' said the town mouse. 'Yes, you are right there,' said the country mouse. And then she related how well she lived and how comfortable she was at home. the town mouse maintained that she was the better off, but the country mouse said that nowhere could one be so well off as in the woods and hills. The town mouse, however, declared she was best off. And as they could not agree on this point they promised to visit one another at Christmas, then they could see for themselves which was really the most comfortable. The first visit was to be paid by the town mouse. Now, although the country mouse had moved down form the mountains for the winter, the road was long and tiring, and one had to travel up hill and down dale. The snow lay thick and deep, so the town mouse found it hard work to get on, and she became both tired and hungry before she reached the end of her journey. 'How nice it will be to get some food,' she thought. The country mouse had scraped together the best she had. There were nut kernels, polypoly and other sorts of roots, and many other good things which grow in woods and fields. She kept it all in a hole far under the ground, so the frost could not reach it, and close by was a running spring, open all the winter, so she could drink as much water as she liked. There was an abundance of all she had, and they ate both well and heartily. But the town mouse thought it was very poor fare indeed. 'One can, of course, keep boy and soul together on this,' said she, 'but I don't think much of it. Now you must be good enough to visit me and taste what we have.' Yes, that she would, and before long she set out. The town mouse had gathered together all the scraps from the Christmas fare which the woman of the house had dropped on the floor during the holidays -- bits of cheese, butter and tallow ends, cake crumbs, pastry, and many other good things. In the dish under the ale tap she had drink enough. In fact, the place was full of all kinds of dainties. They ate and fared well. The country mouse seemed never to have had enough. She had never tasted such delicacies. But then she became thirsty, for she found the food both strong and rich, and now she wanted something to drink. 'We haven't far to go for the beer we shall drink,' said the town mouse, and jumped upon the edge of the dish and drank until she was no longer thirsty. She did not drink too much, for she knew the Christmas beer was strong. The country mouse, however, thought the beer a splendid drink. She had never tasted anything but water, so she took one sip after another, but as she could not stand strong drink she became tipsy before she left the dish. The drink got into her head and down into her toes, and she began running and jumping about from one beer barrel to the other, and to dance and tumble about on the shelves among the cups and mugs. She squeaked and screeched as if she were both drunk and mad. About her being drunk there was very little doubt. 'You must not carry on as if you had just come from the backwoods and make such a row and noise,' said the town mouse. 'The master of the house is a bailiff, and he is very strict indeed,' she added. The country mouse said she didn't care either for bailiffs or beggars. But the cat sat at the top of the cellar steps, lying in wait, and heard all the chatter and noise. When the woman of the house went down to draw some beer and lifted the trapdoor, the cat slipped by into the cellar and struck its claws into the county mouse. Then there was quite another sort of dance. The town mouse slid back into her hole and sat in safety looking on, while the country mouse suddenly became sober, when she felt the claws of the cat in her back. 'Oh, my dear bailiff, of dearest bailiff, be merciful and spare my life, and I will tell you a fairy tale,' she said. 'Well, go on,' said the cat. 'Once upon a time there were two little mice,' said the country mouse, squeaking slowly and pitifully, for she wanted to make the story last as long as she could. 'Then they were not lonely,' said the cat dryly and curtly. 'And they had a steak which they were going to fry.' 'Then they could not starve,' said the cat. 'And they put it out on the roof to cool,' said the country mouse. 'Then they did not burn themselves,' said the cat. 'But there came a fox and a crow and ate it all up,' said the country 'Then I'll eat you,' said the cat. But just at that moment the woman shut the trapdoor with a slam, which so startled the cat that she let ho her hold of the mouse. One bound and the country mouse found herself in the hole with the town mouse. From there a passage led out into the snow, and you may be sure the country mouse did not wait long before she set out homeward. 'And this is what you call living well and being best off,' she said to the town mouse. 'Heaven preserve me from having such a fine place and such a master! Why I only just got away with my life!' fjellmusa, Norske Folkeeventyr.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
112,The Town Rat and the Country Rat,Jean de La Fontaine,Link to this fable in the original French: Le rat de ville et le rat des champs.,"Jean de La Fontaine (1621-1695), Fables, book 1, fable 9. Translated by Walter Thornbury.","A rat from town, a country rat Invited in the civilest way; For dinner there was just to be Ortolans and an entrement. Upon a Turkey carpet soft The noble feast at last was spread; I leave you pretty well to guess The merry, pleasant life they led. Gay the repast, for plenty reigned, Nothing was wanting to the fare; But hardly had it well begun Ere chance disturbed the friendly pair. A sudden racket at the door Alarmed them, and they made retreat; The city rat was not the last, His comrade followed fast and fleet. The noise soon over, they returned, As rats on such occasions do; 'Come,' said the liberal citizen, 'And let us finish our ragout.' 'Not a crumb more,' the rustic said; 'Tomorrow you shall dine with me; Don't think me jealous of your state, Or all your royal luxury; But then I eat so quiet at home, And nothing dangerous is near; Good-bye, my friend, I have no love For pleasure when it's mixed with fear.' 9. Translated by Walter Thornbury.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Doubleturk,Germany,"Temme does not give this tale a title. It is part of a larger section entitled 'The Earth Spirits in Greifswald.' Temme's source: 'Oral.' Greifswald, a city in northeast Germany, lies near the mouth of the Ryck River, which empties into Greifswalder Bay on the Baltic Sea.","J. D. H. Temme, Die Erdgeister in Greifswald, Die Volkssagen von Pommern und Rügen (Berlin: In der Nikolaischen Buchhandlung, 1840), no. 216, pp. 255-256.","Once a prominent dwarf fell in love with a beautiful girl and wanted to force her to marry him. To be sure, the girl had a great aversion toward him because he was so small and not at all good looking, and she would not agree to marry him. However, he won over her father by offering him much money and land, so she finally had to accept his proposal. Nevertheless, he agreed to release her from her promise and to leave her alone if she could succeed in discovering his name. The girl searched a long time, but to no avail. However, in the end fate came to her aid. One night a fish dealer was traveling along the road to Greifswald. Coming to a place where he saw a large number of dwarfs joyfully dancing and jumping about in the moonlight, he stopped with amazement. Then he suddenly heard one of the dwarfs call out with joy, 'If my bride knew that my name is Doubleturk, she wouldn't take me!' The next day the fish dealer related this experience in a tavern in Greifswald. The bride heard about it from the tavern keeper's daughter. She immediately assumed that it had been her lover, and when he came to her, she called him Doubleturk. Then the dwarf disappeared in great anger, and that was the end of their courtship.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Duffy and the Devil,England (Cornwall),"A footnote by Hunt concerning the Fugoe Hole: There is a tradition, firmly believed on the lower side of the Burian, that the Fugoe Hole extends from the cliffs underground so far that the end of it is under the parlor of the Tremewen's house in Trove, which is the only remaining portion of the old mansion of the Lovels. Here the witches were in the habit of meeting the devil, and holding their Sabbath. Often his dark highness has been heard piping while the witches danced to his music. A pool of water some distance from the entrance prevents any adventurer from exploring the 'Hole' to its termination. Hares often take refuge in the Fugoe Hole, from which they have never been known to return.","Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall (London: John Camden Hotten, 1871), pp. 239-247.","Many of the superstitions of our ancestors are preserved in quaint, irregular rhymes, the recitation of which was the amusement of the people in the long nights of winter. These were sung, or rather said, in a monotone, by the professional drolls, who doubtless added such things as they fancied would increase the interest of the story to the listeners. Especially were they fond of introducing known characters on the scene, and of mixing up events which had occurred within the memory of the old people, with the more ancient legend. The following story, or rather parts of it, formed the subject of one of the Cornish Christmas plays. When I was a boy, I well remember being much delighted with the coarse acting of a set of Christmas players, who exhibited in the 'great hall' of a farmhouse at which I was visiting, and who gave us the principal incidents of Duffy and the Devil Terrytop; one of the company doing the part of Chorus, and filling up by rude descriptions -- often in rhyme -- the parts which the players could not represent. It was cider-making time. Squire Lovel of Trove, or more correctly, Trewoof, rode up to Burian Churchtown to procure help. Boys and maidens were in request, some to gather the apples from the trees, others to carry them to the cider mill. Passing along the village as hastily as the dignity of a squire would allow him, his attention was drawn to a great noise -- scolding in a shrill treble voice, and crying -- proceeding from Janey Chygwin's door. The squire rode up to the cottage, and he saw the old woman beating her stepdaughter Duffy about the head with the skirt of her swing-tail gown, in which she had been carrying out the ashes. She made such a dust, that the squire was nearly choked and almost blinded with the wood ashes. 'What cheer, Janey?' cries the squire. 'What's the to-do with you and Duffy?' 'Oh, the lazy hussy!' shouts Janey, 'is all her time courseying and courranting [running and chasing] with the boys! She will never stay in to boil the porridge, knit the stockings, or spin the yarn.' 'Don't believe her, your honor,' exclaims Duffy. 'My knitting and spinning is the best in the parish.' The war of tongues continued in this strain for some time, the old squire looking calmly on, and resolving in his mind to take Duffy home with him to Trove, her appearance evidently pleasing him greatly. Squire Lovel left the old and young woman to do the best they could, and went round the village to complete his hiring. When he returned, peace had been declared between them, but when Lovel expressed his desire to take Duffy home to his house to help the housekeeper to do the spinning, 'A pretty spinner she is!' shouted old Janey at the top of her voice. 'Try me, your honor,' said Duffy, curtsying very low. 'My yarns are the best in the parish.' 'We'll soon try that,' said the squire. 'Janey will be glad to get quits of thee, I see, and thou'lt be nothing loath to leave her. So jump up behind me, Duffy.' No sooner said than done. The maid Duffy, without ceremony, mounted behind the squire on the horse, and they jogged silently down to Trove. Squire Lovel's old housekeeper was almost blind -- one eye had been put out by an angry old wizard, and through sympathy she was rapidly losing the power of seeing with the other. This old dame was consequently very glad of someone to help her in spinning and knitting. The introduction over, the housekeeper takes Duffy up into the garret where the wool was kept, and where the spinning was done in the summer, and requests her to commence her work. The truth must be told. Duffy was an idle slut. She could neither knit nor spin. Well, here she was left along, and, of course, expected to produce a good specimen of her work. The garret was piled from the floor to the key-beams with fleeces of wool. Duffy looked despairingly at them, and then sat herself down on the 'turn' -- the spinning wheel -- and cried out, 'Curse the spinning and knitting! The devil may spin and knit for the squire for what I care.' Scarcely had Duffy spoken these words than she heard a rustling noise behind some wool-packs, and forth walked a queer-looking little man, with a remarkable pair of eyes, which seemed to send out flashes of light. There was something uncommonly knowing in the twist of his mouth, and his curved nose had an air of curious intelligence. He was dressed in black, and moved towards Duffy with a jaunty air, knocking something against the floor at every step he took. 'Duffy dear,' said this little gentleman, 'I'll do all the spinning and knitting for thee.' 'Thank 'e,' says Duffy, quite astonished. 'Duffy dear, a lady shall you be.' 'Thank 'e, your honor,' smiled Duffy. 'But, Duffy dear, remember,' coaxingly said the queer little man, 'remember, that for all this, at the end of three years, you must go with me, unless you can find out my name.' Duffy was not the least bit frightened, nor did she hesitate long, but presently struck a bargain with her kind but unknown friend, who told her she had only to wish, and her every wish should be fulfilled. And as for the spinning and knitting, she would find all she required under the black ram's fleece. He then departed. How, Duffy could not tell, but in a moment the queer little gentleman was gone. Duffy sung in idleness, and slept until it was time for her to make her appearance. So she wished for some yarns, and looking under the black fleece she found them. Those were shown by the housekeeper to the squire, and both declared they had never seen such beautiful yarns. The next day Duffy was to knit this yarn into stockings. Duffy idled, as only professed idlers can idle. But in due time, as if she had been excessively industrious, she produced a pair of stockings for the old squire. If the yarn was beautiful, the stocking were beyond all praise. They were as fine as silk, and as strong as leather. Squire Lovel soon gave them a trial; and when he came home at night after hunting, he declared he would never wear any other than Duffy's stocking. He had wandered all day through brake and briar, furze and brambles. There was not a scratch on his legs, and he was as dry as a bone. There was no end to his praise of Duffy's stockings. Duffy had a rare time of it now. She could do what she pleased and rove where she willed. She was dancing on the mill-bed half the day with all the gossiping women who brought their grist to be ground. In those 'good old times' the ladies of the parish would take their corn to mill, and serge the flour themselves. When a few of them met together, they would either tell stories or dance whilst the corn was grinding. Sometimes the dance would be on the mill-bed, sometimes out on the green. On some occasions the miller's fiddle would be in request, at others the 'crowd' [a sieve covered with sheepskin] was made to do the duty of a tambourine. So Duffy was always finding excuses to go to mill, and many 'a round' would she dance with the best people in the parish. Old Bet, the miller's wife, was a witch, and she found out who did Duffy's work for her. Duffy and old Bet were always the best of friends, and she never told anyone about Duffy's knitting friend, nor did she ever say a word about the stockings being unfinished. There was always a stitch down. On Sundays the people went to Burian Church from all parts to look at the squire's stockings. And the old squire would stop at the cross, proud enough to show them. He could hunt Through brambles and furze in all sorts of weather; His old shanks were as sound as if bound up in leather. Duffy was now sought after by all the young men of the country; and at last the squire, fearing to lose a pretty girl, and one who was so useful to him, married her himself, and she became, according to the fashion of the time and place, Lady Lovel. But she was commonly known by her neighbors as the Duffy Lady. Lady Lovel kept the devil hard at work. Stockings, all sorts of fine underclothing, bedding, and much ornamental work, the like of which was never seen, was produced at command and passed off as her own. Duffy passed a merry time of it, but somehow or other she was never happy when she was compelled to play the lady. She passed much more of her time with the old crone at the mill than in the drawing room at Trove. The squire sported and drank, and cared little about Duffy, so long as she provided him with knitted garments. The three years were nearly at an end. Duffy had tried every plan to find out the devil's name, but had failed in all. She began to fear that she should have to go off with her queer friend, and Duffy became melancholy. Old Bet endeavored to rouse her, persuading her that she could, from her long experience and many dealings with the imps of darkness, at the last moment put her in the way of escaping her doom. Duffy went day after day to her garret, and there each day was the devil gibing and jeering till she was almost mad. There was but another day. Bet was seriously consulted now, and -- as good as her word -- she promised to use her power. Duffy Lady was to bring down to the mill that very evening a jack [leather jug] of the strongest beer she had in the cellar. She was not to go to bed until the squire returned from hunting, no matter how late, and she was to make no remark in reply to anything the squire might tell her. The jack of beer was duly carried to the mill, and Duffy returned home very melancholy to wait up for the squire. No sooner had Lady Lovel left the mill than old Bet came out with the 'crowd' over her shoulders, and the blackjack [tar-coated leather jug] in her hand. She shut the door, and turned the water off the mill-wheel, threw her red cloak about her, and away. She was seen by her neighbors going towards Boleit. A man saw the old woman trudging past the Pipers, and through the Dawnse Main into the downs, but there he lost sight of her, and no one could tell where old Bet was gone to at that time of night. Duffy waited long and anxiously. By and by the dogs came home alone. They were covered with foam, their tongues were hanging out of their mouths, and all the servants said they must have met the devil's hounds without heads. Duffy was seriously alarmed. Midnight came but no squire. At last he arrived, but like a crazy, crack-brained man, he kept singing: Here's to the devil, With his wooden pick and shovel. He was neither drunk nor frightened, but wild with some strange excitement. After a long time Squire Lovel sat down, and began, 'My dear Duffy, you haven't smiled this long time. But now I'll tell 'e something that would make ye laugh if ye're dying. If you'd seen what I've seen tonight, ha, ha, ha! With his wooden pick and shovel.' True to her orders, Duffy said not a word, but allowed the squire to ramble on as he pleased. At length he told her the following story of his adventures, with interruptions which have not been retained, and with numerous coarse expressions which are best forgotten: The squire's story of the meeting of the witches in the Fugoe Hole: Duffy dear, I left home at break of day this morning. I hunted all the moors from Trove to Trevider, and never started a hare all the livelong day. I determined to hunt all night, but that I'd have a brace to bring home. So, at nightfall I went down Lemorna Bottoms, then up Brene Downses, and as we passed the Dawnse Main up started a hare, as fine a hare as ever was seen. She passed the Pipers, down through the Reens, in the mouth of the dogs half the time, yet they couldn't catch her at all. As fine a chase as ever was seen, until she took into the Fugoe Hole. In went the dogs after her, and I followed, the owls and bats flying round my head. On we went, through water and mud, a mile or more, I'm quite certain. I didn't know the place was so long before. At last we came to a broad pool of water, when the dogs lost the scent and ran back past me howling and jowling, terrified almost to death! A little farther on I turned round a corner, and saw a glimmering fire on the other side the water, and there were St. Leven witches in scores. Some were riding on ragwort, some on brooms, some were floating on their three-legged stools, and some, who had been milking the little good cows in Wales, had come back astride of the largest leeks they could find. Amongst the rest there was our Bet of the mill, with her 'crowd' in her hand, and my own blackjack slung across her shoulders. In a short time the witches gathered round the fire, and blowed it up, after a strange fashion, till it burned up into a brilliant blue flame. Then I saw amongst the rest a queer little man in black, with a long forked tail, which he held high in the air, and twirled around. Bet struck her 'crowd' as soon as he appeared, and beat up the tune: With his wooden pick and shovel, Digging tin by the bushel, With his tail cock'd up! Then the queer little devil and all danced like the wind, and went faster and faster, making such a clatter, 'as if they had on each foot a pewter platter.' Every time the man in black came round by old Bet, he took a good pull from my own blackjack, till at last, as if he had been drinking my best beer, he seemed to have lost his head, when he jumped up and down, turned round and round, and roaring with laughter, sung: Duffy, my lady, you'll never know -- what? -- That my name is Terrytop, Terrytop -- top! When the squire sung those lines, he stopped suddenly, thinking that Duffy was going to die. She turned pale, and red, and pale again. However, Duffy said nothing, and the squire proceeded: After the dance, all the witches made a ring around the fire, and again blew it up, until the blue flames reached the top of the Zawn [a cavernous gorge]. Then the devil danced through and through the fire, and springing ever and anon amongst the witches, kicked them soundly. At last -- I was shaking with laughter at the fun -- I shouted, 'Go it, Old Nick!' and lo, the lights went out, and I had to fly with all my speed, for every one of the witches were after me. I scampered home somehow, and here I am. Why don't you laugh, Duffy? Duffy did laugh, and laugh right heartily now, and when tired of their fun, the squire and the lady went to bed. The three years were up within an hour. Duffy had willed for an abundant supply of knitted things, and filled every chest in the house. She was in the best chamber trying to cram some more stockings into a big chest, when the queer little man in black appeared before her. 'Well, Duffy, my dear,' said he, 'I have been true to my word and served you truly for three years as we agreed, so now I hope you will go with me, and make no objection.' He bowed very obsequiously, almost to the ground, and regarded Duffy Lady with a very offensive leer. 'I fear,' smiled Duffy, 'that your country is rather warm, and might spoil my fair complexion.' 'It is not so hot as some people say, Duffy,' was his reply. 'But come along. I've kept my word, and of course a lady of your standing will keep your word also. Can you tell me my name?' Duffy curtsied, and smilingly said, 'You have behaved like a true gentleman, yet I wouldn't like to go so far.' The devil frowned and approached as if he would lay forcible hands upon her. 'Maybe your name is Lucifer?' He stamped his foot and grinned horridly. 'Lucifer! Lucifer! He's no other than a servant to me in my own country.' Suddenly calming again, he said, quietly, 'Lucifer! I would scarcely be seen speaking to him at court. But come along. When I spin for ladies I expect honorable treatment at their hands. You've two guesses more. But they're of little use. My name is not generally known on earth.' 'Perhaps,' smiled Duffy again, 'my lord's name is Beelzebub?' How he grinned, and his sides shook with convulsive joy. 'Beelzebub!' says he. 'I believe he's some sort of a cousin -- a Cornish cousin you know.' 'I hope your honor,' curtsied Duffy, 'will not take offence. Impute my mistake to ignorance.' Our demon was rampant with joy. He danced around Duffy with delight, and was, seeing that she hesitated, about to seize her somewhat roughly. 'Stop! Stop!' shouts Duffy. 'Perhaps you will be honest enough to admit that your name is Terrytop.' The gentleman in black looked at Duffy, and she steadily looked him in the face. 'Terrytop! Deny it if you dare,' says she. 'A gentleman never denies his name,' replied Terrytop, drawing himself up with much dignity. 'I did not expect to be beaten by a young minx like you, Duffy. But the pleasure of your company is merely postponed.' With this Terrytop departed in fire and smoke, and all the devil's knitting suddenly turned to ashes. Squire Lovel was out hunting, away far on the moors. The day was cold and the winds piercing. Suddenly the stockings dropped from his legs and the homespun from his back, so that he came home with nothing on but his shirt and his shoes, almost dead with cold. All this was attributed by the squire to the influence of old Bet, who, he thought, had punished him for pursuing her with his dogs when she had assumed the form of a hare. The story, as told by the drolls, now rambles on. Duffy cannot furnish stockings. The squire is very wroth. There are many quarrels -- mutual recriminations. Duffy's old sweetheart is called in to beat the squire, and eventually peace is procured, by a stratagem of old Bet's, which would rather shock the sense of propriety in these our days. The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall (London: John Camden Hotten, 1871), pp. 239-247. A footnote by Hunt concerning the Fugoe Hole: There is a tradition, firmly believed on the lower side of the Burian, that the Fugoe Hole extends from the cliffs underground so far that the end of it is under the parlor of the Tremewen's house in Trove, which is the only remaining portion of the old mansion of the Lovels. Here the witches were in the habit of meeting the devil, and holding their Sabbath. Often his dark highness has been heard piping while the witches danced to his music. A pool of water some distance from the entrance prevents any adventurer from exploring the 'Hole' to its termination. Hares often take refuge in the Fugoe Hole, from which they have never been known to return.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Dwarf Holzrührlein Bonneführlein,Germany,NA,"Carl and Theodor Colshorn, Zwerg Holzrührlein Bonneführlein, Märchen und Sagen aus Hannover (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Rümpler, 1854), no. 29, pp. 88-89.","In a great forest there once lived a cowherd and a shepherd, and they helped one another in times of need. The cowherd had a daughter and the shepherd a son. From their childhood on they were inseparable, and the older they became the fonder they grew of each other. Thus, when they came of age the shepherd's son proposed to the shepherd's daughter, and she was promised to him in marriage. Some time later an ugly dwarf approached the cowherd and asked for the daughter's hand in marriage. He brought many valuable presents for the mother and the daughter. The daughter could not stand the dwarf, because he was so ugly, and she did not want to marry a dwarf in any event. The mother did not like him either, but that did not stop her from accepting his presents. One day he returned, again with many costly things, but this time the mother said, 'You are not going to get my daughter, no matter how many presents you bring.' The daughter added, 'I do not want your presents at all, and I want you even less!' Then the dwarf became very angry, threw the costly things on the floor, and replied to the mother, 'It's not that simple to get rid of me! Earlier you accepted my presents, and I want to be paid for them. I will return tomorrow at noon. If by then you know my name, then you may keep your daughter, otherwise I will take her by force!' With that the dwarf disappeared. Great concern now ruled the cowherd's household. Now the shepherd's son, while watching over his sheep in the forest, had often seen the dwarf, but every time he had approached him, the dwarf had disappeared. On this day he was watching over his sheep in the vicinity of a cave, and this was the dwarf's cave. The shepherd stood there, leaning on his staff, when suddenly the dwarf came by, as though he were being driven through the forest by a windstorm, and he disappeared into the cave. At the cave's entrance there was a yellow flower that the shepherd's son had often admired because of its unusual color and shape. Before entering the cave, the dwarf had touched the flower. A loud sound came from within the cave. The shepherd's son listened, and he heard the dwarf sing: The next day at noon he appeared as announced. He stepped up to the mother and said sarcastically, 'Now my dear lady, do you know my name?' The mother pretended to be afraid and answered, 'Oh, what could your name be? Are you not called Mäuserich?' The dwarf laughed and said, 'Not even close!' 'Is your name perhaps Ruppsteert?' 'Wrong again!' laughed the dwarf. 'Oh, what are you called then? Your name wouldn't be Holzrührlein Bonneführlein, now would it?' The dwarf disappeared in an instant, and he was never heard from nor seen again. The shepherd's son married the cowherd's daughter, and they lived long and happy lives together.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Gwarwyn-a-throt,Wales,NA,"John Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1901), vol. 2, pp. 593-595.","Long ago there was in service at a Monmouthshire farm a young woman who was merry and strong. Who she was or whence she came nobody knew, but many believed that she belonged to the old breed of Bendith y Mamau. Some time after she had come to the farm, the rumor spread that the house was sorely troubled by a spirit. But the girl and the elf understood one another well, and they became the best of friends. So the elf proved very useful to the maid, for he did everything for her -- washing, ironing, spinning, and twisting wool. In fact, they say that he was remarkably handy at the spinning wheel. Moreover, he expected only a bowlful of sweet milk and wheat bread, or some flummery, for his work. So she took care to place the bowl with his food at the bottom of the stairs every night as she went to bed. It ought to have been mentioned that she was never allowed to catch a sight of him, for he always did his work in the dark. Nor did anybody know when he ate his food. She used to leave the bowl there at night, and it would be empty by the time when she got up in the morning, the bwca having cleared it. But one night, by way of cursedness, what did she do but fill the bowl with some stale urine which they used in dyeing wool and other things about the house. But heavens! it would have been better for her not to have done it, for when she got up next morning what should he do but suddenly spring from some corner and seized her by the neck! He began to beat her and kick her from one end of the house to the other, while he shouted at the top of his voice at every kick: Y faidan din dwmp-- Yn rhoi bara haið a thrwnc I'r bwca! The idea that the thick-buttocked lass Should give barley bread and p-- To the bogie! Meanwhile she screamed for help, but none came for some time. When, however, he heard the servant men getting up, he took to his heels as hard as he could; and nothing was heard of him for some time. But at the end of two years he was found to be at another farm in the neighborhood, called Hafod yr Ynys, where he at once became great friends with the servant girl, for she fed him like a young chicken by giving him a little bread and milk all the time. So he worked willingly and well for her in return for his favorite food. More especially, he used to spin and wind the yarn for her; but she wished him in time to show his face, or to tell her his name. He would by no means do either. One evening, however, when all the men were out, and when he was spinning hard at the wheel, she deceived him by telling him that she was also going out. He believed her; and when he heard the door shutting, he began to sing as he plied the wheel: Hi warða'n iawn pe gypa hi, Taw Gwarwyn-a-throt yw'm enw i. How she would laugh, did she know that Gwarwyn-a-throt is my name! 'Ha! ha!' said the maid at the bottom of the stairs. 'I know thy name now.' 'What is it, then?' he asked. She replied, 'Gwarwyn-a-throt'; and as soon as she uttered the words he left the wheel where it was, and off he went. Oxford University Press, 1901), vol. 2, pp. 593-595.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Hoppetînken,Germany,Iserlohn is a city in the German province Nordrhein-Westfalen.,"Adalbert Kuhn, Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen, vol. 1 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), no. 154, p. 151.","One evening she called out to her fiancé, who had just arrived, 'Look, is your name not Hoppetînken.' Turning red with anger, the dwarf said, 'The devil told you that.' From that time onward he abandoned the spinning girl, and never again helped her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Kinkach Martinko,A Slav Folktale,NA,"Alex. Chodsko, Fairy Tales of the Slav Peasants and Herdsmen, translated by Emily J. Harding (New York: Dodd Mead & Co., and London: George Allen, 1896), pp. 325-332.","Once upon a time there was a poor woman who had an only daughter, named Helen, a very lazy girl. One day when she had refused to do a single thing, her mother took her down to the banks of a stream and began to strike her fingers with a flat stone, just as you do in beating linen to wash it. The girl cried a good deal. A prince, Lord of the Red Castle, happened at that moment to pass by, and inquired as to the cause of such treatment, for it horrified him that a mother should so ill-use her child. 'Why should I not punish her?' answered the woman. 'The idle girl can do nothing but spin hemp into gold thread.' 'Really?' cried he. 'Does she really know how to spin gold thread out of hemp? If that be so, sell her to me.' 'Willingly; how much will you give me for her?' 'Half a measure of gold.' 'Take her,' said the mother; and she gave him her daughter as soon as the money was paid. The prince placed the girl behind him on the saddle, put spurs to his horse, and took her home. On reaching the Red Castle, the prince led Helen into a room filled from floor to ceiling with hemp, and having supplied her with distaff and spinning wheel, said, 'When you have spun all this hemp into gold thread I will make you my wife.' Then he went out, locking the door after him. On finding herself a prisoner, the poor girl wept as if her heart would break. Suddenly she saw a very odd looking little man seated on the window sill. He wore a red cap, and his boots were made of some strange sort of material. 'Why do you weep so?' he asked. 'I cannot help it,' she replied, 'I am but a miserable slave. I have been ordered to spin all this hemp into gold thread, but it is impossible, I can never do it, and I know not what will become of me.' I will do it for you in three days, on condition that at the end of that time you guess my right name, and tell me what the boots I am wearing now are made of.' Without for one moment reflecting as to whether she would be able to guess aright she consented. The uncanny little man burst out laughing, and taking her distaff set to work at once. All day as the distaff moved the hemp grew visibly less, while the skein of gold thread became larger and larger. The little man spun all the time, and, without stopping an instant, explained to Helen how to make thread of pure gold. As night drew on he tied up the skein, saying to the girl, 'Well, do you know my name yet? Can you tell me what boots are made of?' Helen replied that she could not, upon which he grinned and disappeared through the window. She then sat and looked at the sky, and thought, and thought, and thought, and lost herself in conjecturing as to what the little man's name might be, and in trying to guess what was the stuff his boots were made of. Were they of leather? or perhaps plaited rushes? or straw? or cast iron? No, they did not look like anything of that sort. And as to his name -- that was a still more difficult problem to solve. 'What shall I call him?' said she to herself -- 'John? Or Henry? Who knows? perhaps it is Paul or Joseph.' These thoughts so filled her mind that she forgot to eat her dinner. Her meditations were interrupted by cries and groans from outside, where she saw an old man with white hair sitting under the castle wall. 'Miserable old man that I am,' cried he; 'I die of hunger and thirst, but no one pities my sufferings.' Helen hastened to give him her dinner, and told him to come next day, which he promised to do. After again thinking for some time what answers she should give the little old man, she fell asleep on the hemp. The little old man did not fail to make his appearance the first thing next morning, and remained all day spinning the gold thread. The work progressed before their eyes, and it was only when evening came that he repeated his questions. Not receiving a satisfactory answer, he vanished in a fit of mocking laughter. Helen sat down by the window to think; but think as she might, no answer to these puzzling questions occurred to her. While thus wondering the hungry old man again came by, and she gave him her dinner. She was heart-sick and her eyes were full of tears, for she thought she would never guess the spinner's name, nor of what stuff his boots were made, unless perhaps God would help her. 'Why are you so sad?' asked the old man when he had eaten and drunk; 'tell me the cause of you grief, dear lady.' For a long time she would not tell him, thinking it would be useless; but at last, yielding to his entreaties, she gave a full account of the conditions under which the gold thread was made, explaining that unless she could answer the little old man's questions satisfactorily she feared some great misfortune would befall her. The old man listened attentively, then, nodding his head, he said: 'In coming through the forest today I passed close to a large pile of burning wood, round which were placed nine iron pots. A little man in a red cap was running and jumping over them, singing these words: My sweet friend, fair Helen, at the Red Castle near, Two days and two nights seeks my name to divine, She'll never find out, so the third night 'tis clear My sweet friend, fair Helen, can't fail to be mine. Hurrah! for my name is Kinkach Martinko, Hurrah! for my boots are of doggies' skin O! 'Now that is exactly what you want to know, my dear girl; so do not forget, and you are saved.' And with these words the old man vanished. Helen was greatly astonished, but she took care to fix in her memory all the good fellow had told her, and then went to sleep, feeling that she could face tomorrow without fear. One the third day, very early in the morning, the little old man appeared set busily to work, for he knew that all the hemp must be spun before sunset, and that then he should be able to claim his rights. When evening came all the hemp was gone, and the room shone with the brightness of the golden thread. As soon as his work was done, the queer little old man with the red cap drew himself up with a great deal of assurance, and with his hand in his pockets strutted up and down before Helen, ordering her to tell him his right name to say of what stuff the boots were made; but he felt certain that she would not be able to answer aright. 'Your name is Kinkach Martinko, and your boots are made of dogskin,' she replied without the slightest hesitation. At these words he spun round on the floor like a bobbin, tore out his hair beat his breast with rage, roaring so that the very walls trembled. 'It is lucky for you that you have guessed. If you had not, I should have torn you to pieces on this very spot:' so saying he rushed out of the window like a whirlwind. Helen felt deeply grateful towards the old man who had told her the answers, and hoped to be able to thank him in person. But he never appeared again. The Prince of the Red Castle was very pleased with her for having accomplished her task so punctually and perfectly, and he married her as he had promised. Helen was truly thankful to have escaped the dangers that had threatened her, and her happiness as a princess was greater than she had dared hope. She had, too, such a good stock of gold thread that she never had occasion to spin any more all her life long. Herdsmen, translated by Emily J. Harding (New York: Dodd Mead & Co., and London: George Allen, 1896), pp. 325-332.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Kruzimugeli,Lower Austria,NA,"Theodor Vernaleken, Kruzimugeli, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, dem Volke treu nacherzählt (Vienna and Leipzig: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1896), no. 3, pp. 9-11.","There was once a king who wanted to marry, but he had decided to take no woman for a wife who did not have pitch-black hair and eyes of the same color. It made no difference to him whether she was of high or low birth. Thus he had proclaimed throughout the entire country that all girls with these qualities should report to him. Many presented themselves, but in some instances the blackness did not reach the degree desired by the king, in other instances the hair was wrong, and -- in short -- there was a problem with each and every one. A charcoal burner was walking along the path with his daughter. Seeing the crowd of people before the king's castle, she asked her father what it meant. He told her how the king wanted to marry someone with black hair and black eyes, but that he could not find anyone who had them to his satisfaction. The charcoal burner's daughter had both. Therefore she said to her father, 'May I go there?' He replied, 'Are you so stupid that you think the king would take you for his wife?' She told him that she would like to go and just look around the palace a little. He gave his permission, and she walked toward the palace. On the way she met a little man, who called out to her, 'Hey, girl, what will you give me if you become queen?' She answered, 'Hey, little man, what can I give you? I have nothing.' The little man continued, 'You will become queen, but in three years you must still remember that my name is Kruzimugeli. If you don't know that, then you'll be mine.' 'If that's all you want from me, I'll remember it,' replied the charcoal burner's daughter, and ran to the castle. She took no more heed of the little man who stared after her, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction. As soon as the king saw the charcoal burner's daughter he decided to marry her, for her hair glistened and her eyes sparked with blackness. So she married the king and lived happily together with him. In her happiness she almost failed to notice that the three years were coming to an end, and -- oh fright! -- she had forgotten the little man's name. Now she was always sad and spent every day crying. The king, who loved her dearly, attempted to cheer her up with festivities, but all to no avail. Whenever he asked her why she was so sad, she always answered that she could not tell him. One day the royal forester was out in the woods in search of game for the king's table. Going deeper into the woods, he saw a little man who had made a fire and was jumping over it with spiteful joy, singing the whole time: The little man did indeed come the next day, and he asked the queen, 'Now, Your Highness, do you still know my name? You may guess three times, and if you are not right, then you belong to me.' The queen answered, 'I think your name is Steffel.' Hearing this, the little man jumped into the air with joy, and shouted with all his might, 'Not right!' The queen then said, 'Then your name must be Veitl.' The little man made another leap, and called out once more, 'Not right!' Now the queen said very quietly, 'Then your name must be Kruzimugeli.' Hearing this, and without answering, the little man jumped with a roar through the wall to the outside. All attempts to repair the hole that he made in the wall remained fruitless. But the queen and her husband lived happily and contentedly for a long time.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Kugerl,Germany,"The Zingerles' source: 'Oral, in Höttingen.' Translated by D. L. Ashliman.","Ignaz and Joseph Zingerle, Kugerl, Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus Süddeutschland (Regensburg: Verlag von Friedrich Pustet, 1854), pp. 278-280.","A long time ago near Sandbühl there lived an elf. He was scarcely three spans tall. He often ran around dressed in only a shirt, which angered the people, but otherwise he did not get in their way. On the contrary did them many favors. He cut straw for them, tended their cows, and helped them with work at home and in the field. He also provided the sick with healing herbs and rescued many children from death. One time a beautiful peasant girl was gored by a steer. She screamed aloud and called for help. The friendly elf came immediately, comforted her, and promised to help and rescue her, if she would marry him and go with him to the elf kingdom. She had no choice but to say yes, and upon her agreement the elf rescued her. Now she was supposed to go with the dwarf into the mountain, but she did not at all want to. She therefore asked the elf if he would not release her, promising him a beautiful red jacket if he would do so. The dwarf said, 'I can easily get a red jacket. However, if you can guess my name within three days, you shall be released from you promise.' The girl was satisfied with this answer, and she went home. She thought the entire night about the dwarf's name, but it did not come to her. The next day the girl went out to the sand hill where the elf stayed. She said all kinds of names, but none was the right one, and the dwarf said, 'Go home and think about it some more.' The girl returned home and thought day and night about what the little man's name might be. The following day she went out to the sand hill again, where she found the dwarf. Then she said many, many names, but none was the right one. The dwarf said, 'Go home and think about it better, or tomorrow you will be my wife.' So the girl, with her head hanging, returned home sad and dejected. She had given up hope of guessing the dwarf's name. But where the need is greatest, there help will come the soonest. A peasant boy was working near the sand hill, and at noontime he lay down behind the brush to rest. The elf came out of his hole in the ground, and thinking that no one was there, he clapped his hands and danced around in his little shirt while singing, Gott sei Lob und Dank, Daß meine Braut nicht weiß, Daß ich Kugerl heiß. Praise and thanks to God, That my bride does not know, That I am called Kugerl. Gott sei Lob und Dank, Daß meine Braut nicht weiß, Daß ich Kugerl heiß. Praise and thanks to God, That my bride does not know, That I am called Kugerl. The peasant boy was amused by the dwarf's antics, and that evening when he went to the girl's house to visit, he laughingly told her what he had seen and heard that day in the meadow near Sandbühl. The girl was now happy beyond measure and no longer had any fears or concerns. Early in the morning of the following day she went up to the sand hill. She took a red jacket for the dwarf, for she wanted to give him something for rescuing her. When the tiny little man saw her coming he was filled with joy, and said, 'Now tell me, what is my name?' The girl said, 'Putzli.' Then the dwarf laughed and asked her once again. The girl said, 'Nudi.' Then the elf laughed until he shook, and said, 'Guess once again!' Then the girl answered, 'Would your name be Kugerl?' and gave him the red jacket. Then the dwarf began to cry and to moan, and carrying the jacket he went out into the woods. Since that hour he has not been seen again, and no one knows where he went.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Mistress Beautiful,Germany,NA,"Source(books.google.com): Heinrich Pröhle, 'Jungfer Schön,' Kinder- und Volksmärchen (Leipzig: Avenarius und Mendelssohn, 1853), no. 23, p. 76. Source (Internet Archive): Heinrich Pröhle, 'Jungfer Schön,' Kinder- und Volksmärchen (Leipzig: Avenarius und Mendelssohn, 1853), no. 23, p. 76.","In a city there was a wonderfully beautiful but poor girl. A merchant fell in love with her and asked her to marry him. However, because merchants expect a rich dowry, before the wedding she gave herself over to the devil. Thus the devil brought her great wealth under the condition that she would have to discover his name within one year, otherwise the devil would take her. The year's end was approaching, and she still did not know the devil's name. One night a shepherd was lying in his hut just outside the city when he saw a fire not far away. Walking toward the fire, he came to a hill. There he saw various beings dancing around. One of them was particularly cheerful as he jumped around the fire, singing: The next day the shepherd want to the merchant's wife and told her what he had seen and heard. She took note of the name, and when the year had come to an end, the devil appeared before her, and she stated the name: Hipche. Thus the devil was defeated, and Mistress Beautiful lived happily and prosperously with her merchant. With the money that she had received from the devil, their trade expanded across the land and over the sea.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Nägendümer,Germany,Haas's source: 'Received from Putbus by O. Haas.',"A. Haas, 'Nägendümer,' Rügensche Sagen und Märchen (Stettin: Johs. Burmeister's Buchhandlung, 1903), no. 223, pp. 221-222.","Once upon a time there was a girl whose task it was to spin a certain quantity of flax every day. However, she could never complete her work. Then one day a man came to her who promised her that he would spin the flax for her every day if she could guess his name. But the girl could not guess his name. Then the man went away and turned himself into a bird. Flying happily back and forth it cried out: A shepherd who was herding his flock nearby heard this, and he told it to the girl. Sometime later the man returned to the girl and repeated his offer. She said to him, 'Your name is Nägendümer!' The man answered, 'A bad person told you that!' But he kept his promise, and from then on he spun all her flax every day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Peerie Fool [Peerifool],Orkney Islands,"Black's source: 'Taken down from the recitation of an Orkney woman by Mr. D. J. Robertson. Printed in Longman's Magazine, vol. 14, pp. 331-334.' This tale combines folktale type 500 (The Name of the Helper) with type 311 (The Heroine Rescues Herself and Her Sisters).","Examples of Printed Folk-Lore Concerning the Orkney and Shetland Islands, collected by G. F. Black and edited by Northcote W. Thomas: County Folk-Lore, vol. 3, printed extracts, no. 5 (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by David Nutt, 1903), pp. 222-226.","There was once a king and queen in Rousay who had three daughters. The king died, and the queen was living in a small house with her daughters. They kept a cow and a kale yard. They found their cabbage was all being taken away. The eldest daughter said to the queen, she would take a blanket about her and would sit and watch what was going away with the kale. So when the night came, she went out to watch. In a short time a very big giant came into the yard. He began to cut the kale and throw it in a big cubby [straw basket]. So he cut till he had it well filled. The princess was always asking why he was taking her mother's kale. He was saying to her, if she was not quiet he would take her too. As soon as he had filled his cubby, he took her by a leg and an arm and threw her on the top of his cubby of kale, and away home he went with her. When he got home he told her what work she had to do. She had to milk the cow and put her up to the hills called Bloodfield, and then she had to take wool, and wash and tease it, and comb and card, and spin and make claith [cloth]. When the giant went out she milked the cow and put her to the hills. Then she put on the pot and made porridge to herself. As she was supping it, a great many peerie [little] yellow-headed folk came running, calling out to give them some. She said, Little for one, and less for two, And never a grain have I for you. When she came to work the wool , none of that work could she do at all. The giant came home at night and found she had not done her work. He took her and began at her head, and peeled the skin off all the way down her back and over her feet. Then he threw her on the couples [rafters] among the hens. The same adventure befell the second girl. If her sister could do little with the wool, she could do less. When the giant came home he found her work not done. He began at the crown of her head and peeled a strip of skin all down her back and over her feet, and threw her on the couples beside her sister. They lay there and could not speak nor come down. The next night the youngest princess said she would take a blanket about her and go to watch what had gone away with her sisters. Ere long, in came a giant with a big cubby, and began to cut the kale. She was asking why he was taking her mother's kale. He was saying, if she was not quiet he would take her too. He took her by a leg and an arm and threw her on the top of his cubby and carried her away. Next morning he gave her the same work as he had given her sisters. When he was gone out, she milked the cow and put her to the high hills. Then she put on the pot and made porridge to herself. When the peerie yellow-headed folk came asking for some, she told them to get something to sup with. Some got heather cows [brooms made from twigs of heather] and some got broken dishes. Some got one thing, and some another, and they all got some of her porridge. After they were all gone, a peerie yellow-headed boy came in and asked her if she had any work to do; he could do any work with wool. She said she had plenty, but would never be able to pay him for it. He said all he was asking for it was to tell him his name. She thought that would be easy to do, and gave him the wool. When it was getting dark, an old woman came in and asked her for lodging. The princess said she could not give her that, but asked her if she had any news. But the old woman had none, and went away to lie out. There is a high knowe [knoll] near the place, and the old woman sat under it for shelter. She found it very warm. She was always climbing up, and when she came to the top, she heard someone inside saying, Tease, teasers, tease; Card, carders, card; Spin, spinners spin, For Peerie Fool is my name There was a crack in the knowe, and light coming out. She looked in and saw a great many peerie folk working, and a peerie yellow-headed boy running around them, calling out that. The old woman thought she would get lodging if she went to give this news, so she came back and told the princess the whole of it. The princess went on saying, 'Peerie Fool, Peerie Fool,' till the yellow-headed boy came with all the wool made into claith. He asked what was his name, and she guessed names, and he jumped about and said, 'No.' At last she said, 'Peerie Fool is your name.' He threw down the wool and ran off very angry. As the giant was coming home he met a great many peerie yellow-headed folk, some with their eyes hanging on their breasts. He asked them what was the matter. They told him it was working so hard, pulling wool so fine. He said he had a good wife at home, and if she was safe, never would he allow her to do any work again. When he came home she was all safe, and had a great many webs lying all ready, and he was very kind to her. Next day when he went out, she found her sisters and took them down from the couples. She put the skin on their backs again, and she put her eldest sister in a cazy [straw basket], and put all the fine things she could find with her, and grass on the top. When the giant came home, she asked him to take the cazy to her mother with some food for her cow. He was so pleased with her, he would do anything for her, and took it away. Next day she did the same with her other sister. She told him she would have the last of the food she had to send her mother for the cow ready next night. She told him she was going a bit from home, and would leave it ready for him. She got into the cazy with all the fine things she could find, and covered herself with grass. He took the cazy and carried it the queen's house. She and her daughters had a big boiler of boiling water ready. They couped [overturned, emptied] it about him when he was under the window, and that was the end of the giant. Shetland Islands, collected by G. F. Black and edited by Northcote W. Thomas: County Folk-Lore, vol. 3, printed extracts, no. 5 (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by David Nutt, 1903), pp. 222-226. Mr. D. J. Robertson. Printed in Longman's Magazine, vol. 14, pp. 331-334.' type 311 (The Heroine Rescues Herself and Her Sisters).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Penelop,Wales,NA,"John Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1901), vol. 1, pp. 86-89.","In the northwest corner of the parish of Beddgelert there is a place which used to be called by the old inhabitants the Land of the Fairies, and it reaches from Cwm Hafod Ruffydd along the slope of the mountain of Drws y Coed as far as Llyn y Dywarchen. The old people of former times used to find much pleasure and amusement in this district in listening every moonlight night to the charming music of the fair family, and in looking at their dancing and their mirthful sports. One on a time, a long while ago, there lived at upper Drws y Coed a youth, who was joyous and active, brave and determined of heart. This young man amused himself every night by looking on and listening to them. One night they had come to a field near the house, near the shore of Llyn y Dywarchen, to pass a merry night. He went, as usual, to look at them, when his glances at once fell on one of the ladies, who possessed such beauty as he had never seen in a human being. Her appearance was like that of alabaster; her voice was as agreeable as the nightingale's, and as unruffled as the zephyr in a flower garden at the noon of a long summer's day; and her gait was pretty and aristocratic; her feet moved in the dance as lightly on the grass as the rays of the sun had a few hours before on the lake hard by. He fell in love with her over head and ears, and in the strength of that passion -- for what is stronger than love! -- he rushed, when the bustle was at its height, into the midst of the fair crowd, and snatched the graceful damsel in his arms, and ran instantly with her to the house. When the fair family saw the violence used by a mortal, they broke up the dance and ran after her toward the house; but, when they arrived, the door had been bolted with iron, wherefore they could not get near her or touch her in any way; and the damsel had been placed securely in a chamber. The youth, having her now under his roof, as is the saying, endeavored, with all his talent, to win her affection and to induce her to wed. But at first she would on no account hear of it. On seeing his persistence, however, and on finding that he would not let her go to return to her people, she consented to be his servant if he could find out her name; but she would not be married to him. As he thought that was not impossible, he half agreed to the condition; but, after bothering his head with all the names known in that neighborhood, he found himself no nearer his point, though he was not willing to give up the search hurriedly. One night, as he was going home from Carnarvon market, he saw a number of the fair folks in a turbary not far from his path. They seemed to him to be engaged in an important deliberation, and it struck him that they were planning how to recover their abducted sister. He thought, moreover, that if he could secretly get within hearing, he might possibly find her name out. On looking carefully around, he saw that a ditch ran through the turbary and passed near the spot where they stood. So he made his way round to the ditch, and crept, on all fours, along it until he was within hearing of the family. After listening a little, he found that their deliberation was as to the fate of the lady he had carried away, and he heard one of them crying, piteously, 'O Penelop, O Penelop, my sister, why didst thou run away with a mortal!' 'Penelop,' said the young man to himself, 'that must be the name of my beloved; that is enough.' At once he began to creep back quietly, and he returned home safely without having been seen by the fairies. When he got into the house, he called out to the girl, saying, 'Penelop, my beloved one, come here!' and she came forward and asked, in astonishment, 'O mortal, who has betrayed my name to thee?' Then, lifting up her tiny folded hands, she exclaimed, 'Alas, my fate, my fate!' But she grew contented with her fate, and took to her work in earnest. Everything in the house and on the farm prospered under her charge. There was no better or cleanlier housewife in the neighborhood around, or one that was more provident than she. The young man, however, was not satisfied that she should be a servant to him, and, after he had long and persistently sought it, she consented to be married, on the one condition, that, if ever he should touch her with iron, she would be free to leave him and return to her family. He agreed to that condition, since he believed that such a thing would never happen at his hands. So they were marred, and lived several years happily and comfortably together. Two children where born to them, a boy and a girl, the picture of their mother and the idols of their father. But one morning, when the husband wanted to go to the fair at Carnarvon, he went out to catch a filly that was grazing in the field by the house; but for the life of him he could not catch her, and he called to his wife to come to assist him. She came without delay, and they managed to drive the filly to a secure corner, as they thought; but, as the man approached to catch her, she rushed past him. In his excitement, he threw the bridle after her; but who should be running in the direction of it, but his wife! The iron bit struck her on the cheek, and she vanished out of sight on the spot. Her husband never saw her any more; but one cold frosty night, a long time after this event, he was awakened from his sleep by somebody rubbing the glass of his window, and, after he had given a response, he recognized the gentle and tender voice of his wife saying to him: It is said that the descendants of this family still continue in these neighborhoods, and that they are easy to be recognized by their light and fair complexion.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Purzinigele,Austria,"Concerning the countess's second guess on her last day: The word for goat in German is 'Ziege,' which approximates the second part of Purzinigele's name. This explains why he blushes and pauses to think after hearing the countess's first two guesses on the last day.","Ignaz and Joseph Zingerle, Purzinigele, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Buchhandlung, 1852), no. 36, pp. 225-232.","Ages ago, in olden times, there lived a powerful count. All the lands far and wide belonged to him, and he had everything that his heart desired. He shared his wealth and his happiness with a good wife, who was as beautiful as the day and as dear as an angel. They had lived together happily together for several months, and the days seemed to them to be as short as minutes. One day the count was out hunting and went deeper and deeper into the forest. In the heat of the hunt he went further than ever before, and he became separated a good distance from the rest of his party. As he stood there alone in the forest, a dwarf suddenly appeared before him. The little forest dweller was only three feet tall, and his full beard reached his knees. Angrily he rolled his fiery red eyes and said, 'What are you doing here? This is my realm, and you must pay a penalty to me. If you do not give me your wife, you shall not leave this forest alive.' The count was considerably frightened by the dwarf's appearance and his angry words, for he had often heard all kinds of spooky stories about strength and the wickedness of the little man of the forest. His old nurse had told him these stories when he was but a child. What was he to do? This was a critical situation. The frightened count did not know how to escape other than to try to beg and talk his way out. 'Forgive me,' said the count, 'that I have trespassed upon your realm. I did not know that it was yours, and I will certainly never do it again.' But the wild dwarf would not be pacified, and he said, 'What I have said to you must happen. Either you or she.' 'Demand what else you will, and I shall give it to you,' said the count, 'but do not insist upon this.' Then the little man appeared to reconsider, and he said, 'If must be so, then I will place your fate in your wife's hands. I will give you both one month's time. If she is able, in three attempts, to guess my name then she shall be yours and free -- otherwise she shall belong to me.' The count was somewhat comforted with this, but still his heart was burdened. He made his way toward home, accompanied by the little man of the forest. Both were serious, and neither spoke a word. After they had gone some distance they came to an ancient gray-bearded fir tree. The dwarf stopped here and said, 'This is the boundary of my realm. I will await your wife here at this fir tree, which is nine times older than the other trees. Three times she may have three guesses! But if you do not keep your word it will go badly for both of you.' The count now walked slowly homeward, for his heart was heavy, and the closer he came to his castle, the gloomier and sadder he became. As he approached the gate, the countess, who had seen him from her window, came out to meet him. She was filled with joy and happiness, for her husband was home again. But she soon noticed that he was not happy, as he usually was, but instead looked like seven days of rainy weather. This made her sad and concerned, and she asked the count what was wrong with him. As soon as they entered the castle and were in the sitting room, the tired and sad count told her how he had met the dwarf and how he had wanted take the countess, and what conditions he had at last agreed to. When the countess heard this, she became as pale as a corpse, and her beautiful, fine cheeks were wet with tears. Happiness and joy had now disappeared from the castle, and everyone there became silent and sad. The countess most often sat in an alcove thinking and thinking how short her happiness had been, or she went to the castle chapel where she prayed and cried. The count no longer went out hunting nor to the jousting matches but sat instead on his old chair, richly decorated with carvings, on which his ancestors had also sat. Supporting his head with his right hand, he contemplated, but he himself did not know about what. Thus passed day after day and week after week, until finally there were three days left in the month. The count and countess went out into the forest, then further and further until they could see the old gray-bearded fir tree in the distance. The count stayed behind, and the countess proceeded alone. Otherwise it was beautiful in the forest. The birds were singing; the squirrels were jumping about or sitting there splitting pine cones; and the wild roses were blossoming so beautifully white and red. But the countess had a heavy heart as never before, and she sadly walked on until she came to the fir tree. The dwarf, beautifully dressed in green and red, was waiting for her. A mischievous pleasure overcame him when he saw the countess, for she pleased him greatly. 'Now guess my name, Lady Countess!' he said quickly, as though he hardly expected her to do so. Then the countess guessed, 'Fir, Spruce, Pine,' because she thought that for living in the forest he would certainly have the name of a tree. The dwarf had hardly heard this when he broke out laughing and rejoicing until the entire forest resounded. 'You have not guessed it!' he said gleefully. 'See if you can do any better tomorrow than you did today. Otherwise you will become my wife!' The countess, sadder still, walked away from the fir tree with downcast eyes. The dwarf stood there and smiled at her, taking pleasure in her grief. She soon found her husband, and told him how she had guessed so badly. They returned to their castle even sadder than they had left. The rest of the day passed too fast, although it was a sad one. Evening was soon there, and night followed quickly. It was a sad and hopeless night, and neither sleep nor dreams entered the count's room. When the first larks began to sing the next morning, the count and countess were already up and concerned about their plight. They went to the castle chapel to pray, and afterward went out into the dark green forest, then further and deeper until they saw the old gray-bearded fir tree in the distance. The count stayed behind and the countess proceeded alone. Otherwise it was beautiful out there in the forest. The birds were singing; the flowers were laughing and giving off their sweet scent; the squirrels were standing up like little men. But the countess had a heavy heart as never before, and with tears in her eyes she walked on until she came to the fir tree. She had scarcely arrived there when the little man of the forest walked up, dressed beautifully in blue and red. A mischievous pleasure overcame him when he saw the countess, for she pleased him greatly. 'Now guess my name, Lady Countess!' he said quickly, and smiled. Then the countess guessed, 'Oat, Buckwheat, Maize,' for she thought that he might have the name of a grain. The little elf had hardly heard this when he broke out laughing and rejoicing until the entire forest resounded. 'You have not guessed it!' he said gleefully. 'You must do better tomorrow, or you will belong to me, and tomorrow will be my wedding.' The countess, sadder than ever before, walked away from the fir tree with wet eyes. The dwarf stood there impishly smiling at her. She soon found her husband, and told him how badly she had done. They returned to their castle even more gloomily than they had left. The rest of the day passed under a shadow of sorrow. Evening was there before they realized it, and the dark night followed quickly. It was again a sad night, in which neither the count nor the countess closed their eyes. As morning dawned, the count and countess were already up. They went to the castle chapel and prayed fervently. Then they went out into the beautiful green forest. It was still early, early in the morning, and many of the birds were still lying asleep in their nests. Only the brooks were rustling and murmuring, and the morning breezes were whispering through the tree branches. Otherwise it was quiet -- as quiet as in a church. The count and countess walked until they saw the old gray-bearded fir tree in the distance. There the count kissed his beautiful countess, and a tear dropped onto his beard, for he did not know if he would ever see her again. The countess, however was more composed today, and her heart was not beating as quickly as it had done on the earlier occasions. She said good-bye to her husband and walked toward the fir tree. All soul alone, she stood there next to the old tree, but the dwarf was nowhere to be seen. On either side there were wild rosebushes, and they made a beautiful fence. She walked along the path and soon came to a beautiful little valley. The most beautiful flowers were there, with vineyards and fig trees growing on the hillsides. In the middle of the field stood a neat little cottage. Its little windows glistened happily in the morning sunshine. Blue smoke curled upward from the little chimney, and a song sounded from within. The countess forgot her pain and grief when she saw the little valley and the cottage. She crept up and, on tip-toes, looked inside the window to see if it was as beautiful inside as it was outside. She saw a lovely little kitchen, with things cooking and frying in pots and pans. The little man of the forest was standing at the hearth, first tending to one thing and then to another, at the same time singing with a smiling mouth: The countess had heard enough. She crept away and hurried back to the fir tree, so that the dwarf would not overtake her. Joyfully standing there, she could almost not wait for the dwarf to arrive. It was not long before the little man arrived. Today he was dressed even more beautifully than before. His clothing was embroidered with red and gold, and it glistened like a sunrise. 'Guess now for the last time,' said the little elf to the countess, as though he had wanted to say, 'This bird will not escape from my trap.' The countess started to say 'Pur,' while carefully observing her questioner. 'Not right! You have two guesses left!' said the little man. 'Goat,' replied the countess. With that the dwarf blushed a little and seemed to pause and think. Then he said, 'Guess quickly! You have one more chance.' 'Purzinigele!' cried out the countess, filled with joy. Upon hearing his name, the dwarf angrily rolled his fiery red eyes, clenched his fists tightly, then grumbling disappeared into the thicket. The freed countess hurried back to the place where the count was impatiently waiting for her. There was such joy when the two found one another again. To the joy of their people, the count and countess returned to their castle. They lived there many, many years as the happiest couple that anyone ever knew. And what became of Purzinigele? He was so angry that he ran away, and was never seen again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Rumpelstiltskin,Germany,"The Grimms dressed this tale up considerably in succeeding editions. The most notable change is the introduction of the spinning wheel as a device for turning straw into gold. Further, in later editions the queen discovers the dwarf's name through a messenger whom she herself sends forth to collect strange names, not through her husband's chance meeting with the little man. Link to the German-language version of 1857 (the Grimms' last version): Rumpelstilzchen.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Rumpelstilzchen,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), v. 1, no. 55, pp. 253-55.","Once upon a time there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he got into a conversation with the king and said to him: 'I have a daughter who knows the art of turning straw into gold.' So the king immediately sent for the miller's daughter and ordered her to turn a whole room full of straw into gold in one night. And if she could not do it, she would have to die. She was locked in the room, and she sat there and cried, because for her life she did not know how the straw would turn into gold. Then suddenly a little man appeared before her, and said: 'What will you give me, if I turn this all into gold?' She took off her necklace and gave it to the little man, and he did what he had promised. The next morning the king found the room filled with gold, and his heart became even more greedy. He put the miller's daughter into an even larger room filled with straw, and told her to turn it into gold. The little man came again. She gave him a ring from her hand, and he turned it all into gold. The third night the king had her locked in a third room, which was larger than the first two, and entirely filled with straw. 'If you succeed this time, I'll make you my wife,' he said. Then the little man came and said, 'I'll do it again, but you must promise me the first child that you have with the king.' In her distress she made the promise, and when the king saw that this straw too had been turned into gold, he took the miller's daughter as his wife. Soon thereafter the queen delivered a child. Then the little man appeared before her and demanded the child that had been promised him. The queen begged him to let her keep the child, offering him great riches in its place. Finally he said, 'I'll be back to get the child in three days. But if by then you know my name, you can keep the child.!' For two days the queen pondered what the little man's name might be, but she could not think of anything, and became very sad. On the third day the king came home from a hunt and told her how, two days earlier, while hunting deep in a dark forest, he had come upon a little house. A comical little man was there, jumping about as if on one leg, and crying out: The queen was overjoyed to hear this. Then the dangerous little man arrived and asked: 'Your majesty, what is my name?' 'Is your name Conrad?' 'No.' 'Is your name Heinrich?' 'No.' 'Then could your name be Rumpelstiltskin?' 'The devil told you that!' shouted the little man. He ran away angrily, and never came back. Source: Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Rumpelstilzchen,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), v. 1, no. 55, pp. 253-55.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Silly go Dwt,Wales,"Rhys's source: Evan Williams, a smith who lived at Yr Arð Las on Rhos Hirwaen.","John Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1901), v. 1, pp. 229-230.","A farmer's wife who lived at the Nant, in the parish of Llaniestin, was frequently visited by a fairy who used to borrow paddett a gradett [a round flat iron and a pan used for baking] from her. These she used to get, and she returned them with a loaf borne on her head in acknowledgement. But one day she came to ask for the loan of her troett bach, or wheel for spinning flax. When handing her this, the farmer's wife wished to know her name, as she came so often, but she refused to tell her. However, she was watched at her spinning, and overheard singing to the whir of the wheel: Bychan a wyða' hi Mai Sili go Dwt Yw f'enw i. Little did she know That Silly go Dwt Is my name.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Tarandandò,Italy,"This story is from South Tyrol, an alpine region in northern Italy but with historical and cultural ties to Austria. This tale combines elements of three Aarne-Thompson types: The opening episodes where the girl follows her mother's orders literally, much to the mother's regrets, are reminiscent of type 1000 tales, where a master and a servant engage in similar conflicts. The main body of the story, where the heroine gains control over a supernatural helper by discovering his name, is a type 500 tale. The concluding episode, where a cunning old aunt convinces the heroine's husband that spinning will damage his wife's beauty, belongs to type 501. The opening episodes where the girl follows her mother's orders literally, much to the mother's regrets, are reminiscent of type 1000 tales, where a master and a servant engage in similar conflicts. The main body of the story, where the heroine gains control over a supernatural helper by discovering his name, is a type 500 tale. The concluding episode, where a cunning old aunt convinces the heroine's husband that spinning will damage his wife's beauty, belongs to type 501.","Christian Schneller, 'Tarandandò,' Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 55, pp. 158-162.","Once upon a time there was a mother who had but one daughter. She was not an ugly girl, but she had the flaw that she was always too smart for her own good and that she would rather eat and be lazy than work. Such daughters bring little joy to their mothers, and so it was here as well. The daughter could do nothing right for her mother, who for an entire year never stopped scolding her. Once the mother left early for the field, telling the daughter, who was still in bed, 'Near noontime cook some soup and put a couple of kernels of rice in it so there will be something for me to eat when I get home. Now 'a couple' was a common way of saying 'not too much and not too little,' but the girl did not understand that. She put a kettle of water on the fire, picked out two kernels of rice and threw them in. What a soup that was when the mother arrived home! She scolded, but to no avail. She had to pour out the water and make her own soup, if she wanted anything to eat. Another time the mother went away again, and said, 'Boil some meat for our noon meal.' 'How much should I use?' asked the girl. 'Whatever is honest!' replied the mother, and left. 'Just what is honest?' thought the girl over and over. Then it occurred to her that their donkey, standing in the stall, was named Honest. 'Yes, indeed, mother meant him,' she cried. 'To be sure, he is old and is no longer worth much. I'll not get a scolding this time.' So she went to the stall, struck the poor donkey dead, and chopped him up in pieces. Then she put a large washtub on the fire, threw the pieces into the water, and let it boil until it was hissing and bubbling. When the mother arrived home and saw what had happened she was beside herself and began to hit at her daughter with both fists. But that did not bring the poor donkey back to life. And his meat was so tough that it could not be eaten. So she threw it out to the dogs, and they were only able to eat it only because they were bitterly hungry and had sharp teeth. Later the mother went away again and told the daughter, 'For our noon meal cook some mush, but do it right.' The daughter cooked a lot of mush, and she herself ate seven dishes full. The eighth dish, the smallest one, she saved for her mother. When she came home and learned that the girl had already eaten seven dishes of mush, she became angry and began to scold loudly and intensely. At that same moment a distinguished gentleman passed by the house, heard the scolding, and entered. 'Why are you scolding this poor girl so?' he asked. The mother was ashamed and quickly replied, 'I am scolding her because she works too much. Today she has spun seven spindles full, and I do not want her to overtire herself.' 'Can she really spin so well?' asked the gentleman. 'There is no one far and wide in the entire country who can spin as well as my daughter,' answered the mother. Then the gentleman said, 'If that is so, then you can give her to me for my wife. I want to have a wife who works well, and I shall never find one who is better or more industrious.' Mother and daughter agreed happily. The wedding took place, and the gentleman took his young wife home with him. A few days later he had a large pile of flax brought in and said, 'Listen, wife, I will be out hunting the entire day. By tomorrow evening you are to have spun this flax.' She made a sour face and said, 'Husband, my lord, that is not possible.' Then he became angry and repeated to her, 'Do you think that I took you for a wife so you would not have to work? If you want to be lazy then you can go back to your own house.' With that he went forth to hunt. The wife was beside herself. The pile of flax was so large that even with a hundred maids she would not have been able to spin it in two days. While she was standing there in desperation, a dwarf crept up to her. He was dressed in red and wore a little crown on his head. He said, 'Why are you so sad? What will you give me if I spin the flax?' The wife did not answer, and the red dwarf continued, 'I will spin the flax, but only under the condition that you guess my name within three tries. If you fail to do so, you will be mine and must come with me.' In her desperation the wife said yes, and immediately there appeared countless little dwarfs, and they carried all the flax away until not a single strand was left behind. That evening the gentleman returned home from hunting. Seeing his wife quiet and still, he thought that she must be tired from spinning. Before they went to bed he told her, 'Just think about what happened to me today. When I was up on the mountain and it was just getting dark, I came to a split in the earth. I looked down and saw beneath me a large room where many hundreds of little devils were hurriedly spinning flax. It was a joy to watch them. In the middle there stood a throne, and on it sat a dwarf dressed in red and wearing a little crown on his head. He was continuously clicking his tongue and crying out: Then the wife became happy once again, and said, 'Dear husband, my lord, what did the crazy dwarf say?' And when he repeated it, she secretly wrote down the name and went to bed feeling relieved. The next morning the gentleman went hunting again. Then the red dwarf arrived with hundreds of little devils, who were carrying the flax, all finely and neatly spun, and not even a hair of it was missing. Then the red dwarf approached the wife and said with a scornful smile, 'Here is the flax. Now guess what my name is.' Pretending to be at a loss for words, the wife said, 'Is your name perhaps Peter?' 'No,' cried the dwarf, laughing. With an even sadder face she asked, 'Is you name perhaps Toni?' 'No,' repeated the dwarf and laughed even more scornfully. Then she pretended to be thinking deeply and to have fallen into despair. But finally she said, 'Is your name perhaps -- Tarandandò?' 'Curses!' cried the red dwarf, as though he had been stung by a viper. He slapped her hard on the cheek, and then he and his little devils departed into the air with such a sound of whistling and rushing that it was like a windstorm in the fall swirling the dry leaves about and blowing them through the woods. When the gentleman arrived home that evening, his wife showed him the spun flax, and he was uncommonly satisfied. 'But why is your cheek so swollen?' he asked. 'Oh, dear husband, my lord,' she said, 'that comes from spinning.' Soon afterward he had an even larger pile of flax brought in and ordered his wife to spin it within a few days. She was beside herself, but then it occurred to her that she had an aunt who was an uncommonly sly and clever woman who had helped many a relative out of difficulty. She went to her and told her of her troubles. 'Just let me deal with it,' said the aunt. 'Go home, and this evening when your husband is at home I shall come and pay you a visit. Then you'll see.' When it was evening she took a dead hen, filled it with blood and grease, put it under her arm between her skin and her undershirt, and went to her niece. She entered the room where the husband and wife were, and the latter approached her, saying, 'Greetings, dear aunt. It is so good that you can visit us.' 'Yes, yes, I have been looking forward to this for a long time,' said the aunt, and pressed her arm against her body until the blood and grease ran out onto the floor, while she stood there all bent over. 'Oh, good woman, what are you doing there?' said the gentleman. The sly woman looked casually at the blood drops on the floor, then complained loudly, 'Oh, my ailment! My old ailment! I have a large boil under my arm. That's where the blood is coming from.' 'How did you get such an ailment?' asked the gentleman with sympathy. 'Do you know, my lord,' she replied, 'when I was young and beautiful I always had to spin, and that is what brought on my ailment. How it grieved my dear departed husband. I believe it was the cause of his early death.' When the gentleman heard this he turned to his wife and said, 'Listen, wife, you shall never touch another spindle. I can no longer stand spinning!' That was fine with her. From that time forth she had the best and the most comfortable life, and if she hasn't died, she is still living lazily forth.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,The Girl Who Could Spin Gold from Clay and Long Straw,Sweden (Upland),"Thorpes' source: G. O. Hyltén-Cavallius and Geo. Stephens, Svenska Folk-Sagor och Äfventyr. Language cautiously modernized by D. L. Ashliman.","Benjamin Thorpe, Yule-Tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions, from the Swedish, Danish, and German (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1853), pp. 168-170.","There was once an old woman who had an only daughter. The lass was good and amiable, and also extremely beautiful, but at the same time so indolent that she would hardly turn her hand to any work. This was a cause of great grief to the mother, who tried all sorts of ways to cure her daughter of so lamentable a failing. But there was no help. The old woman then thought no better plan could be devised than to set her daughter to spin on the roof of their cottage, in order that all the world might be witness of her sloth. But her plan brought her no nearer the mark. The girl continued as useless as before. One day, as the king's son was going to the chase, he rode by the cottage where the old woman dwelt with her daughter. On seeing the fair spinner on the roof, he stopped and inquired why she sat spinning in such an unusual place. The old woman answered, 'Aye, she sits there to let all the world see how clever she is. She is so clever that she can spin gold out of clay and long straw.' At these words the prince was struck with wonder, for it never occurred to him that the old woman was ironically alluding to her daughter's sloth. He therefore said, 'If what you say is true, that the young maiden can spin gold from clay and long straw, she shall no longer sit there, but shall accompany me to my palace and be my consort.' The daughter thereupon descended from the roof and accompanied the prince to the royal residence, where, seated in her maiden-bower, she received a pail full of clay and a bundle of straw, by way of trial, whether she were so skillful as her mother had said. The poor girl now found herself in a very uncomfortable state, knowing but too well that she could not spin flax, much less gold. So, sitting in her chamber, with her head resting on her hand, she wept bitterly. While she was thus sitting, the door was opened, and in walked a very little old man, who was both ugly and deformed. The old man greeted her in a friendly tone, and asked why she sat so lonely and afflicted. 'I may well be sorrowful,' answered the girl. 'The king's son has commanded me to spin gold from clay and long straw, and if it be not done before tomorrow's dawn, my life is at stake.' The old man then said, 'Fair maiden, weep not, I will help you. Here is a pair of gloves. When you have then on you will be able to spin gold. Tomorrow night I will return, when, if you have not found out my name, you shall accompany me home and be my wife.' In her despair she agreed to the old man's condition, who then went his way. The maiden now sat and span, and by dawn she had already spun up all the clay and straw, which had become the finest gold it was possible to see. Great was the joy throughout the whole palace, that the king's son had got a bride who was so skillful and, at the same time, so fair. But the young maiden did nothing but weep, and the more the time advanced the more she wept, for she thought of the frightful dwarf who was to come and fetch her. When evening drew nigh, the king's son returned from the chase, and went to converse with his bride. Observing that she appeared sorrowful, he strove to divert her in all sorts of ways, and said he would tell her of a curious adventure, provided only she would be cheerful. The girl entreated him to let her hear it. Then said the prince, 'While rambling about in the forest today I witness an odd sort of thing. I saw a very, very little old man dancing round a juniper bush and singing a singular song.' 'What did he sing?' asked the maiden inquisitively, for she felt sure that the prince had met with the dwarf. 'He sang these words, answered the prince, I dag skall jag maltet mala, I morgon skall mitt bröllopp vara. Och jungfrun sitter i buren och gråter; Hon ver inte havad jag heter. Jag heter Titteli Ture. Jag heter Titteli Ture. Today I the malt shall grind, Tomorrow my wedding shall be. And the maiden sits in her bower and weeps; She knows not what I am called. I am called Titteli Ture. I am called Titteli Ture. Was not the maiden now glad? She begged the prince to tell her over and over again what the dwarf had sung. He then repeated the wonderful song, until she had imprinted the old man's name firmly in her memory. She then conversed lovingly with her betrothed, and the prince could not sufficiently praise his young bride's beauty and understanding. But he wondered why she was so overjoyed, being like everyone else, ignorant of the cause of her past sorrow. When it was night, and the maiden was sitting alone in her chamber, the door was opened, and the hideous dwarf again entered. On beholding him the girl sprang up, and said, 'Titteli Ture! Titteli Ture! Here are your gloves.' When the dwarf heard his name pronounced, he was furiously angry, and hastened away through the air, taking with him the whole roof of the house. The fair maiden now laughed to herself and was joyful beyond measure. She then lay down to sleep, and slept till the sun shone. The following day her marriage with the young prince was solemnized, and nothing more was ever heard of Titteli Ture.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,The Rival Kempers,Ireland,NA,"W. B. Yeats, Irish Fairy Tales (1892). Yeats's source: William Carleton, The Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry.","In the north of Ireland there are spinning meetings of unmarried females frequently held at the houses of farmers, called kemps. Every young woman who has got the reputation of being a quick and expert spinner attends where the kemp is to be held, at an hour usually before daylight, and on these occasions she is accompanied by her sweetheart or some male relative, who carries her wheel, and conducts her safely across the fields or along the road, as the case may be. A kemp is, indeed, an animated and joyous scene, and one, besides which is calculated to promote industry and decent pride. Scarcely anything can be more cheering and agreeable than to hear at a distance, breaking the silence of morning, the light-hearted voices of many girls either in mirth or song, the humming sound of the busy wheels -- jarred upon a little, it is true, by the stridulous noise and checkings of the reels, and the voices of the reelers, as they call aloud the checks, together with the name of the girl and the quantity she has spun up to that period; for the contest is generally commenced two or three hours before daybreak. This mirthful spirit is also sustained by the prospect of a dance -- with which, by the way, every kemp closes; and when the fair victor is declared, she is to be looked upon as the queen of the meeting, and treated with the necessary respect. But to our tale. Everyone knew Shaun Buie M'Gaveran to be the cleanest, best-conducted boy, and the most industrious too, in the whole parish of Faugh-a-ballagh. Hard was it to find a young fellow who could handle a flail, spade, or reaping-hook in better style, or who could go through his day's work in a more creditable or workmanlike manner. In addition to this, he was a fine, well-built, handsome young man as you could meet in a fair; and so, sign was on it, maybe the pretty girls weren't likely to pull each other's caps about him Shaun, however, was as prudent as he was good looking; and although he wanted a wife, yet the sorrow one of him but preferred taking a well-handed, smart girl, who was known to be well behaved and industrious, like himself. Here, however, was where the puzzle lay on him; for instead of one girl of that kind, there were in the neighborhood no less than a dozen of them -- all equally fit and willing to become his wife, and all equally good looking. There were two, however, whom he thought a trifle above the rest; but so nicely balanced were Biddy Corrigan and Sally Gorman, that for the life of him he could not make up his mind to decide between them. Each of them had won her kemp; and it was currently said by them who ought to know, that neither of them could overmatch the other. No two girls in the parish were better respected, or deserved to be so; and the consequence was, they had everyone's good word and good wish. Now it so happened that Shaun had been pulling a cord with each; and as he knew not how to decide between, he thought he would allow them to do that themselves if they could. He accordingly gave out to the neighbors that he would hold a kemp on that day week, and he told Biddy and Sally especially that he had made up his mind to marry whichever of them won the kemp, for he knew right well, as did all the parish, that on of them must. The girls agreed to this very good-humoredly, Biddy telling Sally that she (Sally) would surely win it; and Sally not to be outdone in civility, telling the same thing to her. Well, the week was nearly past, there being but two days till that of the kemp, when, about three o'clock, there walks into the house of old Paddy Corrigan a little woman dressed in high-heeled shoes and a short red cloak. There was no one in the house but Biddy at the time, who rose up and placed a chair near the fire, and asked the little red woman to sit down and rest herself. She accordingly did so, and in a short time a lively chat commenced between them. 'So,' said the strange woman, 'there's to be a great kemp in Shaun Buie M'Gaveran's?' 'Indeed there is that, good woman,' replied Biddy, smiling and blushing to back of that again, because she knew her own fate depended on it. 'And,' continued the little woman, 'whoever wins the kemp wins a husband?' 'Aye, so it seems.' 'Well, whoever gets Shaun will be a happy woman, for he's the moral of a good boy.' 'That's nothing but the truth, anyhow,' replied Biddy, sighing, for fear, you may be sure, that she herself might lose him; and indeed a young woman might sigh from many a worse reason. 'But,' said she, changing the subject, 'you appear to be tired, honest woman, an' I think you had better eat a bit, an' take a good drink of buinnhe ramwher (thick milk) to help you on you journey.' 'Thank you kindly, a colleen,' said the woman; 'I'll take a bit, of you plase, hopin', at the same time, that you won't be the poorer of it this day twelve months.' 'Sure,' said the girl, 'you know that what we give from kindness ever an' always leaves a blessing behind it.' 'Yes, acushla, when it is given from kindness.' She accordingly helped herself to the food that Biddy placed before her, and appeared, after eating, to be very much refreshed. 'Now,' said she, rising up, 'you're a very good girl, an' if you are able to find out my name before Tuesday, the kemp-day, I tell you that you'll win it, and gain the husband.' 'Why,' said Biddy, 'I never saw you before. I don't know who you are, nor where you live; how then can I ever find out your name?' 'You never saw me before, sure enough,' said the old woman, 'an' I tell you that you never will see me again but once; an' yet if you have not my name for me at the close of the kemp, you'll lose all, an' that will leave you a sore heart, for well I know you love Shaun Buie.' So saying, she went away, and left poor Biddy quite cast down at what she had said, for, to tell the truth, she loved Shaun very much, and had no hopes of being able to find out the name of the little woman, on which, it appeared, so much to her depended. It was very near the same hour of the same day that Sally Gorman was sitting alone in her father's house, thinking of the kemp, when who should walk in to her but our friend the little red woman. 'God save you, honest woman,' said Sally, 'this is a fine day that's in it, the Lord be praised!' 'It is,' said the woman, 'as fine a day as one could wish for; indeed it is.' 'Have you no news on your travels?' asked Sally. 'The only news in the neighborhood,' replied the other, 'is this great kemp that's to take place a Shaun Buie B'Gaveran's. They say you're either to win him or lose him then,' she added, looking closely at Sally as she spoke. 'I'm not very much afraid of that,' said Sally, with confidence; 'but even if I do lose him, I may get as good.' 'It's not easy gettin' as good,' rejoined the old woman, 'an' you ought to be very glad to win him, if you can.' 'Let me alone for that,' said Sally. 'Biddy's a good girl, I allow; but as for spinnin', she never saw the day she could leave me behind her. Won't you sit an' rest you?' she added; 'maybe you're tired.' 'It's time for you to think of it,' thought the woman, but she spoke nothing; 'but,' she added to herself on reflection, 'it's better late than never -- I'll sit awhile, till I see a little closer what she's made of.' She accordingly sat down and chatted upon several subjects such as young women like to talk about, for about half an hour; after which she arose, and taking her little staff in hand, she bade Sally good-bye, and went her way. After passing a little from the house she looked back, and could not help speaking to herself as follows: She's smooth and smart, But she wants the heart; She's tight and neat, But she gave no meat. Poor Biddy now made all possible inquiries about the old woman, but to no purpose. Not a soul she spoke to about her had ever seen or heard of such a woman. She felt very dispirited, and began to lose heart, for there is no doubt that if she missed Shaun it would have cost her many a sorrowful day. She knew she would never get his equal, or at least anyone that she loved so well. At last the kemp day came, and with it all the pretty girls of the neighborhood to Shaun Buie's. Among the rest, the two that were to decide their right to him were doubtless the handsomest pair by far, and everyone admired them. To be sure, it was a blithe and merry place, and many a light laugh and sweet song rang out from pretty lips that day. Biddy and Sally, as everyone expected were far ahead of the rest, but so even in their spinning that the reelers could not for the life of them declare which was the better. It was neck-and-neck and head-and-head between the pretty creatures, and all who were at the kemp felt themselves would up to the highest pitch of interest and curiosity to know which of them would be successful. The day was now more than half gone, and no difference was between them, when, to the surprise and sorrow of everyone present, Biddy Corrigan's heck broke in two, and so to all appearance ended the contest in favor of her rival; and what added to her mortification, she was ignorant of the little red woman's name as ever. What was to be done? All that could be done was done. Her brother, a boy of about fourteen years of age, happened to be present when the accident took place, having been sent by his father and mother to bring them word how the match went on between the rival spinsters. Johnny Corrigan was accordingly dispatched with all speed to Donnel M'Cusker's, the wheelwright, in order to get the heck mended, that being Biddy's last but hopeless chance. Johnny's anxiety that his sister should win was of course very great, and in order to lose as little time as possible he struck across the country, passing through, or rather close by, Kilrudden forth, a place celebrated as a resort of the fairies. What was his astonishment, however, as he passed a white-thorn tree, to hear a female voice singing, in accompaniment to the sound of a spinning wheel, the following words: There's a girl in this town doesn't know my name; But my name's Even Trot -- Even Trot. 'There's a girl in this town,' said the lad, 'who's in great distress, for she has broken her heck, and lost a husband. I'm now goin' to Donnel M'Cusker's to get it mended.' 'What's her name?' said the little red woman. 'Biddy Corrigan.' The little woman immediately whipped out the heck from her own wheel, and giving it to the boy, desired him to take it to his sister, and never mind Donnel M'Cusker. 'You have little time to lose,' she added, 'so go back and give her this; but don't tell her how you got it, nor, above all things, that it was Even Trot that gave it to you.' The lad returned, and after giving the heck to his sister, as a matter of course told her that it was a little red woman called Even Trot that sent it to her, a circumstance which made tears of delight start to Biddy's eyes, for she know now that Even Trot was the name of the old woman, and having know that she felt that something good would happen to her. She now resumed her spinning, and never did human fingers let down the thread so rapidly. The whole kemp were amazed at the quantity which from time to time filled her pirn. The hearts of her friends began to rise, and those of Sally's party to sink, as hour after hour she was fast approaching her rival, who now spun if possible with double speed on finding Biddy coming up with her. At length they were again even, and just at that moment in came her friend the little red woman, and asked aloud, 'Is there anyone in this kemp that knows my name?' This question she asked three times before Biddy could pluck up courage to answer her. She at last said: There's a girl in this town does know my name -- Your name is Even Trot -- Even Trot. 'Aye,' said the old woman, 'and so it is; and let that name be your guide and your husband's through life. Go steadily along, but let your step be even; stop little; keep always advancing; and you'll never have cause to rue the day that you first saw Even Trot.' We need scarcely add that Biddy won the kemp and the husband, and that she and Shaun lived long and happily together; and I have only now to wish, kind reader, that you and I may live longer and more happily still. William Carleton, The Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Tom Tit Tot,England,"Jacobs' note on his source: Contributed by Mrs. Walter-Thomas (née Fison) to the 'Suffolk Notes and Queries' of the Ipswich Journal, 1877, and reprinted by Mr. E. Clodd in a paper on 'The Philosophy of Rumpelstiltskin' in Folk-Lore Journal, vii [1889], 138-43. I have reduced the Suffolk dialect.... One of the best folk-tales that have ever been collected, far superior to any of the continental variants of this tale with which I am acquainted. Mr. Clodd sees in the class of name-guessing stories, a 'survival' of the superstition that to know a man's name gives you power over him, for which reason savages object to tell their names.","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1898), pp. 1-8.","Once upon a time there was a woman, and she baked five pies. And when they came out of the oven, they were that overbaked the crusts were too hard to eat. So she says to her daughter: 'Darter,' says she, 'put you them there pies on the shelf, and leave 'em there a little, and they'll come again.' -- She meant, you know, the crust would get soft. But the girl, she says to herself: 'Well, if they'll come again, I'll eat 'em now.' And she set to work and ate 'em all, first and last. Well, come supper-time the woman said: 'Go you, and get one o' them there pies. I dare say they've come again now.' The girl went and she looked, and there was nothing but the dishes. so back she came, and says she: 'Noo, they ain't come again.' 'Not one of 'em?' says the mother. 'Not one of 'em,' says she. 'Well, come again, or not come again,' said the woman, 'I'll have one for supper.' 'But you can't, if they ain't come,' said the girl. 'But I can,' says she. 'Go you, and bring the best of 'em.' Best or worst,' says the girl, 'I've ate 'em all, and you can't have one till that's come again.' Well, the woman she was done, and she took her spinning to the door to spin, and as she span she sang: My darter ha' ate five, five pies today. My darter ha' ate five, five pies today. The king was coming down the street, and he heard her sing, but what she sang he couldn't hear, so he stopped and said: 'What was that you were singing, my good woman?' The woman was ashamed to let him hear what her daughter had been doing, so she sang, instead of that: My darter ha' spun five, five skeins today. My darter ha' spun five, five skeins today. 'Stars o' mine!' said the king, 'I never heard tell of anyone that could do that.' Then he said: 'Look you here, I want a wife, and I'll marry your daughter. But look you here,' says he, 'eleven months out of the year she shall have all she likes to eat, and all the gowns she likes to get, and all the company she likes to keep; but the last month of the year she'll have to spin five skeins every day, and if she don't, I shall kill her.' 'All right,' says the woman; for she thought what a grand marriage that was. And as for the five skeins, when the time came, there'd be plenty of ways of getting out of it, and likeliest, he'd have forgotten all about it. Well, so they were married. And for eleven months the girl had all she liked to eat, and all the gowns she liked to get, and all the company she liked to keep. But when the time was getting over, she began to think about the skeins and to wonder if he had 'em in mind. But not one word did he say about 'em, and she thought he'd wholly forgotten 'em. However, the last day of the last month he takes her to a room she'd never set eyes on before. There was nothing in it but a spinning wheel and a stool And says he: 'Now, my dear, here you'll be shut in tomorrow with some victuals and some flax, and if you haven't spun five skeins by the night, your head'll go off.' And away he went about his business. Well, she was that frightened, she'd always been such a gatless [careless] girl, that she didn't so much as know how to spin, and what was she to do tomorrow with no one to come nigh her to help her? She sat down on a stool in the kitchen, and law! how she did cry! However, all of a sudden she heard a sort of a knocking low down on the door. She upped and oped it, and what should she see but a small little black thing with a long tail. That looked up at her right curious, and that said: 'What are you a-crying for?' 'What's that to you?:' says she. 'Never you mind,' that said, 'but tell me what you're a-crying for.' 'That won't do me no good if I do,' says she. 'You don't know that,' that said, and twirled that's tail round. 'well,' says she, 'that won't do no harm, if that don't do no good,' and she upped and told about the pies, and the skeins, and everything. 'This is what I'll do,' says the little black thing, 'I'll come to your window every morning and take the flax and bring it spun at night.' 'What's your pay?' says she. That looked out the corner of that's eyes, and that said: 'I'll give you three guesses every night to guess my name, and if you haven't guessed it before the month's up, you shall be mine. Well, she thought she'd be sure to guess that's name before the month was up. 'All right,' says she, 'I agree.' 'All right,' that says, and law! how that twirled that's tail. Well, the next day, her husband took her into the room, and there was the flax and the day's food. 'Now there's the flax,' says he, and if that ain't spun up this night, off goes your head.' And then he went out and locked the door. He'd hardly gone, when there was a knocking against the window. She upped and she oped it, and there sure enough was the little old thing sitting on the ledge. 'Where's the flax?' says he. 'Here it be,' says she. And she gave it to him. Well, come the evening a knocking came again to the window. She upped and she oped it, and there was the little old thing with five skeins of flax on his arm. 'Here it be,' says he, and he have it to her. 'Now, what's my name' says he. What, is that Bill?' says she. 'Noo, that ain't,' says he, and he twirled his tail. 'Is that Ned?' says she. 'Noo, that ain't,' says he, and he twirled his tail. 'Well, is that Mark?' says she. 'Noo, that ain't,' says he, and he twirled his tail harder, and away he flew. Well, when her husband came in, there were the five skeins ready for him. 'I see I shan't have to kill you tonight, my dear,' says her; 'you'll have your food and your flax in the morning,' says he, and away he goes. Well every day the flax and the food were brought, and every day that there little black impet used to come mornings and evenings. And all the day the girl sate trying to think of names to say to it what it came at night. But she never hit on the right one. And as it got towards the end of the month, the impet began to look so maliceful, and that twirled that's tail faster and faster each time she gave a guess. At last it came to the last day but one. The impet came at night along with the five skeins, and that said: 'What, ain't you got my name yet?' 'Is that Nicodemus?' says she. 'Noo, 'tain't,' that says. 'Is that Sammle?' says she. 'Noo, 'tain't,' that says. 'A-well, is that Methusalem?' says she. 'Noo, 'tain't that neither,' that says. Then that looks at her with that's eyes like a coal o' fire, and that says: 'Woman, there's only tomorrow night, and then you'll be mine?' And away it flew. Well, she felt that horrid. However, she heard the king coming along the passage. In he came, and when he sees the five skeins, he says, says he: 'Well, my dear,' says he. 'I don't see but what you'll have your skeins ready tomorrow night as well, and as I reckon I shan't have to kill you, I'll have supper in here tonight.' So they brought supper, and another stool for him, and down the two sate. Well, he hadn't eaten but a mouthful or so, when he stops and begins to laugh. 'What is it?' says she. 'A-why,' says he, I was out a-hunting today, and I got away to a place in the wood I'd never seen before. And there was an old chalk pit. And I heard a kind of a sort of a humming. So I got off my hobby, and I went right quiet to the pit, and I looked down. Well, what should there be but the funniest little black thing you ever set eyes on. And what was that doing but that had a little spinning wheel, and that was spinning wonderful fast, and twirling that's tail. And as that span that sang: Well, when the girl heard this, she felt as if she could have jumped out her skin for joy, but she didn't say a word. Next day that there little thing looked so maliceful when he came for the flax. And when night came, she heard that knocking against the window panes. She oped the window, and that come right in on the ledge. That was grinning from ear to ear, and Oo! that's tail was twirling round so fast. 'What's my name?' that says, as that gave her the skeins. 'Is that Solomon?' she says, pretending to be afeard. 'Noo, 'tain't,' that says, and that come further into the room. 'Well, is that Zebedee?' says she again. 'Noo, 'tain't,' says the impet. And then that laughed and twirled that's tail till you couldn't hardly see it. 'Take time, woman,' that says; 'next guess, and you're mine.' And that stretched out that's black hands at her. Well, she backed a step or two, and she looked at it, and then she laughed out, and says she, pointing her finger at it: Source: Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1898), pp. 1-8. Contributed by Mrs. Walter-Thomas (née Fison) to the 'Suffolk Notes and Queries' of the Ipswich Journal, 1877, and reprinted by Mr. E. Clodd in a paper on 'The Philosophy of Rumpelstiltskin' in Folk-Lore Journal, vii [1889], 138-43. I have reduced the Suffolk dialect.... One of the best folk-tales that have ever been collected, far superior to any of the continental variants of this tale with which I am acquainted. Mr. Clodd sees in the class of name-guessing stories, a 'survival' of the superstition that to know a man's name gives you power over him, for which reason savages object to tell their names.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Whuppity Stoorie,Scotland,"Rhys's source: Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1858), pp. 221-115. Rhys normalizes the Scottish dialect, with the following comment: 'The Scotch is so broad, that I think it advisable, at the risk of some havoc to the local coloring, to southronize it somewhat.'","John Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1901), vol. 2, pp. 585-590.","I see that you are fond of talks about fairies, children; and a story about a fairy and the goodwife of Kittlerumpit has just come into my mind; but I can't very well tell you now whereabouts Kittlerumpit lies. I think it is somewhere in the Debatable Ground. Anyway, I shall not pretend to know more than I do, like everybody nowadays. I wish they would remember the ballad we used to sing long ago: Mony ane sings the gerss, the gerss, And mony ane sings the corn; And mony ane clatters o' bold Robin Hood, Ne'er kent where he was born. But howsoever about Kittlerumpit. The goodman was a rambling sort of body; and he went to a fair one day, and not only never came home again, but nevermore was heard of. Some said he 'listed, and others that the tiresome press-gang snatched him up, though he was furnished with a wife and a child to boot. Alas! that wretched press-gang! They went about the country like roaring lions, seeking whom they might devour. Well do I remember how my eldest brother Sandy was all but smothered in the meal-chest, hiding from those rascals. After they were gone, we pulled him out from among the meal, puffing and crying, and as white as any corpse. My mother had to pick the meal out of his mouth with the shank of a horn spoon. Ah well, when the goodman of Kittlerumpit was gone, the goodwife was left with small means. Little resources had she, and a baby boy at her breast. All said they were sorry for her; but nobody helped her -- which is a common case, sirs. Howsoever, the goodwife had a sow, and that was her only consolation; for the sow was soon to farrow, and she hoped for a good litter. But we all know hope is fallacious. One day the woman goes to the sty to fill the sow's trough; and what does she find but the sow lying on her back, grunting and groaning, and ready to give up the ghost. I trow [trust, believe] this was a new pang to the goodwife's heart; so she sat down on the knocking stone [a stone with a hollow in it for pounding grain, so as to separate the husks from the kernels], with her bairn [child] on her knee, and cried sorer than ever she did for the loss of her own goodman. Now I premise that the cottage of Kittlerumpit was built on a brae [hillside], with a large fir wood behind it, of which you may hear more ere we go far on. So the goodwife, when she was wiping her eyes, chances to look down the brae; and what does she see but an old woman almost like a lady, coming slowly up the road. She was dressed in green, all but a short white apron and a black velvet hood, and a steeple-crowned beaver hat on her head. She had a long walking staff, as long as herself, in her hand -- the sort of staff that old men and old women helped themselves with long ago. I see no such staffs now, sirs. Ah well, when the goodwife saw the green gentlewoman near her, she rose and made a curtsy; and 'Madam,' quoth she, weeping, 'I am one of the most misfortunate women alive.' 'I don't wish to hear pipers' news and fiddlers' tales, goodwife,' quoth the green woman. 'I know you have lost your goodman -- we had worse losses at the Sheriff Muir [a common saying, in response to a complaint about a trifle]; and I know that your sow is unco [strangely, extremely] sick. Now what will you give me if I cure her?' 'Anything your ladyship's madam likes,' quoth the witless goodwife, never guessing whom she had to deal with. 'Let us wet thumbs on that bargain,' quoth the green woman; so thumbs were wetted, I warrant you; and into the sty madam marches. She looks at the sow with a long stare, and then began to mutter to herself what the goodwife couldn't well understand; but she said it sounded like Pitter patter, Holy water. Then she took out of her pocket a wee bottle, with something like oil in it; and she rubs the sow with it above the snout, behind the ears, and on the tip of the tail. 'Get up, beast,' quoth the green woman. No sooner said than done. Up jumps the sow with a grunt, and away to her trough for her breakfast. The goodwife of Kittlerumpit was a joyful goodwife now, and would have kissed the very hem of the green woman's gown-tail, but she wouldn't let 'I am not so fond of ceremonies,' quoth she; 'but now that I have righted your sick beast, let us end our settled bargain. You will not find me an unreasonable, greedy body. I like ever to do a good turn for a small reward. All I ask, and will have, is that baby boy in your bosom.' The goodwife of Kittlerumpit, who now knew her customer, gave a shrill cry like a stuck swine. The green woman was a fairy, no doubt; so she prays, and cries, and begs, and scolds; but all wouldn't do. 'You may spare your din,' quoth the fairy, 'screaming as if I was as deaf as a doornail. But this I'll let you know: I cannot, by the law we live under, take your bairn till the third day; and not then, if you can tell me my right name.' So madam goes away round the pigsty end; and the goodwife falls down in a swoon behind the knocking stone. Ah well, the goodwife of Kittlerumpit could not sleep any that night for crying, and all the next day the same, cuddling her bairn till she nearly squeezed its breath out. But the second day she thinks of taking a walk in the wood I told you of. And so with the bairn in her arms, she sets out, and goes far in among the trees, where was an old quarry hole, grown over with grass, and a bonny spring well in the middle of it. Before she came very near, she hears the whirring of a flax wheel, and a voice singing a song; so the woman creeps quietly among the bushes, and peeps over the brow of the quarry; and what does she see but the green fairy tearing away at her wheel, and singing like any precentor: Little kens [knows] our guid dame at hame, That Whuppity Stoorie is my name. 'Ha, ha!' thinks the woman, 'I've got the mason's word at last. The devil give them joy that told it!' So she went home far lighter than she came out, as you may well guess -- laughing like a madcap with the thought of cheating the old green fairy. Ah well, you must know that this goodwife was a jocose woman, and ever merry when her heart was not very sorely overladen. So she thinks to have some sport with the fairy; and at the appointed time she puts the bairn behind the knocking stone, and sits on the stone herself. Then she pulls her cap over her left ear and twists her mouth on the other side, as if she were weeping; and an ugly face she made, you may be sure. She hadn't long to wait, for up the brae climbs the green fairy, neither lame nor lazy; and long ere she got near the knocking stone she screams out, 'Goodwife of Kittlerumpit, you know well what I come for. Stand and deliver!' The woman pretends to cry harder than before, and wrings her hands, and falls on her knees with 'Och, sweet madam mistress, spare my only bairn, and take the wretched sow!' 'The devil take the sow, for my part,' quoth the fairy. 'I come not here for swine's flesh. Don't be contramawcious, huzzy, but give me the child instantly!' 'Ochone, dear lady mine,' quoth the crying goodwife; 'forgo my poor bairn, and take me myself!' 'The devil is in the daft jade,' quoth the fairy, looking like the far end of a fiddle. 'I'll bet she is clean demented. Who in all the earthly world, with half an eye in his head, would ever meddle with the likes of thee?' I trow this set up the woman of Kittlerumpit's bristle, for though she had two blear eyes and a long red nose besides, she thought herself as bonny as the best of them. So she springs off her knees, sets the top of her cap straight, and with her two hands folded before her, she makes a curtsy down to the ground, and, 'In troth, fair madam,' quoth she, 'I might have had the wit to know that the likes of me is not fit to tie the worst shoestrings of the high and mighty princess, Whuppity Stoorie.' If a flash of gunpowder had come out of the ground it couldn't have made the fairy leap higher than she did. Then down she came again plump on her shoe-heels; and whirling round, she ran down the brae, screeching for rage, like an owl chased by the witches. The goodwife of Kittlerumpit laughed till she was like to split; then she takes up her bairn, and goes into her house, singing to it all the way: A goo and a gitty, my bonny wee tyke, Ye'se noo ha'e your four-oories; Sin' we've gien Nick a bane to pyke, Wi' his wheels and his Whuppity Stoories. Oxford University Press, 1901), vol. 2, pp. 585-590. Rhys's source: Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1858), pp. 221-115. Rhys normalizes the Scottish dialect, with the following comment: 'The Scotch is so broad, that I think it advisable, at the risk of some havoc to the local coloring, to southronize it somewhat.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Winterkölbl,German Hungary,This story combines elements of type 500 tales with those of type 327A (Hansel and Gretel) and type 709 (Snow-White).,"Theodor Vernaleken, Winterkölbl, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, dem Volke treu nacherzählt (Vienna and Leipzig: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1896), no. 2, pp. 6-8.","A poor woodcutter once lived on the edge of a great forest with his wife and his small daughter. He often did not know how he might still their hunger, and so he decided to lead his daughter into the forest and abandon her there. When he once again had nothing for himself or for his family to eat, and he could find no work, he took his child with him into the woods and left her in a beautiful forest meadow with the promise to return soon. To deceive the child he tied a piece of wood to a tree with a string in such a way that the wind swung it back and forth. Hitting against the tree, it made a sound like someone chopping wood with an axe. The child was thus deceived. She looked for strawberries, played with flowers, and after a while fell asleep -- tired from all the running about. When she awoke the moon was already high in the sky, and her father had not yet come. The child began to cry fervently, then ran deeper into the forest looking for her father. Suddenly she saw a little fire with a number of little pot-shaped containers standing nearby. Curiously, she ran up to them, laid some dry twigs on the fire, which was about to go out, and blew with all her strength in order to make it burn. Turning around, she saw a little man who was smiling at her good naturedly. He was entirely gray, and his white beard, which stuck out from his gray jacket in a strange manner, reached down over his chest. The little girl was afraid and was about to run away, but the dwarf called her back. The child reluctantly obeyed. The old man stroked her cheeks and spoke in such a friendly manner that she lost all fear, and helped him with his cooking. The gray man asked her her name and who her father was. With tears in her eyes she told him, and he comforted her and told her she should stay with him and become his daughter. The child accepted, and the old man led her into his home. It was in a large hollow tree. A pile of leaves served as his bed. The little man prepared a second bed so that the tired child could lie down and rest. The next morning the dwarf wakened the girl and said that he had to go away. She was to take care of the house -- as he called the tree -- while he was away. He returned soon and showed her everything, teaching her to cook and to do the other household chores. Thus the day passed quickly, and night was there before she knew it. They lived several years happily and contentedly, and the girl had grown up so much that was now nearly a head taller than her foster father. Then one evening he told her that it was now time for him to make preparations for her future. 'The queen,' he said, 'who lives in the area needs a faithful servant. I was there and recommended you to her, and she is inclined to take you on.' He added that if she would behave properly it would go well with her the rest of her life. The next morning they went together to the castle. The maiden was introduced to the queen, and accepted by her. She cordially took leave of her foster father, and he promised to visit her every Sunday. She had not worked there long before the young king, who had been waging war against another king, returned home victoriously. The young king was attracted to the girl and wanted to marry her. His mother, who also liked the maiden, gave her approval. When the Gray Man -- as they called him at the castle -- came again to visit his daughter, the queen told him that her son would like to marry his daughter, that she had given her approval, and that it thus now up to him to express his wishes. The old man said sourly, 'The king can marry my little daughter if and only if he can guess my name.' With that he left the castle and returned to the woods. As usual, he made a fire and began to cook. While he was cooking he hopped around the fire singing: Boil, pot, boil, So the king will not know That my name is Winterkölbl. The king was very concerned, and he sent out a servant to discover the old man's name. The servant overheard the old man and rushed back to the castle. He told the name and was rewarded with many gold pieces. When the dwarf returned the king greeted him with the words 'Welcome, Father Winterkölbl!' The old man saw that he had been outsmarted and gave his consent. The wedding was festively celebrated, and even Winterkölbl was there. But he could not be talked into moving into the castle, and he continued to live, as before, in his tree. treu nacherzählt (Vienna and Leipzig: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1896), no. 2, pp. 6-8. (Hansel and Gretel) and type 709 (Snow-White).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
500,Zirkzirk,Germany,"Kuhn's source: a shepherd from Bardenhagen, a village in northern Germany situated between Lüneburg and Uelzen.","Adalbert Kuhn, Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen, vol. 1 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), no. 337, pp. 298-299.","The woman did not think about this very long before saying yes, for she did not believe that she had anything under her apron. From that time onward she always had yarn enough, and every Saturday when her husband came to see what she had done, there was always an abundance. She was happy and satisfied, but before long all this changed, for she was about to deliver a child, and she now realized what the dwarf had meant. Filled with grief, she told her husband everything. One day when he was walking over a mountain he heard the humming of a spinning wheel from within the mountain, and a dwarf singing: Dat is gaut dat de gnädige Frû nich weit dat ik Zirkzirk heit. It is good that the honorable lady does not know that Zirkzirk is my name.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1562A,Enigmas,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 141, pp. 368-69.","Once upon a time a man and his son went on a visit to the son's father-in-law. They were welcomed in a friendly way; but the father-in-law was much put out at the unexpected visit as he had nothing ready for the entertainment of his guests. He took an opportunity to go into the house and said to one of his daughters-in-law. 'Now, my girl, fill the little river and the big river while I am away; and polish the big axe and the little axe and dig out five or six channels, and put hobbles on these relations who have come to visit us and bar them into the cow house. I am going to bathe and will come back with a pot full of the water of dry land, then we will finish off these friends.' The two visitors outside overheard this strange talk and began to wonder what it meant. They did not like the talk about axes and digging channels, it sounded as if their host meant to kill them as a sacrifice and bury their bodies in a river bed; rich men had been known to do such things. With this thought in their minds they got up and began to run away as fast as their legs could carry them. But when the young woman saw what they were doing she ran after them and called them back. They reluctantly stopped to hear what she had to say; and when she came up they reproached her for not having warned them of the fate in store for them. But she only laughed at their folly and explained that what her father-in-law meant was that she should wash their feet and give them a seat in the cow house; and make ready two pots of rice beer and polish the big and little brass basins and make five or six leaf cups and he would bring back some liquor and they would all have a drink. At this explanation they had a hearty laugh and went back to the house. (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 141, pp. 368-69.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1562A,Master of All Masters,England,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales, 3rd edition, revised (London: David Nutt, 1898), no. 42, pp. 220-21.","A girl once went to the fair to hire herself for servant. At last a funny-looking old gentleman engaged her and took her home to his house. When she got there he told her that he had something to teach her, for that in his house he had his own names for things. He said to her, 'What will you call me?' 'Master or mister, or whatever you please, sir,' says she. He said, 'You must call me master of all masters. And what would you call this?' pointing to his bed. 'Bed or couch, or whatever you please, sir.' 'No, that's my barnacle. And what do you call these?' said he, pointing to his pantaloons. 'Breeches or trousers, or whatever you please, sir.' 'You must call them squibs and crackers. And what would you call her?' pointing to the cat. 'Cat or kit, or whatever you please, sir.' 'You must call her white-faced simminy. And this now,' showing the fire, 'what would you call this?' 'Fire or flame, or whatever you please, sir.' 'You must call it hot cockalorum, and what this?' he went on, pointing to the water. 'Water or wet, or whatever you please, sir.' 'No, pondalorum is its name. And what do you call all this?' asked he as he pointed to the house. 'House or cottage, or whatever you please, sir.' 'You must call it high topper mountain.' That very night the servant woke her master up in a fright and said, 'Master of all masters, get out of your barnacle and put on your squibs and crackers. For white-faced simminy has got a spark of hot cockalorum on its tail, and unless you get some pondalorum, high topper mountain will be all on hot cockalorum.' That's all.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1562A,The Clever Apprentice,Scotland,"Gregor's source: Mr. A. Copland, a schoolmaster in Tyrie, Aberdeenshire.","W. Gregor, Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 7 (1889), pp. 166-67.","A shoemaker once engaged an apprentice. A short time after the apprenticeship began the shoemaker asked the boy what he would call him in addressing him. 'Oh, I would just call you master,' answered the apprentice. 'No,' said the master, 'you must call me master above all masters.' Continued the shoemaker, 'What would you call my trousers?' Apprentice: 'Oh, I would call them trousers.' Shoemaker: 'No, you must call them struntifers. And what would you call my wife?' Apprentice: 'Oh, I would call her mistress.' Shoemaker: 'No, you must call her the Fair Lady Permoumadam. And what would you call my son?' Apprentice: 'Oh, I would call him Johnny.' Shoemaker: 'No, you must call him John the Great. And what would you call the cat?' Apprentice: 'Oh, I would call him pussy.' Shoemaker: 'No, you must call him Great Carle Gropus. And what would you call the fire?' Apprentice: 'Oh, I would call it fire.' Shoemaker: 'No, you must call it Fire Evangelist. And what would you call the peat stack?' Apprentice: 'Oh, I would just call it peat stack.' Shoemaker: 'No, you must call it Mount Potago. And what would you call the well?' Apprentice: 'Oh, I would call it well.' Shoemaker: 'No, you must call it the Fair Fountain. And, last of all, what would you call the house?' Apprentice: 'Oh, I would call it house.' Shoemaker: 'No, you must call it the Castle of Mungo.' The shoemaker, after giving this lesson to his apprentice, told him that the first day he had occasion to use all these words at once, and was able to do so without making a mistake, the apprenticeship would be at an end. The apprentice was not long in making an occasion for using the words. One morning he got out of bed before his master and lighted the fire. He then tied some bits of paper to the tail of the cat and threw the animal into the fire. The cat ran out with the papers all in a blaze, landed in the peat stack, which caught fire. The apprentice hurried to his master and cried out, 'Master above all masters, start up and jump into your struntifers, and call upon Sir John the Great and the Fair Lady Permoumadam, for Carle Gropus has caught hold of Fire Evangelist, and he is out to Mount Potago, and if you don't get help from the Fair Fountain, the whole of Castle Mungo will be burned to the ground.' 166-67.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,Binnorie (England),England,NA,NA,"So one fine morning, fair and clear, she said to her sister, 'Let us go and see our father's boats come in at the bonny mill stream of Binnorie.' So they went there hand in hand. And when they came to the river's bank the youngest got upon a stone to watch for the beaching of the boats. And her sister, coming behind her, caught her round the waist and dashed her into the rushing mill stream of Binnorie. 'Oh sister, sister, reach me your hand!' she cried, as she floated away, 'and you shall have half of all I've got or shall get.' 'No, sister, I'll reach you no hand of mine, for I am the heir to all your land. Shame on me if I touch her hand that has come 'twixt me and my own heart's love.' 'Oh sister, oh sister, then reach me your glove!' she cried, as she floated further away, 'and you shall have your William again.' 'Sink on,' cried the cruel princess, 'no hand or glove of mine you'll touch. Sweet William will be all mine when you are sunk beneath the bonny mill stream of Binnorie.' And she turned and went home to the king's castle. And the princess floated down the mill stream, sometimes swimming and sometimes sinking, until she came near the mill. Now the miller's daughter was cooking that day, and needed water for her cooking. And as she went to draw it from the stream, she saw something floating towards the mill dam, and she called out, 'Father! father! draw your dam. There's something white -- a merrymaid or a milk white swan -- coming down the stream.' So the miller hastened to the dam and stopped the heavy cruel mill wheels. And then they took out the princess and laid her on the bank. Fair and beautiful she looked as she lay there. In her golden hair were pearls and precious stones; you could not see her waist for her golden girdle, and the golden fringe of her white dress came down over her lily feet. But she was drowned, drowned! And as she lay there in her beauty a famous harper passed by the mill dam of Binnorie, and saw her sweet pale face. And though he traveled on far away he never forgot that face, and after many days he came back to the bonny mill stream of Binnorie. But then all he could find of her where they had put her to rest were her bones and her golden hair. So he made a harp out of her breast bone and her hair, and traveled on up the hill from the mill dam of Binnorie, until he came to the castle of the king her father. That night they were all gathered in the castle hall to hear the great harper: king and queen, their daughter and son, Sir William, and all their court. And first the harper sang to his old harp, making them joy and be glad, or sorrow and weep just as he liked. But while he sang he put the harp he had made that day on a stone in the hall. And presently it began to sing by itself, low and clear, and the harper stopped and all were hushed. And this was what the harp sung: And yonder stands my brother Hugh, Binnorie, oh Binnorie; And by him, my William, false and true; By the bonny mill dams o' Binnorie.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,Little Anklebone (Anklebone),Pakistan,NA,NA,"But one day came a great big wolf, and looked hungrily at the small shepherd and his fat sheep, saying, 'Little boy! shall I eat you, or your sheep?' Then the little boy answered politely, 'I don't know Mr. Wolf; I must ask my auntie.' So all day long he piped away on his tiny pipe, and in the evening, when he brought the flock home, he went to his auntie and said, 'Auntie dear, a great big wolf asked me today if he should eat me, or your sheep. Which shall it be?' Then his auntie looked at the wee little shepherd, and at the fat flock, and said sharply, 'Which shall it be? Why, you, of course!' So next morning the little boy drove his flock out into the pathless plain, and blew away cheerfully on his shepherd's pipe until the great big wolf appeared. Then he laid aside his pipe, and, going up to the savage beast, said, 'Oh, if you please, Mr. Wolf, I asked my auntie, and she says you are to eat me.' Now the wolf, savage as wolves always are, could not help having just a spark of pity for the tiny barefoot shepherd who played his pipe so sweetly, therefore he said kindly, 'Could I do anything for you, little boy, after I've eaten you?' 'Thank you!' returned the tiny shepherd. 'If you would be so kind, after you've picked the bones, as to thread my ankle-bone on a string and hang it on the tree that weeps over the pond yonder, I shall be much obliged.' So the wolf ate the little shepherd, picked the bones, and afterwards hung the ankle-bone by a string to the branches of the tree, where it danced and swung in the sunlight. Now, one day, three robbers, who had just robbed a palace, happening to pass that way, sat down under the tree and began to divide the spoil. Just as they had arranged all the golden dishes and precious jewels and costly stuffs into three heaps, a jackal howled. Now you must know that thieves always use the jackal's cry as a note of warning, so that when at the very same moment Little Anklebone's thread snapped, and he fell plump on the head of the chief robber, the man imagined some one had thrown a pebble at him, and, shouting 'Run! run! We are discovered!' he bolted away as hard as he could, followed by his companions, leaving all the treasure behind them. 'Now,' said Little Anklebone to himself, 'I shall lead a fine life!' So he gathered the treasure together, and sat under the tree that drooped over the pond, and played so sweetly on a new shepherd's pipe, that all the beasts of the forest, and the birds of the air, and the fishes of the pond came to listen to him. Then Little Anklebone put marble basins round the pond for the animals to drink out of, and in the evening the does, and the tigresses, and the she-wolves gathered round him to be milked, and when he had drank his fill he milked the rest into the pond, till at last it became a pond of milk. And Little Anklebone sat by the milken pond and piped away on his shepherd's pipe. Now, one day, an old woman, passing by with her jar for water, heard the sweet strains of Little Anklebone's pipe, and following the sound, came upon the pond of milk, and saw the animals, and the birds, and the fishes, listening to the music. She was wonderstruck, especially when Little Anklebone, from his seat under the tree, called out, 'Fill your jar, mother! All drink who come hither!' Then the old woman filled her jar with milk, and went on her way rejoicing at her good fortune. But as she journeyed she met with the king of that country, who, having been a-hunting, had lost his way in the pathless plain. 'Give me a drink of water, good mother,' he cried, seeing the jar; 'I am half dead with thirst!' 'It is milk, my son,' replied the old woman; 'I got it yonder from a milken pond.' Then she told the king of the wonders she had seen, so that he resolved to have a peep at them himself. And when he saw the milken pond, and all the animals and birds and fishes gathered round, while Little Anklebone played ever so sweetly on his shepherd's pipe, he said 'I must have the tiny piper, if I die for it!' No sooner did Little Anklebone hear these words than he set off at a run, and the king after him. Never was there such a chase before or since, for Little Anklebone hid himself amid the thickest briars and thorns, and the king was so determined to have the tiny piper, that he did not care for scratches. At last the king was successful, but no sooner did he take hold of Little Anklebone than it began to thunder and lighten horribly, whilst the little piper himself began to sing these words: So the little piper went back to his seat under the tree by the pond, and there he sits still, and plays his shepherd's pipe, while all the beasts of the forest, and birds of the air, and fishes of the pond, gather round and listen to his music. And sometimes, people wandering through the pathless plain hear the pipe, and then they say, 'That is Little Anklebone, who was eaten by a wolf ages ago!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,Murder Will Out (Iceland),Iceland,NA,NA,"When the day came, the priest waited until all the people were inside the church, and then fastened up the skull to the top of the porch. After the service the priest and his servant left the church first, and stood outside the door, watching carefully everybody that came out. When all the congregation had passed out without anything strange occurring, they looked in to see if there was any one still remaining inside. The only person they saw was a very old woman sitting behind the door, who was so unwilling to leave the church, that they were compelled to force her out. As she passed under the porch, three drops of blood fell from the skull on to her white head-dress, and she exclaimed, 'Alas, murder will out at last!' Then she confessed, that having been compelled to marry her first husband against her will, she had killed him with a knitting-pin and married another. She was tried for the murder, though it had happened so many years back, and condemned to death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,The Blue Lily (Caballero),Spain,NA,NA,"But they met him in the bed of a dried-up stream, and knowing that he had the flower with him, one said to the other: 'What shall we do to get the Lily from him, and so gain the crown?' And the other replied : 'Let us kill him.' And they did so, burying him in the sand. As they were two, and there was only one flower, they cast lots for it, and the elder gained it. So he went home very delighted, and when he arrived, gave the Lily to his father the king, who proclaimed him heir to the crown. But it happened that a shepherd passed by the spot where the youngest prince had been buried, and he saw a white reed projecting from the ground, so he cut it off and made a flute with it. When he played it, it sang: Then the shepherd entered the palace, and played the flute, and it repeated its song. So the king commanded his sons to be called, and said to the shepherd that he must show them where he had obtained that flute. And the shepherd took them to the place where he had found the white reed, and the king said to his sons: 'Have you murdered your brother?' But they declared they had not. Then the king, their father, commanded them to dig at that spot, and they found the lad alive and well, but wanting a finger that he had had when buried, but which had served to make the flute. Then the king punished his two wicked sons, and left the crown to the youngest, who lived and reigned many years, but always without one of his fingers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,The Dead Girl's Bone (Switzerland1),Switzerland,NA,NA,"So the two set forth together, and while searching in the woods they separated, and the girl was the first one to find the flower. She thought she would wait for her brother, so she put the flower in her hand, closed it in God's name, and lay down in the shade. Then the boy came to her. He had not found the flower, but when he saw it in his sister's hand, a terrible thought came to him: 'I will murder my sister, take the flower home with me, and then I will become king.' That is what he thought, and that is what he did. He killed her and buried her in the woods, covering with earth so that no one would know what had happened. Many years later a shepherd boy who was there tending his sheep found one of the girl's bones lying on the ground. He made a few holes in it like a flute, and blew into it. Then the bone began to sing ever so sadly and told the entire story how the girl had been killed by her brother. To hear the song would bring tears to your eyes. One day a knight came by where the boy was playing the flute. He bought the flute and played it wherever he went in the land. Finally the old queen heard the knight and became very sad. She had her son removed from the throne, and she mourned for the rest of her life.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,The Griffin (Italy),Italy,NA,NA,"The sons set out in search of it. The youngest met an old man, who asked him what he was doing. He replied, 'Papa is ill. To cure him a feather of the griffin in necessary. And papa has said that whoever finds the feather shall have his crown.' The old man said, 'Well, here is some corn. When you reach a certain place, put it in your hat. The griffin will come and eat it. Seize him, pull out a feather, and carry it to papa.' The youth did so, and for fear that someone should steal it from him, he put it into his shoe, and started all joyful to carry it to his father. On his way he met his brothers, who asked him if he had found the feather. He said, 'No,' but his brothers did not believe him, and wanted to search him. They looked everywhere, but did not find it. Finally they looked in his shoe and got it. Then they killed the youngest brother and buried him, and took the feather to their father, saying that they had found it. The king healed his eyes with it. A shepherd one day, while feeding his sheep, saw that his dog was always digging in the same place, and went to see what it was, and found a bone. He put it into his mouth, and saw that it sounded and said, 'Shepherd, keep me in your mouth, hold me tight, and do not let me go! For a feather of the griffin, my brother has played the traitor, my brother has played the traitor.' One day the shepherd, with his whistle in his mouth, was passing by the king's palace, and the king heard him, and called him to see what it was. the shepherd told him the story, and how he had found it. The king put it to his mouth, and the whistle said, 'Papa! Papa! Keep me in your mouth, hold me tight, and do not let me go. For a feather of the griffin, my brother has played the traitor, my brother has played the traitor.' Then the king put it in the mouth of the brother who had killed the youngest, and the whistle said, 'Brother! Brother! Keep me in you mouth, hold me fast, and do not let me go. For a feather of the griffin, you have played the traitor, you have played the traitor.' Then the king understood the story and had his two sons put to death. And thus they killed their brother and afterwards were killed themselves.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,The Little Bone (Switzerland2),Switzerland,NA,NA,"Many years passed, and the boys' bones hung unavenged on a cliffy bank of the mountain creek. From time to time a particularly strong rush of water would pick up one of the little bones, play with it for a while, and then leave it lying on a remote bank. Once it happened that there was a fair in the valley. Everyone was making merry. The wicked herdsman, drugged by the wine, music, and dance, had lost all humility and good sense, and was reveling in his sinfulness. It was too hot for him inside, so he went out to the creek, which, swollen by a heavy, warm rain, was rushing by much stronger than usual. He kneeled down and took off his hat to scoop up some water. He drank the water that had run into his hat, but at the bottom he found a small white bone. He stuck it onto his hat and returned to the hall. Suddenly the little bone began to bleed; and now everyone knew what had happened to the boy. The festivities were quickly brought to a close, and the evildoer was taken forthwith to the place of execution.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,The Magic Fiddle (India),India,NA,NA,"At noon when she went to bring water, it suddenly dried up before her, and she began to weep. Then after a while the water began slowly to rise. When it reached her ankles she tried to fill her pitcher, but it would not go under the water. Being frightened she began to wail and cry to her brother: The water continued to rise until it reached her knee, when she began to wail again: The water continued to rise, and when it reached her waist, she cried again: The water still rose, and when it reached her neck she kept on crying: At length the water became so deep that she felt herself drowning, then she cried aloud: The pitcher filled with water, and along with it she sank and was drowned. The bonga then transformed her into a bonga like himself, and carried her off. After a time she reappeared as a bamboo growing on the embankment of the tank in which she had been drowned. When the bamboo had grown to an immense size, a jogi, who was in the habit of passing that way, seeing it, said to himself, 'This will make a splendid fiddle.' So one day he brought an ax to cut it down; but when he was about to begin, the bamboo called out, 'Do not cut at the root, cut higher up.' When he lifted his ax to cut high up the stem, the bamboo cried out, 'Do not cut near the top, cut at the root.' When the jogi again prepared himself to cut at the root as requested, the bamboo said, 'Do not cut at the root, cut higher up;' and when he was about to cut higher up, it again called out to him, 'Do not cut high up, cut at the root.' The jogi by this time felt sure that a bonga was trying to frighten him, so becoming angry he cut down the bamboo at the root, and taking it away made a fiddle out of it. The instrument had a superior tone and delighted all who heard it. The jogi carried it with him when he went a begging, and through the influence of its sweet music he returned home every evening with a full wallet. He now and then visited, when on his rounds, the house of the bonga girl's brothers, and the strains of the fiddle affected them greatly. Some of them were moved even to tears, for the fiddle seemed to wail as one in bitter anguish. The elder brother wished to purchase it, and offered to support the jogi for a whole year if he would consent to part with his wonderful instrument. The jogi, however, knew its value, and refused to sell it. It so happened that the jogi some time after went to the house of a village chief, and after playing a tune or two on his fiddle asked for something to eat. They offered to buy his fiddle and promised a high price for it, but he refused to sell it, as his fiddle brought to him his means of livelihood. When they saw that he was not to be prevailed upon, they gave him food and a plentiful supply of liquor. Of the latter he drank so freely that he presently became intoxicated. While he was in this condition, they took away his fiddle, and substituted their own old one for it. When the jogi recovered, he missed his instrument, and suspecting that it had been stolen asked them to return it to him. They denied having taken it, so he had to depart, leaving his fiddle behind him. The chief's son, being a musician, used to play on the jogi's fiddle, and in his hands the music it gave forth delighted the ears of all who heard it. When all the household were absent at their labors in the fields, the bonga girl used to come out of the bamboo fiddle, and prepared the family meal. Having eaten her own share, she placed that of the chief's son under his bed, and covering it up to keep off the dust, reentered the fiddle. This happening every day, the other members of the household thought that some girl friend of theirs was in this manner showing her interest in the young man, so they did not trouble themselves to find out how it came about. The young chief, however, was determined to watch, and see which of his girl friends was so attentive to his comfort. He said in his own mind, 'I will catch her today, and give her a sound beating; she is causing me to be ashamed before the others.' So saying, he hid himself in a corner in a pile of firewood. In a short time the girl came out of the bamboo fiddle, and began to dress her hair. Having completed her toilet, she cooked the meal of rice as usual, and having eaten some herself, she placed the young man's portion under his bed, as before, and was about to enter the fiddle again, when he, running out from his hiding place, caught her in his arms. The bonga girl exclaimed, 'Fie! Fie! You may be a dom, or you may be a hadi of some other caste with whom I cannot marry.' He said, 'No. But from today, you and I are one.' So they began lovingly to hold converse with each other. When the others returned home in the evening, they saw that she was both a human being and a bonga, and they rejoiced exceedingly. Now in course of time the bonga girl's family became very poor, and her brothers on one occasion came to the chief's house on a visit. The bonga girl recognized them at once, but they did not know who she was. She brought them water on their arrival, and afterwards set cooked rice before them. Then sitting down near them, she began in wailing tones to upbraid them on account of the treatment she had been subjected to by their wives. She related all that had befallen her, and wound up by saying, 'You must have known it all, and yet you did not interfere to save me.' And that was all the revenge she took.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,The Silver Plate and the Transparent Apple (Russia),Russia,NA,NA,"There lived once a peasant with his wife and three daughters. Two of these girls were not particularly beautiful, while the third was sweetly pretty. However, as she happened to be a very good girl, as well as simple in her tastes, she was nicknamed Simpleton, and all who knew her called her by that name, though she was in reality far from being one. Her sisters thought of nothing but dress and jewelry. The consequence was that they did not agree with their younger sister. They teased her, mimicked her, and made her do all the hard work. Yet Simpleton never said a word of complaint, but was ready to do anything. She fed the cows and the poultry. If anyone asked her to bring anything, she brought it in a moment. In fact, she was a most obliging young person. One day the peasant had to go to a big fair to sell hay, so he asked his two eldest daughters what he should bring them. 'Bring me some red fustian to make myself a sarafan [coat without sleeves],' said the eldest. 'Buy me some yards of nankeen to make myself a dress,' said the second. Simpleton meanwhile sat in a corner looking at her sisters with great eagerness. Though she was a simpleton, her father found it hard to go away without asking her what she would like him to bring her, so he asked her too. 'Bring me, dear father,' said she, 'a silver plate and a transparent apple to roll about on it.' The father was rather astonished, but he said nothing and left. 'Whatever made you ask for such rubbish?' asked her sisters laughing. 'You will see for yourselves when my father brings them,' said Simpleton, as she left the room. The peasant, after having sold his hay, bought his daughters the things they had asked for, and drove home. The two elder girls were delighted with their presents and laughed at Simpleton, waiting to see what she intended doing with the silver plate and transparent apple. Simpleton did not eat the apple, as they at first thought she would, but sat in a corner pronouncing these words, 'Roll away, apple, roll away, on this silver plate. Show me different towns, fields, and woods, the seas, the heights of the hills, and the heavens in all their glory.' Away rolled the apple, and on the plate became visible, towns, one after another. Ships were seen sailing on the seas. Green fields were seen. The heights of the hills were shown. The beauty of the heavens and the setting of the sun were all displayed most wonderfully. The sisters looked on in amazement. They longed to have it for themselves and wondered how they could best get it from Simpleton, for she took such great care of it, and would take nothing in exchange. At last one day the wicked sisters said coaxingly to Simpleton, 'Come with us, dear, into the forest and help us pick strawberries.' Simpleton gave the plate and the apple to her father to take care of and joined her sisters. When they arrived at the forest they set to work picking wild strawberries. After some time the two elder sisters suddenly came upon a spade lying on the grass. They seized it, and while Simpleton was not looking they gave her a heavy blow with the spade. She turned ghastly pale, and fell dead on the ground. They took her up quickly, buried her under a birch tree, and went home late to their parents, saying, 'Simpleton has run away from us. We looked for her everywhere but cannot find her. She must have been eaten up by some wild beasts while we were not looking.' The father, who really had a little love for the girl, became very sad, and actually cried. He took the plate and apple and locked them both up carefully in a glass case. The sisters also cried very much and pretended to be very sorry, though the real reason was that they found out that they were not likely to have the transparent apple and plate after all, but would have to do all the hard work themselves. One day a shepherd, who was minding a flock of sheep, happened to lose one, and went into the forest to look for it, when suddenly he came upon a hillock under a birch tree, round which grew a number of red and blue flowers, and among them a reed. The young shepherd cut off the reed and made himself a pipe. But what was his astonishment when the moment he put the pipe to his mouth, it began to play by itself, saying, 'Play, play, little pipe. Comfort my dear parents, and my sisters, who so cruelly misused me, killed me, and buried me for the sake of my silver plate and transparent apple.' The shepherd ran into the village greatly alarmed, and a crowd of people soon collected round him asking him what had happened. The shepherd again put the pipe to his mouth, and again the pipe began to play of itself. 'Who killed whom, and where, and how?' asked all the people together, crowding round. 'Good people,' answered the shepherd, 'I know no more than you do. All I know is that I lost one of my sheep and went in search of it, when I suddenly came upon a hillock under a birch tree with flowers round it, and among them was a reed, which I cut off and made into a pipe, and the moment I put the thing into my mouth it began to play of itself, and pronounce the words which you have just heard.' It so happened that Simpleton's father and sisters were among the crowd and heard what the shepherd said. 'Let me try your pipe,' said the father, taking it and putting it into his mouth. And immediately it began to repeat the words, 'Play, play, little pipe. Comfort my dear parents, and my sisters, who misused, killed, and buried me for the sake of the silver plate and transparent apple.' The peasant made the shepherd take him to the hillock at once. When they got to it they began to dig open the hillock, where they found the dead body of the unfortunate girl. The father fell on his knees before it and tried to bring her back to life, but all in vain. The people again began asking who it was that killed and buried her, whereupon the pipe replied, 'My sisters took me into the forest and slew me for the silver plate and transparent apple. If you want to wake me from this sound slumber, you must bring me the water of life from the royal fountain.' The two miserable sisters turned pale and wanted to run away, whereupon the people seized them, tied them together, and marched them off to a dark cell, where they locked them up until the king should pronounce judgement on them. The peasant went to the palace and was brought before the king's son, and falling upon his knees before the prince, he related the whole story. Whereupon the king's son told him to take as much of the water of life from the royal fountain as he pleased. 'When your daughter is well, bring her to me,' continued the prince, 'and also her evil-minded sisters.' The peasant was delighted. He thanked the young prince and ran to the forest with the water of life. After he had sprinkled the body several times with the water, his daughter woke up and stood before him, prettier than ever. They embraced each other tenderly, while the people rejoiced and congratulated the happy man. Next morning the peasant went with his three daughters to the palace and was brought before the king's son. The young prince, when he beheld Simpleton, was greatly struck with her beauty and asked her at once to show him the silver plate and transparent apple. 'What would your highness like to see?' asked the girl, bringing forward her treasures. 'Would you like to know whether your kingdom is in good order, or if your ships are sailing, or whether there is any curious comet in the heavens?' 'Anything you like, sweet maiden.' Away rolled the apple round about the plate, on which became visible soldiers of different arms, with muskets and flags, drawn up in battle array. The apple rolled on, and waves rose, and ships were seen sailing about like swans, while flags waved in the air. On rolled the apple, and on the plate the glory of the heavens was displayed. The sun, moon, and stars, and various comets were seen. The king's son was greatly astonished and offered to buy the plate and apple, but Simpleton fell on her knees before him, exclaiming, 'Take my silver plate and my apple. I want no money and no gifts for them, if you will only promise to forgive my sisters.' The young prince was so moved by her pretty face and her tears that he at once forgave the two wicked girls. Simpleton was so overjoyed that she threw her arms round their necks and tenderly embraced them. The king's son took Simpleton by the hand and said, 'Sweet maiden, I am so struck by the great kindness you have shown your sisters after their cruel treatment of you, that I have decided (provided you agree to it) to have you for my wife, and you shall be known henceforth as the Benevolent Queen.' 'Your highness does me great honor,' said Simpleton, blushing. 'But it lies in my parents' hand. If they do not object, I will marry you.' It is needless to say that neither parent objected, but gave their consent and blessing. 'I have one more request to ask your highness,' said Simpleton, 'and that is to let my parents and sisters live with us in the palace.' The young prince made no objection whatever to this proposal (though most probably he felt sorry for it afterwards; however, the story does not say anything about that). The sisters threw themselves at Simpleton's feet, exclaiming that they did not deserve such kindness after all that they had said and done to her. Next day the marriage was celebrated, and crowds of people ran about everywhere crying out, 'Long live our king and queen!' From that day Simpleton was no more, but the BENEVOLENT QUEEN reigned in her stead.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,The Singing Bone (Grimm),Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,NA,NA,"There were three brothers in the kingdom. The oldest was sly and clever; the second was of ordinary intelligence; but the third and youngest was innocent and slow witted. They wanted to win the princess, so they set forth to seek out the wild boar and kill it. The two oldest ones went together, while the youngest one went by himself. When he entered the woods an old man approached him. He was holding a black lance in his hand, and said to him, 'Take this lance and fearlessly attack the boar with it, and you will kill it.' And that is what happened. He struck the boar with the lance, and it fell dead to the earth. Then he lifted it onto his shoulder, and cheerfully set off toward home. On the way he came to a house where his brothers were making merry and drinking wine. When they saw him with the boar on his back, they called to him, 'Come in and have a drink with us. You must be tired.' The innocent simpleton, not thinking about any danger, went inside and told them how he had killed the boar with the black lance, and rejoiced in his good fortune. That evening they returned home together. The two oldest ones plotted to kill their brother. They let him walk ahead of them, and when they came to a bridge just outside the city, they attacked him, striking him dead. They buried him beneath the bridge. Then the oldest one took the boar, carried it to the king, claimed that he had killed it, and received the princess for a wife. Many years passed, but it was not to remain hidden. One day a shepherd was crossing the bridge when he saw a little bone beneath him in the sand. It was so pure and snow-white that he wanted it to make a mouthpiece from, so he climbed down and picked it up. Afterward he made a mouthpiece from it for his horn, and when he put it to his lips to play, the little bone began to sing by itself:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,The Singing Bones (Louisiana),French Louisiana,NA,NA,"'How is it that this meat has no bones?' 'Because bones are heavy, and meat is cheaper without bones. They give us more for the money.' The husband ate, and said nothing. 'How is it you don't eat meat?' 'You forget that I have no teeth. How do you expect me to eat meat without teeth?' 'That is true,' said the husband, and he said nothing more, because he was afraid to grieve his wife, who was as wicked as she was ugly. When one has twenty-five children one cannot think of them all the time, and one does not see if one or two are missing. One day, after his dinner, the husband asked for his children. When they were by him he counted them, and found only fifteen. He asked his wife where were the ten others. She answered that they were at their grandmother's, and every day she would send one more for them to get a change of air. That was true, every day there was one that was missing. One day the husband was at the threshold of his house, in front of a large stone which was there. He was thinking of his children, and he wanted to go and get them at their grandmother's, when he heard voices that were saying: At first he did not understand what that meant, but he raised the stone and saw a great quantity of bones, which began to sing again. He then understood that it was the bones of his children, whom his wife had killed, and whom he had eaten. Then he was so angry that he killed his wife, buried his children's bones in the cemetery, and stayed alone at his house. From that time he never ate meat, because he believed it would always be his children that he would eat.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
780,Under the Green Old Oak-Tree (Antigua),Antigua,NA,NA,"On his way home, de boy stop wid de gal. He t'inkin' some evil plan. Want dis bucket which was his sister. She would not consent to gi' him dis bucket. He t'ink it best to kill der sister. He kill de sister. He kill dis girl near to a big oak-tree. An' he hide her dere. After he kill her, he go home. Can't give no account a he sister. Dey all went to search for de girl, but none can find her. Der broder stay home. Month gone. Shepherd-boy dat is comin' down de mountain meet a big bone like a flute. He pick dis bone under dat same tree. He took up de bone an' play. Comin' home wid de flock, he play on de bone. It play a sweet tune: Dat's all it could play. It play sweet, you know. Comin' home, all dat hear dis tune beg de boy for a play on it. He give dem a play. Now he way down de mountain. Mos' to where de moder is livin'. He meet de moder. She ask him for a play. He give her a play. As quick as she play, t'ing say: She drop an' faint, but never die. All de people was lookin' for de girl. Dis broder meet de boy. He ask him for a play. Take de bone an' start. T'ing say: An' dere he faints an' dies. Dat is de end a da green ol' oak-tree.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
101,Old Sultan,Germany,"The Grimms' source: Johann Friedrich Krause, from the town of Hof in Hessen. This tale, in a somewhat simpler form, was included in the first edition of Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812). It was rewritten in its present form for the second edition (1819). The separate episodes are classified as follows: The Old Dog as Resuer of the Child, Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 101. War between Wild Animals and Domestic Animals, Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 103. The Old Dog as Resuer of the Child, Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 101. War between Wild Animals and Domestic Animals, Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 103. Link to a separate file, containing only this tale: Old Sultan.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Der alte Sultan, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 48.","A farmer had a faithful dog named Sultan, who had grown old and lost all his teeth, and could no longer hold onto anything. One day the farmer was standing with his wife before the house door, and said, 'Tomorrow I intend to shoot Old Sultan. He is no longer of any use.' His wife, who felt pity for the faithful animal, answered, 'He has served us so long, and been so faithful, that we might well give him his keep.' 'What?' said the man. 'You are not very bright. He doesn't have a tooth left in his mouth, and no thief is afraid of him. He can go now. If he has served us, he has eaten well for it.' The poor dog, who was lying stretched out in the sun not far off, heard everything, and was sorry that tomorrow was to be his last day. He had a good friend, the wolf, and he crept out in the evening into the forest to him, and complained of the fate that awaited him. 'Listen, kinsman,' said the wolf, 'be of good cheer. I will help you out of your trouble. I have thought of something. Tomorrow, early in the morning, your master is going with his wife to make hay, and they will take their little child with them, for no one will be left behind in the house. While they are at work they lay the child behind the hedge in the shade. You lie down there too, just as if you wanted to guard it. Then I will come out of the woods, and carry off the child. You must run swiftly after me, as if you would take it away from me. I will let it fall, and you will take it back to its parents, who will think that you have rescued it, and will be far too grateful to do you any harm. On the contrary, you will be treated royally, and they will never let you want for anything again.' This idea pleased the dog, and it was carried out just as planned. The father screamed when he saw the wolf running across the field with his child, but when Old Sultan brought it back, he was full of joy, and stroked him and said, 'Not a hair of yours shall be hurt. You shall eat free bread as long as you live.' And to his wife he said, 'Go home at once and make Old Sultan some bread soup that he will not have to bite. And bring the pillow from my bed. I will give it to him to lie on. From then on Old Sultan was as well off as he could possibly wish. Soon afterwards the wolf visited him, and was pleased that everything had succeeded so well. 'But, kinsman,' he said, 'you will just close one eye if, when I have a chance, I carry off one of your master's fat sheep.' 'Don't count on that,' answered the dog. 'I will remain true to my master. I cannot agree to that.' The wolf thought that this was not spoken in earnest, and he crept up in the night to take away the sheep. But the farmer, to whom the faithful Sultan had told the wolf's plan, was waiting for him and combed his hair cruelly with a flail. The wolf had to flee, but he cried out to the dog, 'Just wait, you scoundrel. You'll regret this.' The next morning the wolf sent the boar to challenge the dog to come out into the forest and settle the affair. Old Sultan could find no one to be his second but a cat with only three legs, and as they went out together the poor cat limped along, stretching its tail upward with pain. The wolf and his friend were already at the appointed place, but when they saw their enemy coming, they thought that he was bringing a saber with him, for they mistook the cat's outstretched tail for one. And when the poor animal hopped on three legs, they thought that each time it was picking up a stone to throw at them. Then they took fright. The wild boar crept into the underbrush and the wolf jumped up a tree. As the dog and the cat approached, they wondered why no one was to be seen. The wild boar, however, had not been able to hide himself completely in the leaves. His ears were still sticking out. While the cat was looking cautiously about, the boar wiggled his ears, and the cat, who thought it was a mouse, jumped on it and bit down hard. The boar jumped up screaming loudly, 'The guilty one is up in the tree.' The dog and cat looked up and saw the wolf, who was ashamed for having shown such fear, and who then made peace with the dog. alte Sultan, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 48. Hessen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
101,"The Bear, the Dog, and the Cat",Russia,NA,"Alexander Afanasyev, Russian Folk-Tales, translated by Leonard A Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 13-16.","Once there lived a peasant who had a good dog, and as the dog grew old it left off barking and guarding the yard and the storehouses. Its master would no longer nourish it, so the dog went into the wood and lay under a tree to die. Then a bear came up and asked him, ' Hello, Dog, why are you lying here?' 'I have come to die of hunger. You see how unjust people are. As long as you have any strength, they feed you and give you drink; but when your strength dies away and you become old they drive you from the courtyard.' 'Well, Dog, would you like something to eat?' 'I certainly should.' 'Well, come with me; I will feed you.' So they went on. On the way a foal met them. 'Look at me,' said the bear, and he began to claw the ground with his paws. 'Dog, O dog !' 'What do you want?' 'Look, are my eyes beautiful?' 'Yes, Bear, they are beautiful.' So the bear began clawing at the ground more savagely still. ' Dog, O dog, is my hair disheveled?' 'It is disheveled, Bear.' 'Dog, O dog, is my tail raised?' 'Yes, it is raised.' Then the bear laid hold of the foal by the tail, and the foal fell to the ground. The bear tore her to pieces and said, 'Well, Dog, eat as much as you will, and when everything is in order, come and see me.' So the dog lived by himself and had no cares, and when he had eaten all and was again hungry, he ran up to the bear. 'Well, my brother, have you done?' 'Yes, I have done, and again I am hungry.' 'What! Are you hungry again? Do you know where your old mistress lives?' 'I do.' 'Well, then, come; I will steal your mistress's child out of the cradle, and do you chase me away and take the child back. Then you may go back; she will go on feeding you as she formerly did, with bread.' So they agreed, and the bear ran up to the hut himself and stole the child out of the cradle. The child cried, and the woman burst out, hunted him, hunted him, but could not catch him. So they came back, and the mother wept, and the other women were afflicted. From somewhere or other the dog appeared, and he drove the bear away, gook the child and brought it back. 'Look,' said the woman, 'here is your old dog restoring your child!' So they ran to meet him, and the mother was very glad and joyous. 'Now,' she said, 'I shall never discharge this old dog anymore.' So they took him in, fed him with milk, gave him bread, and asked him only to taste the things. And they told the peasant, 'Now you must keep and feed the dog, for he saved my child from the bear; and you were saying he had no strength!' This all suited the dog very well, and he ate his fill, and he said, 'May God grant health to the bear who did not let me die of hunger!' And he became the bear's best friend. Once there was an evening party given at the peasant's house. At that time the bear came in as the dog's guest. 'Hail, Dog, with what luck are you meeting? Is it bread you are eating?' 'Praise be to God,' answered the dog. 'It is no mere living, it is butter week. And what are you doing? Let us go into the izbá [hut]. The masters have gone out for a walk and will not see what you are doing. You come into the izbá and go and hide under the stove as fast as you can. I will await you there and will recall you.' 'Very well.' And so they went into the izbá. The dog saw that his master's guests had drunk too much, and made ready to receive his friend. The bear drank up one glass, then another, and broke it. The guests began singing songs, and the bear wanted to chime in. But the dog persuaded him, 'Do not sing. It would only do harm.' But it was no good, for he could not keep the bear silent, and he began singing his song. Then the guests heard the noise, laid hold of a stick and began to beat him. He burst out and ran away, and just got away with his life. Now the peasant also had a cat, which had ceased catching mice, and even playing tricks. Wherever it might crawl it would break something or spill something. The peasant chased the cat out of the house. But the dog saw that it was going to a miserable life without any food, and secretly began bringing it bread and butter and feeding it. Then the mistress looked on, and as soon as she saw this she began beating the dog, beat it hard, very hard, and saying all the time, 'Give the cat no beef, nor bread.' Then, three days later, the dog went to the courtyard and saw that the cat was dying of starvation. 'What is the matter?' he said. 'I am dying of starvation. I was able to have enough whilst you were feeding me.' 'Come with me.' So they went away. The dog went on, until he saw a drove of horses, and he began to scratch the earth with his paws and asked the cat, 'Cat, O cat, are my eyes beautiful?' 'No, they are not beautiful.' 'Say that they are beautiful!' So the cat said, 'They are beautiful.' 'Cat, O cat, is my fur disheveled?' 'No, it is not disheveled.' 'Say, you idiot, that it is disheveled.' 'Well, it is disheveled.' 'Cat, O cat, is my tail raised?' 'No, it is not raised.' 'Say, you fool, that it is raised.' Then the dog made a dash as a mare, but the mare kicked him back, and the dog died. So the cat said, 'Now I can see that his eyes are very red, and his fur is disheveled, and his tail is raised. Good-bye, brother Dog, I will go home to die.' Afanasyev, Russian Folk-Tales, translated by Leonard A Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 13-16.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
101,The Dog and the Wolf,Bohemia,"Johnson's source: Theodor Vernaleken, 'Der Hund und der Wolf,' Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), no. 9, pp. 39-43. Bohemia is in today's Czech Republic.","Theodor Vernaleken, In the Land of Marvels: Folk-Tales from Austria and Bohemia, translated by E. Johnson (London: Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1889), pp. 54-58.","There was once a peasant family; and, among other domestic animals, they had a house dog named Sultan. When the dog had grown old, the peasant drove him away, thinking that he could no longer properly attend to his duty. Quite downcast, with drooping head, the dog left the village, and complained to himself, 'This is the way I am rewarded for my faithful and hard service; after having spent my years of youth and strength in toil, I am driven away in my weak old age, and no rest is allowed me.' Sadly he went on, and wandered about for many days without finding a tolerable shelter. At last, lean and weak after his long wandering, he came to a forest. There came a wolf out of the forest, ran up to the poor dog, and cried, 'Stop, old fellow, now thou art in my power, so get ready!' When Sultan heard the wolf speak thus, he was in terror, and said, 'Dear friend, do but give a good look at me first, and then you will certainly lose all appetite for me; in me you will find the worst meat that you ever tasted, for I am nothing but skin and bone. However, I can give you some good advice.' The wolf said, 'I want no advice from you, wretched creature! Without your telling me, I know how it would run, namely, that I should spare your life. No! 'tis the old story, short and sweet, down my throat you go!' Then the dog replied, 'I have no thought of the kind, for I would not live longer. Use your jaws so long as you enjoy yourself, but I only advise you for the best. Would it not be the best plan to feed me first, and after I have been fattened you might then gobble me up? The food would not be lost in this way, because you would find it all at one meal in me. There would be a fine dish of meat. What thinkest thou, brother wolf?' The wolf said, 'Agreed, provided the feeding does not last long; follow me into my hut.' The dog did this, and both now went deeper into the forest. Arrived at the hut, Sultan crept in, but the wolf went on to get some game for the poor weak dog. When he came back, he threw his bag before Sultan, and Sultan made a good supper. The next day the wolf came and said to the dog, 'Yesterday you ate; today I will eat.' The dog replied, 'But what have you taken into your head, dear wolf? Why, as to yesterday's food, I scarce know that I had it.' The wolf was very cross; but he had to put up with it, and go into the forest a second time to hunt down some fresh game for the dog. In this way Sultan contrived to put off the wolf so long, that at last he felt strong enough to take up the cudgels with him. The wolf kept on hunting, and brought his prey to the dog; but himself ate little or nothing that Sultan might get enough. And so it came to pass that the dog gained in flesh and strength, while the wolf equally fell off. On the sixth day the wolf came up to the dog and said, 'Now, I think you are ripe!' Sultan replied, 'O yes; in fact I feel myself so well that I will fight it out with you if you won't let me go.' Said the wolf, 'You jest! Consider I have fed you for six whole days, yes, and eaten nothing myself, and now you want me to go away empty? No, no, that will never do!' Then Sultan replied, 'In one respect you are right, but how do you think you can be justified in eating me up?' ''Tis the right of the strong over the weak,' said the wolf. 'Good!' said the dog, you have given judgment against yourself.' With these words he made a bold dash, and before the wolf knew where he was, he lay on the ground overcome by Sultan. 'Because you spared my life, I will not now destroy you, but give you a chance for your own. So choose two comrades; I will do the same, and tomorrow meet me with them in the forest, and we will decide our dispute.' They separated to seek their seconds. The wolf went wrathfully deeper into the forest; the dog hastened to the nearest village. After long talk with the growling bear and the sly fox, the wolf found two comrades. Sultan ran first to the parsonage, and got the great grey cat to go along with him. Thence he turned his steps to the court of the local magistrate, and found in the brave cock his second comrade. It was hardly daybreak when the dog was with his companions on the way. He all but surprised his enemies in a deep sleep. The wolf opened his eyes first, awoke his companions, and said to the bear, 'You can climb trees, can't you? Be so good as to get up this tall fir tree, and look out and see whether our enemies are coming on.' Up went the bear, and as soon as he had got to the top, he called down, 'Run, our enemies are here, close at hand, and what mighty enemies! One rides proudly along, and carries many sharp sabers with him that glisten brightly in the morning sun; behind him there soberly advances another, dragging a long iron bar after him. O dear! O dear!' At these words the fox was so frightened that he thought it most advisable to take to his heels. The bear hastily scrambled down out of the tree, and crept into a dense thicket, so that only just the end of his tail peeped out. The foes came on. The wolf, seeing himself deserted by his companions, was about also to take to his heels, when Sultan confronted him. One spring, and the dog held the wolf by the throat, and put an end to him. Meanwhile the cat observed in the bushes the point of the bear's tail as it moved, and snapped at it, thinking to catch a mouse. In terror the bear came out of his hiding place, and fled in all haste up a tree, thinking that there he would be safe from foes. But he was deceived, for there was the cock before him. When the cock saw the bear on the tree, he sprang to the next bough, and to the next, and so on. The bear was beside himself, and in terror he fell down and lay dead as a door nail. So ended the battle. The news of Sultan's heroic deeds and those of his comrades spread far and wide, even to that village where Sultan had formerly served. The consequence was that the peasant family took back again their faithful house dog, and lovingly cared for him. Vernaleken, In the Land of Marvels: Folk-Tales from Austria and Bohemia, translated by E. Johnson (London: Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1889), pp. 54-58. Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), no. 9, pp. 39-43.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
101,The Old Hound,Aesop,NA,"Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann, 1912, p. 100.","A hound who had served his master well for years, and had run down many a quarry in his time, began to lose his strength and speed owing to age. One day, when out hunting, his master started a powerful wild boar and set the hound at him. The latter seized the beast by the ear, but his teeth were gone and he could not retain his hold; so the boar escaped. His master began to scold him severely, but the hound interrupted him with these words, 'My will is as strong as ever, master, but my body is old and feeble. You ought to honor me for what I have been instead of abusing me for what I am.' (London: W. Heinemann, 1912, p. 100.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
101,The Sagacious Monkey and the Boar,Japan,NA,"Yei Theodora Ozaki, The Japanese Fairy Book, (Westminster: Archibald Constable and Company, 1903), pp. 148-52.","Long, long ago, there lived in the province of Shinshin in Japan, a traveling monkey man, who earned his living by taking round a monkey and showing off the animal's tricks. One evening the man came home in a very bad temper and told his wife to send for the butcher the next morning. The wife was very bewildered and asked her husband, 'Why do you wish me to send for the butcher?' ' It's no use taking that monkey round any longer, he's too old and forgets his tricks. I beat him with my stick all I know how, but he won't dance properly. I must now sell him to the butcher and make what money out of him I can. There is nothing else to be done.' The woman felt very sorry for the poor little animal, and pleaded for her husband to spare the monkey, but her pleading was all in vain, the man was determined to sell him to the butcher. Now the monkey was in the next room and overheard every word of the conversation. He soon understood that he was to be killed, and he said to himself, 'Barbarous, indeed, is my master! Here I have served him faithfully for years, and instead of allowing me to end my days comfortably and in peace, he is going to let me be cut up by the butcher, and my poor body is to be roasted and stewed and eaten? Woe is me! What am I to do. Ah! A bright thought has struck me! There is, I know, a wild boar living in the forest nearby. I have often heard tell of his wisdom. Perhaps if I go to him and tell him the strait I am in he will give me his counsel. I will go and try.' There was no time to lose. The monkey slipped out of the house and ran as quickly as he could to the forest to find the boar. The boar was at home, and the monkey began his tale of woe at once. 'Good Mr. Boar, I have heard of your excellent wisdom. I am in great trouble, you alone can help me. I have grown old in the service of my master, and because I cannot dance properly now he intends to sell me to the butcher. What do you advise me to do? I know how clever you are!' The boar was pleased at the flattery and determined to help the monkey. He thought for a little while and then said, 'Hasn't your master a baby?' 'Oh, yes,' said the monkey, 'he has one infant son.' ' Doesn't it lie by the door in the morning when your mistress begins the work of the day? Well, I will come round early and when I see my opportunity I will seize the child and run off with it.' 'What then?' said the monkey. 'Why the mother will be in a tremendous scare, and before your master and mistress know what to do, you must run after me and rescue the child and take it home safely to its parents, and you will see that when the butcher comes they won't have the heart to sell you.' The monkey thanked the boar many times and then went home. He did not sleep much that night, as you may imagine, for thinking of the morrow. His life depended on whether the boar's plan succeeded or not. He was the first up, waiting anxiously for what was to happen. It seemed to him a very long time before his master's wife began to move about and open the shutters to let in the light of day. Then all happened as the boar had planned. The mother placed her child near the porch as usual while she tidied up the house and got her breakfast ready. The child was crooning happily in the morning sunlight, dabbing on the mats at the play of light and shadow. Suddenly there was a noise in the porch and a loud cry from the child. The mother ran out from the kitchen to the spot, only just in time to see the boar disappearing through the gate with her child in its clutch. She flung out her hands with a loud cry of despair and rushed into the inner room where her husband was still sleeping soundly. He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, and crossly demanded what his wife was making all the noise about. By the time that the man was alive to what had happened, and they both got outside the gate, the boar had got well away, got outside the gate, the boar had got well away, but they saw the monkey running after the thief as hard as his legs would carry him. Both the man and wife were moved to admiration at the plucky conduct of the sagacious monkey, and their gratitude knew no bounds when the faithful monkey brought the child safely back to their arms. ' There!' said the wife. 'This is the animal you want to kill -- if the monkey hadn't been here we should have lost our child forever.' 'You are right, wife, for once,' said the man as he carried the child into the house. 'You may send the butcher back when he comes, and now give us all a good breakfast and the monkey too.' When the butcher arrived he was sent away with an order for some boar's meat for the evening dinner, and the monkey was petted and lived the rest of his days in peace, nor did his master ever strike him again. Theodora Ozaki, The Japanese Fairy Book, (Westminster: Archibald Constable and Company, 1903), pp. 148-52.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,Harry Jenkins,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Christopher Clarkson, The History of Richmond in the County of York (Richmond: Printed for the author by Thomas Bowman, 1821), pp. 396-97.","Bolton-upon-Swale, a chapelry in the parish of Catterick, [is] famous for being the birth-place of Henry Jenkins, who affords such an astonishing instance of longevity, as to have been 'the oldest man born upon the ruins of this postdiluvian world.' He was born in the year 1500, and followed the employment of fishing for one hundred and forty years. When about eleven or twelve years old, he was sent to Northallerton with a horse-load of arrows for the army of the Earl of Surrey, on its march to the north, all the men being then employed at harvest. When he was more than one hundred years old, he used to swim and wade across the river with the greatest ease, and without catching cold. What is the most remarkable, he retained his sight to the last, having made without spectacles two artificial flies for fishing the year before he died; his hearing also continued till his death. Being summoned to give evidence in a tithe cause in 1667, between Charles Anthony, Vicar of Catterick, and Calvert Smithson, owner and occupier of lands in Kipling, he deposed, 'That the tithes of wool, lamb, &c., mentioned in the interrogatories, were the vicar's, and had been paid to his knowledge six score years and more.' And in another cause at York, between John Grubham Howe, Esq., and Mrs. Wastell of Eilerton, about the royalty of the river Swale, he gave evidence to one hundred and forty years. Previous to Jenkins's going to York, when the agent of Mrs. Wastell went to him, to find out what account he could give about the matter in dispute, he saw an old man sitting at the door, to whom he told his business. The old man said, 'He could remember nothing about it, but that he would find his father in the house, who perhaps could satisfy him.' When he went in he saw another old man sitting over the fire, bowed down with years, to whom he repeated his former question. With some difficulty he made him understand what he had said; and after a little time got the following answer which surprised him very much, 'That he knew nothing about it, but that if he would go into the yard, he would meet with his father, who perhaps could tell him.' The agent upon this thought that he had met with a race of antediluvians. However into the yard he went, and to his no small astonish ment found a venerable old man, with a long beard and a broad leathern belt about him, chopping sticks. To this man he again told his business and received such information as in the end recovered the royalty in dispute. As this was a singular piece of service to Mrs. Wastell's cause, which without this man's evidence must have been given to her antagonist, some little annuity might have been settled upon him; but so far from it, that in his old age he went about asking charity and lived the remainder of his life upon very coarse diet.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,Old Age,"Germany, Johann Peter Hebel","This account first appeared in Hebel's Der rheinländische Hausfreund; oder, Neuer Calender auf das Jahr 1809.","Source (books.google.com): Johann Peter Hebel, 'Hohes Alter,' Schatzkästlein des rheinischen Hausfreundes, 2nd edition (Stuttgart and Tübingen: In der J. G. Cotta'schen Buchhandlung, 1818), p. 185. Source (Internet Archive): Johann Peter Hebel, 'Hohes Alter,' Schatzkästlein des rheinischen Hausfreundes, new edition (Stuttgart and Tübingen: In der J. G. Cotta'schen Buchhandlung, 1833), p. 185.","In Scotland there are people who grow very old. Once a traveler came upon an old man in his sixties who was crying. When asked what was wrong with him, he said that his father had slapped his face. The stranger could hardly believe that a man of his years would still have a living father and that he would still be under his discipline. When asked why he had been slapped, the man in his sixties said that he had carelessly dropped his grandfather while helping him into his bed. Upon hearing this the stranger asked to be taken to their house to see if the situation was as the old man stated. Yes, it was so. The boy was 62 years old, the father 96, and the grandfather 130. Afterward, while recounting the story, the stranger told how unusual it was to thus see 288 years together in one little room.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,Searching for the Kingdom of the Green Mountains (#Macinnes),NA,NA,"Source (books.google.com): MacInnes, D., Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition: Argyllshire Series, no. 2, Folk and Hero Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), p. 460. Source (Internet Archive): ): MacInnes, D., Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition: Argyllshire Series, no. 2, Folk and Hero Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), p. 460.","This is a very wide-spread incident, but, as the following extract from a letter of Dr. Hyde's will show, it is by no means necessary to assume borrowing to account for its appearance at different times and in different lands. 'You're a great old man to be working like that,' said the doctor. 'No, but if you were to see my father, you'd say he was the great old man.' The father came out, apparently as hale and hearty as the son, and he was 115 years old. I mention this as a curious coincidence, for next day I read your story.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,Searching for the Kingdom of the Green Mountains (Macinnes),Scotland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): MacInnes, D., Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition: Argyllshire Series, no. 2, Folk and Hero Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 143-49 (English and Gaelic on facing pages). Source (Internet Archive): MacInnes, D., Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition: Argyllshire Series, no. 2, Folk and Hero Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 143-49 (English and Gaelic on facing pages).","He [the soldier] was going on, and inquiring for the road to the kingdom of the Green Mountains. He was told by those of whom he made inquiry that they had never heard of such a kingdom. He was travelling from place to place, but was getting no information about the kingdom. He was ridiculed for speaking at all of such a place. He came one day to houses, and saw an old man putting divots [turf for roofs of houses] on a house, and said to him, 'Ah! how old you are! and yet you are putting divots on the house.' The old man said, 'I am old; but my father is older than I.' 'Ah!' said the soldier, 'Is your father alive?' 'He is,' said the old man. 'Where are you going?' I am going,' said the soldier, 'to the kingdom of the Green Mountains.' 'Well,' said the old man, 'I am old, but I have never heard of that kingdom. Perhaps my father knows about it.' 'Where is your father?' said the soldier. 'He is conveying the divots to me,' said the old man, and will be here in a short time, when you may speak to him about that kingdom.' The man who was conveying the divots arrived; and the soldier said to him, 'Ah! man, how old you are!' 'By Mary, I am old; but my father is older than I,' said the old man. 'Is your father still alive?' said the soldier. 'He is,' said the old man. 'Where is he?' said the soldier. 'He is cutting the divots,' said the old man. They then went to the man who was cutting the divots; and the soldier said, 'Ah! man, how old you are! And yet you are cutting the divots.' The old man said, 'I am old; but my father is older than I.' 'Ah!' said the soldier. 'Is your father, I wonder, still alive?' 'He is,' said he. 'Where is he?' said the soldier. 'He is hunting birds in the hill,' said the old man. The soldier said to him, 'Have you ever heard of the kingdom of the Green Mountains?' 'I have not,' said he; 'but perhaps my father has; and when he comes home tonight you may ask him.' He remained with the old man till evening, when the fowler came home. When the fowler came home the soldier said to him, 'Ah! man, how old you are!' 'I am old,' said he; 'but my father is older than I.' 'Ah!' said the soldier, 'is your father, I wonder, still alive?' 'By Mary! he is,' said the fowler. 'Where is he?' said the soldier. 'He is in the house,' said the fowler. The soldier said to him, 'Have you ever heard of the kingdom of the Green Mountains?' 'I have not,' said he; 'but perhaps my father has.' They went down to the house ; and when they went in the old man was being rocked in a cradle. The soldier said to him, 'Ah! man, what a great age has been granted to you!' 'Well! Yes, a very great age,' said he. The soldier said to him, 'Have you ever heard of the kingdom of the Green Mountains ?' 'Really,' said the old man, 'I have never heard of that kingdom.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,The Dwarf of Folkared's Cliff,"Sweden, Herman Hofberg","Swedish source: Books.google.com: Herman Hofberg, 'Pysslingarna i Folkareds Klef,' Svenska Folksägner (Stockholm: Fr. Skoglunds Förlag, 1882), pp. 73-74. Books.google.com: Herman Hofberg, 'Pysslingarna i Folkareds Klef,' Svenska Folksägner (Stockholm: Fr. Skoglunds Förlag, 1882), pp. 73-74.","Source (books.google.com): Herman Hofberg, Swedish Fairy Tales, translated by W. H. Myers (Chicago: Belford-Clarke Company, 1890), pp. 86-88. Source (Internet Archive): Herman Hofberg, Swedish Fairy Tales, translated by W. H. Myers (Chicago: Belford-Clarke Company, 1890), pp. 86-88.","It is probably that there are few places more gloomy and uninviting than certain parts of the parish of Sibbarp, in the Province of Halland. Dark heaths cover a good portion of the parish, and from their dull brown surface rises, here and there, a lonely, cheerless mountain. One of these is Folkared's Cliff, in the southern part of the parish, noted of old as the abiding place of little trolls and dwarfs. One chilly autumn day a peasant, going from Hogared, in Ljungby, to Folkared, in Sibbarp, in order to shorten his journey took a shortcut by way of the cliff, upon reaching which he perceived a dwarf about the size of a child seven or eight years old, sitting upon a stone crying. 'Where is your home?' asked the peasant, moved by the seeming distress of the little fellow. 'Here,' sobbed the dwarf, pointing to the mountain. 'How long have you lived here?' questioned the peasant in surprise. 'Six hundred years.' 'Six hundred years! You lie, you rascal, and you deserve to be whipped for it.' 'Oh! Do not strike me,' pleaded the dwarf, continuing to cry. 'I have had enough of blows already today.' 'Who have you received them from?' asked the peasant. 'From my father.' 'What capers did you cut up that you were thus punished?' 'Oh, I was set to watch my old grandfather and when I chanced to turn my back he fell and hurt himself upon the floor.' The peasant then understood what character of person he had met, and grasping his dirk he prepared to defend himself. But instantly he heard an awful crash in the mountain, and the dwarf had vanished. Swedish source:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,The Seventh Father of the House,"Norway, Peter Christen Asbjørnsen","Norwegian source: Books.google.com: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, 'Den syvende Fa'r i Huset,' Norske Folke-Eventyr: Ny Samling (Copenhagen: F. Hegel, 1876), no. 5, pp. 21-22. Internet Archive: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, 'Den syvende Fa'r i Huset,' Norske Folke-Eventyr: Ny Samling (Copenhagen: F. Hegel, 1876), no. 5, pp. 21-22. Books.google.com: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, 'Den syvende Fa'r i Huset,' Norske Folke-Eventyr: Ny Samling (Copenhagen: F. Hegel, 1876), no. 5, pp. 21-22. Internet Archive: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, 'Den syvende Fa'r i Huset,' Norske Folke-Eventyr: Ny Samling (Copenhagen: F. Hegel, 1876), no. 5, pp. 21-22. Translation modified by D. L. Ashliman. For example: Brækstad mistranslates the title 'Den syvende Fa'r i Huset' as 'The Seven Fathers in the House.'","Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Round the Yule Log: Norwegian Folk and Fairy Tales, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1881), pp. 108-110. Source (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Round the Yule Log: Norwegian Folk and Fairy Tales, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1881), pp. 108-110.","Once upon a time there was a man who was traveling about, and he came at length to a big and fine farm. There was such a fine manor house there that it might well have been a little castle. 'It would be a nice thing to get a night's rest here,' said the man to himself, upon entering the gate. Close by stood an old man with gray hair and beard, chopping wood. 'Good evening, father,' said the traveler. 'Can I get lodgings here tonight?' 'I am not the father of the house,' said the old man. 'Go into the kitchen and speak to my father!' The traveler went into the kitchen. There he met a man who was still older, and he was lying on his knees in front of the hearth, blowing into the fire. 'Good evening, father. Can I get lodgings here tonight?' asked the traveler. 'I am not the father of the house,' said the old man. 'But go in and speak to my father. He is sitting at the table in the parlor.' So the traveler went into the parlor and spoke to him who was sitting at the table. He was much older than the other two, and he sat there with chattering teeth, shaking, and reading in a big book, almost like a little child. 'Good evening, father. Can you give me lodgings here tonight?' said the man. 'I am not the father of the house. But speak to my father over there. He is sitting on the bench,' said the man who was sitting at the table with chattering teeth, and shaking and shivering. So the traveler went to him who was sitting on the bench. He was getting a pipe of tobacco ready, but he was so bent with age, and his hands shook so much, that he was scarcely able to hold the pipe. 'Good evening, father,' said the traveler again. 'Can I get lodgings here tonight?' 'I am not the father of the house,' said the old, bent-over man. 'But speak to my father, who is in the bed over yonder.' The traveler went to the bed, and there lay an old, old man, and the only thing about him that seemed to be alive was a pair of big eyes. 'Good evening, father. Can I get lodgings here tonight?' said the 'I am not the father of the house. But speak to my father, who lies in the cradle yonder,' said the man with the big eyes. Yes, the traveler went to the cradle. There was a very old man lying, so shriveled up, that he was not larger than a baby, and one could not have told that there was life in him if it had not been for a sound in his throat now and then. 'Good evening, father. Can I get lodgings here tonight?' said the man. It took some time before he got an answer, and still longer before he had finished it. He said, like the others, that he was not the father of the house. 'But speak to my father. He is hanging up in the horn on the wall there.' The traveler stared around the walls, and at last he caught sight of the horn. But when he looked for him who hung in it, there was scarcely anything to be seen but a lump of white ashes, which had the appearance of a man's face. Then he was so frightened, that he cried aloud, 'Good evening, father. Will you give me lodgings here tonight?' There was a sound like a little tomtit's chirping, and he was barely able to understand that it meant, 'Yes, my child.' And now a table came in which was covered with the costliest dishes, with ale and brandy. And when he had eaten and drunk, in came a good bed with reindeer skins, and the traveler was very glad indeed that he at last had found the true father of the house. Norwegian source:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,The Three Old Men,"Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm","The Grimms' source: Schmidt from Lübeck, Der Freimüthige, no. 1 (1809). This legend is numbered 363 in later editions of the Grimms' Deutsche Sagen. Anglia is a small peninsula within the larger peninsula of Jutland in today's Schleswig-Holstein, Germany. This legend is also found in the following collection: Books.google.com: Müllenhoff, Karl Victor, 'Die drei Alten,' Sagen, Märchen und Lieder der Herzogthümer Schleswig, Holstein und Lauenburg (Kiel: Schwersche Buchhandlung, 1845), p. 98. Internet Archive: Müllenhoff, Karl Victor, 'Die drei Alten,' Sagen, Märchen und Lieder der Herzogthümer Schleswig, Holstein und Lauenburg (Kiel: Schwersche Buchhandlung, 1845), p. 98. Books.google.com: Müllenhoff, Karl Victor, 'Die drei Alten,' Sagen, Märchen und Lieder der Herzogthümer Schleswig, Holstein und Lauenburg (Kiel: Schwersche Buchhandlung, 1845), p. 98. Internet Archive: Müllenhoff, Karl Victor, 'Die drei Alten,' Sagen, Märchen und Lieder der Herzogthümer Schleswig, Holstein und Lauenburg (Kiel: Schwersche Buchhandlung, 1845), p. 98.","Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die drei Alten,'Deutsche Sagen (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 362, p. 464. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die drei Alten,'Deutsche Sagen (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 362, p. 464.","There are people still living today in the Duchy of Schleswig, in the region of the Angles, who remember the following story. They heard it from the mouth of Pastor Oest, who died some time ago and who is known for several scholarly works. However, it is not known if he himself experienced the events, or if it was a neighboring preacher. In the middle of the eighteenth century it happened that a new preacher was riding around the boundaries of his diocese in order to familiarize himself thoroughly with its circumstances. In a remote area there was a lonely farmstead, and the road led directly past the front yard of the farmhouse. An old man with snow-white hair was sitting there on a bench and crying bitterly. The pastor wished him a good evening and asked him what was wrong with him. 'Oh,' answered the old man, 'my father gave me a beating.' Surprised, the preacher tied up his horse and entered the house. He was met in the entryway by an old man even more aged than the first one. He was openly agitated and making angry gestures. The preacher addressed him kindly and asked him the cause of his anger. The old man spoke, 'Oh, the boy dropped my father!' With that he opened the parlor door. The pastor was struck with silence and astonishment when he saw there an old man, bent over with age but still energetic, sitting in an easy chair next to the stove. This legend is also found in the following collection:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,The Three Old Men of Painswick,England,"The contributor of this piece is identified only as 'H. Y. J. T., Upton St. Leonards.'","Source (books.google.com): Notes and Queries: A Medium of Intercommunication for Literary Men, General Readers, etc., 4th series, vol. 10 (London, 1872), p. 162. Source (Internet Archive): Notes and Queries: A Medium of Intercommunication for Literary Men, General Readers, etc., 4th series, vol. 10 (London, 1872), p. 162.","Before the glass and baneful pipe Had robb'd man of his strength, And water only was his drink, He lived a greater length. Two hundred years, or more, ago A pilgrim passed that way; And what that pilgrim heard and saw I will relate today. And while he stopp'd outside the town To rest his weary bones. He saw a very aged man Upon a heap of stones. The pilgrim saw him with surprise, And surely thought he dream'd; The poor man was so very old, Methuselah he seem'd! He'd travelled o'er the wide, wide world. Amid its heat and cold, But he had never, never seen A man one-half so old. His face was wrinkled like a skin That's shrivell'd by the heat; His hair was whiter than the snow We tread beneath our feet. It made the pilgrim very sad. As he was passing by, To see his old eyes fill'd with tears. To hear him sob and cry. The man was crying like a child, His tears fell like the rain; The pilgrim felt for him, and ask'd, 'Old man, are you in pain? 'Oh, tell me, tell me, poor old man, Why do you sob and cry?' The old man rubb'd his eyes, and said, 'Feethur's bin a byutting I!' 'Old man, old man, you must be mad. For that can never be; Your father surely has been dead At least a century.' 'My feethur be alive and well, I wish that he weer dy'ud. For he ha bin and byut his stick About my face and yud.' The pilgrim pick'd the old man up. And walk'd to Painswick town; 'Oh show me where your father lives. And I will put you down. And I will tell the cruel man Such things must not be done, And I will say how wrong it is To beat his aged son.' The pilgrim shook a garden gate. An old man ope'd the door; His back was bended like a bow, His white beard swept the floor. If Adam he had lived till now, And lengthen'd out his span, Then Adam really would have seem'd Another such a man! The pilgrim felt amazed, indeed, When he beheld his sire; He held a great stick in his hand, His face was flush'd with ire. 'Old man, old man, put down your stick. Why do you beat your son?' 'I'll cut the rascal to the quick If he does what he've done. Why up in yonder apple-tree Grandfeether risk'd his bones; And while the old man pick'd the fruit, The rascal dubb'd with stones.' The pilgrim turn'd his head and saw, In a spreading apple-tree, A very, very aged man. The eldest of the three. The pilgrim was a holy man, Whose hopes were in the sky; He fled -- he thought it was a place Where man would never die.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
726,Three Generations,United States of America,NA,"Oral transmission. Heard in Saint George, Utah, November 2006.","A seventy-year old man visited a doctor for a routine examination. Impressed with his patient's vitality and health, the doctor decided to ask him some questions about his lifestyle. After hearing responses about diet and exercise, the physician continued: 'And may I also ask about your sexual activity?' 'Of course,' answered the seventy-year-old. 'I usually have sex three times a week.' 'That's remarkable,' said the doctor. 'Would you happen to know how late in life your father remained sexually active?' 'Oh, Dad? He's a bit of an embarassment to us. He's ninety, and he visits a prostitute every week.' 'Ninety!' exclaimed the doctor. 'You do have good genes. How old was your grandfather when he died?' 'Granddad? He's still alive. He's 110 and getting married next week.' 'Getting married at 110! Why does he want to get married at that age?' 'Oh, he doesn't want to get married. He has to!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,A Child's Thankfulness and Unthankfulness,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Johann Peter Hebel, 'Kindesdank und Undank,' Schatzkästlein des rheinischen Hausfreundes, 2nd edition (Stuttgart and Tübingen: J. G. Cotta'sche Buchhandlung, 1818), pp. 39-40. Source (Internet Archive): Johann Peter Hebel, 'Kindesdank und Undank,' Schatzkästlein des rheinischen Hausfreundes, 2nd edition (Stuttgart and Tübingen: J. G. Cotta'sche Buchhandlung, 1818), pp. 39-40.","However, not everything in the hospice met the old man's hopes. He asked his son, at the very least, to send him a pair of sheets so he would not have to sleep on bare straw. The son sought out the worst ones he had then told his ten-year old son to take them to the old grumble-head in the hospice. To his surprise he observed that his son hid one of the sheets in a corner then took just one of them to the grandfather. When the boy returned his father asked, 'Why did you do that?' 'I'm preparing for the future,' replied the boy coldly, 'when I send you to the hospice.' What do we learn from this? -- Honor your father and mother, so that later you yourself will be well treated.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,A Lesson for Fathers,India,Katamancari is also spelled Katha Manjari or Kathamanjari.,"'Stories from the Katamancari,' The Orientalist: A Monthly Journal, vol. 1, part 7 (July 1884), p. 166.","A rich man was in the habit of giving his old father kanji (rice-water) out of a broken pot. One day his little boy took this pot and hid it. Some time after, this hard-hearted man began to beat his father because he could not find the pot, whereupon the little boy called out, 'O father, don't beat my grandfather, for I have taken away the pot and hidden it. You know after I have become a great man I shall not buy any other pot for you.' Hearing this the man was ashamed, and from that day he provided every needful comfort for his father.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,A Wicked Man,Jacques de Vitry,"Link to the story in Latin: no. 288, p. 121. Jacques de Vitry (ca. 1160-1240) was a French theologian.","The Exempla; or, Illustrative Stories from the Sermones Vulgares of Jacques de Vitry, edited by Thomas Frederick Crane (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1890), no. 288, p. 260.","Summary A wicked man made his old father lie in a stable, and gave him a shabby cloak to wear. Now this wicked man had a son of his own who felt very sorry for the ill treatment his grandfather received, and going one day to his father, he said, 'Father, buy me a cloak.' His father answered, 'Have you not good clothes; what do you wish with it?' 'I shall keep it,' he rreplied, 'until you are old, and then I will give it to you, and do to you as you do to your father, who begot you and nourished you, and gave you all he had.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Don't Beat Grandfather,India,Rogers' source: The The Katha Manjari (also spelled Kathamanjari or Katamancari).,"H. T. Rogers First Lessons in Telugu: Comprising Twenty-Five Short Stories ... with Copious Notes and Translation (Madras: C. Foster and Company, 1889), no. 8, pp. vi-vii.","Thereupon the son exclaimed: 'Don't beat grandfather, for it was I who took it away and hid it, thinking that when I grow up I might not be able to get another potsherd to feed you with.' Upon this the rich man was covered with shame, and ever afterwards kept his father in comfort.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Half a Blanket,Germany,Freely translated by D. L. Ashliman into prose from a ballad entitled 'Das vierte Gebot' (The Fourth Commandment -- 'Honor your father and your mother ....') Von Arnim's and Brentano's source: an 'old manuscript.' This story has circulated throughout Europe since the middle ages.,"Ludwig Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano, 'Das vierte Gebot,' Des Knaben Wunderhorn: Alte deutsche Lieder, vol. 2 (Heidelberg: Mohr und Zimmer, 1808), pp. 269-70.","In France an old king, weak with age, gave his kingdom and all his lands to his son, who in return promised to personally care for him. Soon afterward the son took himself a wife, who did not like the father. Spitefully she said, 'The old man is always coughing at the table until it takes away all my pleasure in eating.' So to please her, the son gave his father a place to lie beneath the stairs. For many years he lay there on a bed of hay and straw like one they would make for the dogs. The queen gave birth to a son, who grew into a proud and virtuous lad. Recognizing the situation, he brought whatever food and drink he could find to his grandfather. One day the grandfather asked for an old horse blanket to protect him from the cold, and the virtuous youth ran off to fulfill his wish. In the stall he found a good horse blanket. He took it from the horse and ripped it in two. Seeing him, his father asked him what he was doing with the horse blanket. 'I am taking half of it for your father's bed,' he said. 'The other half I'll save for you when you are sleeping there where you now have your father locked in.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,How an Ungrateful Son Planned to Murder His Old Father,"India, The Jataka","The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, vol. 4, translated by W. H. D. Rouse (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1901), no. 446, pp. 27-31. The introduction and conclusion to this tale, not given here, make it clear that the wise boy featured in the story was the future Buddha in one of his many reincarnations.",NA,"Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was King of Benares, there was in a family of a certain village of Kasi an only son named Vasitthaka. This man supported his parents, and after his mother's death, he supported his father as has been described in the introduction. But there is this difference. When the woman [Vasitthaka's wife] said, 'Look there! That is your father's doing! I am constantly begging him not to do this and that, and he only gets angry!' she went on, 'My lord, your father is fierce and violent, forever picking quarrels. A decrepit old man like that, tormented with disease, is bound to die soon; and I can't live in the same house with him. He will die of himself before many days are out. Well, take him to a cemetery, and dig a pit, throw him in, and break his head with the spade; and when he is dead, shovel the earth upon him, and leave him there.' At last, by dint of this dinning in his ears, said he, 'Wife, to kill a man is a serious matter. How can I do it?' 'I will tell you of a way,' quoth she. 'Say on, then.' 'Well, my lord, at break of day, go to the place where your father sleeps. Tell him very loud, that all may hear, that a debtor of his is in a certain village, that you went and he would not pay you, and that if he dies the man will never pay at all. And say that you will both drive there together in the morning. Then at the appointed time get up, and put the animals to the cart, and take him in it to the cemetery. When you get there, bury him in a pit, make a noise as if you had been robbed, wound and wash your head, and return.' 'Yes, that plan will do,' said Vasitthaka. He agreed to her proposal, and got the cart ready for the journey. Now the man had a son, a lad of seven years, but wise and clever. The lad overheard what his mother said. 'My mother,' thought he, 'is a wicked woman, and is trying to persuade father to murder his father. I will prevent my father from doing this murder.' He ran quickly, and lay down beside his grandsire. Vasitthaka, at the time suggested by the wife, prepared the cart. 'Come, father, let us get that debt!' said he, and placed his father in the cart. But the boy got in first of all. Vasitthaka could not prevent him, so he took him to the cemetery with them. Then, placing his father and his son together in a place apart, with the cart, he got down, took spade and basket, and in a spot where he was hidden from them began to dig a square hole. The boy got down and followed him, and as though ignorant what was afoot, opened a conversation by repeating the first stanza: This his father answered by repeating the second stanza: Hearing this, the boy answered by repeating a half stanza: With these words, he caught the spade from his father's hands, and at no great distance began to dig another pit. His father approaching asked why he dug that pit, to whom he made reply by finishing the third stanza: To this the father replied by repeating the fourth stanza: When the father had thus spoken, the wise lad recited three stanzas, one by way of answer, and two as an holy hymn: The father, after hearing his son thus discourse, repeated the eighth stanza: Said the lad, when he heard this, 'Father, women, when a wrong is done and they are not rebuked, again and again commit sin. You must bend my mother, that she may never again do such a deed as this.' And he repeated the ninth stanza: Hearing the words of his wise son, well pleased was Vasitthaka, and saying, 'Let us go, my son!' he seated himself in the cart with son and father. Now the woman too, this sinner, was happy at heart; for, thought she, this ill-luck is out of the house now. She plastered the place with wet cow dung, and cooked a mess of rice porridge. But as she sat watching the road by which they would return, she espied them coming, 'There he is, back with old ill-luck again!' thought she, much in anger. 'Fie, good-for-nothing! cried she. 'What, bring back the ill-luck you took away with you!' Vasitthaka said not a word, but unyoked the cart. Then said he, 'Wretch, what is that you say?' He gave her a sound drubbing, and bundled her head over heels out of doors, bidding her never darken his door again. Then he bathed his father and his son, and took a bath himself, and the three of them ate the rice porridge. The sinful woman dwelt for a few days in another house. Then the son said to his father, 'Father, for all this, my mother does not understand. Now let us try to vex her. You give out that in such and such a village lives a niece of yours, who will attend upon your father and your son and you. So you will go and fetch her. Then take flowers and perfumes, and get into your cart, and ride about the country all day, returning in the evening.' And so he did. The women in the neighbor's family told his wife this. 'Have you heard,' said they, 'that your husband has gone to get another wife in such a place?' 'Ah, then I am undone!' quoth she, 'and there is no place for me left.' But she would inquire of her son. So quickly she came to him, and fell at his feet, crying, 'Save thee, I have no other refuge! Henceforward I will tend your father and grandsire as I would tend a beauteous shrine! Give me entrance into this house once more!' 'Yes, mother,' replied the lad, 'if you do no more as you did, I will. Be of good cheer!' And at his father's coming he repeated the tenth stanza: So said he to his father, and then went and summoned his mother. She, being reconciled to her husband and her husband's father, was thenceforward tamed, and endued with righteousness, and watched over her husband and his father and her son. And these two, steadfastly following their son's advice, gave alms and did good deeds, and became destined to join the hosts of heaven.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,La Housse Partie [The Divided Horse-Blanket],France,"Attributed to a medieval French author named Bernier. Link to the complete text of this tale: 'The Divided Blanket,' Tales from the Old French, translated by Isabel Butler (London: Constable and Company; Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1910), pp. 111-24.","Annie Lemp Konta, The History of French Literature from the Oath of Strasburg to Chanticler (New York and London: D. Appleton and Company, 1910), pp. 37-38.","A father, having given his estate to his son at the time of the young man's marriage, becomes a burden in his old age, whereupon his ungrateful daughter-in-law conspires to drive him forth. It is cold, and the old man begs that at least he shall be provided with a garment against the weather. The unnatural son sends his own young boy to fetch the horse-blanket, and the child returns with but half of it. 'Why did you cut it in two?' asks his father. To which the little one responds that he is keeping the other half for the day when he, too, will show his father the door. Whereupon the unnatural son repents, and full amends are made to the old man.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Let Him That Does Evil Expect Evil in Return,"Italy, Ortensio Lando","Roscoe's source: Varii Componimenti (Venice, 1552), novella 13. A modern idiomatic translation of Chi la fa, l'aspetta might be: 'What goes around comes around.'","Thomas Roscoe, The Italian Novelists: Selected from the Most Approved Authors in That Language, vol. 3, 2nd edition (London: W. Simpkin and R. Marshall, 1836), no. 13, pp. 35-37.","Riccardo Capponi, a noble Florentine, having devoted himself in early life to trade, in the course of time realized a very handsome property. When advanced in years, he took his son, Vincenti, into partnership, and not long after gave up his whole mercantile concern into his hands; and falling into a bad state of health, owing either to his great exertions, or to his subsequent high living, he became unable to leave the house. His son, Vincenti, who was of an extremely avaricious disposition, finding his father continued to linger much beyond the period his covetous and ungrateful heart would have assigned him, and unwilling longer to support him, took measures, under pretense of obtaining for him better medical advice than he could at home provide, to have him conveyed to the city hospital. Yet his affairs were then in a flourishing state; and everything that he possessed he owed to his unhappy parent, whose age and infirmities, whose tears and entreaties, he alike disregarded. This unnatural son could not, however, contrive to conduct the matter so secretly as to elude the observation and the reproaches of all classes of people in the city. He at first tried to impose, both upon his friends and the public, by the false representations which he set on foot; but finding these could not avail him, he resolved, in order the better to disarm the popular voice against him, to send his own children with little presents to their grandfather. On one occasion he gave to his eldest boy, about six years of age, two fine cambric shirts, desiring him, early the next morning, to take them carefully to his poor grandfather in the hospital. The little boy, with an expression of great respect and tenderness in his countenance, promised that he would do so; and on his return the next day, his father, calling him into his presence, inquired whether he had delivered them safe into the hands of his grandfather. 'I only gave him one, father,' replied the little boy. 'What!' exclaimed Vincenti, with an angry voice. 'Did I not tell you both were for your grandfather?' 'Yes,' returned the little fellow, with a steady and undaunted look, 'but I thought that I would keep one of them for you, father, against the time when I shall have to send you, I hope, to the hospital.' 'How!' exclaimed Vincenti, 'would you ever have the cruelty to send me there, my boy?' 'Why not?' retorted the lad; 'Let him that does evil, expect evil in return. For you know you made your own father go there, old and ailing as he is, and he never did you any harm in his life, and do you think I shall not send you, when I am able? Indeed, father, I am resolved that I will; for, as I have said before, let him that does evil, expect evil in return.' On hearing these words, Vincenti, giving signs of the utmost emotion, as if suddenly smitten by the hand of heaven, sorely repented of the heinous offence against humanity and justice which he had committed. He hastened himself to the hospital; he entreated his father's pardon on his knees, and had him conveyed instantly home; ever afterwards showing himself a gentle and obedient son, and frequently administering to his aged parent's wants with his own hands. This incident gave rise, throughout all Tuscany, to the well known proverb above mentioned, 'Let him that does evil, expect evil in return' (Chi la fa, l'aspetta); and from Tuscany it passed into many other parts of Italy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Of an Unnatural Son Who Fed His Aged Father upon Oats and Offal.,England,NA,"William Cobbett Advice to Young Men, and (Incidentally) to Young Women, in the Middle and Higher Ranks of Life (London: Published by the author, 1829), not paginated.","This, the author relates, pierced his heart; and, indeed, if this failed, he must have had the heart of a tiger.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Of the Old Man of Monmouth That Gave His Son All His Goods in His Lifetime,England,"Spelling modernized. Hazlitt's source: Pasquils Jests with Mother Bunches Merriments (various editions, dated 1604-1669). Link to another version of this tale: 'Of the olde man that put him selfe in his sonnes handes,' The Hundred Merry Tales; or, Shakspeare's Jest Book (London: J. Chidley, 1831), pp. 98-99.","W. Carew Hazlitt, 'Of the olde man of Monmouth, that gave his sonne all his goods in his life time,' Shakespeare Jest-Books (London: Willis and Sotheran, 1864), pp. 60-61.","After the deed of gift was made, awhile the old man sat at the upper end of the table; afterwards, they set him lower, about the middle of the table; next, at the table's end; and then, among the servants; and, last of all, they made him a couch behind the door and covered him with old sackcloth, where, with grief and sorrow, the old man died. When the old man was buried, the young man's eldest child said unto him, 'I pray you, father, give me this old sackcloth.' 'What wouldst thou do with it?' said his father. 'Forsooth,' said the boy, 'it shall serve to cover you, as it did my old grandfather.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Of the Old Man That Put Himself in His Son's Hands (Hundredtales),England,Spelling modernized.,"'Of the olde man that put him selfe in his sonnes handes,' The Hundred Merry Tales; or, Shakspeare's Jest Book (London: J. Chidley, 1831), pp. 98-99.","There was a certain old man, which let his son to marry, and to bring his wife and his children, to dwell with him, and to take all the house into his own hand and bidding. So a certain time the old man was set and kept the upper end of the table, afterward they set him lower, about the middle of the table, thirdly they set him at the nether end of the table, fourthly he was set among the servants, fifthly they made him a couch behind the hall door, and cast on him an old sackcloth. Not long after the old man died, when he was dead, the young man's son came to him and said, 'Father I pray you, give me this old sackcloth, that was wont to cover my grandfather.' 'What wouldst thou do with it?' said his father? 'Forsooth,' said the child, 'it shall serve to cover you when you be old, like as it did my grandfather.' At which words of the child this man ought to have been ashamed and sorry. For it is written: Son, reverence and help thy father in his old age, and make him not thoughtful and heavy in his life, and though he dote forgive it him. He that honoreth his father, shall live the longer, and shall rejoice in his own children. There was a certain old man which let his son to marry, and to bring his wife and his children to dwell with him, and to take all the house into his own hand and guiding; so a certain time the old man was set, and kept the upper end of the table; afterwards they set him lower, about the middle of the table; thirdly, they set him at the nether end of the table; fourthly, he was set among the servants; fifthly, they made him a couch behind the hall door, and cast on him an old sackcloth. Not long after, the old man died; when he was dead, the young man's son came to him, and said, 'father, I pray you give me this old sackcloth that was wont to cover my grand father.' 'What wouldst thou do with it?' said his father. 'Forsooth,' said the child, 'it shall serve to cover you when ye be old, like as it did my grandfather.' At which words of the child this man ought to have been ashamed and sorry; for it is written, 'son, reverence and help thy father in his old age, and make him not thoughtful and heavy in his life, and though he dotes, forgive him; he that honoureth his father shall live the longer, and shall rejoice in his own children.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Of the Old Man That Put Himself in His Son's Hands (Shakspearestales),England,Spelling modernized.,"Source (books.google.com): Shakspeare's Merry Tales (London: G. Routledge, 1845), no. 53, pp. 201-202. Source (Internet Archive): Shakspeare's Merry Tales (London: G. Routledge, 1845), no. 53, pp. 201-202. [Damaged copy.]","There was a certain old man, which let his son to marry, and to bring his wife and his children, to dwell with him, and to take all the house into his own hand and bidding. So a certain time the old man was set and kept the upper end of the table, afterward they set him lower, about the middle of the table, thirdly they set him at the nether end of the table, fourthly he was set among the servants, fifthly they made him a couch behind the hall door, and cast on him an old sackcloth. Not long after the old man died, when he was dead, the young man's son came to him and said, 'Father I pray you, give me this old sackcloth, that was wont to cover my grandfather.' 'What wouldst thou do with it?' said his father? 'Forsooth,' said the child, 'it shall serve to cover you when you be old, like as it did my grandfather.' At which words of the child this man ought to have been ashamed and sorry. For it is written: Son, reverence and help thy father in his old age, and make him not thoughtful and heavy in his life, and though he dote forgive it him. He that honoreth his father, shall live the longer, and shall rejoice in his own children. There was a certain old man which let his son to marry, and to bring his wife and his children to dwell with him, and to take all the house into his own hand and guiding; so a certain time the old man was set, and kept the upper end of the table; afterwards they set him lower, about the middle of the table; thirdly, they set him at the nether end of the table; fourthly, he was set among the servants; fifthly, they made him a couch behind the hall door, and cast on him an old sackcloth. Not long after, the old man died; when he was dead, the young man's son came to him, and said, 'father, I pray you give me this old sackcloth that was wont to cover my grand father.' 'What wouldst thou do with it?' said his father. 'Forsooth,' said the child, 'it shall serve to cover you when ye be old, like as it did my grandfather.' At which words of the child this man ought to have been ashamed and sorry; for it is written, 'son, reverence and help thy father in his old age, and make him not thoughtful and heavy in his life, and though he dotes, forgive him; he that honoureth his father shall live the longer, and shall rejoice in his own children.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Old Frühling,German,"Heinrich Stilling is a pseudonym for the German author Johann Heinrich Jung (1740-1817). Link to another translation of this account: The Life of John Henry Stilling, translated by E. L. Hazelius (Gettysburg: Press of the Theological Seminary, 1831), pp. 63-65. Link to the account in German: Johann Heinrich Jung's, genannt Stilling, sämmtliche Werke, vol. 1: Stilling's Lebensgeschichte (Stuttgart: J. Scheible's Buchhandlung, 1841), pp. 130-32.","The Autobiography of Heinrich Stilling, translated from the German by S. Jackson (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1844), p. 25.","After dinner Stilling assembled a number of children about him, went out with them into the fields, or to the edge of a brook, and then related to them all kinds of fine sentimental tales; and after his store was exhausted, others were obliged to do the same. Some of them were once together in a meadow, when a boy came to them, who began as follows: Hear me, children! I will tell you something. Near us lives old Frühling; you know how he totters about with his stick; be has no longer any teeth, and he cannot see or hear much. Now, when he sits at the dinner table, and trembles in such a manner, he always scatters much, and sometimes something falls out of his mouth again. This disgusted his son and his daughter-in-law; and, therefore, the old grandfather was at length obliged to eat in the corner, behind the stove; they gave him something to eat in an earthen dish, and that often not enough to satisfy him. I have seen him eating; and he looked so sad after dinner, and his eyes were wet with tears. Well, the day before yesterday he broke his earthen dish. The young woman scolded him severely, but he said nothing, and only sighed. They then bought him a wooden dish for a couple of farthings, and he was obliged to eat out of it yesterday for the first time. Whilst they were sitting thus at dinner, their little boy, who is three years and a half old, began to gather little boards together on the floor. Young Frühling said to him, 'What are you doing there, Peter?' 'Oh,' said the child, 'I am making a little trough, out of which my father and mother shall eat when I am grown up.' Young Frühling and his wife looked at each other awhile; at length they began to weep, and immediately fetched the old grandfather to the table, and let him eat with them. The children sprang up, clapped their hands, and cried out, 'That is very pretty. Did little Peter say so?' 'Yes,' rejoined the boy, 'I stood by when it happened.' Heinrich Stilling, however, did not laugh. He stood still, and looked down. The tale penetrated through him, even to his inmost soul. At length he began: 'I believe if that had happened to my grandfather, he would have risen up from his wooden dish, gone into a corner of the room, and, having placed himself there, would have exclaimed, 'Lord, strengthen me at this time, that I may avenge myself of these Philistines!' He would then have laid hold of the corner posts, and have pulled the house down about them.' 'Gently, gently, Stilling!' said one of the tallest of the boys to him. 'That would have been a little too bad of your grandfather.' 'You are in the right,' said Heinrich; 'but only think how Satanic it was! How often may old Frühling have had his boy in his lap, and put the best morsels into his mouth! It would not have been wonderful if some fiery dragon, at midnight, when the first quarter of the moon had just set, had hurled itself down the chimney of such a house, and poisoned all the food.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Respect Old Age,Philippines,"Fansler's source: 'Narrated by José Ignacio, a Tagalog from Malabon, Rizal.'","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 34a, p. 271.","One rainy morning the husband was forced by his wife to send his father away. He called his son, and ordered him to carry a basket full of food and also a blanket. He told the boy that they were to leave the old man in a hut on their farm some distance away. The boy wept, and protested against this harsh treatment of his grandfather, but in vain. He then cut the blanket into two parts. When he was asked to explain his action, he said to his father, 'When you grow old, I will leave you in a hut, and give you this half of the blanket.' The man was astonished, hurriedly recalled his order concerning his father, and thereafter took good care of him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,The Divided Horse-Blanket,France,NA,"Tales from the Old French, translated by Isabel Butler (London: Constable and Company; Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1910), pp. 111-24.","In goodly words and speech, it behooves every man, as best he may, to show and relate and tell clearly in the common tongue the adventures that befall in this world. For as a man goeth to and fro he heareth many a thing told that is good to tell again; and those who know and may venture the emprise, should give to it all care and heed and study, even as did those who came before us, the good masters of old time; for they who would live hereafter must be no wise idle. But in these present days, which are evil, men grow slothful, wherefore now the gentle minstrels will venture little; for know ye of a sooth it is no light thing to tell a goodly tale. Now will I show you an adventure that befell some seventeen years agone, or twenty mayhap. A rich man of Abbeville, well garnished with goods and gold, departed out of his town, both he and his wife and his son, because he had come into dispute with folk that were greater and stronger than he, and much he feared and dreaded to abide among his enemies. So from Abbeville he came unto Paris. There he lived peacefully, and did homage to the king and became his liegeman and burgess. Now inasmuch as the good man was discreet and courteous, and his dame of good disport, and the lad showed himself no wise foolish or discourteous or ill-taught, the neighbors in the street wherein they came to dwell were full glad of them, and often visited them and did them much honour. So many a one with no great endeavour on his part may make himself well loved, and by mere fair and pleasant speech win much praise of all; for whoso speaketh fair, getteth a fair answer, and whoso speaketh ill or doth ill, must perforce win evil for himself again; even so is it ofttimes seen and known, and the proverb saith, 'Ye shall know the master by his works.' So for seven years and more the good man lived at Paris, and bought and sold such goods as came in his way; and he so bartered here and there that always he saved what he had, and added somewhat more thereto. So he traded prosperously and lived plenteously until he lost his companion, whenas God wrought his will in the wife who had been his fellow for thirty years. No other child had they save the youth of whom I have told you, who now at his father's side was all woful and discomforted; often he swooned for grief and wept, and sorely he lamented the mother who had reared him full softly. But his father comforted him, saying: 'Fair son, now thy mother is dead, let us pray God that he grant her pardon. Wipe thine eyes and dry thy face for nought will tears avail thee; know of a sooth we must needs all die, all must pass by the same road; none can thwart death, and from death there is no return. Yet is there comfort for thee, fair son, for thou art growing a comely youth, and art near of an age to marry; whereas I am waxing old. If I can compass for thee a union with persons of high estate, I will part with good share of my havings; for thy friends are afar off and no wise speedily couldst thou come by them at need, none hast thou in this land and if thou dost not win them by thine own might. Now if I may but find a dame well born and rich in kindred and friends, who hath brethren and uncles and aunts and cousins germain, of good lineage and of good estate, I would help thee to win that which would profit thee, nor would I forbear on the score of my moneys.' Now, lordings, the story telleth us there were in that same land three knights who were brethren. On both father's side and mother's side they came of high parentage, and they were of much worship and honour in arms, but all their inheritance had been put in pawn, lands and forests and holdings, that they might follow tourneys; three thousand pounds at usury had they borrowed on their inheritance, whereby they were sore tormented. Now the eldest had a daughter born of his wife who was no longer living, and from her mother the damsel held a goodly house in Paris, face to face with the dwelling of the burgess of whom I have told you. This house did not pertain to the father, and the friends of the mother took good heed that he put it not in pawn, inasmuch as the rent thereof was reckoned at forty pounds of Paris, nor had he ever been at any pain or trouble for the ingathering of this sum. Now because this damsel, by reason of her kin, had friends and power, the good man sought her in marriage of her father and friends. The knights questioned him of his goods and havings, how great they might be, and readily he answered them: 'What in chatel and what in moneys I have of pounds one thousand and five hundred; I were but a liar and if I boasted me of more, and at the most I would add thereto one hundred pounds of Paris; honourably have I come by my fortune, and the half thereof am I ready to give over to my son.' But the knights made answer: 'This we may not agree to, fair sir; for if you were to become a templar or a white monk or a black monk, anon you would leave all your havings to the temple or the monastery; wherefore no such covenant will we make with you; no, sir, no, in faith, fair sir.' 'What other covenant then, tell me now I pray you.' 'Right gladly, fair, dear sir,' quoth they. 'Whatsoever ye can render, we would that you should give your son outright, that you should make over all to him, and that he should be so invested therein that neither you, nor any other, may in any manner dispute it with him. And if ye will agree to this, the marriage shall be made, but other wise we would not that your son should have our daughter and niece.' The good man bethought him for a space, and looked at his son; still he pondered, but little good did his thought bring him, for soon he answered them, saying: 'Sirs, whatsoever ye demand even that will I fulfil, but it shall be on this covenant: let my son take your daughter to wife, and I will give to him all that is mine, and since ye will so have it that I withhold nothing, let him receive all and take it for his own, for with it I endow and invest him.' So the good man stripped himself bare, and before all the folk there gathered, disinvested and disinherited himself of all that he had in the world; so was he left bare as a peeled wand, for, and if his son did not give it him, he had neither chatel nor denier with which to buy his bread. All he gave him and declared him free of all; and when the word was spoken, the knight straightway took his daughter by the hand and gave her to the young man, who forthwith espoused her. So for two years thereafter they lived content and at peace as husband and wife, at which time, meseemeth, the lady bore a fair son to the young master; heedfully was he reared and cherished, and the lady likewise was dearly cared for, and often went to the bath and enjoyed much ease. And still the good man abode with them, but he had done himself a mortal hurt when he stripped himself bare of all that he had to live at another's mercy. Yet for twelve years and over he dwelt in that house, until such time as the child was well grown and of wit to see what passed about him. Often he heard told what his grandfather had done for his father who thereby had espoused the dame his wife, and ever the child kept it in his memory. Meantime the good man had waxed in years, and age had so weakened him that now he must needs support himself with a staff; and right liefly would his son have bought his winding sheet, for it seemed to him the old man had tarried over late above ground, and his long life was grievous to him. And the wife, who was full of pride and disdain, could not let be, but held the good man always in despite, and bore him such malice that she could not withhold her from saying to her lord: 'Sir, for love's sake I pray you send hence your father, for by the faith I owe my mother's soul, so long as I know him to be in this house, no morsel shall pass my lips, for full fain am I that ye drive him hence.' 'Dame,' said he in answer, 'even so will I do.' So, for that he feared and doubted his wife, he went to his father and said to him forthright: 'Father, father, now get thee gone, for I tell thee here is nought to make or mend with thee or with thy lodging; for these twelve years and over hath meat been given thee here in this hostel, but now rise up and that speedily; go seek other lodging, wheresoever else ye may find it, for so it must needs be.' At these words the father wept full sorely, and often he cursed the day and the hour in that he had lived so long in the world. 'Ah, fair, sweet son, what sayest thou? For God's sake do me so much honour that ye suffer me to abide within thy gates; no great place do I need for my bed, nor will I crave of thee fire or carpet or rich coverlet, but let there be spread for me a few handfuls of straw beneath the pent-house without there. Never cast me out from thy house for reason that I eat of thy bread; that my bed be made without yonder irketh me not, if ye do but grant me my victual, but nowise should ye deny me wherewithal to live; and soothly, if thou shouldst wear the hair, thou shalt not so well expiate thy sins as if thou dost some comfort to me.' 'Fair father,' quoth the young man, 'sermon me no sermons, but make haste and get thee gone, lest my wife goeth out of her wit.' 'Where would ye that I should turn, fair son, I that have not so much as a farthing in the world?' 'Go ye out into the city wherein there are a good ten thousand that seek and find whereby to live; each one there abideth his adventure; great mischance it were and if you likewise did not find sustenance; and many a one that hath acquaintance with you will lend you hostel.' 'Lend me, son? Will chance folk so do, when thou thyself deniest me thine house? Since thou wilt give me no comfort, how should those that are nought to me grant me anything ungrudgingly, when thou that art my son, failest me?' 'Father,' quoth he, 'no more can I do herein, and I take upon me all the burden; know ye that this is my will.' Thereat was his father so in dole that his heart was near to bursting, and weak as he was, he riseth and goeth out of the house, weeping. 'Son,' said he, 'I commend thee to God. But since ye are fain of my going, in God's name, give me a fragment of a strip of thy coverlet -- no very precious thing is that -- for in truth I am so scantly clad I may not endure the cold, and it is from this I most suffer; wherefore I ask of thee wherewith to cover me withal.' But his son, who ever shrank from giving, made answer: 'Father, I have none; this is not the season of gifts, and none shall ye get at this time, and if I am not robbed and pillaged.' 'But fair, sweet son, all my body is a-tremble and greatly do I doubt the cold; do but give me such a covering as thou usest for thy horse, that the frost may do me no hurt.' And the young man who was fain of his departure, saw that he could not be quit of him and if he did not grant him somewhat; so, for that he desired to be rid of him, he bade his son give the old man what he asked. The child sprang up when he was called, 'And what is your will, sir?' asked he. 'Fair son,' quoth the young master, 'I would that if ye find the stable door open, ye give my father the blanket that is upon my black horse; give him the best, and if it be his will, he may make of it a covering or cloak or capuchon.' 'Fair grandfather, now come with me,' said the child who was ready of wit. So the good man all in anger and sorrow departed with him. The child found the covering, and he took the newest and the best, the biggest and the widest, and folded it adown the middle, and as fair and even as he might, cut it atwain with his knife, and gave the half thereof to his grandfather. 'Fair boy,' quoth the old man, 'what would ye? Thy father hath given the cloak to me, wherefore then hast thou cut it atwain? Herein hast thou done a great wrong, for thy father had commanded that I should have it whole and undivided, so now will I go my ways back to him again.' 'Go wheresoever it pleaseth you, for no more shall you get of me,' saith the boy. So the good man issued out of the stable. 'Son,' quoth he, 'all thy sayings and doings are as nought. Why dost thou not chastise thy son that he may hold thee in fear and dread? See ye not, he hath kept back one half of the blanket?' 'Foul fall thee, boy,' saith the young master, 'now give him the whole thereof.' 'Certes, that will I not,' quoth the child, 'for then how would you be paid? This half will I lay by for you, and no more shall ye get from me. And when I come to the mastery here, I will turn you out, even as you now turn him. And as he gave you all he had, so I would fain have all, and you shall take from me only just so much as you now give him. And if it so be that ye let him die in want, even so will I let you, and if I live.' The young man heareth him, and deeply he sigheth, and bethinketh and questioneth himself; great heed he gave to the words of the child. Then he turneth his eyes to his father, and saith: 'Father, come hither again; it was sin and the devil that laid an ambush for me, but please God, this shall not be; rather I will make you from this day forth lord and master in my house. And if my wife will not keep peace, and if she will not suffer you, ye shall be served elsewhere. Hereafter, pillow and rich coverlet shall be given you for your ease, and I pledge you by Saint Martin, that I will never drink wine nor eat a rich morsel, but you shall have a better; and you shall dwell in a cieled chamber, and keep a good fire in the chimney place; and garments shall ye have, like unto mine. For ye dealt fairly by me, sweet father, and if I am now rich and puissant, it is by reason of thy silver.' This tale showeth clear and beareth witness how the child turned his father from his ill intent. And moreover all they who have marriageable children should give heed to it. Do not after the manner of the good man, and when you are foremost, yield not up your place; give not so much to your son but that ye may recover somewhat again; set not your trust in him, for children are without pity, and speedily they weary of the father that waxeth helpless; and whoso falleth into the power of another in this world liveth in great torment. And he who liveth at the mercy of another, and looketh to another for his very sustenance, should be to you as a warning. Bernier told this ensample that teacheth so goodly matter, and of it he made what he might.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,The Golden Rule,Philippines,"Fansler's source: 'Narrated by Cipriano Seráfice, a Pangasinan from Mangaldan, Pangasinan.'","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 34b, p. 271.","When the grandson noticed what his father had done, he took some tools and went down under the house. There he took a piece of board and began to carve it. When his father saw him and said to him, 'What are you doing, son?' the boy replied to him, 'Father, I am making wooden plates for you and my mother when you are old.' As the son uttered these words, tears gushed from the father's eyes. From that time on, the old man was always allowed to eat at the table with the rest of the family, nor was he made to eat from a wooden plate.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,The Old Grandfather and His Grandson,Germany,"Translated by D. L. Ashliman. This translation is based on the Grimms' first edition (1812), which is stylistically somewhat different from their final edition (1857). Link to the Grimms' final version: Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der alte Großvater und der Enkel,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 7th edition, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 78, p. 398.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der alte Großvater und der Enkel,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st edition (Berlin: In der Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 78, pp. 355-56.","Once upon a time there was an old man who could hardly walk. His knees shook. He could not hear or see very well, and he did not have any teeth left. When he sat at the table, he could scarcely hold a spoon. He spilled soup on the tablecloth, and, beside that, some of his soup would run back out of his mouth. His son and his son's wife were disgusted with this, so finally they made the old grandfather sit in the corner behind the stove, where they gave him his food in an earthenware bowl, and not enough at that. He sat there looking sadly at the table, and his eyes grew moist. One day his shaking hands could not hold the bowl, and it fell to the ground and broke. The young woman scolded, but he said not a word. He only sobbed. Then for a few hellers they bought him a wooden bowl and made him eat from it. Once when they were all sitting there, the little grandson of four years pushed some pieces of wood together on the floor. 'What are you making?' asked his father. 'Oh, I'm making a little trough for you and mother to eat from when I'm big.' The man and the woman looked at one another and then began to cry. They immediately brought the old grandfather to the table, and always let him eat there from then on. And if he spilled a little, they did not say a thing.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,"The Old Man, His Son, and His Grandson",Philippines,"Fansler's source: 'Narrated by Eutiquiano Garcia of Mexico, Pampanga.... Mr. Garcia says that he heard the story told by his father at a gathering of a number of old storytellers at his home during the Christmas vacation in 1908.'","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 34b, p. 272.","In olden times, when men lived to be two or three hundred years old, there dwelt a very poor family near a big forest. The household had but three members: a grandfather, a father, and a son. The grandfather was an old man of one hundred and twenty-five years. He was so old, that the help of his housemates was needed to feed him. Many a time, and especially after meals, he related to his son and his grandson his brave deeds while serving in the king's army, the responsible positions he filled after leaving a soldier's life; and he told entertaining stories of hundreds of years gone by. The father was not satisfied with the arrangement, however, and planned to get rid of the old man. One day he said to his son, 'At present I am receiving a peso daily, but half of it is spent to feed your worthless grandfather. We do not get any real benefit from him. Tomorrow let us bind him and take him to the woods, and leave him there to die.' 'Yes, father,' said the boy. When the morning came, they bound the old man and took him to the forest. On their way back home the boy said to his father, 'Wait! I will go back and get the rope.' 'What for?' asked his father, raising his voice. 'To have it ready when your turn comes,' replied the boy, believing that to cast every old man into the forest was the usual custom. 'Ah! If that is likely to be the case with me, back we go and get your grandfather again.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,The Son Forgave His Father,Albania,"fairy tales, and mythology.","Source (books.google.com): J. U. Jarnik, 'Der Sohn verzieh dem Vater,' Albanesische Märchen und Schwänke, Zeitschrift für Volkskunde in Sage und Mär, Schwank und Streich, Lied, Rätsel und Sprichwort, Sitte und Brauch, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Alfred Dörffel, 1890), p. 347. Source (Internet Archive): J. U. Jarnik, 'Der Sohn verzieh dem Vater,' Albanesische Märchen und Schwänke, Zeitschrift für Volkskunde in Sage und Mär, Schwank und Streich, Lied, Rätsel und Sprichwort, Sitte und Brauch, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Alfred Dörffel, 1890), p. 347.","In olden times it was the custom in a certain town that when the master of the house became old his son had to take him away and drown him. A young man's father became old, and he said to his father, 'come with me. The time has come for you to be drowned.' The poor old man followed along and the son led him to a hill. He was about to push him into the water when the old man said to him, 'Son, don't drown me at this place, for this is where I drowned my father.' Hearing this, the young man thought, 'He drowned his father just as I am about to drown him, and in the same manner my son will drown me.' Thus he forgave his father and did not drown him. The entire town heard what had happened to the old man and swore never again to drown their old men. See also Aging and Death in Folklore. An essay by D. L. Ashliman, with supporting texts from proverbs, folktales, and myths from around the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980,Two Ells of Cloth,Germany,Johannes Pauli was born about 1455 and died sometime after 1530.,"Source (books.google.com): Johannes Pauli, 'Uf ein mal het ein vatter seinem sun all sein gut geben,' Schimpf und Ernst, edited by Hermann Österley (Stuttgart: Gedruckt auf Kosten des Litterarischen Vereins, 1866), no. 436, pp. 260-61. Source (Internet Archive): Johannes Pauli, 'Uf ein mal het ein vatter seinem sun all sein gut geben,' Schimpf und Ernst (Stuttgart: Gedruckt auf Kosten des Litterarischen Vereins, 1866), no. 436, pp. 260-61. Source in modern German (books.google.com): Karl Simrock, Schimpf und Ernst nach Johannes Pauli (Heilbronn: Verlag von Gebr. Henninger, 1876), no. 335, p. 256.","A father had turned over his entire fortune to his son, but afterward the son thought nothing about his father's needs. The father asked the son to have a coat made for him. Instead, the son gave his father two ells of cloth and told the father to use the cloth to patch his old coat. Now the son himself had a three-year old child who came crying to him and said, 'Father give me two ells of cloth as well.' The father gave them to him. Then the child climbed into the attic where he hid the cloth. The father crept after the child to see what he was doing with the cloth. He said to the child, 'Why did you put the cloth up here?' The child said, 'I want to keep it until you are old, then I will give it to you to patch your coat with, just as you have done with my grandfather.' Then the son corrected his ways.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980D,A Terrifying Judgment of God,Croatia,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Oskar Dähnhardt, Natursagen: Eine Sammlung naturdeutender Sagen, Märchen, Fabeln und Legenden, vol. 4, part 2 (Leipzig and Berlin: B. G. Teubner, 1912), p. 264.","In the year 1453 a terrifying judgment of God happened in the Istrian town of Motovun. An evil and undisciplined son had a good, old father who was very poor. He often had neither bread nor wine at home, and no one gave him alms. Sometimes he would go to his son and knock on the door. His son's wife would say, 'Look, it's your father.' The son would answer, 'What in the devil's name does he want? Let him in and give him a little bread and some watered wine like they give to children.' Thus it happened several times, and the old man patiently accepted this treatment. One day the son bought a good capon. They prepared it and sat down at the table to eat while it was still warm. The mean-spirited wife, prompted by the devil, said, 'If only your father won't come by just now!' The son said, 'I hope that we can eat the capon without being disturbed.' Suddenly someone knocked on the door. The son looked out -- it was his father. 'Curses that just now I have to open the door for him!' said the son. He quickly hid the capon in a chest. He gave the poor old man a little bread and cheese and a little wine, told him to eat quickly, and then sent him home. The father had scarcely left when the son went to the chest to fetch the capon. He lifted the lid. A large, terrible toad jumped out and into the son's face. Neither physicians nor medications could free him from it. The toad ate away his entire face so that he no longer could show himself to anyone.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980D,The Origin of the Turtle,Russia,"Source (Internet Archive): Oskar Dähnhardt, Natursagen: Eine Sammlung naturdeutender Sagen, Märchen, Fabeln und Legenden, vol. 4, part 2 (Leipzig and Berlin: B. G. Teubner, 1912), p. 264.","Source (Internet Archive): Oskar Dähnhardt, Natursagen: Eine Sammlung naturdeutender Sagen, Märchen, Fabeln und Legenden, vol. 4, part 2 (Leipzig and Berlin: B. G. Teubner, 1912), p. 264.","A mother came to visit her married daughter. Through the window the daughter saw her coming, and with another plate she quickly covered the roasted chicken that she and her husband were eating, then hid it so they would not have to share it with the mother. The mother sat for a while and then went away without being offered anything to eat. The daughter immediately fetched the chicken to continue eating it. But when she tried to pick up the top plate it had grown onto the roast. In an instant the chicken and the two plates had been transformed into a turtle. Thus the turtle came into being.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980D,The Snake around His Neck,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Johannes Wilhelm Wolf, 'Die Schlange am Halse,' Deutsche Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1845), no. 35, pp. 153-54. Source (Internet Archive): Johannes Wilhelm Wolf, 'Die Schlange am Halse,' Deutsche Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1845), no. 35, pp. 153-54.","Once there was a mother who gave all her property to her son, thinking that he was pious and good and would therefor treat her fairly. No! We should not give everything away before we die. After the son had taken possession of everything he got married, and his poor mother had to fend for herself. One day he was seated at the table with his wife. Before them they had a roasted chicken. The mother knocked on the door. He quickly called to his servant, 'Hide the chicken in the chest until the old woman has left.' The servant did just that. The hungry old mother came in. When she asked for a scrap of bread he sent her on her away with curse words. When she was gone he said to his servant, 'Now go and bring the chicken back here.' The servant went to the chest, but instead of a chicken lying on the plate there was a large snake. You can well imagine how the frightened servant cried out loud. The son did not want to believe that anything was wrong, so he sent the maid to the chest, but she too cried out and ran away. Then he became angry and said, 'If the devil himself is on that plate, I shall fetch him.' He went to the chest, opened it, and the snake jumped out and wrapped itself around his neck. From that time onward it ate with him and drank with him. And if the son refused to give it food, or if he attempted to take it off his neck, the snake pressed against him until he thought he would suffocate. He had to manage with the snake around his neck wherever he went, and all because he had treated his mother so badly.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980D,The Ungrateful Daughter,Ukraine,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Oskar Dähnhardt, Natursagen: Eine Sammlung naturdeutender Sagen, Märchen, Fabeln und Legenden, vol. 4, part 2 (Leipzig and Berlin: B. G. Teubner, 1912), p. 264.","An old mother came to visit her daughter. The daughter saw her coming and picked up a roasted chichen that she and her husband were about to eat. Covering it with a platter she hid the chicken in another room. The mother sat for a while and then returned to her own home. She had scarcely left when the daughter and her husband carried the chicken back to their table. But when they looked beneath the cover, it was a turtle. Thus the turtle, like the chicken between two platters, has a hard shell below and one above.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980D,The Ungrateful Son (Ashliman),Europe,"Retold from varous European sources, including texts by Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof, Johannes Pauli, and Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm .",NA,"The old man, it seemed, always visited his son just at mealtime. 'You needn't fix anything for me,' he would say, looking hungrily on as the others prepared to eat. Of course they had to give him something. 'This has to stop,' said the old man's son on a day when they had killed a chicken for a special feast. 'If the old man comes today, we will hide the pot.' As expected, the old man knocked at the door just before mealtime. Hurriedly they hid the pot with the chicken, then acted as if they knew nothing of a forthcoming meal. The old man sniffed in the air, said something about the good smell, looked about, then seeing nothing to eat, he took leave and returned to his own house. 'Now we can eat!' said the man, bringing the pot from its hiding place and taking off the lid. But to his terror, the chicken turned into a hideous toad before his very eyes. It jumped into his face, attaching itself firmly, and it did not come off as long as the man lived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
980D,The Ungrateful Son (Luther),Martin Luther,Luther's Tischreden (Table Talks) were compiled by his students and first published in 1566.,"Source (books.google.com): D. Martin Luther's Tischreden oder Colloquia, edited by Karl Eduard Förstemann, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Gebauersche Buchhandlung, 1844), no. 73, pp. 206-207. Source (Internet Archive): D. Martin Luther's Tischreden oder Colloquia, edited by Karl Eduard Förstemann, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Gebauersche Buchhandlung, 1844), no. 73, pp. 206-207.","After he had been with a child for one week they would say to him, 'Now you should go somewhere else and eat there for the same amount of time.' Once the father happened to come to a son who was just sitting down to eat a goose. On seeing his father, the son hid the goose under the table. After the father left, the son wanted to pick up the goose, but it had turned into a toad. The toad jumped into the son's face and ate its way into his flesh until he could not free himself from it. It stuck fast to him and devoured everything that the son tried to eat until he starved to death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,A Blessed and Happie People,Pliny the Elder,Pliny the Elder (23-79 AD) was a Roman encyclopedist.,"Source (books.google.com): Pliny the Elder, The Historie of the World: Commonly called, The Naturall Historie of C. Plinius Secundus, translated into English by Philemon Holland (London: Printed by Adam Islip, 1601), book 4, ch. 12, p. 84. Source (Internet Archive): Pliny the Elder, The Historie of the World: Commonly called, The Naturall Historie of C. Plinius Secundus, translated into English by Philemon Holland (London: Printed by Adam Islip, 1634), book 4, ch. 12, p. 84.","Beyond the North pole there is a blessed and happie people (if wee may beleeve it) whom they call Hyperborei, who live exceeding long, and many fabulous and strange wonders are reported of them.... The countrey is open upon the Sunne, of a blissefull and pleasant temperature, void of all noisome wind and hurtfull aire. Their habitations be in woods and groves, where they worship the gods both by themselves, and in companies and congregations; no discord know they; no sicknesse are they acquainted with. They never die, but when they have lived long enough: for when the aged men have made good cheere, and annointed their bodies with sweet ointments, they leape from off a certaine rocke into the sea. This kind of sepulture, of all others is most happie.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,A Story from the Time of the Romans,Romania (Transylvania),"Gaster's source: Arthur and Albert Schott, Walachische Mährchen (Stuttgart and Tübingen: J. G. Cotta'scher Verlag, 1845, p. 152. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 981.","M. Gaster, Folk-Lore: A Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Institution, and Custom (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1919), v. 30, pp. 136-138.","In olden times it was the custom to kill the old people because they were considered useless. A young man did not have the heart to kill his old father, but as he stood in fear of the others, he hid his father in the cellar in an empty cask. He gave him food and drink secretly, so that not a soul was able to discover his secret. There came suddenly the order that all men capable of bearing arms should get ready to fight a terrible monster which was spreading round its lair misery and trouble. The pious son did not know how to provide during his absence for the imprisoned father, so that he should not die of thirst and hunger. He brought all the victuals that were in the house, and he told his father of his trouble, inasmuch as he might never return, and that his beloved father would in consequence die a miserable death. The old man replied, 'Should you not return, I willingly give up my wretched body to death. In order, however, that you should not die through this monster, listen to my advice. It will be a help to you. The cavern in which that monster lives has many hundred passages and corners which are crossing and re-crossing one another, so that even if you should succeed in killing the monster, you would never be able to find the way out, and you will all die of hunger and thirst. Take therefore our black mare with her foal with you to the mouth of the cave and there kill and bury the foal and take the mare with you. She is sure to bring you back after you have killed the monster.' After the old man had thus spoken, the young man took leave of him with tears in his eyes and went away with the other men. They arrived at the mouth of the cave. He killed the foal as his father had advised him, but he did not tell the others why he did so. After a heavy fight they succeeded at last in killing the monster, but fear seized upon the warriors when they discovered that in spite of much searching they could not find the way out. Then the young man took the black mare and let her go on. He followed her and asked the others to follow him. The mare started neighing and looking for her foal and hit at once upon the right path, and after a while they reached the mouth of the cave. When the others saw that they had escaped an inevitable death through the cleverness of their brother in arms, they wanted to know how he came to discover this happy device. He feared that if he told the truth both he and his old father would lose their lives. But after they had promised him under oath that no harm would befall him, he spoke out firmly and told them that he had kept his father alive in the cellar and that his father had given him the advice about the mare when he went to take leave of On hearing this they were astounded, and one of them exclaimed, 'Our forefathers have not acted well in teaching us to kill the old men. They have gained experience and they can help our people by their advice when the strength of our arm fails.' Tradition, Institution, and Custom (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1919), v. 30, pp. 136-138. Mährchen (Stuttgart and Tübingen: J. G. Cotta'scher Verlag, 1845, p. 152.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,A Wendish Legend,Germany / Poland,Translated by D. L. Ashliman. Lausitz (Lusatia) is a historical region in today's southeast Germany and western Poland.,"Karl Haupt, 'Von der Grausamkeit der Wenden,' Sagenbuch der Lausitz, v. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1863), p. 9.","For example: Herr Levin von Schulenburg, a high official in Altmark, was traveling among the Wends in about 1580 when he saw an old man being led away by several people. 'Where are you going with the old man?' he asked, and received the answer, 'To God!' They were going to sacrifice him to God, because he was no longer able to earn his own sustenance. When the official grasped what was happening, he forced them to turn the old man over to him. He took him home with him and hired him as a gatekeeper, a position that he held for twenty additional years.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,An Irish Deathbed Scene,Ireland,"Aging and Death in Folklore. An essay by D. L. Ashliman, with supporting texts from proverbs, folktales, and myths from around the world. D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.","Source (books.google.com): Notes and Queries (May 21, 1859), pp. 414-415. Source (Internet Archive): Notes and Queries (May 21, 1859), pp. 414-415.","In the year of grace 1793, an aged peasant, whose cabin neighboured my then residence, lay in extremis, lovingly tended by his wife and daughter. The Christmas Eve was nearing its close, and they religiously believed that, should he pass away at its synchronism with the Christmas morning, he would escape purgatory, and directly enter paradise. The church clock began to strike twelve. The wife took the bolster from under the dying man's head and pressed it down on his face; the daughter seated herself on his breast; and their purpose accomplished; no secret being made of the deed -- no wonder manifested -- no notice taken. Was this murder? So far from possessing murder's primary condition -- malice -- it was done in all affection and piety. The husband and father could not survive another hour; a moment's quickened suffering would secure to him (so the simple women imagined) a painless eternity. Can anybody tell me the origin of this superstition, which brings to one's mind the more gentle influence of Christmas Tide, as described in Hamlet? Juverna. An essay by D. L. Ashliman, with supporting texts from proverbs, folktales, and myths from around the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,"Duck Under, Duck Under",Germany / Poland,Translated by D. L. Ashliman.,"Source (books.google.com): Johann Friedrich Schütze, 'Duuk ünner, duuk ünner,' Holsteinisches Idiotikon: Ein beitrag zur Volkssittengeschichte (Hamburg: Heinrich Ludwig Villaume, 1800), p. 267. Source (Internet Archive): Johann Friedrich Schütze, 'Duuk ünner, duuk ünner,' Holsteinisches Idiotikon: Ein beitrag zur Volkssittengeschichte (Hamburg: Heinrich Ludwig Villaume, 1800), p. 267.","Not too many years ago Gypsies would pass through Holstein and then set up their camp in the marshland near Kolmar [Chodzież]. According to legend they would drown their very old people who were no longer able to keep up with them and were only useless burdens. As they pushed them alive under the water they would chant this verse: Duuk ünner, duuk ünner; De Weld is di gramm. Duck under, duck under; The world is misery for you.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,Gillings Bluff,Iceland,Link to the Wikipedia article Gautrek's Saga.,"Source (Ancestry): Gautrek's Saga, ch. 1.","There's a precipice called Gillings Bluff near the farm, and we call its peak Family Cliff. The drop's so great there's not a living creature could ever survive it. It's called Family Cliff simply because we use it to cut down the size of our family whenever something extraordinary happens, and in this way our elders are allowed to die straight off without having to suffer any illnesses. And then they can go straight to Odin, while their children are spared all the trouble and expense of having to take care of them. Every member of our family is free to use this facility offered by the cliff, so there's no need for any of us to live in famine or poverty, or put up with other misfortunes that might happen to us.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,Grandfather and Grandson,Serbia,"Georgevitch does not give this legend a title. Title provided by D. L. Ashliman. This story was first published 1900 in Kazadzic, a journal of Serbian folklore. It was submitted by Mr. P. Variljevic from the village of Krepoljin in eastern Serbia, in the district of Omolje. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 981.","T. R. Georgevitch, Folk-Lore: A Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Institution, and Custom (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1918), v. 29, pp. 239-241.","On the right bank of the river Mlava, near the village of Krepoljin, is situated a very high hill, Gradatr (Fort) by name, on which one can see the ruins of an old disabled and deserted fort. The popular tradition says that it was once a Roman or Latin fort. The Romans who occupied this fort were very bellicose people. Their leader ordered all the holders of the fort up to forty years of age to be active fighters, from forty to fifty to be guards of the fort, and after fifty to be killed, because they have no military value. Since that period the old men were killed. An old man who was nearing his fiftieth year had a grandson who was very fond of him. On the eve of the day on which the old man was ordered to be killed, the enemy attacked the fort. The grandson used this opportunity and forced his grandfather to fly. The old man fled and hid himself in a cave which was in the neighborhood. After the enemy were dispersed, and when the people looked for the old man, they could not find him. Some time after, the leader commanded them to be ready to go to war in a distant land. At the moment when the army was prepared to start, the grandfather appeared secretly to his grandson and said to him, 'For this long way ride a mare which has a colt, and when you come to an unknown land, kill the colt, and then go farther. God protect you! Farewell!' The grandson obeyed the orders of his grandfather, rode a mare with a colt and went with the leader and his army to the war. They went for three days and then they came to a river, on the opposite side of which was a dense forest. The young man looked on all sides and was sure that he was in a perfectly unknown land. Then he secretly killed the colt. Crossing the river the army marched through the forest. After six days of traveling they came to a vast plain, where they found the enemy waiting for them. The fight was very severe, and at the end the leader and his army were defeated and forced to flee. The vanquished army did not know the way, but the mare of the young man went in the direction where her colt was lost and so led them to the river, from which they knew the way to their own country. Everybody was astonished, and the leader asked the young man who taught him to act so, and he, after some hesitation, told him that it was his grandfather. When they came home the leader invited the old man, recognized his cleverness, and ordered that further on the old men should not be killed, but respected, because they knew much more than the young men.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,How the Killing of the Old Men Was Stopped,Serbia,"This story was first published 1899 in Kazadzic, a journal of Serbian folklore. It was submitted by Mr. I. L. Szeckovic from Paracin, a town on the river Morava. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 981.","T. R. Georgevitch, Folk-Lore: A Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Institution, and Custom (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1918), v. 29, p. 239.","In old times it was the habit to kill old men when they had passed fifty years. A man who was nearing his fiftieth year had a good son, who was very sorry for his father and hid him in a wine vat, in which he cared for him secretly. Once he bet with some of his neighbors who should see the first rising of the sun in the morning. The merciful son told his father of his bet, and his father said to him, 'Be careful, and when you are at the place to see the rising of the sun take, the precaution not to look to the east as the others will do, but look instead to the west at the highest point of the mountains, and you will win the bet.' The son did as his father had advised him, and so saw first the rising of the sun. When the neighbors asked him who had advised him what to do, he said it was his father, whom he must hide and protect from a forced death. The people were astonished at such clever advice and concluded that the old men are clever and that they do not deserve to be killed, but respected.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,Killing of the Old Men,Romania,"Gaster's source: Ion Creanga [Romanian Folk-Lore Review], November/December 1919, pp. 106-107. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 981. Another escape from the famine in tales of this type is the old man's proposal that straw roofs be dismantled and re-threshed for leftover grain.","M. Gaster, Folk-Lore: A Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Institution, and Custom (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1921), v. 32, pp. 213-215.","In olden times in some distant country the young folk had come together and decided to get rid of the old men. They did not want their wisdom and their advice, for they were just as clever. They had lived their lives, and that was an end of it. Over that country there ruled a young king who gladly accepted the decision of the young people and gave strict orders that all the old men should be killed. The orders were carried out with the utmost severity. But there lived among these people a young man who had not the heart to kill his old father. Frightened at the consequences of disobeying the king's orders, he took his old father and hid him in the cellar under the house. There he fed him and looked after him, carefully visiting him only by night. For a while things went well. The country was prosperous, the earth yielded its produce, vineyards flourished, and the orchards were laden with fruit. But things did not remain in that state of prosperity. A summer came. There was such drought that for months not a drop of rain fell. The crops were burnt off the face of the earth. The trees withered, and there was dearth and famine in the land. This was followed by a severe winter so cold as he people had never experienced in their life. Heavy snow fell and covered the fields. No food was left, nay not even seed for sowing the field in the springtime. Starvation had set in, and the people did not know what to do, for they saw death before their eyes, for themselves and for their starved cattle. One night, when the son came as usual to his father, he could not bring more than a morsel of food. His father asked him what was the matter and why he looked so sad. The son told him what had happened. They had no seed to sow and did not know where to get any. There was nothing for them but rank starvation. They were all at their wits' end and had nowhere to turn for counsel or advice how to save themselves, and the father said, 'My son, fear not. Take a plow and plow up the road in front of the house and the adjoining road, and do not reply to any questions.' The son did as his father had bidden. The earth which had become moist and soft through the melting snow was easily plowed up, when lo! to their great amazement, when the time came all kinds of grains seemed to sprout and to grow up from the ground which had been tilled. Maize and corn and wheat were all growing up, and -- as the weather was favorable -- yielded a very good crop. His neighbors were greatly astonished at what they saw, and went and told the king what had happened. The king called the young man and said to him, 'This doing is not of your own wisdom. No doubt your father has told you, whom you have kept alive. Speak the truth and I will spare your life.' The young man owned that his father had advised him to plow up the thoroughfares and roads close to their house. The young king then sent for the old man and asked him what was the meaning of his advice. The old man replied, 'All throughout the year carts laden with all manner of seeds and corn are passing to and fro. Some of the corn falls to the ground, and not a few of the seeds fall on the ground and are trodden into the earth by the passers-by. Left in that state they usually rot, but if the ground is plowed up, and is moist and favorable for the growth, no one passing over that part of the ground, some of the corn has a chance of growing. It is upon that chance that I relied, and thus it has come to pass that we have now a rich crop, not only for our necessities, but also to provide you all with enough necessary seed for your own fields in the future.' When the king and the young people heard what the old man had to tell and saw his deep wisdom, they recognized their folly, they rescinded that resolution, and decided henceforth to allow the old people to live in peace and honor. And henceforth the old men are allowed to live to the end of their days. Tradition, Institution, and Custom (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1921), v. 32, pp. 213-215. November/December 1919, pp. 106-107. old man's proposal that straw roofs be dismantled and re-threshed for leftover grain.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,Kith-Rocks and Kith-Clubs,Sweden,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Eric Gustave Geijer, The History of the Swedes, translated from the Swedish by J. H. Turner, vol. 1 (London: Whittaker and Company, 1845), pp. 31-32. Source (Internet Archive): Eric Gustave Geijer, The History of the Swedes, translated from the Swedish by J. H. Turner, vol. 1 (London: Whittaker and Company, 1845), pp. 31-32.","A violent death was deemed so pleasing to the gods, that it was not sought for in the field of battle only; 'to gash oneself to Odin with the sword' was deemed better than to die of sickness or of old age. Those who were advanced in years precipitated themselves from lofty cliffs, which thence received the appellation of kith-rocks, and so 'fared to Valhalla.' Three such cliffs in West-Gothland and Bleking still bear the latter name, and to another the remarkable statement attaches, that the people, after dances and sports, threw themselves headlong from its top into the lake, as the ancients relate of the Hyperboreans and Scythians. [Plin. Hist. Nat. iv. 12] Domestic legends even inform us, that if a man became bedridden and frail with age, his kinsmen would assemble and put him to death with a club, called a kith-club.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,The Man with the Hatchet,England,NA,"Source (HathiTrust Digital Library): Ella Mary Leather, The Folk-Lore of Herefordshire: Collected from Oral and Printed Sources (Hereford: Jakeman and Carver; Sondon: Sidgwick and Jackson, 1912), pp. 171-72.","In the Bargates, Leominster, are four small almshouses; these were founded by a widow named Hester Clark in 1736, and have been since rebuilt. Tradition says that the foundress spent all her money on these almshouses, and that she became in consequence so poor that she had to occupy one herself. That is why there is in the centre of the building a figure of a man, very quaint and rudely carved, holding an axe in his hand with these lines beneath: He that gives away all before he is dead, Let 'em take this hatchet and knock him on ye head. The inscription on a stone on the front of the building contradicts the tradition, for it expressly states: 'This Hospital was erected by Hester Clark and endowed at her death with 20 pounds per annum, to four decayed widows.' This is a good example of the way in which a rhyme and folk-tale of great antiquity are as it were brought up to date and started on a new lease of life by being associated with some local hero or person of note (see ante, Jack o' Kent). Sir Laurence Gomme (Folklore as an Historical Science, 66-78), has collected a number of parallel stories to this. He concludes that the tale has come down to us from a savage time when the mallet (in this case a hatchet) was actually used for killing off the aged. At Osnabrück, in front of a house (but sometimes at the city gate, as in several of the cities of Silesia and Saxony), there hangs a mallet with this inscription: Wer den kindern gibt das Brodt And selber dabei leidet Noth, Den schlagt mit dieser Kettle todt. Which Mr. Thoms has Englished thus: Who to his children gives his bread And thereby himself suffers need, With this mallet strike him dead. (Gentleman's Magazine, 1850, 250-2) Sir Laurence Gomme concludes that life of the folk-tale commenced when the use or formula of the mallet ceased to be a part of the social institutions. The old customs which we have detailed as the true origin of the mallet and its hideous use in killing the aged and infirm had died out, but the symbol of them remained. To explain the symbol a myth was created, which kept sufficiently near to the original idea as to retain evidence of its close connection with the descent of property. He goes on to give reasons for his belief that this story dates from a pre-Celtic period. It clearly takes us back to practices very remote from the reverence for the parents' authority, which might perhaps have been expected from descendants of the Aryan household. In most of the stories the father takes the place given to the charitable Hester Clark at Leominster.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,The Old Heathens,Germany,Translated by D. L. Ashliman. Steinfurt is a town about 20 km northwest of Münster.,"Adalbert Kuhn, 'Die alten Heiden,' Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen und einigen andern, besonders den angrenzenden Gegenden Norddeutschlands, vol. 1 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859) no. 109, p. 106.","Told by an old man in Steinfurt In olden times many heathens lived around here, and it is still told how they put to death old people who were over sixty years of age. They would chop them into many small pieces, which were then put into large jars. Then a little lamp was placed in each jar. They buried them in the earth. To this day such jars are frequently dug up. und Märchen aus Westfalen und einigen andern, besonders den angrenzenden Gegenden Norddeutschlands, vol. 1 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859) no. 109, p. 106.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,The Old Man Who Solved Riddles,Macedonia,Gaster does not give this story a title. Title provided by D. L. Ashliman. Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 981.,"M. Gaster, Folk-Lore: A Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Institution, and Custom (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1919), v. 30, pp. 138-139.","The custom in olden times was to take the old men to the mountain, where they were left to die of hunger or to be torn to pieces by wild beasts. This was done to prevent famine and starvation, and those children who did not do it were killed by the people. A young man was taking his father to the mountain when he started to cry. The son took pity on him and took him home and locked him up in the cellar. There came an order from the emperor to the villager to kill a she-bear which appeared above the village. The young man asked his father in the cellar what was the meaning of this order, and he answered, 'It means the rock at the top of the hill.' The young man went to the assembly of the villagers and told them the answer to the emperor's order. They were to say, 'We will kill the she-bear, and we will wait for the emperor to come and flay her.' On another occasion the emperor wanted them to bring him every kind of seed found in the neighborhood. The old man in the cellar told the young man to go to an anthill, there they would be sure to find them all. When the young man again repeated this advice to the men in the village assembly, they were all surprised at his cleverness, and asked him to tell them who it was that had given him such advice, for they knew that he must have learned it from someone else. He then told them what he had done. Since then they no longer kill the old men, because their wisdom is indispensable. v. 30, pp. 138-139.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
981,Why People Today Die Their Own Death,Retold by D. L. Ashliman,Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 981.,Retold from various eastern European sources.,"In ancient days people did not die their own death. Instead, law and tradition required that they be taken into the mountains and pushed over a sacred cliff when they reached a certain age. One family could not bring themselves to depart from their old grandfather, and so when his time came, they hid him in their cellar instead of taking him to the cliff of death. At this time there was a great famine in the land. The crops had failed, the food stores were exhausted, and indeed, no one even had grain left for seed. The grandfather, from his hiding place in the cellar, told his kin to remove the thatched roofs from their houses and rethresh the straw for any kernels of grain that may have been missed the first time. They did as he suggested, and harvested a good measure of forgotten grain. Acting again on the old man's advice, they sowed the newfound grain that very day. Miraculously their crop sprouted, matured, and was ready for harvest the next morning. The king, who quickly learned of this miracle, demanded an explanation. Thus the family was forced to admit how they had violated law and tradition by sparing their old grandfather. The king, impressed by the family's courage and by the old man's wisdom, decreed that from that day forth old people would be allowed to live until they died their own death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,A Clever Stratagem,Sri Lanka,NA,"S. Helen Goonetilleke, 'Sinhalese Folklore,' The Orientalist: A Journal of Oriental Literature, Arts, and Sciences, vol. 4 (1890), pp. 121-22.","Once upon a time there lived a widowed mother, who had a son and daughter to support her. In course of time the children married and were well settled in life. The old woman, thus left alone, being unable to maintain herself, resolved to live under her son's roof. Naturally enough, the son treated her with respect and kindness, but her daughter-in-law, who had a tongue which might goad a man to fury, seized every opportunity of ill-treating her. At every turn she would give her a sound scolding, and often ordered her out of doors. Small wonder was it, then, that the mother, unable to bear the severity of her son's wife, made up her mind to quit his house for her daughter's. When the son heard this, though cut to the quick, he was at a loss as to what he should do to remedy matters, for he was a hen-pecked husband. That night sleep fled from his eyes, and, as he lay awake pondering over this unfortunate state of affairs, a beautiful idea struck him, and he was anxiously waiting till it dawned to carry it out. Early in the morning, while his wife was yet sleeping, he called his mother aside, and giving her a bag bade her fill it with stones and when parting to make much ado and carry it away with her, pretending the while there was something valuable in it. When the time came she, with sufficient tact, wished them all manner of good and together with her bag full of treasures, wended her way to her daughter's abode. Scarce had she gone a few yards, when the son rated his wife soundly, and opened her eyes to her folly in allowing his mother to depart for, said he, 'You saw ber carrying away that bag of gold, and now she would leave it all to my sister, and we would be such losers by it.' When the wife heard this, her sorrow and mortification know no bounds, and she resolved to bring the old woman home at any cost. So, on the morrow, she prepared some rice-cakes and other sweetmeats and, with all possible haste, she went to her whom she had so cruelly driven away and with artful language coaxed her back. For, had she not a bag full of glittering gold! Ever afterwards she swallowed her wrath in silence and treated her with kind concern, attending to all her wants. One evening, the old woman took seriously ill, and the daughter-in-law, finding she was breathing her last, and her husband had run in search of medicine -- so great was her avarice and eagerness to get at the treasures ere his return -- rushed into an inner chamber and in the deep recesses of a wooden box found -- horror of horrors! -- the bag filled not with gold but with stones. Angry with herself, and angry with the man who had deceived her, she went out into the verandah of her house with her crying infant in her arms. After a while the poor woman expired and the neighbors had come to make preparations for the funeral. Seeing her mother also hurrying up and not wishing to outrage the feelings of those assembled by an open recital of the stratagem her husband had practised on her, and yet being impatient to acquaint her mother of it -- for she, too, was in the secret about the bag of gold -- she hushed the little one to sleep by chanting a nursery rhyme and artfully introducing into it the following line: Mother, the wretch, who gave the villain birth, Had but a bag of stones as hers on earth!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,Grandfather's Bag of Gold,Scotland,"Gomme's source: 'Mr. J. F. Campbell printed [this] tale in the second volume of the Transactions of the Ethnological Society (p. 336), which had been sent to him in Gaelic by John Davan, in December 1862.' Gomme does not give this tale a title.","Source (books.google.com): George Laurence Gomme, Folklore as an Historical Science (London: Methuen and Company, 1908), pp. 67-68 Source (Internet Archive): George Laurence Gomme, Folklore as an Historical Science (London: Methuen and Company, 1908), pp. 67-68","There was a man at some time or other who was well off, and had many children. When the family grew up the man gave a well-stocked farm to each of his children. When the man was old his wife died, and he divided all that he had amongst his children, and lived with them, turn about, in their houses. The sons and daughters got tired of him and ungrateful, and tried to get rid of him when he came to stay with them. At last an old friend found him sitting tearful by the wayside, and learning the cause of his distress, took him home; there he gave him a bowl of gold and a lesson which the old man learned and acted. When all the ungrateful sons and daughters had gone to a preaching, the old man went to a green knoll where his grandchildren were at play, and pretending to hide, he turned up a flat hearthstone in an old stance [standing-place], and went out of sight. He spread out his gold on a big stone in the sunlight, and he muttered, 'Ye are mouldy, ye are hoary, ye will be better for the sun.' The grandchildren came sneaking over the knoll, and when they had seen and heard all that they were in tended to see and hear, they came running up with, 'Grandfather, what have you got there?' 'That which concerns you not; touch it not,' said the grandfather; and he swept his gold into a bag and took it home to his old friend. The grandchildren told what they had seen, and henceforth the children strove who should be kindest to the old grandfather. Still acting on the counsel of his sagacious old chum, he got a stout little black chest made, and carried it always with him. When any one questioned him as to its contents, his answer was, 'That will be known when the chest is opened.' When he died he was buried with great honour and ceremony, and then the chest was opened by the expectant heirs. In it were found broken potsherds and bits of slate, and a long-handled, white wooden mallet with this legend on its head: So am favioche fiorum, Thabhavit gnoc annsa cheann, Do n'f hear nach gleidh maoin da' fein, Ach bheir a chuid go leir d'a chlann. Here is the fair mall To give a knock on the skull To the man who keeps no gear for himself, But gives all to his bairns.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,How the Daughter-in-Law Got the Coins,Sri Lanka,This tale is from the western part of Sri Lanka. Retold by D. L. Ashliman. Parker's translation follows his Sinhalese sources so closely that English syntax is violated in almost every sentence. I have cautiously attempted to bring his narrative closer to idiomatic English. Parker entitles this story 'How the Daughter-in-Law Got the Masuran.' Masuran (a plural form of the singular masurama) were coins in use in Sri Lanka between the eleventh and thirteenth centuries. I have replaced the word masuran with coins throughout the tale.,"H. Parker, Village Folk-Tales of Ceylon, vol. 3 (London: Luzac and Company, 1914), no. 234, pp. 240-42.","In a certain city there was a nobleman. He had been very wealthy, but his goods were destroyed, and he became indigent, and in this condition he died. When his son came of full age, the mother said to him, 'Son, I am now approaching old age, but you are unable to provide for me by yourself. Therefore you must take in marriage a woman from a suitable family.' He married, but his wife did not exert herself for his mother. To counter this, the husband collected fragments of broken plates from the whole village. These he put in a bag made of skin. Then he said, 'When you come near that woman, my wife, take this bag from its box as though there were great wealth in it, shake it, then put it away again.' The mother took her son's words to heart. She shook the skin bag as he had told her to, so as to be noticed by his wife, and then carefully replaced it in the box. From that day on the son's wife began to exert herself for her mother-in-law. During this time leprosy attacked the mother-in-law. The son said, 'Mother, place the skin bag near the place where you sleep, then say to your relatives and to my wife, 'I have saved the articles in this bag from the time I was very little until now, and for the sole purpose of giving them, at the end of my life, to a person who has most exerted herself for me.'' Then the mother gathered together her relatives and her daughter-in-law, and said to them what her son had proposed, that she would give the bag of coins to the person who most exerted herself for her. After this each one of them attended the leprous woman, and the son's mind was put at ease. A little later the leprous woman died. The son's wife stole the bag of coins and hid it. After the corpse was buried, the son's wife took out the bag of coins. Upon discovering that it contained only fragments of broken plates she was greatly saddened. At this time that woman's mother also arrived, and she noisily asked, 'Did my daughter receive the bag of coins?' Her daughter told her that she had been cheated. She showed her the bag of plate fragments, and they both wept. That woman, now angry with her husband, separated from him, and returned to her own house.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,How the Wicked Sons Were Duped,Kashmir,"This story is also contained in: Joseph Jacobs, Indian Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1892), pp. 221-22.","J. Hinton Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir, 2nd edition (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1893), pp. 241-242.","A very wealthy old man, imagining that he was on the point of death, sent for his sons and divided his property among them. However, he did not die for several years afterwards; and miserable years many of them were. Besides the weariness of old age, the old fellow had to bear with much abuse and cruelty from his sons. Wretched, selfish ingrates! Previously they vied with one another in trying to please their father, hoping thus to receive more money, but now they had received their patrimony, they cared not how soon he left them -- nay, the sooner the better, because he was only a needless trouble and expense. This, as we may suppose, was a great grief to the old man. One day he met a friend and related to him all his troubles. The friend sympathized very much with him, and promised to think over the matter, and call in a little while and tell him what to do. He did so; in a few days he visited the old man and put down four bags full of stones and gravel before him. 'Look here, friend,' said he. 'Your sons will get to know of my coming here today, and will inquire about it. You must pretend that I came to discharge a long-standing debt with you, and that you are several thousands of rupees richer than you thought you were. Keep these bags in your own hands, and on no account let your sons get to them as long as you are alive. You will soon find them change their conduct towards you. Salám. I will come again soon to see how you are getting on.' When the young men got to hear of this further increase of wealth they began to be more attentive and pleasing to their father than ever before. And thus they continued to the day of the old man's demise, when the bags were greedily opened, and found to contain only stones and gravel! Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1893), pp. 241-242.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,No Father Should Transfer All His Property to His Children While He Is Still Alive,"Martin Luther, Table Talk",NA,"Source (books.google.com): D. Martin Luther's Tischreden oder Colloquia, edited by Karl Eduard Förstemann, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Gebauersche Buchhandlung, 1844), p. 206. Source (Internet Archive): D. Martin Luther's Tischreden oder Colloquia, edited by Karl Eduard Förstemann, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Gebauersche Buchhandlung, 1844), p. 206.","The doctor replied: Jesus Sirach [Ben Sira] gives parents the best advice when he says: 'Do not give everything away while you are still alive, for then your children will not be faithful to you.' As the proverb states: 'One father can care for ten children, but ten children cannot care for one father.' For this reason in times past there were many sermons about a children's thanklessness. Their father made made his last will and testament, then locked it into a chest together with a club and a slip of paper. On the slip of paper were these words: Welcher Vater das Seine gibet aus der Gewalt, Den soll man todtschlagen mit der Keule bald. A father who gives all away before he's dead Should be dispatched with a blow to his head.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,Old Mr. Lacy and His Three Sons,England,"Gutch's and Peacock's source: Charles Jackson, ed., The Diary of Abraham de la Pryme, the Yorkshire Antiquary (Durham: Published for the Surtees Society by Andrews and Company, 1870), pp. 162-63. Abraham de la Pryme was born in 1671 and died in 1704. Language cautiously revised by D. L. Ashliman. Gutch and Peacock do not give a title to this local legend ('a tradition at Winterton').","Eliza Gutch and Mabel Peacock, County Folk-Lore, vol. 5: Examples of Printed Folk-Lore Concerning Lincolnshire (London: David Nutt, 1908), pp. 362-63.","They have a tradition at Winterton that there was formerly one Mr. Lacy, that lived there and was a very rich man, who, being grown very aged, gave all that he had away unto his three sons, upon condition that one should keep him one week, and another another. But it happened within a little while that they were all weary of him, after that they had got what they had, and regarded him no more than a dog. The old man perceiving how he was slighted, went to an attorney to see if his skill could not afford him any help in his troubles. The attorney told him that no law in the land could help him nor yield him any comfort, but there was one thing only which would certainly do, which, if he would perform, he would reveal to him. At this the poor old man was exceeding glad, and desired him for God's sake to reveal the same, for he was almost pined and starved to death, and he would willingly do it rather than live as he did. 'Well,' says the lawyer, 'you have been a great friend of mine in my need, and I will now be one to you in your need. I will lend you a strongbox with a strong lock on it, in which shall be contained 1000 pounds. You shall on such a day pretend to have fetched it out of a closet, where it shall be supposed that you had hidden it, and carry it into one of your son's houses, and make it your business every week, while you are sojourning with such or such a son, to be always counting of the money, and rattling it about, and you shall see that, for love of it, they'll soon love you again, and make very much of you, and maintain you joyfully, willingly, and plentifully, unto your dying day.' The old man, having thanked the lawyer for this good advice and kind proffer, received within a few days the aforesaid box full of money, and having so managed it as above, his graceless sons soon fell in love with him again, and made mighty much of him, and perceiving that their love to him continued steadfast and firm, he one day took it out of the house and carried it to the lawyer, thanking him exceedingly for the loan thereof. But when he got to his sons he made them believe that he had hidden it again, and that he would give it to him of them whom he loved best when he died. This made them all so observant of him that he lived the rest of his days in great peace, plenty, and happiness amongst them, and died full of years. But a while before he died, he upbraided them for their former ingratitude, told them the whole history of the box, and forgave them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,The Borrowed Guilder,"Martin Luther, Table Talk",NA,"Source (books.google.com): D. Martin Luther's Tischreden oder Colloquia, edited by Karl Eduard Förstemann, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Gebauersche Buchhandlung, 1844), p. 207. Source (Internet Archive): D. Martin Luther's Tischreden oder Colloquia, edited by Karl Eduard Förstemann, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Gebauersche Buchhandlung, 1844), p. 207.","A father, now aged, had given over all his property to his children, with the understanding that they would care for him as long as he lived. But they were thankless and soon grew tired of him. Considering him a nuisance, they gave him but little to eat. The father, who was an intelligent man, locked himself in a room, and as though he were counting out a large sum of money, made a ringing sound with some guilder that his neighbor had lent him. The children heard this and thereafter treated him with honor, hoping that he would leave this money to them. He returned the borrowed coins to his neighbor. When he died the children discovered that they had been deceived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,The Cudgel,Germany,"Link to the text in modern German: Johannes Pauli, Schimpf und Ernst, edited by Karl Simrock (Heilbronn: Verlag von Gebrüder Henninger, 1876), no. 334, pp. 255-56. Schimpf und Ernst was first published in Strasbourg in 1522.","Johannes Pauli, Schimpf und Ernst, edited by Hermann Österley (Stuttgart: Gedruckt auf Kosten des litterarischen Vereins, 1866), no. 435, p. 260.","A wealthy man had three daughters. He gave them marriage dowries and provided for their every need, but then he lived too long for them. They begged him to deed his property to them, promising that in return they would care for him the rest of his life. They would provide him with his own room and give him the best things to eat and drink. So the father deeded his property to them, and during the first year all went well. But the next year, when he spent more time with the one daughter than with the others, she said to him, 'Father, you are a burden to me. Go to the others; they received just as much from you as I did.' The good father could now see very well that he was no longer wanted, and asked a neighbor for advice. The neighbor gave him an old chest filled with sand and stones. The father had the chest carried to where he was staying, then asked his daughter to lend him a scoop and three candles, for he had something that he wanted to measure. He sat up half the night making a clinging sound as if it were gold coins. The next morning he gave the scoop back to the daughter, leaving one old Bohemian coin in it. She said, 'Father, you were clinging in the night as if you were measuring gold coins. I heard it.' He said, 'I set aside some money for myself in a chest, and I am going to leave it to the one of you who is the most friendly toward me.' Hearing this, all three wanted to have him, and each one tried to outdo the others in caring for him. When his time finally came to die, they went to the chest and discovered that it was filled with sand and stones, together with a cudgel, upon which was written, in the English language: 'Be it known to all the world that anyone should be beaten with this cudgel who gives so much to his children that he himself suffers want.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
982,The Cudgel on the Gate at Jüterbog,Germany,Translated by D. L. Ashliman. Jüterbog is about 50 km (30 miles) south of Berlin.,"A. Kuhn and W. Schwartz, 'Die Keule am Thor zu Jüterbog,' Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], Pommern, der Mark, Sachsen, Thüringen, Braunschweig, Hannover, Oldenburg und Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1848), no. 96, p. 88.","In Jüterbog a wooden cudgel, several feet in length, hangs from town gate. Beneath it is fastened a tablet upon which is written the following: Wer seinen Kindern gibt das Brot Und leidet nachher selber Not, Den schlag' man mit dieser Keule tot. He who gives his children bread And afterwards himself suffers need, With this cudgel shall be struck dead. About this it is told that there was once a rich man who had three sons. During his lifetime he gave them all his wealth, but afterward he himself suffered need, for not one of his children would support him. After he died, his children quickly appeared at court to see if there was not something else for them to inherit, but they found nothing but a large, heavy chest. Opening it, they found that it was filled with stones, beneath which were the cudgel, the tablet, and instructions that both should be hung from the town gate. And so it was done.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,Dummburg Castle,Germany,"Thorpe's source: Johann Gustav Gottlieb Büsching, 'Die Dummburg,' Volks-Sagen, Märchen und Legenden, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Carl Heinrich Reclam, 1812), no. 72, pp. 343-52. Link to an abbreviated version of this story: 'The Castle of Dummburg,' Appendix to Richard F. Burton, Supplemental Nights to the Bok of the Thousand Nights and a Night, vol. 3 (Benares: Printed by the Kamashastra Society for private subscribers only, 1887), pp. 591-92.","Benjamin Thorpe, 'The Dummburg,' Yule-Tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1853), pp. 481-86.","With dread the wanderer approaches the ruins of the Dummburg. Terror seizes him if night overtakes him in its vicinity; for when the sun goes down and he treads on the site of the castle, he hears from beneath hollow moans and the clank of chains. At midnight he sees in the moonlight the spectres of knights of former days, who ruled the land with an iron sceptre. In solemn procession twelve tall white figures rise from amid the rocky fragments, bearing a large open coffin, which they place on the top of the hill, and then vanish. The skulls also move about, that lie scattered under the rock. For many years the Dummburg was the abode of robbers, who slew the passing travellers and merchants, whom they perceived on the road from Leipsig [Leipzig] to Brunswick [Braunschweig], and heaped together the treasures of the plundered churches and the surrounding country, which they concealed in subterranean caverns. Deep wells were choked up with their murdered victims; and in the frightful castle-dungeon, many miserable beings perished by the slower death of hunger. Long did this lurking-place of banditti continue undiscovered. At length the vengeance of the confederated princes reached them. The hoards of gold, silver, and precious stones still remain piled up in the ruined cellars and vaults of the Dummburg; but it is seldom granted to the wanderer to find the doors, even if here and there he may discover ruined entrances. Spectres in the form of monks, and also living monks, are often seen descending into the rock. A poor wood-cutter, who was about to fell a beech at the back of the scattered ruins, seeing a monk approach slowly through the forest, hid himself behind a tree. The monk passed by, and went among the rocks. The wood-cutter stole cautiously after him, and saw that he stopped at a small door, which had never been discovered by any of the villagers. The monk knocked gently and cried: 'Little door, open!' -- and the door sprang open. 'Little door, shut!' he also heard him cry, and the door was closed. Trembling in every limb, the wood-cutter marked the crooked path with twigs and heaps of stones. But from that time he could neither eat nor drink, nor sleep, so anxious was he to know what was contained in the cellars to which this wonderful door gave entrance. The following Saturday evening he fasted, and on the Sunday, rising with the sun, he took his rosary and proceeded to the rock. He now stood before the door, and his teeth chattered with fear, as he expected to see a spectre in the form of a monk -- but no spectre appeared. Trembling he approached the door; he listened long and heard nothing. In the anxiety of his heart he prayed to all the saints and to the Virgin, and then, without reflecting, tapped on the door, at the same time saying in a low tremulous voice: 'Little door, open!' and the door opened, when he saw before him a narrow dim passage. He entered tottering, and found that it led into a spacious and rather light vault. 'Little door, shut!' said he, almost unconsciously, and the door closed behind him. With fear he now walked forward, and found large open vessels and sacks full of old dollars and fine guilders, together with heavy gold pieces. Here were also many beautiful caskets filled with jewels and pearls, costly shrines, and decorated images of saints, which lay about or stood on tables of silver in the corners of the vault. The wood-cutter crossed himself, and wished himself a thousand miles from the enchanted spot, yet could not withstand the desire of taking some of the useless treasures, to enable him to clothe his wife and eight children more comfortably, as they had long been in rags. Shuddering, and with averted eyes, he stretched out his hand towards the sack that stood nearest to him, and took out a few guilders. Feeling now somewhat more composed, with less tremor and half closing his eyes he then took a few dollars, also a handful or two of the small copper coins, and again crossing himself, tottered back to the door. 'Come again!' cried a hollow voice from the depth of the vault. As everything about him seemed to whirl round, he could scarcely stammer out: 'Little door, open!' The door sprang open. In a livelier and louder voice he now cried out: 'Little door, shut!' and it closed behind him. He ran home with the utmost speed, but uttered not a syllable about the treasures he had found; then went into the conventual church and offered up, for the church and for the poor, two-tenths of all that he had taken in the vault. The next day he went to the town, and bought some clothes for his wife and children. He had, he said, found an old dollar and a few guilders under the roots of the beech that he had felled. The following Sunday he went with firmer steps to the door in the rock, did as he had done the first time, and supplied himself better than on the former occasion; still with moderation and discretion. 'Come again!' cried the same hollow voice. And he went on the third Sunday, and filled his pockets as before. He was now in his own estimation a rich man, but what could he do with his riches? He gave to the church and to the poor two-tenths of all he had, the rest he resolved to bury in his cellar, and from time to time fetch some as he required it. Yet he could not resist the desire first to measure his money; for as to counting it, that was an art he had never learned. He accordingly went to his neighbour, a very rich man, but who starved himself in the midst of his wealth. He hoarded up corn, deprived the labourer of his hire, extorted from the widow and orphan, and lent money on pledges. He had no children. From this man the wood-cutter borrowed a measure, measured his money, buried it, and returned the measure to its owner. The measure had some long cracks in it, through which the corn-dealer, when selling to the poor labourer, always shook some grains back to his own heap. In one of these cracks two or three of the small copper coins had lodged, which the wood-cutter, in throwing out the money, had not observed. But they did not so easily escape the vulture-eyes of his rich neighbour. He went in search of the wood-cutter, and asked him what he had been measuring. 'Pine-cones and beans,' answered he confusedly. The usurer shook his head, and showed him the copper coins, threatened him with the law, the torture, and, lastly, promised to give him all he could possibly wish for, if he would tell him the truth. Thus he extorted the secret out of the poor man, and learned from him the powerful words. The whole week the rich usurer employed in forming plans how he might at once get possession of all the treasures in the vault, as well as of those he thought might be concealed in the neighbouring vaults, or buried under the earth. He reckoned beforehand, that if he could get together all this money, he could by degrees, either purchase at a cheap rate from his neighbours, or extort from them. by false accusations and false witnesses, one acre and one hide of land after another, and thus make himself lord of the whole village, and, perhaps, of several of the neighbouring villages; then get ennobled by the emperor; and, as a robber-knight, lay the country around under contribution. It did not please the wood-cutter that his evil-disposed neighbour should visit the castle-vaults. He prayed him to desist from his purpose, and represented to him the fate of many luckless treasure-seekers. But who ever held back a miser from an open sack of gold? By threats and entreaties the wood-cutter was at length prevailed on to accompany him to the door; he was only to receive the sacks, which the miser would himself drag out, and conceal them among the bushes. For this service he was to have the half of all the treasure, and the church a tenth; all the poor also in the village should be newly clothed. So spake the usurer. In his heart he had resolved, when he no longer required his aid, to throw the wood-cutter headlong into a deep well which was near the castle, to give nothing to the poor, and to the church only a few copper coins. The following Sunday the extortioner, accompanied by the wood-cutter, set off before sunrise to the Dummburg. On his shoulder he carried a sack, which contained three bushels, into which he put twenty smaller ones, and in his hand a spade and a large axe. The wood-cutter warned him most strongly against covetousness, but in vain; he recommended him to offer up prayers to the saints for protection, but he would not. Muttering and gnashing his teeth, he walked on. They now arrived at the door. The wood-cutter, who did not feel very easy in the affair, but was held back by the fear of the torture, stood at some distance to receive the sacks. 'Little door, open!' cried the miser in a hurried tone, and trembling with eagerness. The door then opened, and he entered. 'Little door, shut!' cried he, and it closed after him. No sooner was he in the vault and saw all the vessels and sacks full of gold, and caskets of precious stones and pearls, and shining money, than he devoured them all with his eyes; then with trembling hands pulled the twenty sacks out of the large one, and began filling them. At this moment there came slowly from the depth of the vault a great black dog with fire-darting eyes, and laid himself on all the full sacks, and then on the money. 'Away with thee, miser!' cried the dog, grinning fiercely at him. Trembling, the usurer fell to the ground, and crept on hands and knees to the door; but in his fear he forgot the words, 'Little door, open,' and continued calling out, 'Little door, shut,' and the door continued closed. The wood-cutter waited long with beating heart; at length he approached the door. It seemed to him that he heard groans and moaning and the hollow howl of a dog, and then all was silent. He now heard the sound of the mass-bell at the convent, and counted his beads; then gently knocked at the door, saying: 'Little door, open!' The door opened, and there lay the bleeding body of his wicked neighbour stretched on his sacks; but the vessels of gold and silver, and diamonds and pearls, sank deeper and deeper before his eyes into the earth, till all had completely vanished.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,How Black Snake Caught the Wolf,USA,NA,"Joel Chandler Harris, Daddy Jake the Runaway: And Short Stories Told After Dark by Uncle Remus (New York: The Century Company, 1896), pp. 108-117.","'One time,' said Uncle Remus, putting the 'noses' of the chunks together with his cane, so as to make a light in his cabin: Brer Rabbit en ole Brer Wolf wuz gwine down de road terge'er, en Brer Wolf, he 'low dat times wuz mighty hard en money skace. Brer Rabbit, he 'gree 'long wid 'im, he did, dat times wuz mighty tight, en he up en say dat 't wuz in about much ez he kin do fer ter make bofe en's meet. He 'low, he did: 'Brer Wolf, you er gittin' mighty ga'nt, en't won't be so mighty long 'fo' we'll hatten be tuck up en put in de po'-house. Wat make dis?' says Brer Rabbit, sezee: 'I be bless ef I kin tell, kaze yer er all de creeturs gittin' ga'nt w'iles all de reptules is a-gittin' seal fat. No longer'n yistiddy, I wuz comin' along throo de woods, w'en who should I meet but ole Brer Snake, en he wuz dat put dat he ain't kin skacely pull he tail 'long atter he head. I 'low ter mese'f, I did, dat dish yer country gittin' in a mighty bad way w'en de creeturs is got ter go 'roun' wid der ribs growin' terge'er w'iles de reptules layin' up in de sun des nat' ally fattenin' on der own laziness. Yessar, dat w'at I 'lowed.' Brer Wolf, he say, he did, dat if de reptules wuz gittin' de 'vantage er de creeturs dat away, dat hit wuz 'bout time fer ter clean out de reptules er leaf de country, en he 'low, fuddermo', dat he wuz ready fur ter jine in wid de patter-rollers en drive um out. But Brer Rabbit, he 'low, he did, dat de bes' way fer ter git 'long wuz ter fin' out whar'bouts de reptules hed der smoke-'house en go in dar en git some er de vittles w'at by good rights b'long'd ter de creeturs. Brer Wolf say maybe dis de bes' way, kaze ef de reptules git word dat de patter-rollers is a-comin' dey'll take en hide de ginger-cakes, en der simmon beer, en der w'atzisnames, so dat de creeturs can't git um. By dis time dey come ter de forks er de road, en Brer Rabbit he went one way, en Brer Wolf he went de yuther. Uncle Remus went on, with increasing gravity: Whar Brer Wolf went, de goodness knows, but Brer Rabbit, he went on down de road todes he own house, en w'iles he wuz lippitin' long, nibblin' a bite yer en a bite dar, he year a mighty kuse fuss in de woods. He lay low, Brer Rabbit did, en lissen. He look sharp, he did, en bimeby he ketch a glimp' er ole Mr. Black Snake gwine 'long thoo de grass. Brer Rabbit, he lay low en watch 'im. Mr. Black Snake crope 'long, he did, des like he wuz greased. Brer Rabbit say ter hisse'f: 'Hi! dar goes one er de reptules, en ez she slips she slides 'long.' Yit, still he lay low en watch. Mr. Black Snake crope 'long, he did, en bimeby he come whar dey wuz a great big poplar-tree. Brer Rabbit, he crope on his belly en follow 'long atter. Mr. Black Snake tuck 'n circle all 'roun' de tree, en den he stop en sing out: Watsilla, watsilla, Consario wo! En den, mos' 'fo' Brer Rabbit kin wink he eye, a door w'at wuz in de tree flew'd open, en Mr. Black Snake tuck 'n crawl in. Brer Rabbit 'low, he did: 'Ah-yi! Dar whar you stay! Dar whar you keeps yo' simmon beer! Dar whar you hides yo' backbone en spar' ribs. Ah-yi!' W'en Mr. Black Snake went in de house, Brer Rabbit crope up, he did, en lissen fer ter see w'at he kin year gwine on in dar. But he ain't year nothin'. Bimeby, w'iles he settin' 'roun' dar, he year de same song: En mos' 'fo' Brer Rabbit kin hide in de weeds, de door hit flew'd open, en out Mr. Black Snake slid. He slid out, he did, en slid off, en atter he git out er sight, Brer Rabbit, he tuck 'n went back ter de poplar-tree fer ter see ef he kin git in dar. He hunt 'roun' en he hunt 'roun', en yit ain't fin' no door. Den he sat up on he behin' legs, ole Brer Rabbit did, en low: 'Hey! w'at kinder contrapshun dish yer? I seed a door dar des now, but dey ain't no door dar now.' Ole Brer Rabbit scratch he head, he did, en bimeby hit come inter he min' dat maybe de song got sump'n 'n'er ter do wid it, en wid dat he chuned up, he did, en sing: Bandario, wo-haw! Time he say fus' part, de door sorter open, but w'en he say de las' part hit slammed shet ag'in. Den he chune up some mo': Time he say de fus' part de door open little ways, but time he say de las' part hit slammed shet ag'in. Den Brer Rabbit 'low he 'd hang 'roun' dar en fin' out w'at kind er hinges dat er door wuz a-swingin' on. So he stays 'roun' dar, he did, twel bimeby Mr. Black Snake came 'long back. Brer Rabbit crope up, he did, en he year 'im sing de song: Den de door open, en Mr. Black Snake, he slid in, en Brer Rabbit, he lipped off in de bushes en sung de song by hisse'f. Den he went home en tuck some res', en nex' day he went back; en w'en Mr. Black Snake come out en went off, Brer Rabbit, he tuck 'n sing de song, en de door flewed open, en in he went. He went in, he did, en w'en he got in dar, he fin' lots er goodies. He fin' cakes en sausages, en all sort er nice doin's. Den he come out, en de nex' day he went he tole Ole Brer Wolf, en Brer Wolf, he 'low dat, bein' ez times is hard, he b'lieve he 'll go 'long en sample some er Mr. Black Snake's doin's. Dey went, dey did, en soon ez dey fin' dat Mr. Black Snake is gone, Brer Rabbit he sing de song, en de door open, en in he went. He went in dar, he did, en he gobbled up his belly ful, en w'iles he doin' dis Brer Wolf he gallop 'roun' en 'roun', tryin' fer ter git in. But de door done slam shet, en Brer Wolf ain't know de song. Bimeby Brer Rabbit he come out, he did, lickin' he chops en wipin' he mustash, en Brer Wolf ax 'im w'at de name er goodness is de reason he ain't let 'im go in 'long wid 'im. Brer Rabbit, he vow, he did, dat he 'spected any gump 'ud know dat somebody got ter stay outside en watch w'iles de yuther one wuz on de inside. Brer Wolf say he ain't thunk er dat, en den he ax Brer Rabbit fer ter let 'im in, en please be so good ez ter stay out dar en watch w'iles he git some er de goodies. Wid dat Brer Rabbit, he sung de song: He sung de song, he did, en de door flew'd open, en Brer Wolf he lipt in, en gun ter gobble up de goodies. Brer Rabbit, he stayed outside, en make like he gwine ter watch. Brer Wolf, he e't en e't, en he keep on a-eatin'. Brer Rabbit, he tuck en stan' off in de bushes, en bimeby he year Mr. Black Snake a-slidin' thoo de grass. Brer Rabbit, he ain't say nothin'. He 'low ter hisse'f, he did, dat he was dar ter watch, en dat w'at he gwine ter do ef de good Lord spar' 'im. So he set dar en watch, en Mr. Black Snake, he come a-slidin' up ter de house en sing de song, en den de door flew'd open en in he went. Brer Rabbit set dar en watch so hard, he did, dat it look like he eyes gwine to pop out. 'T want long 'fo' he year sump'n 'n'er like a scuffle gwine on in de poplar-tree, en, fus' news you know, Brer Wolf come tumberlin' out. He come tumberlin' out, he did, en down he fell, kaze Mr. Black Snake got 'im tie hard en fas' so he ain't kin run. Den, atter so long a time, Mr. Black Snake tuck 'n tie Brer Wolf up ter a lim', en dar dat creetur swung 'twixt de hevin en de yeth. He swung en swayed, en eve'y time he swung Mr. Black Snake tuck 'n lash 'im wid he tail, en eve'y time he lash 'im Brer Rabbit holler out, he did: ''Sarve 'im right! sarve 'im right!' 'En I let you know,' said the old man, refilling his pipe, 'dat w'en Mr. Black Snake git thoo wid dat creetur, he ain't want no mo' goodies.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,Open Simson!,Germany,NA,"Ernst Meier, Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 53, pp. 187-88.","One day the robbers brought into the mountain a princess whom they had abducted. Once while she was silently sitting in a corner she heard the enchanted prince singing to himself at his work: Then the mountain opened up, they went out, and the mountain closed itself again. She immediately told this to the prince, and the two of them decided to escape. They made preparations, and one day when the robbers were away, the princess said, 'Open Simson!' The mountain opened up, and they could freely leave. They went far, far into the woods, which became thicker and thicker, until they could no longer find a pathway. Then the prince uttered the saying that he had so often sung to himself: She called out loudly and cheerfully: 'Hans Dunsele!' With that the spell was broken; the woods thinned out, and they found the pathway homeward. Afterward he married the princess who had helped him escape from the mountain and had fled together with him, and he lived happily with her until he died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,Simeli Mountain,Germany,"The Grimms' source: Ludowine von Haxthausen (1795-1872), who heard the tale in the vicinity of Münster. This story first appeared in volume two (no. 56) of the first edition of the Grimms' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1815). Link to a copy of this story in a separate file: Simeli Mountain.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Simeliberg,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), vol. 2, 7th ed. (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 142, pp. 259-61.","One day he was pushing his cart through the forest when off to the side he saw a large bare mountain. He had never seen it before, so he stopped and looked at it with amazement. While he was standing there he saw twelve tall wild men approaching. Thinking that they were robbers, he pushed his cart into the thicket, climbed up a tree, and waited to see what would happen. The twelve men went to the mountain and cried out, 'Mount Semsi, Mount Semsi, open up.' The barren mountain immediately separated down the middle. The twelve men walked into it, and as soon as they were inside it shut. A little while later it opened again, and the men came out carrying heavy sacks on their backs. As soon as they were all back in the daylight they said, 'Mount Semsi, Mount Semsi, close.' Then the mountain went back together, and the entrance could no longer be seen. Then the twelve men went away. When they were completely out of sight, the poor man climbed down from the tree. He was curious to know what secret was hidden in the mountain, so he went up to it and said, 'Mount Semsi, Mount Semsi, open up,' and the mountain opened up for him as well. He went inside, and the entire mountain was a cavern full of silver and gold, and in the back of the cavern there lay great piles of pearls and sparkling jewels, piled up like grain. The poor man did not know what he should do, whether or not he could take any of these treasures for himself. At last he filled his pockets with gold, but he left the pearls and precious stones lying where they were. Upon leaving he too said, 'Mount Semsi, Mount Semsi, close,' and the mountain closed. Then he went home with his cart. He no longer had any cares, for with his gold he could buy bread for his wife and children, and wine as well. He lived happily and honestly, gave to the poor, and did good for everyone. When he ran out of money he went to his brother, borrowed a bushel, and got some more money, but did not touch any of the very valuable things. When he wanted to get some more money for the third time he again borrowed the bushel from his brother. However, the rich man had long been envious of his brother's wealth and of the fine household that he had furnished for himself. He could not understand where the riches came from, and what his brother wanted with the bushel. Then he thought of a trap. He covered the bottom of the bushel with pitch, and when he got the bushel back a gold coin was sticking to it. He at once went to his brother and asked him, 'What have you been measuring in the bushel?' 'Wheat and barley,' said the poor brother. Then he showed him the gold coin and threatened that if he did not tell the truth he would bring charges against him before the court. Then the poor man then told him everything that had happened to him. The rich man immediately had his wagon hitched up and drove away, intending to do better than his brother had done, and to bring back with him quite different treasures. When he came to the mountain he cried out, 'Mount Semsi, Mount Semsi, open up.' The mountain opened, and he went inside. There lay the riches all before him, and for a long time he did not know what he should take hold of first. Finally took as many precious stones as he could carry. He wanted to carry his load outside, but as his heart and soul were entirely occupied with the treasures, he had forgotten the name of the mountain, and cried out, 'Mount Simeli, Mount Simeli, open up.' But that was not the right name, and the mountain did not move, remaining closed instead. He became frightened, and the longer he thought about it the more he became confused, and all of the treasures were of no use to him. In the evening the mountain opened up, and the twelve robbers came inside. When they saw him they laughed and cried out, 'Bird, we have you at last. Did you think we did not notice that you came here twice? We could not catch you then, this third time you shall not get out again.' He cried out, 'I wasn't the one. It was my brother!' But however much he begged for his life, and in spite of everything that he said, they cut off his head.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,The Robbers Robbed,Kashmir,"Knowles's narrator: Shiva Báyú, Renawárí, Srínagar.","James Hinton Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1893), pp. 267-71.","In olden times there lived a great and wealthy king, whose greatness and wealth were the envy of the world. Many kings had assayed to fight with him and had been defeated, till at last he began to think that he was unconquerable, and became careless and indifferent as to the state of his army. Meanwhile another powerful king had been carefully training his forces. He saw the condition of affairs, and determined to do battle with this king. The two armies met on a large plain, and fought bravely for several days. For some time the battle seemed to be equal, but at last the great and wealthy king was slain and his forces scattered. The strange king then entered the city and reigned in his stead. His first act was to banish the late king's wife and her two sons. They were sent out of the country without the least means of subsistence, so that the queen was obliged to pound rice for a ser of rice a day, while the two boys got what they could by begging. One day the woman advised one of her sons to go to the jungle and cut some bundles of wood for sale. The eldest went; and while he was engaged in cutting wood he saw at a little distance a small caravan of loaded camels and mules attended by several men, who evidently were robbers. The boy was frightened, because he thought they would kill him if they knew he was there. So he climbed up into a tree to hide himself. The caravan halted by a small hut in a part of the jungle near to this tree. He saw the men unload their beasts and place all the bundles inside the hut, the door of which opened and shut by itself at the mention of a certain charm that he heard quite plainly. He saw all this, and rememhered the words of the charm, and determined to enter the hut him self as soon as the robhers departed. Accordingly on the morrow, when the robbers were well out of sight and hearing, he came down from the tree, went to the hut, and uttered the words of the charm that he had heard. The door immediately opened to him, and he entered. He found immense piles of valuable treasure in the place -- gold and silver, and precious stones, and sundry articles of curious workmanship were stored up there in abundance. He arranged as much of the treasure as he could place on a camel that he found grazing near, and then, repeating the charm, shut the door and went home. His mother was delighted to see the result of her son's day's work. The following morning the younger prince thought that he also would visit this jungle and try his luck. So he quickly learnt the words of the charm and started. He arrived at the jungle, and climbed the same tree near the hut, and waited there patiently for the robbers' coming. Just before dark they appeared, bringing with them several loads of treasure. On reaching the hut they entered by means of the charm, as before. Great was their surprise and anger when they found that some person had been to the place and taken some of the things. They uttered such terrible oaths, and vowed such fearful vengeance on the offender, that the prince up in the tree trembled exceedingly, and began to repent his adventure. In the morning the robbers again left; and as soon as they were well out of the way the boy descended the tree and went and repeated the charm whereby the door of the hut was opened. The door obeyed, and he entered. But, alas! the door closed as soon as he was inside, and would not open again, although the boy shouted till he was hoarse, and begged and prayed that he might be set free. Evidently the poor boy had omitted or added something to the words of the charm, and thus brought this misfortune on himself. Terrible must have been his feelings as he counted the hours to the robbers' return, and tried to imagine what they would do to him, when they saw him there! It was vain to hope for escape. He was shut up in a prison of his own making, and must bear the consequences. Before nightfall sounds of approaching footsteps were heard, and presently the door opened and the robbers came in. A savage gleam of delight passed over their countenances as they saw the youngster crouching away in a corner and weeping. 'Oh! oh!' they exclaimed. 'This is the thief that dares to intrude into our quarters, is it? We'll cut him into pieces and strew them about the place, that others may fear to follow in his steps.' This they really did, for they were bloodthirsty and had no feeling, and then went to sleep. The next day they started off on their marauding expeditions as usual, as if nothing had happened. While they were absent the eldest prince arrived to see what had become of his brother, and to help him in carrying away the spoil. His grief was inexpressible when he saw the pieces of flesh strewn about the place. 'They shall rue this,' he exclaimed, and caused the door of the hut to be opened by means of the charm and entered. He collected the most valuable articles that he could lay hands on and put them into a sack. Afterwards he emptied the contents of another sack on the ground outside the hut, and placed the pieces of his brother's corpse in it. And then, having repeated the charm and shut the door, he took up the two sacks, threw them over his shoulder, and walked home. On reaching home he had the pieces sewed up in a cloth and buried. When the robbers returned that evening and discovered what had happened they were very angry. They resolved to find the thief, and took an oath to rob no more until they had accomplished their desire. They went to the city, and lodged in different parts of the bázár, in order that they might ascertain if anyone was living there who had suddenly become rich. One of the robbers happened to meet with the tailor who had made the grave-clothes for the young prince who had been so foully slaughtered, and heard from him that the mother and brother of the boy seemed to have got a lot of money lately, but how he could not say. Some people said that they were members of some royal family, but he did not know. Accordingly the robber went and found out the house where the queen and prince were living. He marked it, so that he might know it again, and then hastened to inform the rest of the band. However, the prince had fortunately noticed the mark, and guessing what it meant, went and marked several of the adjoining houses in the same way. He thus thoroughly nonplussed the robbers. 'This plan will not do,' they said. 'One of us had better get to know through the tailor where these people live, and then go to the house and cultivate their friendship. An opportunity for despatching the prince would soon be afforded.' This was agreed to unanimously, and the leader of the robber band was voted to the work. He soon made friends with the young prince and his mother, and was received into the house at all times as a welcome guest. One day, however, the woman observed a dagger hidden beneath his coat, and from this and one or two other things that she afterwards noticed, decided in her mind that the man was no friend, but an enemy and a robber. She wished to be rid of him. Consequently one evening she suggested to her son and his friend that she should dance before them, and they agreed. In her hand she had a sword, which she waved about most gracefully. Now she approached the robber, and now she receded slowly and smoothly, and accommodated her gestures to a song, till at length she saw her opportunity, and running against the robber, struck off his head. 'What have you done, mother?' exclaimed the prince, who was horror-struck. 'I have simply changed places with our friend,' she replied. 'Instead of him murdering you, I have murdered him. Look! Behold the dagger with which he would have slain you.' 'O mother,' said the prince, 'how shall I ever he able to repay you for your watchfulness over me. I did not notice anything wrong about the man. I never saw his dagger before. This must be one of the robbers, come to wreak vengeance on me for taking some of their treasure.' When the robber band knew of the death of their leader they divided the spoil and retired to their different villages. The young prince married, and became a banker and prospered exceedingly.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,The Two Brothers,Slavic,NA,"Alexander Chodzko, Fairy Tales of the Slav Peasants and Herdsmen (London: George Allen, 1896), pp. 3-9.","Once upon a time there were two brothers whose father had left them but a small fortune. The eldest grew very rich, but at the same time cruel and wicked, whereas there was nowhere a more honest or kinder man than the younger. But he remained poor, and had many children, so that at times they could scarcely get bread to eat. At last, one day there was not even this in the house, so he went to his rich brother and asked him for a loaf of bread. Waste of time! His rich brother only called him beggar and vagabond, and slammed the door in his face. The poor fellow, after this brutal reception, did not know which way to turn. Hungry, scantily clad, shivering with cold, his legs could scarcely carry him along. He had not the heart to go home, with nothing for the children, so he went towards the mountain forest. But all he found there were some wild pears that had fallen to the ground. He had to content himself with eating these, though they set his teeth on edge. But what was he to do to warm himself, for the east wind with its chill blast pierced him through and through. 'Where shall I go?' he said; 'what will become of us in the cottage? There is neither food nor fire, and my brother has driven me from his door.' It was just then he remembered having heard that the top of the mountain in front of him was made of crystal, and had a fire for ever burning upon it. 'I will try and find it,' he said, 'and then I may be able to warm myself a little.' So he went on climbing higher and higher till he reached the top, when he was startled to see twelve strange beings sitting round a huge fire. He stopped for a moment, but then said to himself, 'What have I to lose? Why should I fear? God is with me. Courage!' So he advanced towards the fire, and bowing respectfully, said: 'Good people, take pity on my distress. I am very poor, no one cares for me, I have not even a fire in my cottage; will you let me warm myself at yours?' They all looked kindly at him, and one of them said: 'My son, come sit down with us and warm yourself.' So he sat down, and felt warm directly he was near them. But he dared not speak while they were silent. What astonished him most was that they changed seats one after another, and in such a way that each one passed round the fire and came back to his own place. When he drew near the fire an old man with long white beard and bald head arose from the flames and spoke to him thus: 'Man, waste not thy life here; return to thy cottage, work, and live honestly. Take as many embers as thou wilt, we have more than we need.' And having said this he disappeared. Then the twelve filled a large sack with embers, and, putting it on the poor man's shoulders, advised him to hasten home. Humbly thanking them, he set off. As he went he wondered why the embers did not feel hot, and why they should weigh no more than a sack of paper. He was thankful that he should be able to have a fire, but imagine his astonishment when on arriving home he found the sack to contain as many gold pieces as there had been embers; he almost went out of his mind with joy at the possession of so much money. With all his heart he thanked those who had been so ready to help him in his need. He was now rich, and rejoiced to be able to provide for his family. Being curious to find out how many gold pieces there were, and not knowing how to count, he sent his wife to his rich brother for the loan of a quart measure. This time the brother was in a better temper, so he lent what was asked of him, but said mockingly, 'What can such beggars as you have to measure?' The wife replied, 'Our neighbour owes us some wheat; we want to be sure he returns us the right quantity.' The rich brother was puzzled, and suspecting something he, unknown to his sister-in-law, put some grease inside the measure. The trick succeeded, for on getting it back he found a piece of gold sticking to it. Filled with astonishment, he could only suppose his brother had joined a band of robbers; so he hurried to his brother's cottage, and threatened to bring him before the Justice of the Peace if he did not confess where the gold came from. The poor man was troubled, and, dreading to offend his brother, told the story of his journey to the Crystal Mountain. Now the elder brother had plenty of money for himself, yet he was envious of the brother's good fortune, and be came greatly displeased when he found that his brother won every one's esteem by the good use he made of his wealth. At last he determined to visit the Crystal Mountain himself. 'I may meet with as good luck as my brother,' said he to himself. Upon reaching the Crystal Mountain he found the twelve seated round the fire as before, and thus addressed them: 'I beg of you, good people, to let me warm myself, for it is bitterly cold, and I am poor and homeless.' But one of them replied, 'My son, the hour of thy birth was favourable; thou art rich, but a miser; thou art wicked, for thou hast dared to lie to us. Well dost thou deserve thy punishment.' Amazed and terrified he stood silent, not daring to speak. Meanwhile the twelve changed places one after another, each at last returning to his own seat. Then from the midst of the flames arose the white-bearded old man and spoke thus sternly to the rich man: 'Woe unto the wilful! Thy brother is virtuous, therefore have I blessed him. As for thee, thou art wicked, and so shall not escape our vengeance.' At these words the twelve arose. The first seized the unfortunate man, struck him, and passed him on to the second; the second also struck him and passed him on to the third; and so did they all in their turn, until he was given up to the old man, who disappeared with him into the fire. Days, weeks, months went by, but the rich man never returned, and none knew what had become of him. I think, between you and me, the younger brother had his suspicions but he very wisely kept them to himself.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
954,The Two Brothers and the Forty-Nine Dragons,Greece (Syros),NA,"Edmund Martin Geldart, Folk-Lore of Modern Greece: The Tales of the People (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1884), pp. 9-17.","Once upon a time there were two brothers. One was very rich and had four children, the other was very poor and had seven children. One day the poor man's wife went to the rich man and said to him, 'I am very wretched, for I have not enough bread for my children. I take a little meal and I mix it with a great deal of bran and so manage to make bread. It is well nigh a year since my children have had any relish with their meals; they get nothing but bread and water.' He answered her: 'And yet your children are so strong, while mine, with all their feeding and the comforts they enjoy, are always ailing!' The poor woman said, 'God has given us poverty and hunger, but thanks be to Heaven, our children are hale and hearty. Now, therefore, I have come to beg you, if you have any work, not to send for anyone but me, so may God send health to your children!' and as she spoke these words, the tears ran from her eyes like a river. Then he called his wife and said to her: 'Have we any work for her to come and do for us daily, so that she may not sit idle?' His wife answered him: 'Let her come twice a week and knead bread for us.' When she heard these words she was glad, for she thought at once, that when she kneaded that fine white bread they would give her some of it, and her poor children would eat and rejoice. So she rose to go away. And they said to her: 'Good-bye, and remember to come tomorrow morning.' Thus they bade her farewell without giving her a scrap of anything. As she set off home she said to herself, 'Would that I were rich, that I might open my cupboard, and bring forth a bit of cheese, or a piece of bread, or at least a little rice, or such like household store to gladden the hearts of the poor!' and lifting her hands to heaven she said: 'Why, oh my God, hast thou made me so poor?' And so she went weeping home where her children were waiting for her ever so eagerly, hoping she might bring them something. But alas, poor thing, she came with empty hands. The next day she went very early in the morning to the rich man's house to knead bread, and when she had kneaded it and ended her work, they bade her farewell and told her to be sure and come next time, without giving her so much as a cup of cold water. As soon as she came home the children said to her: ' Have you brought us anything, mother?' 'No!' she said. 'Maybe, when they have done baking they will send us a bit of bread.' But in vain she waited, and when evening came not a loaf nor a plate of anything to eat appeared. In two or three days they sent word for her to come and knead again, for they liked her kneading much. Then the poor woman arose and went again; and as she was kneading the thought came into her head, not to wash her hands till she got home, and then to wash them in a dish, and to give the wash to her children instead of plain water. So as soon as she had done kneading, she hurried away, and when she got home she said to her children, 'Wait till I give you a little milk-soup.' And washing her hands well of the dough, she filled a good dish, and gave each one a little to drink. And they liked it so much that they said, 'Mother, whenever you go to knead, mind you bring us some of that broth to drink.' A month passed while she went on at this work. And it seems that God blessed her children, for they grew fatter than ever. One day as the rich man was passing by the poor man's house, he put his head in at the door and said, 'How do you do here?' Then he turns and looks at all the children, and is amazed to see how fat they seem; and going out at the door in a rage, he went home to his wife and called her: 'Come here and tell me what you give to my sister-in-law who comes to knead for us.' Now she was frightened at the way he shouted at her and said, 'I never gave her anything yet, because I am so afraid of giving her too much and your scolding me.' Says he, 'You must have given her something, for her children are so fat they look as if they would burst.' Then she swore an oath and said, 'She takes nothing away with her but her unwashed hands and she washes them at home, and gives the wash to her children to drink.' When he heard that he said, 'Put a stop to that too.' So the next day when the woman went to knead, her mistress waited until she had finished, and when she had done, said to her, 'Wash your hands well and then go.' When the poor woman heard that her countenance fell, and she quailed with grief to think how she should go to her children, and they would beg the milk-soup of her. When she came to her house her children were gathered together awaiting her, and as soon as they saw her come in they all cried with one voice: 'What have you got, mother?' 'Nothing, children; I forgot myself and washed my hands!' All the children began to weep and to cry, 'How could you so forget us, as not to bring us that beautiful broth?' While they were thus weeping and wailing, the father entered the house and said, 'What ails the children that they cry?' Then she told him all that had happened, and he was sorely grieved, and made up his mind to kill himself, and so that his wife might not guess his purpose, he asked her for a bag to go to the hill and gather herbs. She gave it him, and he went away. And as he wandered about bewildered for a long while, he found himself at the top of a high crag, and there he made up his mind to fling himself down and die. Then he spied facing the crag a great castle, and he said to himself, 'Before I kill myself, I may as well go and see what that castle is like.' And drawing near he saw a tree, and he climbed up into it to see who lived in the castle. After a little while he looked, and behold, a number of dragons came out ! He counted them, and they were forty-nine. When the dragons were gone, they left the door open, for that was always their custom. So he climbed down from the tree and went into the castle and walked about it, and saw that it contained much treasure. Then he took his bag and filled it with as much as his back could carry, and went away at once, for he feared lest the dragons should catch him. When they came back they perceived that a thief had been and stolen some of their money, and from henceforth they determined that one of them should always stay behind in the castle. The poor man returned to the town two days later, and found his wife weeping and refusing to be comforted, for she feared that his affliction had led him to go and kill himself. But when she saw him come back she praised God because he came alive. Then said her husband to her, 'Wife, God has taken pity on our children and on you, who made bread so long at my brother's house, though they never gave you a morsel to feed our little ones. See, here we have enough to live for some time.' And opening his bag he showed her the coins. She was a pious woman, so she said, 'The first thing you must buy is some oil that we may light a lamp to our Lady, which we have not done for so long.' And her husband hearkened unto her and straightway went and bought oil, and when they had lighted the lamp they prayed with all their hearts and with tears in their eyes. The next day her husband arose, and the first thing he did was to buy a house; and he moved into it with his homely furniture and his poor children. On the first evening he said to his wife, 'From day to day we will buy what we want for the house, but nothing more, for we must bear in mind how you used to give milk-soup to the children to drink, to save them from dying of hunger.' 'Yes,' said she, 'I will never ask you for anything that we do not want.' Two months passed during which these people lived happily. They did nothing else but go to church and help the poor. One day, then, the wife of the rich man came to visit her poor kinswoman, for she had heard from many that she was now well off, and she herself had begun to suffer misfortune; all her sheep had died, her fields had brought forth no crops, the frost had bitten many of her trees, and she had met with many other mishaps. When the poor woman saw her without being in the least affronted to think how little she had helped her in her own misery, she welcomed her joyfully, and gave her the best seat, and put before her the best things she had to eat in the house; whereas the other, when she went, had only received her in the kitchen, and never asked her to sit down! After some time, she said, 'Sister, pray tell me, where has your husband found work, that my husband may try and find some too, for we have fallen into great distress.' And the poor woman answered her, 'My husband has not got any employment, but the day you made me wash my hands he went away -- ' and then she told her all that had happened. Then the rich woman asked her to take her husband and show him the dragons. 'Perhaps,' said she, 'we, too, may thus find succour.' And the poor one said to her, 'When my husband comes this evening I will tell him, and your husband can go tomorrow, with a bag, along with him.' When the poor man came home at nightfall, his wife told him what had passed, and he said to her, 'I will go and show him the place, but I will not go to gather more treasures for myself, for this which I have God blesses, and it grows from day to day.' Next morning the rich man came with his bag on his back, and said to him, 'Good morrow, brother, how do you do? Are you well?' Whereas at other times, if he saw his brother in the way he would turn his back upon him, or take another road, so as not to hear him say that he wanted any help. But when the poor man saw him he got up and kissed him, and said, 'Welcome, brother; I daresay it's ten years since I had the happiness of seeing you enter my house.' 'Yes,' said the rich one, 'but now I have fallen into distress, and know not what to do.' Says the poor man, 'Let us go; perhaps you will have good luck yet, and get as rich as ever.' So they set off for the hill. And when they got there he showed him the tree, and said to him, 'Go aloft and sit in the tree, and soon the dragons will come out. Count them. If there are forty-nine you can come down and enter the castle free from fear; but if, peradventure, they are but forty-eight, do not go in.' With these words he went away. In a little while the dragons came out, and he began to count them. But it seems he counted them wrong, and instead of saying forty-eight he said forty-nine. So he came down as fast as he could and went into the castle, and eagerly looked about to see where the treasure was, that he might fill his bag and be gone with all speed, and as he stood there he heard a voice saying, 'So you are the thief, and have come back to steal more!' And lo! out comes the dragon which had been watching in a room close by, and seizes him by the head and makes four quarters of him, and hangs them up at the four corners of the dwelling. When the dragons came home, he said to them, 'There's no need to keep watch any longer, for I have hung up the four quarters of the thief, and they will guard our castle for us!' And from that day forward they determined, none of them to stay at home, but all of them to go out, and so they began to do. When two days had passed away the wife of the rich man got restless, and went to the house of her brother-in-law to ask him what they had done with her husband. But the poor man told her what directions he had given him, and said, 'I don't know whether he has counted the dragons right, but I will go and see.' And off he went. When he came near to the castle, he got up into the tree, and when the dragons came out he counted them with great care, and they were forty-nine in all. Then he came down and went into the castle and looked right and left for his brother. And raising his eyes he looked aloft and beheld his brother hanging in four quarters, and he was sore amazed. Then he lost no time in taking him down, filling his bag with money and going away. When he got home he felt very weary and sad, and said to his wife, 'Send someone to my sister-in-law's to tell her to come and take charge of her husband.' And when she came she wept, and would not be comforted on beholding her husband cut into four quarters. Then she said to the poor man, 'You must find me a tailor to sew him together, for I cannot bury him like that in four pieces.' The poor man went out at once and got a tailor, who sewed him together. When they had buried and bewailed him, the poor man opened the bag and gave his sister-in-law half the money, and said to her, 'Go and get succour for yourself and your children, and if you are in want again, do not blush to come and ask me for what you need.' The widow went home with tears in her eyes. Let us leave them and return to the dragons. When they reached their castle and found the dead man was gone, they all cried aloud, 'So the thief has an accomplice!' The next day, therefore, they went into the town and sought for a tailor to make them forty-nine coats and forty-nine pairs of shoes. So they said to the tailor, 'Mind you sew them well so that the stitches don't come out and that they fit us nicely!' And they said it over and over again till the tailor got angry and said to them, 'Here's a fuss! Why yesterday I had to sew a dead man, who was in four bits, together, and they were quite satisfied with the job, though it was out of my line, and you with your coats are like to craze me!' Then they said to him, 'Pray do you know the man who brought you the dead man to sew?' Said he, 'Of course I do, he lives quite close, and if you like I will show you his house, so that you can go and ask him, whether the dead man was well sewed or not.' So he took a dragon with him, and after walking twenty good paces, he showed them the shop. Then they went away to a joiner's, and ordered forty-eight chests, just big enough for them to get into. When they were finished, the forty-eight dragons got inside, and the forty-ninth remained outside. And in the morning the dragon went to the poor man's place, and said to him, 'I have had forty-eight chests sent me and I want you to be so kind as to let me leave them here for the night.' 'Not for one night only,' he answered, 'but let them stay as long as you like, and until it suits you to take them away.' And he got porters to bring them in. Then the children of the poor man began to get upon the chests, and jump about, and play on them; and the dragons who were inside, from time to time, groaned and said, 'Ah, would it were dark that we might eat them all.' One of the children was playing hide-and-seek with the rest, and he heard these words and these groanings. So he ran to his father and said: 'Those chests are bewitched; they are talking.' Then the father thought a moment, and said, 'Forty-eight! and the one that brought them makes forty-nine.' And he went close up to the chests, and put his ear at the key-hole, and he, too, heard the groaning. So he said to himself, 'Now, monsters, I'll make sure of you, now that I have got you in my power.' So off he set at once, and went and bought forty-eight spits, and lighted his kitchen fire, and put them in, and made them red hot, and took them one by one, and thrust them into all the chests. Then he said to his servant, 'Look here, my man, they have played us a trick, and put a dragon in a chest, and if we had not killed it, it would have eaten us all up.' The servant was angry, and said to his master, 'Give it me, and let me go sink it by the sea shore?' And he took it on his back, and threw it on to the beach. While he was on his way back, his master made ready another one, and said, 'You did not throw it far enough out to sea, and it has come back.' And as often as he returned he did the same with all, and threw them into the sea. But when he got to the last one he grew tired of always coming back and finding one there again, so he walked right into the sea, and plunged it in deep, and when he got back to the shop he called out: 'Master, is it back again?' And his master answered, 'No, no, it has not come back. You must have thrown it in very deep.' 'Aye, master,' said he, 'I went right into the sea, and plunged it in, and left it.' In the morning the dragon came to see what had become of the chests, and the merchant cunningly told him that one chest was found open, 'and I don't know,' says he, 'what you had inside.' He was seized with fear, and went to look at the chests, which were in the back part of the shop. And he found the chest was indeed open, and he trembled. The merchant lost no time, but seized him and flung him into the chest, and made it fast forthwith, and straightway spitted him, and so they were all done for. And the man himself inherited the dragon's castle, and lived there as happy as a prince, and may we live happier still.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1675,How an Ox Became Mayor,Netherlands,"Boekenoogen's source: C. Bakker, who collected this tale in 1901 in Broek, Waterland. Leiden is an important center of learning and culture in the Netherlands. The name in English is often spelled Leyden.","G. J. Boekenoogen, 'Van den os die burgemeester werd,' Volkskunde: Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsche Folklore, vol. 16 (1904), pp. 53-54.","Once upon a time there was a peasant who had a great deal of money but very little understanding. He was just plain stupid. He had no children, but he did have a wife, an ox, and a donkey. This peasant had heard a lot said about the university, and that one could learn a lot there, so he became more and more curious about it. One day he was talking about it with a joker, who said, 'What people have told you about the university is nothing. Did you know that there they can make educated people out of dumb animals?' 'You don't say so!' said the peasant. 'I'm going to give that a try. My ox is so smart that when I say 'gideeup' to my donkey, he starts to walk as well.' So the peasant went to Leiden with his ox. He rang at the university, and a student came to him, asking him what he wanted. 'I would like to speak with the professor,' said the peasant, 'for my ox is going to go to the university.' 'Oh,' said the student, 'then just come along with me.' Of course he did not take the peasant to a professor, but rather to one of his fellow students. After the peasant had explained why he was there, the student said it was good, and that he would be able to leave the ox there. Then they spoke about the tuition charges, and to start, the peasant had to pay seventy guilders. He thought that was expensive, but he paid it nonetheless, and left his ox in Leiden. A month later the peasant thought, 'I really must go now and see how my student is doing,' and he set forth on his way. To be sure, the ox was not at home. 'He just went to a lecture,' said the student. 'But it is good that you came, because more money is due.' The peasant paid and went home again. Every time that he came he received the same message, and he had to pay. He was told that the ox was learning well. This continued for about a year and a half, and it began to trouble the peasant that he always had to pay but was never able to see his animal. He became angry and said that he wanted to take back his ox. 'Didn't he write to you that he is just beginning his examinations?' said the student. 'He will pass them, but it all costs money.' 'Well,' said the peasant, 'in that case I'll pay another hundred guilders. But this is the very last time!' After again hearing nothing, the peasant one day went to Leiden with the firm resolve to take the ox home with him. When he told the student his intentions, the latter said to him, 'I don't understand! Didn't he write to you? He passed his examinations with honors and now has a very good position. He is the mayor of Amsterdam.' 'That was inconsiderate of him not to write to me,' said the peasant. 'But I'll get hold of him!' So he went to Amsterdam. At that time, as it happened, there was a mayor there whose name was Ox. The student, of course, knew this. The peasant rang at his door and asked if the mayor was at home. 'Yes,' replied his servant. 'What do you want?' The peasant explained that he was the mayor's owner, and had come to take him away. The servant did not understand this at all and thought he was dealing with a lunatic. The peasant persisted, and the two began cursing one another. Then the mayor happened by, and he told the servant to calm himself down. He invited the peasant to come in and say what he had to say. He told the entire story about the ox and the university. But it was too much for the mayor when the peasant said in conclusion, 'Now I'm going to put a halter on you so my wife can get a look at you as well.' And the mayor had him thrown out the door. So the peasant went away unsatisfied. Arriving home, he said to his wife, 'Yes, it is true that they really can do things there in Leiden, for they made an educated man out of our ox. But there is not much in it for us.' Netherlands. The name in English is often spelled Leyden.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1675,How the Washerman's Ass Became a Qazi,India,"A qazi (also spelled kazi, qadi, or kadi) is a judge with jurisdiction in Islamic sharia law.","'A Folktale Told by Shekh Abdulla of Mirzapur,' North Indian Notes and Queries, vol. 2, no. 10 (January 1893), item 642, p. 174.","There was a certain school master who had a very stupid pupil. One day, when he did not know his lesson, the master called him 'Ass.' A fool of a washerman who was passing by, on hearing this, said: 'Mr. Teacher, was this boy once a donkey?' 'Yes,' said the master, 'he was a donkey, and my teaching has made a man of him.' The washerman said: 'I have nothing in the world but an ass, and if you can turn him into a man, I shall be delighted to bring him to you.' 'All right,' said the teacher. 'Go and bring him.' So the washerman came up, thrashing his ass to make him come quickly; and asked the teacher: 'How long will it take to turn my ass into a man?' 'A year's time,' replied the teacher. A year after he returned and asked the master where his ass was. The master replied: 'Your ass has become the qazi of so-and-so city, and draws a salary of 1,000 rupees a month, and holds a court.' By chance, when the washerman first went to the teacher, the qazi was in the school and knew all about the master. The washerman asked the way to the qazi's court and went on. The qazi did not know him and paid no attention to him. The washerman came back and said to the master: 'In truth he has become a great man, and when I went into his court he did not even look at me.' The master replied: 'Of course, he won't notice you if you approach him in this way as he is a great officer on a high salary. But take a rope and hobble and go into his court and shake them and say: 'Have you forgotten the rope and hobble with which you used to be tied?'' He did as he was told, and then the qazi remembered the circumstance, and he thought: 'If I don't get rid somehow of this fellow I shall become a laughingstock.' So the qazi gave the washerman a thousand rupees and dismissed him. The washerman showed the master the money, and he took half of it as the feed of the ass. The washerman went home blessing his good luck, and in this way every year he used to receive a present from the qazi and lived a happy man for the rest of his days. There lived, many years ago, in the city of Azimgurh, in the northwest of India, a Moslem priest, or 'mullah,' who, as is usual with that class, added to his income by teaching the Mohammedan youths of the place. By chance an old washerman, or 'dhobi,' and his wife, while traveling homewards, came to the city and put up under a tree adjoining the mosque where the priest lived, and tied their ass to the tree. The old couple were rich, but were unfortunately childless. Some time during the day of their arrival, they caught a glimpse of a man who was gesticulating before the priest in a tone of violent complaint, and they could not help hearing all that he said, 'You are the priest,' he called out, 'and I have paid you all the fees you asked, but you have taught my son nothing at all, and every day he is either idling or playing about in the dusty roads with other worthless urchins.' Upon this the priest became greatly enraged, and retorted, 'Not taught him anything! It is false. He has been educated like the rest.' Yah Yah ka kulma partraya Gudhê sê admi bunaya. Which means, 'I have taught him the creed of Yah Yah, or of the righteous ones, and though he came to me an ass, I have made him into a man. You ungrateful wretch! I will have nothing further to say to him, and you may take him out of the school.' Upon this the man left the priest and went away down the road. The ignorant old washerman and his equally old and ignorant wife, having been silent listeners of all this conversation, put their heads together and began to talk of what they had heard. The washerman said to his wife, 'Did you not hear the priest say that he had changed an ass into a man, and you know priests can do wonderful things! I am just thinking that if he could work a change in our ass and make out of him a son for us, what a blessing it would be! For we have only this one thing short of being completely happy.' The old wife eagerly caught at the idea, and replied, 'Yes! Allah has given us much wealth, but what good will it be to us when we die. Strangers will get it. But if we had a son, he would inherit it, and our cup of joy on earth would be full to the brim. Let us go to the priest and make a bargain with him, that the curse of having no son may no longer rest upon us.' Whereupon they both sought an audience of the priest, and approaching him, said, 'Oh, sir! We are both very old, as you see, but we have plenty of money. But, sir, saddest of all things to tell you is that we are childless. Now, sir, we overheard you say that you had transformed an ass into a man. We have an ass, but we have not a son. Would you be so good as to change him for us, and we will give you any sum that you like to name.' The priest was struck all of a heap with surprise and astonishment at this preposterous request. He said nothing for some minutes, but simply stared at the aged old couple while he collected his thoughts. 'These people must clearly have heard me speaking angrily to the father of the worthless scholar, and have taken my words altogether in a literal sense. But here is evidently a run of luck for me which must not be thrown away.' Thus he soliloquized, and the old couplet fixed itself in his thoughts: Gân kê pooreh-get muth ki heenay Khuda tujhê deta-mai leta keunnahin. These are rich in purse but weak in intellect; Allah gives you the chance, why should you not take it? Then after this little pause he turned to them and said, 'I have been considering what is best to be done for you. To comply with your request is indeed a difficult task, though not impossible. If you will tie your ass to that tree, and come to me a year hence, you shall have a son, for it will take all that time to make so complete a transformation. Give me now therefore one thousand rupees, and go back to your home, and be sure you return to me punctually in a year's time.' The old people were only too pleased to close with the priest, so they paid him the money, tied the ass to the tree, wished him a hearty farewell, and went on their journey homewards. When a year had elapsed the old washerman and his wife, with their hearts bounding with delight at the prospect of welcoming a son and heir, started on their travels again to meet the priest, and in due time arrived at the mosque. 'We have come, sir,' they said, 'according to promise, to claim our son.' The priest replied, 'You are indeed a couple of old fools. If you had been true to your time and had come a week ago, you would have seen him. But now, owing to his great learning, he as been appointed to the 'qazi' (doctor of Mohammedan law) at Jaunpur.' The priest had hit upon this ruse, and had determined to play off a joke on this qazi, of whom he was extremely jealous. 'But,' replied the old couple, getting alarmed, 'how is it possible that he will recognize us unless you accompany us?' 'Don't distress yourselves. I cannot go, but if you will take this rope with which you always tethered your ass, and the 'tobrâ' or nosebag in which the ass had his grain, and go to Jaunpur, all your difficulties will vanish. Time your arrival in the city on a Friday at the hour of prayer in the mosque. You will see a large concourse of people being addressed by your son, who was, you know, your ass. Put yourselves in a position where the qazi can plainly see you, then keep shaking the rope and the nosebag, and he will soon discover who you are, and come and claim you as his father and mother.' So off they went to the city of Jaunpur, reached it on a Friday, and went straight to the mosque, placed themselves in a conspicuous part of the outer building within sight of the qazi, and began, with a vengeance, to whisk before him the nosebag and the rope. In a very short time the qazi noticed this strange proceeding, and sent one of the congregation to find out the cause, but they told him to tell the qazi that they had a profound secret which could only be told to the qazi himself and to no other mortal. The qazi, impelled by curiosity, asked permission of his audience for a few moments of leave, and then taking the old couple aside, he begged of them to tell him the reason of their strange behavior. With bated breath, and with the deepest earnestness did the old washerman and his wife pour into the qazi's ears the whole of the strange story of his having once been their ass; how for years they had overloaded him with kindness, and never spared the cudgel when he had been obstinate; how they deeply regretted their conduct towards one now so exalted as they saw their son to be; how, but for the wonderful power of the Priest of Azimgurh such a blessing would never have come to them; and how their cup of happiness was now complete. The qazi at once took in the situation, and saw the plot that his arch enemy had so cleverly planned against him. And being a wise man, he thought to himself, 'If I repudiate this absurd story, in the belief of which these ignorant people have bound up their lives, it will be sure to be published abroad, to my own annoyance, and from being respected I shall be mocked and turned into ridicule, and in fact be the laughingstock of the place. I am resolved what to do. I will quietly acquiesce in what they say, and so get rid of them.' Turning to the old couple he said, 'Yes, it is all too true, and from henceforth your interests are my interests. Your good name is identical with mine, and I will carry it on. But let me bind you by all that you hold sacred that you never breathe a word of this marvelous change that has taken place in my being and existence. If you never reveal this secret, I will be a dutiful son to you all my life.' This the old washerman and his wife agreed to abide by in every iota, only stipulating that when they died, which in the course of nature was not far off, he would be present to see them interred according to Mohammedan rites. This the qazi on his part faithfully promised to do, and the old couple took their departure to their own home with every expression of joy and delight, and left all their money to him when they died. from the Indus, revised and corrected (Brighton: R. Gosden, 1908), pp. 104-109.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1675,Peter Ox,Denmark,"Link to this tale in Danish: Sven Grundtvig, 'Peder Oxe,' Danske Folkeæventyr: Efter Utrykte Kilder (Copenhagen: J. Jørgensen, 1876), no. 18, pp. 214-21. Jutland (Danish Jylland) is the portion of Denmark that is attached to the main continent of Europe.","Sven Grundtvig, Danish Fairy Tales, translated by J. Grant Cramer (Boston: Richard G. Badger, The Gorham Press, 1912), pp. 15-21.","There were once upon a time a peasant and his wife who lived in Jutland, but they had no children. They often lamented that fact and were also sad to think that they had no relatives to whom to leave their farm and other possessions. So the years went by and they became richer and richer, but there was no one to inherit their wealth. One year the farmer bought a fine calf which he called Peter, and it was really the finest animal that he had ever seen, and so clever that it seemed to understand nearly everything that one said to it. It was also very amusing and affectionate, so that the man and his wife soon became as fond of it as if it were their own child. One day the farmer said to his wife, 'Perhaps the sexton of our church could teach Peter to talk then we could not do better than to adopt him as our child, and he could then inherit all our property.' 'Who can tell?' said the wife, 'Our sexton is a learned man and perhaps he might be able to teach Peter to talk, for Peter is really very clever. Suppose you ask the sexton.' So the farmer went over to the sexton and asked him whether he did not believe that he could teach his calf to talk, because he wanted to make the animal his heir. The crafty sexton looked around to see that no one was near, and then said that he thought he could do so. 'Only you must not tell anybody,' he said, 'for it must be a great secret, and the minister in particular must not know anything about it, or I might get into serious trouble as such things are strictly forbidden. Moreover it will cost a pretty penny as we shall need rare and expensive books.' The farmer said that he did not mind, and handing the sexton a hundred dollars to buy books with, promised not to say a word about the arrangement to anyone. That evening the man brought his calf to the sexton who promised to do his best. In about a week the farmer returned to see how his calf was getting on, but the sexton said that he did not dare let him see the animal, else Peter might become homesick and forget all that he had already learned. Otherwise he was making good progress, but the farmer must pay another hundred dollars, as Peter needed more books. The peasant happened to have the money with him, so he gave it to the sexton and went home filled with hope and pleasant anticipations. At the end of another week the man again went to make inquiry about Peter, and was told by the sexton that he was doing fairly well. 'Can he say anything?' asked the farmer. 'Yes, he can say 'ma,'' answered the sexton. 'The poor animal is surely ill,' said the peasant, 'and he probably wants mead. I will go straight home and bring him a jug of it.' So he fetched a jug of good, old mead and gave it to the sexton for Peter. The sexton, however, kept the mead and gave the calf some milk instead. A week later the farmer came again to find out what Peter could say now. 'He still refuses to say anything but 'ma,'' said the sexton. 'Oh! he is a cunning rogue;' said the peasant, 'so he wants more mead, does he? Well, I'll get him some more, as he likes it so much. But what progress has he made?' 'He is doing so well,' answered the sexton, 'that he needs another hundred dollars' worth of books, for he cannot learn anything more from those that he has now.' 'Well then, if he needs them he shall have them.' So that same day the farmer brought another hundred dollars and a jug of good, old mead for Peter. Now the peasant allowed a few weeks to elapse without calling on Peter, for he began to be afraid that each visit would cost him a hundred dollars. In the meantime the calf had become as fat as he would ever be, so the sexton killed him and sold the meat carefully at a distance from the village. Having done that he put on his black clothes and went to call on the farmer and his wife. As soon as he had bid them good day he asked them whether Peter had reached home safe and sound. 'Why no,' said the farmer, 'he has not run away, has he?' 'I hope,' said the sexton, 'that after all the trouble I have taken he has not been so tricky as to run away and to abuse my confidence so shamefully. For I have spent at least a hundred dollars of my own money to pay for books for him. Now Peter could say whatever he wanted, and he was telling me only yesterday that he was longing to see his dear parents. As I wanted to give him that pleasure, but feared that he would not be able to find his way home alone, I dressed myself and started out with him. We were hardly in the street when I suddenly remembered that I had left my stick at home, so I ran back to get it. When I came out of the house again, I found that Peter had run on alone. I thought, of course, that he had gone back to your house. If he is not there, I certainly do not know where he can be.' Then the people began to weep and lament that Peter was lost, now especially when they might have had such pleasure with him, and after paying out so much money for his education. And the worst of it was that they were again without an heir. The sexton tried to comfort them and was also very sorry that Peter had deceived them so. But perhaps he had only lost his way, and the sexton promised that he would ask publicly in church next Sunday whether somebody had not seen the calf. Then he bade the farmer and his wife good-bye and went home and had some good roast veal for dinner. One day the sexton read in the paper that a new merchant, named Peter Ox, had settled in the neighboring town. He put the paper into his pocket and went straight to the farmer and read this item of news to him. 'One might almost believe,' he said, 'that this is your calf.' 'Why yes,' said the farmer, 'who else should it be?' Then his wife added, 'Yes father, go at once to see him, for I feel sure that it can be no other than our dear Peter. But take along plenty of money for he probably needs it now that he has become a merchant.' On the following morning the farmer put a bag of money on his shoulder, took with him some provisions, and started to walk to the town where the merchant lived. Early next morning he arrived there and went straight to the merchant's house. The servants told the man that the merchant had not gotten up yet. 'That does not make any difference for I am his father; just take me up to his room.' So they took the peasant up to the bedroom where the merchant lay sound asleep. And as soon as the farmer saw him, he recognized Peter. There were the same thick neck and broad forehead and the same red hair, but otherwise he looked just like a human being. Then the man went to him and bade him good morning and said, 'Well, Peter, you caused your mother and me great sorrow when you ran away as soon as you had learned something. But get up now and let me have a look at you and talk with you.' The merchant, of course, believed that he had a crazy man to deal with, so he thought it best to be careful. 'Yes I will get up,' he said, and jumped out of bed into his clothes as quickly as possible. 'Ah!' said the peasant, 'now I see what a wise man our sexton was; he has brought it to pass that you are like any other man. If I were not absolutely certain of it, I should never dream that you were the calf of our red cow. Will you come home with me?' The merchant said that he could not as he had to attend to his business. 'But you could take over my farm and I would retire. Nevertheless if you prefer to stay in business, I am willing. Do you need any money?' 'Well,' said the merchant, 'a man can always find use for money in his business.' 'I thought so,' said the farmer, 'and besides you had nothing to start with, so I have brought you some money.' And with that he poured out on the table the bright dollars that covered it entirely. When the merchant saw what kind of a man his new found acquaintance was, he chatted with him in a very friendly manner and begged him to remain with him for a few days. 'Yes indeed,' said the farmer, 'but you must be sure to call me father from now on.' 'But I have neither father nor mother living,' answered Peter Ox. 'That I know perfectly well,' the peasant replied, 'for I sold your real father in Copenhagen last Michaelmas, and your mother died while calving. But my wife and I have adopted you as our child and you will be our heir, so you must call me father.' The merchant gladly agreed to that and kept the bag of money; and before leaving town the farmer made his will and bequeathed all his possessions to Peter after his death. Then the man went home and told his wife the whole story, and she was delighted to learn that the merchant Peter Ox was really their own calf. 'Now you must go straight over to the sexton and tell him what has happened;' she said, 'and be sure to refund to him the hundred dollars that he paid out of his own pocket for Peter, for he has earned all that we have paid him, because of the joy that he has caused us in giving us such a son and heir.' Her husband was of the same opinion and went to call on the sexton, whom he thanked many times for his kindness and to whom he also gave two hundred dollars. Then the farmer sold his farm, and he and his wife moved into the town where the merchant was, and lived with him happily until their death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1675,Pope Ox,Germany,"Another printed version: Paul Zaunert, 'Papst Ochse,' Deutsche Märchen seit Grimm, vol. 1 (Jena: Eugen Diederichs Verlag, 1922), pp. 57-59.","Karl Bartsch, 'Papst Ochse,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg [Mecklenburg], vol. 1 (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), pp. 494-95.","A peasant hat an ox, a very handsome and intelligent animal. He and his wife liked the animal so much and held him in such high esteem that they decided have him pursue an advanced education. The peasant went to a merchant in the city and asked him for advice. The merchant thought to himself how he might take advantage of the peasant's stupidity, and encouraged him to pursue his plan. He then told him that he had a friend, a lawyer, who could give lessons to the ox. The merchant immediately went to the lawyer, and the two of them conspired to charge the peasant two hundred thalers, which they would share. They would slaughter the ox, and share its meat as well. The peasant and his wife were delighted that they had found a teacher for their ox so quickly, and they resolved to take him to the lawyer as soon as possible. The next day the peasant led the ox to the lawyer, who fed him some oats from a pewter dish, which pleased the peasant greatly. 'So, my dear Össing,' he said, 'you're going to do a lot better than pulling a plow.' With that he paid the two hundred thalers and made the lawyer promise to not mistreat the ox. The peasant had barely left when the lawyer informed the merchant what had happened. They divided the money, slaughtered ox, and laughed heartily about the stupid peasant. Some time later the peasant went to the lawyer and asked if would not be able to see his ox. 'No, that is not possible,' said the lawyer. 'A visit would disturb him.' But he assured the peasant that the ox was making good progress. The peasant returned a second and a third time, but he always received the same excuse. Finally, thinking that the peasant might become suspicious, the lawyer told him that his ox had become the pope in Rome. Amazed, the peasant asked how far it was to Rome. 'It would take you an entire year to get there,' was the answer. 'Even if it were further away than that, I want to go,' replied the peasant. He returned home and told his wife that he was going to Rome to bring back their ox. The next day he wrapped a piece of rope around his body and set forth for Rome. He arrived there a long time later and immediately asked where the pope lived. Someone pointed out a beautiful palace to him. Seeing this from afar, he took great pleasure in his ox's good fortune. He went directly to the palace and tried to go inside, but a guard blocked his way. The peasant said, 'Don't you know who I am? I'm here to take the pope with me. His mother wants to see him.' Because he looked so wild (he hadn't washed himself nor combed his hair during the entire long journey), and because he had spoken of taking someone away, the guard thought that the peasant was the devil, and he let him enter. The peasant went immediately to the pope's room, where he saw him at work writing. 'Hello, my dear Össing,' he called out. 'It's good to see you again.' With that he approached the pope and began petting him. He then unwrapped the rope from his body, put it around the pope's neck, and said, 'Come along now, my dear Össing, your mother wants to see you.' He pulled him across the room. The pope was speechless with fear, for he too believed that the devil was taking him away. In the meantime the guard had sounded the alarm, and a crowd gathered, and they were terrified when they saw the peasant with the pope. Only a few were brave enough to ask the devil to please release their pope. 'No, he has to come with me,' was the answer. 'His mother wants to see him.' They offered the peasant a great sum of money, then even more, and finally he released the pope. Then he asked just what the pope's duties were, and they told him that the pope ruled over all the kings, princes, and preachers. It pleased the old peasant that his ox had achieved such a high position. He made the people promise that they would do no harm to his ox, and then made his way homeward. Once at home, he showed his wife the money that he had been given and told her of the high honors their ox had won, adding that the people in Rome liked him so much that they would never allow him to leave. The old woman was just as happy as her husband, and the two of them boasted for a long time about their clever ox.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1675,"The Priest, the Washerman, and the Ass",India,Jaunpur is an important Islamic center in northern India.,"Source, J. F. A. McNair and Thomas Lambert Barlow, Oral Tradition from the Indus, revised and corrected (Brighton: R. Gosden, 1908), pp. 104-109.","There lived, many years ago, in the city of Azimgurh, in the northwest of India, a Moslem priest, or 'mullah,' who, as is usual with that class, added to his income by teaching the Mohammedan youths of the place. By chance an old washerman, or 'dhobi,' and his wife, while traveling homewards, came to the city and put up under a tree adjoining the mosque where the priest lived, and tied their ass to the tree. The old couple were rich, but were unfortunately childless. Some time during the day of their arrival, they caught a glimpse of a man who was gesticulating before the priest in a tone of violent complaint, and they could not help hearing all that he said, 'You are the priest,' he called out, 'and I have paid you all the fees you asked, but you have taught my son nothing at all, and every day he is either idling or playing about in the dusty roads with other worthless urchins.' Upon this the priest became greatly enraged, and retorted, 'Not taught him anything! It is false. He has been educated like the rest.' Yah Yah ka kulma partraya Gudhê sê admi bunaya. Upon this the man left the priest and went away down the road. The ignorant old washerman and his equally old and ignorant wife, having been silent listeners of all this conversation, put their heads together and began to talk of what they had heard. The washerman said to his wife, 'Did you not hear the priest say that he had changed an ass into a man, and you know priests can do wonderful things! I am just thinking that if he could work a change in our ass and make out of him a son for us, what a blessing it would be! For we have only this one thing short of being completely happy.' The old wife eagerly caught at the idea, and replied, 'Yes! Allah has given us much wealth, but what good will it be to us when we die. Strangers will get it. But if we had a son, he would inherit it, and our cup of joy on earth would be full to the brim. Let us go to the priest and make a bargain with him, that the curse of having no son may no longer rest upon us.' Whereupon they both sought an audience of the priest, and approaching him, said, 'Oh, sir! We are both very old, as you see, but we have plenty of money. But, sir, saddest of all things to tell you is that we are childless. Now, sir, we overheard you say that you had transformed an ass into a man. We have an ass, but we have not a son. Would you be so good as to change him for us, and we will give you any sum that you like to name.' The priest was struck all of a heap with surprise and astonishment at this preposterous request. He said nothing for some minutes, but simply stared at the aged old couple while he collected his thoughts. 'These people must clearly have heard me speaking angrily to the father of the worthless scholar, and have taken my words altogether in a literal sense. But here is evidently a run of luck for me which must not be thrown away.' Thus he soliloquized, and the old couplet fixed itself in his thoughts: Gân kê pooreh-get muth ki heenay Khuda tujhê deta-mai leta keunnahin. These are rich in purse but weak in intellect; Allah gives you the chance, why should you not take it? The old people were only too pleased to close with the priest, so they paid him the money, tied the ass to the tree, wished him a hearty farewell, and went on their journey homewards. When a year had elapsed the old washerman and his wife, with their hearts bounding with delight at the prospect of welcoming a son and heir, started on their travels again to meet the priest, and in due time arrived at the mosque. 'We have come, sir,' they said, 'according to promise, to claim our son.' The priest replied, 'You are indeed a couple of old fools. If you had been true to your time and had come a week ago, you would have seen him. But now, owing to his great learning, he as been appointed to the 'qazi' (doctor of Mohammedan law) at Jaunpur.' The priest had hit upon this ruse, and had determined to play off a joke on this qazi, of whom he was extremely jealous. 'But,' replied the old couple, getting alarmed, 'how is it possible that he will recognize us unless you accompany us?' 'Don't distress yourselves. I cannot go, but if you will take this rope with which you always tethered your ass, and the 'tobrâ' or nosebag in which the ass had his grain, and go to Jaunpur, all your difficulties will vanish. Time your arrival in the city on a Friday at the hour of prayer in the mosque. You will see a large concourse of people being addressed by your son, who was, you know, your ass. Put yourselves in a position where the qazi can plainly see you, then keep shaking the rope and the nosebag, and he will soon discover who you are, and come and claim you as his father and mother.' So off they went to the city of Jaunpur, reached it on a Friday, and went straight to the mosque, placed themselves in a conspicuous part of the outer building within sight of the qazi, and began, with a vengeance, to whisk before him the nosebag and the rope. In a very short time the qazi noticed this strange proceeding, and sent one of the congregation to find out the cause, but they told him to tell the qazi that they had a profound secret which could only be told to the qazi himself and to no other mortal. The qazi, impelled by curiosity, asked permission of his audience for a few moments of leave, and then taking the old couple aside, he begged of them to tell him the reason of their strange behavior. With bated breath, and with the deepest earnestness did the old washerman and his wife pour into the qazi's ears the whole of the strange story of his having once been their ass; how for years they had overloaded him with kindness, and never spared the cudgel when he had been obstinate; how they deeply regretted their conduct towards one now so exalted as they saw their son to be; how, but for the wonderful power of the Priest of Azimgurh such a blessing would never have come to them; and how their cup of happiness was now complete. The qazi at once took in the situation, and saw the plot that his arch enemy had so cleverly planned against him. And being a wise man, he thought to himself, 'If I repudiate this absurd story, in the belief of which these ignorant people have bound up their lives, it will be sure to be published abroad, to my own annoyance, and from being respected I shall be mocked and turned into ridicule, and in fact be the laughingstock of the place. I am resolved what to do. I will quietly acquiesce in what they say, and so get rid of them.' Turning to the old couple he said, 'Yes, it is all too true, and from henceforth your interests are my interests. Your good name is identical with mine, and I will carry it on. But let me bind you by all that you hold sacred that you never breathe a word of this marvelous change that has taken place in my being and existence. If you never reveal this secret, I will be a dutiful son to you all my life.' This the old washerman and his wife agreed to abide by in every iota, only stipulating that when they died, which in the course of nature was not far off, he would be present to see them interred according to Mohammedan rites. This the qazi on his part faithfully promised to do, and the old couple took their departure to their own home with every expression of joy and delight, and left all their money to him when they died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,A Visitor from Paradise,Europe,NA,NA,"There was once a woman, good but simple, who had been twice married. One day when her husband was in the field -- of course that was her second husband, you know -- a weary tramp came trudging by her door and asked for a drink of water. When she gave it to him, being rather a gossip, she asked where he came from. 'From Paris,' said the man. The woman was a little bit deaf, and thought the man said from paradise. 'From paradise! Did you meet there my poor dear husband, Lord rest his soul?' 'What was his name?' asked the man. 'Why, John Goody, of course,' said the woman. 'Did you know him in paradise?' 'What, John Goody!' said the man. 'Him and me was as thick as thieves.' 'Does he want for anything?' said the woman. 'I suppose up in paradise you get all you want.' 'All we want! Why, look at me,' said the man pointing to his rags and tatters. 'They treat some of us right shabby up there.' 'Dear me, that's bad. Are you likely to go back?' 'Go back to paradise, marm? I should say. We have to be in every night at ten.' 'Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind taking back some things for my poor old John,' said the woman. 'Of course, marm. Delighted to help my old chum John.' So the woman went indoors and got a big pile of clothes and a long pipe and three bottles of beer, and a beer jug, and gave them to the man. 'But,' he said, 'please marm, I can't carry all these by my own self. Ain't you got a horse or a donkey that I can take along with me to carry them? I'll bring him back tomorrow.' Then the woman said, 'There's our old Dobbin in the stable. I can't lend you mare Juniper 'cause my husband's plowing with her just now.' 'Ah, well, Dobbin'll do as it's only until tomorrow.' So the woman got out Dobbin and saddled him, and the man took the clothes and the beer and the pipe and rode off with them. Shortly afterwards her husband came home and said, 'What's become of Dobbin? He's not in the stable.' So his wife told him all that had happened. And he said, 'I don't like that. How do we know that he is going to paradise? And how do we know that he'll bring Dobbin back tomorrow? I'll saddle Juniper and get the things back. Which way did he go?' So he saddled Juniper and rode after the man, who saw him coming afar off and guessed what had happened. So he got off from Dobbin and drove him into a clump of trees near the roadside, and then went and laid down on his back and looked up to the sky. When the farmer came up to him he got down from Juniper and said, 'What are you doing there?' 'Oh, such a funny thing,' said the man. 'A fellow came along here on a horse with some clothes and things, and when he got to the top of the hill here he simply gave a shout and the horse went right up into the sky; and I was watching him when you came up.' 'Oh, it's all right then,' said the farmer. 'He's gone to paradise, sure enough,' and went back to his wife. Next day they waited, and they waited for the man to bring back Dobbin; but he didn't come that day nor the next day, nor the next. So the farmer said to his wife, 'My dear, we've been done. But I'll find that man if I have to trudge through the whole kingdom. And you must come with me, as you know him.' 'But what shall we do with the house?' said the wife. 'You know there have been robbers around here, and while we are away they'll come and take my best china.' 'Oh, that's all right,' said the farmer. 'He who minds the door minds the house. So we'll take the door with us and then they can't get in.' So he took the door off its hinges, and put it on his back and they went along to find the man from paradise. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along until night came, and they didn't know what to do for shelter. So the man said, 'That's a comfortable tree there; let us roost in the branches like the birds.' So they took the door up with them and laid down to sleep on it as comfortable, as comfortable can be. Now it happened that a band of robbers had just broken into a castle nearby and taken out a great lot of plunder; and they came under the very tree to divide it. And when they began to settle how much each should have they began to quarrel and woke up the farmer and his wife. They were so frightened when they heard the robbers underneath them that they tried to get up farther into the tree, and in doing so let the door fall down right on the robbers' heads. 'The heavens are falling,' cried the robbers, who were so frightened that they all rushed away. And the farmer and his wife came down from the tree and collected all the booty and went home and lived happy ever afterwards. It was and it was not.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,All Women Are Alike,Norway,NA,NA,"Once on a time there was a man, and he had a wife. Now this couple wanted to sow their fields, but they had neither seed-corn nor money to buy it with. But they had a cow, and the man was to drive it into town and sell it to get money to buy corn for seed. But when it came to the pinch, the wife dared not let her husband start, for fear he should spend the money in drink, so she set off herself with the cow, and took besides a hen with her. Close by the town she met a butcher, who asked, 'Will you sell that cow, mother?' 'Yes, that I will,' she answered. 'Well, what do you want for her?' 'Oh! I must have five shillings for the cow, but you shall have the hen for ten pound.' 'Very good!' said the man; 'I don't want the hen, and you'll soon get it off your hands in the town; but I'll give you five shillings for the cow.' Well, she sold her cow for five shillings, but there was no one in the town who would give ten pound for a lean tough old hen, so she went back to the butcher, and said, 'Do all I can, I can't get rid of this hen, master! You must take it too, as you took the cow.' 'Well,' said the butcher, 'come along and we'll see about it.' Then he treated her both with meat and drink, and gave her so much brandy that she lost her head, and didn't know what she was about, and fell fast asleep. But while she slept, the butcher took and dipped her into a tar barrel, and then laid her down on a heap of feathers; and when she woke up she was feathered all over, and began to wonder what had befallen her. 'Is it me, or is it not me? No, it can never be me. It must be some great strange bird. But what shall I do to find out whether it is me or not? Oh! I know how I shall be able to tell whether it is me. If the calves come and lick me, and our dog Tray doesn't bark at me when I get home, then it must be me and no one else.' Now, Tray, her dog, had scarce set his eyes on the strange monster which came through the gate, than he set up such a barking, one would have thought all the rogues and robbers in the world were in the yard. 'Ah! deary me!' said she, 'I thought so. It can't be me surely.' So she went to the straw-yard, and the calves wouldn't lick her, when they snuffed in the strong smell of tar. 'No, no!' she said. 'It can't be me. It must be some strange outlandish bird.' So she crept up on the roof of the safe [storehouse] and began to flap her arms, as if they had been wings, and was just going to fly off. When her husband saw all this, out he came with his rifle, and began to take aim at her. 'Oh!' cried his wife, 'don't shoot, don't shoot! It is only me.' 'If it's you,' said her husband, 'don't stand up there like a goat on a house-top, but come down and let me hear what you have to say for yourself.' So she crawled down again, but she hadn't a shilling to show, for the crown she had got from the butcher she had thrown away in her drunkenness. So he toddled off, and when he had walked a little way he saw a goody, who was running in and out of a newly built wooden cottage with an empty sieve, and every time she ran in she threw her apron over the sieve, just as if she had something in it, and when she got in she turned it upside down on the floor. 'Why, goody!' he asked, 'what are you doing?' 'Oh,' she answered, 'I'm only carrying in a little sun; but I don't know how it is, when I'm outside I have the sun in my sieve, but when I get inside, somehow or other I've thrown it away. But in my old cottage I had plenty of sun, though I never carried in the least bit. I only wish I knew some one who would bring the sun inside. I'd give him three hundred dollars and welcome.' 'Have you got an ax?' asked the man. 'If you have, I'll soon bring the sun inside.' So he got an ax and cut windows in the cottage, for the carpenters had forgotten them. Then the sun shone in, and he got his three hundred dollars. 'That was one of them,' said the man to himself, as he went on his way. After a while he passed by a house, out of which came an awful screaming and bellowing; so he turned in and saw a goody, who was hard at work banging her husband across the head with a beetle [wooden pestle], and over his head she had drawn a shirt without any slit for the neck. 'Why, goody!' he asked, 'will you beat your husband to death?' 'No,' she said, 'I only must have a hole in this shirt for his neck to come through.' All the while the husband kept on screaming and calling out, 'Heaven help and comfort all who try on new shirts! If anyone would teach my goody another way of making a slit for the neck in my new shirts I'd give him three hundred dollars down, and welcome.' 'I'll do it in the twinkling of an eye,' said the man, 'if you'll only give me a pair of scissors.' So he got a pair of scissors, and snipped a hole in the neck, and went off with his three hundred dollars. 'That was another of them,' he said to himself, as he walked along. Last of all, he came to a farm, where he made up his mind to rest a bit. So when he went in, the mistress asked him, 'Whence do you come, master?' 'Oh!' said he, 'I come from Paradise Place,' for that was the name of his farm. 'From Paradise Place! ' she cried, 'you don't say so. Why, then, you must know my second husband Peter, who is dead and gone, God rest his soul!' For you must know this goody had been married three times, and as her first and last husbands had been bad, she had made up her mind that the second only was gone to heaven. 'Oh! yes,' said the man; 'I know him very well.' 'Well,' asked the goody, 'how do things go with him, poor dear soul?' 'Only middling,' was the answer; 'he goes about begging from house to house, and has neither food nor a rag to his back. As for money, he hasn't a sixpence to bless himself with.' 'Mercy on me!' cried out the goody; 'he never ought to go about such a figure when he left so much behind him. Why, there's a whole cupboard full of old clothes upstairs which belonged to him, besides a great chest full of money yonder. Now, if you will take them with you, you shall have a horse and cart to carry them. As for the horse, he can keep it, and sit on the cart, and drive about from house to house, and then he needn't trudge on foot.' So the man got a whole cart-load of clothes, and a chest full of shining dollars, and as much meat and drink as he would; and when he had got all he wanted, he jumped into the cart and drove off. 'That was the third,' he said to himself, as he went along. Now this goody's third husband was a little way off in a field plowing, and when he saw a strange man driving off from the farm with his horse and cart, he went home and asked his wife who that was that had just started with the black horse. 'Oh, do you mean him?' said the goody; 'why, that was a man from paradise, who said that Peter, my dear second husband, who is dead and gone, is in a sad plight, and that he goes from house to house begging, and has neither clothes nor money; so I just sent him all those old clothes he left behind him, and the old money box with the dollars in it.' The man saw how the land lay in a trice, so he saddled his horse and rode off from the farm at full gallop. It wasn't long before he was close behind the man who sat and drove the cart; but when the latter saw this he drove the cart into a thicket by the side of the road, pulled out a handful of hair from the horse's tail, jumped up on a little rise in the wood, where he tied the hair fast to a birch, and then lay down under it, and began to peer and stare up at the sky. 'Well, well, if I ever! ' he said, as Peter the third came riding up. 'No! I never saw the like of this in all my born days!' Then Peter stood and looked at him for some time, wondering what had come over him; but at last he asked, 'What do you lie there staring at?' 'No,' kept on the man, 'I never did see anything like it! Here is a man going straight up to heaven on a black horse, and here you see his horse's tail still hanging in this birch; and yonder up in the sky you see the black horse.' Peter looked first at the man, and then at the sky, and said, 'I see nothing but the horse hair in the birch; that's all I see.' 'Of course you can't where you stand,' said the man; 'but just come and lie down here, and stare straight up, and mind you don't take your eyes off the sky; and then you shall see what you shall see.' But while Peter the third lay and stared up at the sky till his eyes filled with tears, the man from Paradise Place took his horse and jumped on its back, and rode off both with it and the cart and horse. When the hoofs thundered along the road, Peter the third jumped up, but he was so taken aback when he found the man had gone off with his horse, that he hadn't the sense to run after him till it was too late. He was rather down in the mouth when he got home to his goody; but when she asked him what he had done with the horse, he said, 'I gave it to the man too for Peter the second, for I thought it wasn't right he should sit in a cart and scramble about from house to house; so now he can sell the cart and buy himself a coach to drive about in.' 'Thank you heartily!' said his wife. 'I never thought you could be so kind.' Well, when the man reached home, who had got the six hundred dollars and the cart-load of clothes and money, he saw that all his fields were ploughed and sown, and the first thing he asked his wife was, where she had got the seed-corn from. 'Oh,' she said, 'I have always heard that what a man sows he shall reap, so I sowed the salt which our friends the north country men laid up here with us, and if we only have rain I fancy it will come up nicely.' 'You are crazy,' said her husband, 'and crazy you will be so long as you live. But that is all one now, for the others are not a bit better than you.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,Elova Gohin Melova Ava,Sri Lanka,NA,NA,"The following story will show how foolish a wife of one of these gamaralas was on one occasion. I heard the story related by an old woman, one of a class frequenting the houses of rich natives for gossip and a free meal. In order to render the story intelligible, it is necessary that I should explain the phrase which heads this paper. It is a common phrase among the Sinhalese, and is well understood by them. It literally means that one has gone to that world and returned to this world. 'Elova,' 'that world,' means the next world, or the place whither the dead go; and 'melova,' 'this world,' signi?es the earth, where mankind dwell. The phrase is used in reference to one who, having been at the point of death, recovered unexpectedly. It appears, however, that there are some extremely ignorant people, who understand the phrase literally, and think that the person in reference to whom it is used has actually gone to a world which is beyond the grave, and has come back to this world. After this explanation, I shall proceed to narrate the story: There was once a gamarala in whose absence a beggar, who was very lean, weak, and worn-out by sickness, came to his house. The gamarala's wife wondered how he could be so dis?gured, and said to him, 'Dear me! What has happened to you?' The man replied, 'Mama noboda elova gohin melova ava vada.' -- 'Having lately gone to the other world I have come to this world,' or in plain language, 'I almost died and recovered.' The woman understood the words literally, and thought within herself that the man went lately to the land of the departed souls, and then returned to this world. She was wonderstruck, and she listened to him with very great attention, with her mouth wide open and her eyes intently ?xed upon him. She then very tenderly addressed him and said to him, 'As you have come from the other world, you must have seen our daughter Kaluhami, who died and went to elova a few days ago. Pray tell me how she is.' The man at once understood the woman's mistake and shrewdly answered, 'Madam! She is my wife, and lives with me at present, and she has sent me to you for her geranam malla.' This is a bag in which young women in those times kept all that they considered valuable of their private property. The woman, believing the beggar to be her son-in-law, asked him very kindly to sit down and wait a few minutes, as the gamarala was expected to return by that time; but the man said that he could not prolong his stay as his wife, Kaluhami, would be impatiently waiting for his return. So saying, he requested her to give him the geranam malla. The woman placed before her supposed son-in-law a sumptuous breakfast, which he ?nished hastily, saying that he was anxious to get away without any loss of time. The woman then delivered to him the geranam malla, together with all the jewelry and such other articles that had been intended as presents to Kaluhami on her wedding day. The beggar, leaving the house with the valuables, was returning to his village as fast as he could, knowing that on the gamarala's return the woman would tell him all that had transpired at his house in his absence, and that he would then be irritated and would follow him for the purpose of arresting him and getting back the property. It was not long before his worst fears were realized. He saw the gamarala riding furiously after him calling out, 'Stop you rogue! Stop scoundrel!' The cunning beggar ran up at once to a large tree that stood by the road-side and climbed it. The gamarala rode up to the spot and dismounting from the horse tied it to the tree and climbed it with great dif?culty, whereupon the beggar hastily descended to the ground by means of a branch extending towards the opposite direction, and untying the horse and mounting on it galloped away as fast as he could. The gamarala then came down from the tree, and, seeing the man at such a distance that it was quite beyond his power to overtake him, called out to him and said, 'My son-in-law, tell our daughter that the geranam malla and jewels are from her mother, and that the horse is from me.' Revised February 22, 2021.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,Jack Hannaford,England (Devonshire),NA,NA,"There was an old soldier who had been long in the wars -- so long, that he was quite out-at-elbows, and he did not know where to go to find a living. So he walked up moors, down glens, till at last he came to a farm, from which the good man had gone away to market. The wife of the farmer was a very foolish woman. The farmer was foolish enough, too, and it is hard to say which of the two was the most foolish. When you've heard my tale you may decide. Now before the farmer goes to market says he to his wife, 'Here is ten pounds all in gold. Take care of it till I come home.' If the man had not been a fool he would never have given the money to his wife to keep. Well, off he went in his cart to market, and the wife said to herself, 'I will keep the ten pounds quite safe from thieves.' So she tied it up in a rag, and she put the rag up the parlor chimney. 'There,' said she. 'No thieves will ever find it now; that is quite sure.' Jack Hannaford, the old soldier, came and rapped at the door. 'Who is there?' asked the wife. 'Jack Hannaford.' 'Where do you come from?' 'Paradise.' 'Lord a' mercy! And maybe you've seen my old man there,' alluding to her former husband. 'Yes, I have.' 'And how was he a-doing?' asked the goody [woman]. 'But middling. He cobbles old shoes, and he has nothing but cabbage for victuals.' 'Deary me!' exclaimed the woman. 'Didn't he send a message to me?' 'Yes, he did,' replied Jack Hannaford. 'He said that he was out of leather, and his pockets were empty, so you were to send him a few shillings to buy a fresh stock of leather.' 'He shall have them, bless his poor soul!' And away went the wife to the parlor chimney, and she pulled the rag with the ten pounds in it from the chimney, and she gave the whole sum to the soldier, telling him that her old man was to use as much as he wanted, and to send back the rest. It was not long that Jack waited after receiving the money. He went off as fast as he could walk. Presently the farmer came home and asked for his money. The wife told him that she had sent it by a soldier to her former husband in paradise, to buy him leather for cobbling the shoes of the saints and angels of heaven. The farmer was very angry, and he swore that he had never met with such a fool as his wife. But the wife said that her husband was a greater fool for letting her have the money. There was no time to waste words, so the farmer mounted his horse and rode off after Jack Hannaford. The old soldier heard the horse's hoofs clattering on the road behind him, so he knew it must be the farmer pursuing him. He lay down on the ground, and shading his eyes with one hand, looked up into the sky, and pointed heavenwards with the other hand. 'What are you about there?' asked the farmer pulling up. 'Lord save you!' exclaimed Jack. 'I've seen a rare sight! A man going straight up into the sky, as if he were walking on a road.' 'Can you see him still?' 'Yes, I can.' 'Where?' 'Get off your horse and lie down.' 'If you will hold the horse.' Jack did so readily. 'I cannot see him,' said the farmer. 'Shade your eyes with your hand, and you'll soon see a man flying away from you.' Sure enough he did so, for Jack leaped on the horse, and rode away with it. The farmer walked home without his horse. 'You are a bigger fool than I am,' said the wife, 'for I did only one foolish thing, and you have done two.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,My Son Ali,Armenian-American,NA,NA,"Twice each day, early in the morning and at evening, Fatima took a large copper vessel, and went to the river to bring fresh drinking-water to the house. Early one beautiful morning she went as usual to bring her kettle of fresh water. She sat down under a great mulberry-tree which overhung the river. It was full of ripe fruit which hung far above her head. As she sat there enjoying the beautiful early morning and looking up into the tree laden with fine fruit which she, being a girl, could not reach, since she could not climb the tree, she fell a-thinking. She thought how some day perhaps she would be married and perhaps would have a little son and his name would be Ali, and after a time he would grow to be eight years old, and that then he could go to the river to bring fresh water in the morning. Then she thought how, when Ali had come to the mulberry-tree, he would climb up into the tree to pluck the delicious berries, and how at last the poor little boy would fall from the tree into the river and be drowned. Then Fatima sprang up crying, 'Oh! Ali! Ali! My son! My son Ali!' And she ran home crying aloud, 'My son Ali, my son Ali is dead!' As she ran along the street the people came out calling to her and asking what was the matter. She did not stop, but ran on crying, 'Ali! Ali! My son Ali! My son Ali is dead!' until she reached her own home. Her mother, seeing the water vessel empty, and hearing her daughter crying aloud, said, 'What is the matter? Why are you weeping? Why have you brought no fresh water this morning?' Then the girl told her mother how she had sat under the mulberry- tree, and had thought that perhaps some day she would be married and would have a little son and his name would be Ali, and when he had come to be eight years old he would go to draw the water for the family, and he would see the ripe mulberries hanging from the tree and would climb the tree to gather them, and he would fall into the river and be drowned. And again she burst out, 'Oh! Ali! My son Ali! My son Ali is dead!' Then the mother also burst out crying, and the two sat there all day lamenting and weeping over the poor, drowned Ali. Late in the afternoon there came to the door begging bread a Chingana woman (gypsy). When she heard the great outcry and saw the two women weeping she asked, 'What is the matter?' The mother told her the story, how her daughter had gone to draw water from the river, had sat down under the mulberry-tree, and all that she had imagined, how she came home crying, and how ever since they had been grieving over the lost Ali. The gypsy said, 'I can tell you about your son, for you know my people can not only read the past and the future, but can see into the other world and tell what is going on there.' 'Oh,' cried Fatima, springing up. 'Can you give me some word of my son? Where is he? How is he? Is he happy? Is he well? How old is he?' And she stopped crying, and danced, laughing, about the room in expectation of hearing about her dear lost Ali. Then the cunning old Chingana said, 'I see your son. He is now about twelve years old. He is not well. He is very poor and hungry. If anyone should give him one piece of bread, he would be so glad that he would jump ten times for joy. He is lying down, faint and weak, wanting food; but if you will give me food I will carry it to him, and soon he will be well and strong.' Then the mother and daughter made themselves very busy preparing food to send by the Chingana woman to little Ali. Fatima hurried out to the shop to buy nuts and fruit. The mother brought some saddlebags, which they packed with bread and all kinds of delicacies. They also put in clothes that they thought a twelve-year-old boy could wear. By the time that all was ready the saddle-bags were so heavy that the Chingana said she could not carry them. She was very cunning, and as she had entered the house she had seen a fine horse standing in its stall at the side of the house. This horse belonged to Fatima's brother. The old woman said, 'Have you not a horse that you could lend me to ride upon to carry the saddlebags to your Ali, for he is suffering, and I should hasten to bear your presents to him.' 'Yes, yes,' cried Fatima and her mother. 'We have a horse,' and they hurried to lead forth the horse to the front of the house. The saddlebags were placed on the horse, and the old woman mounted and rode away. Not long after she left, Fatima's brother came home from his work. As he approached the house he heard great crying, for the women had again begun to weep after the departure of the Chingana. The brother heard his sister crying, 'Ali! Ali! My son Ali is dead!' He came in, saying, 'What is the matter? Where is my horse? Why are you crying like this?' Then Fatima and her mother together told him the sad story, how his sister had gone to the river to draw water, how she had sat under the tree and all she had imagined, and how she had come home crying, and how they were grieving over the poor drowned Ali. But he said, 'Where is my horse? Tell me, where is my horse?' Then they told him of the visit of the Chingana, and how they had sent food to Ali, whom she had seen suffering. The brother said, 'Tell me quick! Which way did she go?' and he scolded his sister for crying and being so foolish. They pointed out the direction taken by the gypsy woman, and the brother ran on at full speed. In about half an hour he came to a mill. He stopped here, thinking that the miller might give him information about the Chingana woman, who, he felt sure, meant to steal his horse. Now when the Chingana had reached the mill, fearing she might be overtaken, she had stopped and asked the miller to change clothes with her, and to conceal the horse in his stable. The miller was not a very wise man, and consented to do as the Chingana asked; so when Fatima's brother came to him, the miller was wearing the dress of the old woman as he worked at grinding the corn. The brother quickly spied the horse in a stall underneath the house, and as he talked with the miller, questioning him about the Chingana woman, he said, 'Why, you are wearing the dress my sister described. You must have on the clothes of the gypsy.' Just then, lifting his eyes, he saw in a tall tree above him a man looking down. This was the Chingana woman, for after putting on the clothes of the miller she had climbed the tree, hoping to conceal herself in the branches. The brother then told the miller he must confess the whole truth, for he felt sure that he knew all about the thief. After some urging, the miller told him how the Chingana woman had come to him, and asked him to change clothes and to conceal the horse. This he had done, meaning no harm. He then led out the horse, which the brother took possession of, but this did not satisfy him. He said the Chingana woman must go to prison. He bade the woman come down from the tree, but she refused to do this until officers came and commanded her to descend. She was then led away to prison. The brother mounted his horse and returned home. When he reached home the women were still crying. He said to Fatima, 'Are you not ashamed to sit here crying and talking of your lost son Ali? You have no son; you are a young girl. You should be ashamed to be so foolish, and to cry aloud about your son Ali.' His words had no effect upon Fatima, who continued to weep and cry aloud. At last the brother drove her out of the house, saying, 'You shall not longer live in my house, you foolish girl, who sit crying about your son Ali.' Fatima, weeping, went away to one of the neighbors, with whom she stayed two days. Then she came back, begging her brother's forgiveness, asking to be allowed to come back to her home, and promising that she would be quiet and gentle as before. She said, 'I am sorry that I was so foolish. I did not know what I was about. I hope you will forgive me.' This he did, and they lived in peace forever after. I see a small basket coming down from heaven. In it there are twelve pomegranates, five for me, one for you, Josephine, one for you, Pailoun, one for you, Arousyak, one for you, Diran, one for you, Augustina, one for you, Naomi, and one for you, George.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,On an Old Woman,"Germany, Heinrich Bebel",NA,NA,"He answered 'To Paris,' but she understood 'Paradise.' She then told him about her husband, who had died a few days earlier, and asked the traveler if he would be willing to take some clothes, money, and other things to him. The traveler took everything that the old woman gave him and went on his way. Now supplied with many of life's necessities, he became a successful man.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,Shaikh Chilli and the Fakir,India India,NA,NA,"When he recovered he went out and meeting a fakir he said: 'Will you kindly eat at my house today?' The fakir agreed and when the Shaikh asked him what he would eat, he said he would like an ounce of mung pulse. Shaikh Chilli went back to his wife and said: 'A fakir will eat here today. Cook an ounce of mung pulse and you can give it to him. I perhaps shall not be home as I am going to the mosque to pray.' She cooked the food and gave it to the fakir and then she asked: 'Do you ever go to Khuda? If so perhaps you can tell me how my parents are getting on.' 'I go every day to Khuda,' he replied, 'and see your parents. They are miserable and get only bones to chow; but the parents of your husband get plenty of pulao.' So she gave him five hundred rupees and said: 'Please take this money to my parents and let them get better food in future.' When the Shaikh came back his wife said: 'It is very hard that my parents should have to chew bones while yours get plenty of pulao.' When the Shaikh heard this he got on his horse and pursued the fakir. When the fakir saw him he climbed up a tree. The Shaikh climbed after him: and shouted: 'Where is my money, you rascal?' The fakir went out along the branch and the Shaikh followed him. When he came over the place where the horse was tied the fakir jumped on it and rode away. When he came back his wife said: 'Where is the horse?' 'When I heard,' said he 'that my parents had such high rank in heaven, I thought it only proper that they should have a horse to ride there. So I sent them mine.' (Told by Muhammad Halim and recorded by M. Ram Sahay of Lucknow.) When he recovered he went out and meeting a fakir he said: 'Will you kindly eat at my house today?' The fakir agreed and when the Shaikh asked him what he would eat, he said he would like an ounce of mung pulse. Shaikh Chilli went back to his wife and said: 'A fakir will eat here today. Cook an ounce of mung pulse and you can give it to him. I perhaps shall not be home as I am going to the mosque to pray.' She cooked the food and gave it to the fakir and then she asked: 'Do you ever go to Khuda? If so perhaps you can tell me how my parents are getting on.' 'I go every day to Khuda,' he replied, 'and see your parents. They are miserable and get only bones to chow; but the parents of your husband get plenty of pulao.' So she gave him five hundred rupees and said: 'Please take this money to my parents and let them get better food in future.' When the Shaikh came back his wife said: 'It is very hard that my parents should have to chew bones while yours get plenty of pulao.' When the Shaikh heard this he got on his horse and pursued the fakir. When the fakir saw him he climbed up a tree. The Shaikh climbed after him: and shouted: 'Where is my money, you rascal?' The fakir went out along the branch and the Shaikh followed him. When he came over the place where the horse was tied the fakir jumped on it and rode away. When he came back his wife said: 'Where is the horse?' 'When I heard,' said he 'that my parents had such high rank in heaven, I thought it only proper that they should have a horse to ride there. So I sent them mine.' (Told by Muhammad Halim and recorded by M. Ram Sahay of Lucknow.)",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,Stupid Gretel,Switzerland,NA,NA,"Stupid Gretel lived with her husband in a lonely little house just outside the village, and she did not deal with people very much. One day a hungry fellow came to her while her husband was in the field, and he asked her to give him something to eat, for he had gone hungry the entire day. He would be satisfied even if it were only a piece of meat, or half of one. Now her husband had slaughtered a pig only yesterday, so she went inside and brought back half of the pig. Yes, he could manage that, said the hungry man, and he loaded the burden onto his shoulders and went on his way. When Gretel's husband came home and learned what she had done, he ruffled his hair and said, 'Gretel, my Gretel, when will you ever learn? Why didn't you just cut him a slice?' 'Oh, dear husband,' said Gretel, 'you know that I cannot shed blood. How would I have been able to cut a slice out of that poor man?' The husband said, 'Gretel, my Gretel, you will never learn! I am going to town now, and if I can find a woman there who is more stupid than you, then I'll spare your life, otherwise it will cost you your neck.' So he went to town. The market had just begun, and as he, lost in his thoughts, approached an egg woman, he stumbled into her basket, breaking the eggs until the ground looked like it was plastered with pancakes made without lard. 'Hey!' the egg woman jumped up shouting, 'What kind of crazy man is that?' 'Now, now,' cried the man. 'Clear out your mouth and speak differently. Who can see a miserable egg peddler if he has just fallen from heaven?' 'Oh my dear God, you have come from heaven?' cried the woman. 'How could I have known that? Tell me, have you seen my blessed husband Christian? God willing, he will have been there one year this Easter.' 'I hope to say I have seen him,' answered the man. 'Only yesterday we ate together. He is the best companion I have in all of heaven, and when I return, he is the first person I will seek out. But he's not doing too well polishing the stars. He has to clean the stars every night, and having only one shirt for Sundays and workdays alike is no fun.' 'Oh my dear God,' cried the woman. 'Is he doing so poorly, my dear Christian? In that case may God bless you if you will take him the piece of cloth that I bought for him before he died. It is as good as new.' 'If it's not too heavy, I will give it a try,' said the man, and went with the woman to her house. She gave him the cloth, and she wouldn't stop until she had given him a basket full of eggs for her Christian as well. Then he set off toward home. As he approached home, Gretel became frightened, for she could only think that her last hour had struck. But her husband waved to her from afar and shouted, 'Gretel, my Gretel, you are not yet the most stupid woman!' Then he told her about his dealings with the egg woman. He was very pleased with the new cloth and the gift of the eggs. And Gretel too was much relieved that this time, at least, it had not cost her her neck.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Beggar from Paris,England,NA,NA,"Quoth the fellow, from Paris. From Paradise (quoth she) then thou knowest my old John there (meaning her former husband) I, quoth the fellow, that I doe. I pray thee (quoth she) how doth he doe? Faith (quoth the fellow) poore, he hath meat and drinke enough, but wants cloathes and mony. Alas, quoth she, I am sory for it, I pray thee stay a little; and, running up into her Chamber, fetcht downe her husbands new sute of cloathes, and five shillings in mony, and gave it to the fellow, saying, I pray thee remember me to my poore John, and give him this sute of clothes, and five shillings from me, and wrapt them up in a Fardle [a bundle], which the fellow took, and away he went. Presently her husband came home, and found her very pleasant and merry, singing up and downe the house, which she seldome used to doe, and he asked her the cause. Oh, husband, quoth she, I have heard from my old John to-day, he is in Paradise, and is very well, but wants clothes and mony, but I have sent him thy best sute, and five shillings in mony. Her husband seeing she was cozened, enquired of her which way the fellow went that had them. Yonder way, quoth she. He presently took his best horse, Hob, and rode after him for the clothes. The fellow seeing one ride so fast after him, threw the clothes into a ditch, and went softly forward. Her husband overtaking the fellow, said, Didst not see one go this way with a little fardle of clothes at his back? Yes, quoth the fellow, he is newly gone into yonder little Wood. Oh, hold my horse, quoth he, whilst I runne in and finde him out. I will, quoth the fellow, who presently, as soon as he was gone into the wood, took up his fardell, leapt on horseback, and away he went. The Man returning for his horse, his horse was gone; then going home to his wife, she asked him if he overtook the fellow. I, sweet heart, quoth he, and I have lent him my best horse to ride on, for it is a great long way to Paradise. Truly, husband, quoth she, and I shall love thee the better so long as I live, for making so much of my old John. Which caused much good laughter to all that heard it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Clever People,Germany,NA,NA,"One day a peasant took his good hazel stick out of the corner and said to his wife, 'Trina, I am going across country, and shall not return for three days. If during that time the cattle dealer should happen to call and want to buy our three cows, you may strike a bargain at once, but not unless you can get two hundred talers for them, nothing less, do you hear.' 'In God's name, just go in peace,' answered the woman, 'I will manage that.' 'You, indeed,' said the man. 'You once fell on your head when you were a little child, and that affects you even now. But let me tell you this, if you do anything foolish, I will make your back black and blue, and not with paint, I assure you, but with the stick which I have in my hand. And the coloring shall last a whole year. You may rely on that.' Having said that, the man went on his way. The next morning the cattle dealer came, and the woman had no need to say many words to him. When he had seen the cows and heard the price, he said, 'I am quite willing to give that. Honestly speaking, they are worth it. I will take the animals away with me at once.' He unfastened their chains and drove them out of the stall, but just as he was going out of the farmyard gate, the woman clutched him by the sleeve and said, 'You must give me the two hundred talers now, or I cannot let the cows go.' 'Right,' answered the man, 'but I have forgotten to buckle on my money belt. Have no fear, however, you shall have security until I pay. I will take two cows with me and leave one, so you will have good collateral.' The woman saw the wisdom of this, and let the man go away with the cows, and thought to herself, 'How pleased Hans will be when he finds how cleverly I have managed.' The peasant came home on the third day as he had said he would, and at once inquired if the cows were sold. 'Yes, indeed, dear Hans,' answered the woman, 'and as you said, for two hundred talers. They are scarcely worth so much, but the man took them without making any objection.' 'Where is the money?' asked the peasant. 'Oh, I have not got the money,' replied the woman. 'He had happened to forget his money belt, but he will soon bring it, and he left good security behind him.' 'What kind of security?' asked the man. 'One of the three cows, which he shall not have until he has paid for the other two. I have managed very cunningly, for I have kept the smallest, which eats the least.' The man was enraged and lifted up his stick, and was just going to give her the beating he had promised her, when suddenly he lowered the stick and said, 'You are the stupidest goose that ever waddled on God's earth, but I am sorry for you. I will go out into the highway and wait for three days to see if I find anyone who is still stupider than you. If I succeed in doing so, you shall go free, but if I do not find him, you shall receive your well-deserved reward without any discount.' He went out into the great highway, sat down on a stone, and waited for what would come along. Then he saw a farm wagon coming towards him, and a woman was standing upright in the middle of it, instead of sitting on the bundle of straw which was lying beside her, or walking near the oxen and leading them. The man thought to himself, 'That is certainly one of the kind I am in search of,' and jumped up and ran back and forth in front of the wagon like one who is not in his right mind. 'What do you want, my friend?' said the woman to him. 'I don't know you, where do you come from?' 'I have fallen down from heaven,' replied the man, 'and don't know how to get back again. Couldn't you drive me up?' 'No,' said the woman, 'I don't know the way. But if you come from heaven you can surely tell me how my husband is, who has been there these three years. You must have seen him.' 'Oh, yes, I have seen him, but not everyone can get on well. He herds sheep, and these creatures give him a great deal to do. They run up the mountains and lose their way in the wilderness, and he has to run after them and drive them together again. His clothes are all torn to pieces too, and will soon fall off his body. There is no tailor there, for Saint Peter won't let any of them in, as you know by the story.' 'Who would have thought it?' cried the woman. 'I tell you what. I will fetch his Sunday coat which is still hanging at home in the cupboard. He can wear that and look respectable. You will be so kind as to take it with you.' 'That won't be possible,' answered the peasant. 'People are not allowed to take clothes into heaven. They are taken away at the gate.' 'Then listen to me,' said the woman. 'I sold my good wheat yesterday and got a lot of money for it. I will send that to him. If you hide the purse in your pocket, no one will know that you have it.' 'If you can't manage it any other way,' said the peasant, 'I will do you that favor.' 'Just sit still where you are,' said she, 'and I will drive home and fetch the purse. I shall soon be back again. I do not sit down on the bundle of straw, but stand up in the wagon, because it makes it lighter for the cattle.' She drove her oxen away, and the peasant thought, 'That woman has a perfect talent for folly. If she really brings the money, my wife may think herself fortunate, for she will get no beating.' It was not long before she came in a great hurry with the money, and with her own hands put it in his pocket. Before she went away, she thanked him again a thousand times for his courtesy. When the woman got home again, she found her son who had come in from the field. She told him what unexpected things had befallen her, and then added, 'I am truly delighted at having found an opportunity of sending something to my poor husband. Who would ever have imagined that he could be suffering for want of anything up in heaven?' The son was full of astonishment. 'Mother,' said he, it is not every day that a man comes from heaven in this way. I will go out immediately, and see if he is still to be found, he must tell me what it is like up there, and how the work is done. He saddled the horse and rode off with all speed. He found the peasant who was sitting under a willow tree, and was about to count the money in the purse. 'Have you seen the man who has come from heaven?' cried the youth to him. 'Yes,' answered the peasant, 'he has set out on his way back there, and has gone up that hill, from whence it will be rather nearer. You could still catch him up, if you ride fast.' 'Alas,' said the youth, 'I have been doing tiring work all day, and the ride here has completely worn me out. You know the man. Be so kind as to get on my horse, and go and persuade him to come here.' 'Aha,' thought the peasant. 'Here is another who has not no wick in his lamp.' 'Why should I not do you this favor?' said he, and mounted the horse and rode off at a quick trot. The youth remained sitting there until night fell, but the peasant never came back. 'The man from heaven must certainly have been in a great hurry, and would not turn back,' thought he, 'and the peasant has no doubt given him the horse to take to my father.' He went home and told his mother what had happened, and that he had sent his father the horse so that he might not have to be always running about. 'You have done well,' answered she. 'You still have young legs and can go on foot.' When the peasant got home, he put the horse in the stable beside the cow which had been left as security, and then went to his wife and said, 'Trina, as your luck would have it, I have found two who are still more stupid fools than you. This time you escape without a beating. I will store it up for another occasion.' Then he lighted his pipe, sat down in his grandfather's chair, and said, 'It was a good stroke of business to get a sleek horse and a great purse full of money into the bargain, for two lean cows. If stupidity always brought in as much as that, I would be quite willing to hold it in honor.' So thought the peasant, but you no doubt prefer the simpletons.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Era [Peasant] from the Other World,Serbia,NA,NA,"A Turk and his wife halted in the shadow of a tree. The Turk went to the river to water his horse, and his wife remained to await his return. Just then an Era [peasant] passed by and saluted the Turkish woman, 'Allah help you, noble lady!' 'May God aid you,' she returned. 'Where are you coming from?' 'I come from the other world, noble lady.' 'As you have been in the other world, have you not, perchance, seen there my son Mouyo, who died a few months ago?' 'Oh, how could I help seeing him? He is my immediate neighbor.' 'Happy me! How is he, then?' 'He is well, may God be praised! But he could stand just a little more tobacco and some more pocket money to pay for black coffee.' 'Are you going back again? And if so, would you be so kind as to deliver to him this purse with his parent's greetings?' The Era took the money, protesting that he would be only too glad to convey so pleasant a surprise to the youth, and hurried away. Soon the Turk came back, and his wife told him what had transpired. He perceived at once that she had been victimized and without stopping to reproach her, he mounted his horse and galloped after the Era, who, observing the pursuit, and guessing at once that the horseman was the husband of the credulous woman, made all the speed that he could. There was a mill nearby, and making for it, the Era rushed in and addressed the miller with, 'For Goodness' sake, brother, fly! There is a Turkish horseman coming with drawn sword. He will kill you. I heard him say so and have hurried to warn you in time.' The miller had no time to ask for particulars. He knew how cruel the Turks were, and without a word he dashed out of the mill and fled up the adjacent rocks. Meantime the Era placed the miller's hat upon his own head and sprinkled flour copiously over his clothes, that he might look like a miller. No sooner was this done than the Turk came up. Alighting from his horse, he rushed into the mill and hurriedly asked the Era where he had hidden the thief. The Era pointed indifferently to the fleeing miller on the rock, whereupon the Turk requested him to take care of his horse while he ran and caught the swindler. When the Turk had gone some distance up the hill, our Era brushed his clothes, swiftly mounted the horse, and galloped away. The Turk caught the real miller, and demanded, 'Where is the money you took from my wife, swindler?' The poor miller made the sign of the cross and said, 'God forbid! I never saw your noble lady, still less did I take her money.' After about half an hour of futile discussion, the Turk was convinced of the miller's innocence, and returned to where he had left his horse. But lo! There was no sign of a horse! He walked sadly back to his wife, and she, seeing that her husband had no horse, asked in surprise, 'Where did you go, and what became of your horse?' The Turk replied, 'You sent money to our darling son; so I thought I had better send him the horse that he need not go on foot in the other world!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Good Wife and the Bad Husband,India,NA,NA,"In a remote village there lived a man and his wife, who was a stupid little woman and believed everything that was told her. Whenever people wanted anything from her they used to come and flatter her; but this had to be done in the absence of her husband, because he was a very miserly man, and would never part with any of his money, for all he was exceedingly rich. Nevertheless, without his knowledge cunning beggars would now and then come to his wife and beg of her, and they used generally to succeed, as she was so amenable to flattery. But whenever her husband found her out he would come down heavily upon her, sometimes with words and sometimes with blows. Thus quarrels arose, until at last, for the sake of peace, the wife had to give up her charitable propensities. Now there lived in the village a rogue of the first water, who had many a time witnessed what took place in the rich miser's family. Wishing to revive his old habit of getting what he wanted from the miser's wife he watched his opportunity and one day, when the miser had gone out on horseback to inspect his land, he came to his wife in the middle of the day and fell down at the threshold as if overcome by exhaustion. She ran up to him at once and asked him who he was. 'I am a native of Kailâsa,' said he, 'sent down by an old couple living there, for news of their son and his wife.' 'Who are those fortunate dwellers on Shiva's mountain?' said she. On this the rogue gave the names of her husband's deceased parents, which he had taken good care, of course, to learn from the neighbors. 'Do you really come from them?' said she. 'Are they doing well there? Dear old people. How glad my husband would be to see you, were he here! Sit down please, and take rest awhile until he returns. How do they live there? Have they enough to eat and to dress themselves?' These and a thousand other questions she put to the rogue, who, for his part, wanted to get away as quick as possible, as he knew full well how he would be treated if the miser should return while he was there, so he said, 'Mother, language has no words to describe the miseries they are undergoing in the other world. They have not a rag to cover themselves, and for the last six days they have eaten nothing, and have lived on water only. It would break your heart to see them.' The rogue's pathetic words fully deceived the good woman, who firmly believed that he had come down from Kailâsa, sent by the old couple to her. 'Why should they suffer so?' said she, 'when their son has plenty to eat and to dress himself, and when their daughter-in-law wears all sorts of costly ornaments?' With that she went into the house and came out with two boxes containing all the clothes of herself and her husband, and gave the whole lot to the rogue, with instructions to take them to her poor old people in Kailâsa. She also gave him her jewel box for her mother-in-law. 'But dress and jewels will not fill their hungry stomachs,' said he. Requesting him to wait a little, the silly woman brought out her husband's cash chest and emptied the contents into the rogue's coat, who now went off in haste, promising to give everything to the good people in Kailâsa. Our good lady in accordance with etiquette, conducted him a few hundred yards along the road and sent news of herself through him to her relatives, and then returned home. The rogue now tied up all his booty in his coat and ran in haste towards the river and crossed over it. No sooner had our heroine reached home than her husband returned after his inspection of his lands. Her pleasure at what she had done was so great, that she met him at the door and told him all about the arrival of the messenger from Kailâsa, and how she had sent clothes, and jewels, and money through him to her husband's parents. The anger of her husband knew no bounds. But he checked himself for a while, and asked her which road the messenger from Kailâsa had taken, as he said he wanted to follow him and send some more news to his parents. To this she willingly agreed and pointed out the direction the rogue had gone. With rage in his heart at the trick played upon his stupid wife, our hero rode on in hot haste, and after a ride of two ghatikâs he caught sight of the departing rogue, who, finding escape hopeless, climbed up into a big pîpal tree. Our hero soon reached the bottom of the tree and shouted to the rogue to come down. 'No, I cannot, this is the way to Kailâsa,' said the rogue, and climbed up on the top of the tree. Seeing no chance of the rogue's coming down, and as there was no third person present to whom he could call for help, our hero tied his horse to an adjacent tree and began climbing up the pîpal tree himself. The rogue thanked all his gods when he saw this, and waited until his enemy had climbed nearly up to him, and then, throwing down his bundle of booty, leapt quickly from branch to branch until he reached the bottom. He then got upon his enemy's horse, and with his bundle rode into a dense forest in which no one was likely to find him. Our hero being much older in years was no match for the rogue. So he slowly came down, and cursing his stupidity in having risked his horse to recover his property, returned home at his leisure. His wife, who was waiting his arrival, welcomed him with a cheerful countenance and said, 'I thought as much, you have sent away your horse to Kailâsa to be used by your father.' Vexed as he was at his wife's words, our hero replied in the affirmative to conceal his own stupidity. Thus, some there are in this world, who, though they may not willingly give away anything, pretend to have done so when, by accident, or stupidity, they happen to lose it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Man Who Fell from Heaven,Netherlands,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a peasant's wife, a good, simple soul who was just returning from the market. She had almost reached home when she met a young man on the road who was continuously looking up toward heaven. 'What is the meaning of that?' thought the old woman, and when she came closer to him, she asked, 'My friend, why are you looking up into the air? Did something happen up there?' 'Dear woman,' he said, 'I just fell from heaven, and now I cannot find the hole again.' 'So,' said the old woman, 'if you just fell from heaven, then you must know your way around up there pretty well?' 'Of course,' said the young man. 'Then perhaps you know my son Kees, who died last year?' 'Kees,' said the man. 'Is he your son? And you ask me if I know him? My dear woman, he is my nearest neighbor!' 'That is wonderful,' said the old woman, 'and how is he doing?' 'Quite well! Quite well! But last week he was complaining that his stockings are worn out. And the sausage, the ham, and the butter are all gone, but other than that he is doing well.' 'Oh, man, oh, man! Isn't there anyone there who can take care of his clothes?' 'No,' said the man, 'in heaven you have to take care of your own clothes.' 'Can't he buy sausage and butter?' 'Yes, they are for sale, but everything is terribly expensive, and he cannot afford what is there.' 'Oh dear, it is too bad that Kees still has to be in need now that he is dead. And I could well afford to give him something!' Then the man told her exactly how Kees was doing, and what he was doing, and where he lived. Finally he said that he had to go, otherwise he would be late in returning to heaven. 'Are you going back to heaven now?' asked the old woman. 'Yes, indeed,' he said. 'Then because you know Kees so well, would you be so kind as to do me a great favor? Come home with me, and I will pack a few things that you can give to him.' 'Well,' he said, 'I will do it because it is for Kees, but I shall get my ears pulled for being away so long.' They went together to the farmhouse, and the old woman prepared two packages: one for the man who had fallen from heaven, because he had been so friendly, and one for Kees, but the package for Kees was the larger one. She also gave him a bag of money for her son. Then he took leave in order to make his return trip. Thinking, 'Kees will be so happy when his neighbor comes home, and Kees hears that he has been here,' the old woman watched him until he was out of sight. She never learned if Kees received her package. A short time ago someone told me that this was because the man still has not found the hole through which he had fallen from heaven.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Millet Trader,Sri Lanka,NA,NA,"A millet trader, traveling from village to village, came to a house where a woman was weeping and weeping. 'I have been to the other world and back,' he said, to emphasize the length and difficulty of his journey. Then he added, 'Why are you crying?' 'My daughter died six days ago,' said the woman. 'My Latti is now in the other world. Did you meet her there?' The millet trader said, 'Don't cry, mother. I did meet her there. She is now in the other world, and I am to marry that very Latti. In fact, I have come for Latti's necklaces and bracelets. She sent me for them.' The woman quickly arose and cooked an abundant meal for the trader. 'Mother,' he said, 'I must go immediately. Where is my father-in-law?' 'He is plowing,' she said. 'Wait until he comes.' 'I cannot,' he said. 'Our wedding feast is tomorrow. I must be off now to go to the wedding.' So the woman gave the trader her daughter's gold and silver necklaces and bracelets. These he took, along with his bundles of millet, and went away. When the woman's husband returned from plowing, he found her laughing. 'What are you laughing at?' he asked. The woman replied, 'Why shouldn't I laugh? Our son-in-law came.' 'What son-in-law?' the man asked. The woman said over and over again, 'Latti's man came. Latti's man came. Our son-in-law, to whom our daughter is given in the other world. It is true.' The man asked, 'Can anyone in the other world come to this world? Did you cook for him and feed him?' The woman replied, 'Of course I cooked for him and fed him! And he said that Latti had told him to fetch her necklaces and bracelets for her. So I gave them to him as well.' Then the man said, 'Where is our horse, and which way did the man go?' Mounting his horse he went to seek the millet trader. The trader, walking along in a rice field, looked back and saw a man approaching on horseback. He said, 'That man is coming to seize me.' The trader climbed into a nearby tree. The man tied his horse to a root of the tree and then climbed into the tree to catch the trader. But the trader dropped from the end of a branch, cut the horse's tether, placed his millet bundles and other goods on the horse, mounted it, and rode off. The man descended slowly from the tree and called out to the fleeing trader, 'Tell Latti that your mother-in-law gave you a few things for her arms and neck, but that your father-in-law gave you a horse.' Having returned home, he said to the woman, 'It is true. He really is Latti's man. I gave him the horse, so he would not have to go on foot.' The woman said, 'Isn't it so indeed! I told you so.' Then the millet trader returned to his own village, where he remained.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Roguish Peasant,Russia,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there lived in a Russian village an old peasant woman who had two sons. One, however, died; and the other was from home, but was soon expected to return to his native village. One evening, as the peasant woman was working in her little hut, a soldier walked in at the open door. 'Good day, little mother!' he said. 'Can I stay here the night?' 'Yes, certainly, with pleasure, little father. But whence come you, and who are you?' 'I am nobody in particular, little mother. I am an emigrant for the next world.' 'Ah! My precious soul! One of my sons died a little while ago. Did you happen to come across him?' 'Why, yes, of course! We lived in the same sphere.' 'No, really! You don't mean it?' 'He feeds and looks after the young cranes in the next world.' 'Oh, my precious soul! But where did he get them?' 'Where did he get them! Why, the young cranes roam about among the sweet-briar!' 'How did he look? What clothes had he on?' 'Clothes!' He was all in tatters, and a pair of wings.' 'Poor fellow! Well, I have got about forty yards of gray cloth and a ten-ruble note. Take them, good man, and give them to my son.' 'With pleasure, little mother.' Next morning the old woman gave the soldier the cloth and the money, and wished him a safe journey back. And she also begged him to come again soon and tell her how her son was getting on. She waited and waited for many a week, but the soldier did not return. At last the day arrived when her other son was expected home. 'How are you, mother mine?' he exclaimed, coming into the hut and embracing his mother. 'Have you any news?' 'Yes, my boy. Not very long ago an emigrant from the other world came to stay the night here, and he brought some news of your brother, for they both lived in the same sphere. But he said that the poor fellow had nothing but a pair of wings, so I gave him forty yards of cloth and ten rubles.' 'Good gracious, mother, you have given away everything we had. And for what? Just because that man was artful enough to tell you a lot of lies. It really is most astonishing how confiding some people are! I think I will go into the wide world and tell a lot of lies, and see whether, after cheating everybody, I become a very rich man or not. If I succeed, I shall come home again, and then we can live happily together, and have food and money in plenty ever after.' Next day the son went off to try his luck. He went on and on until he came to an estate belonging to a rich Russian barin or gentleman. He walked up to the lordly mansion and saw, in a garden near the house, a large pig with a number of little ones walking about. A thought struck him, and he went down on his knees before the pigs, and began making most polite bows to them. Now the mistress of the house, who was looking out of one of the windows, saw the performance, and was greatly amused. 'Go,' she said to one of her maids, 'and ask the mujik [peasant] what he is bowing for.' The maid went up to the peasant, saying, 'Little mujik, tell me why you are on your knees before the pigs, and why you are bowing to them? My lady has sent me to ask.' 'Tell your mistress, my little dear, that yonder pig is my wife's sister, and my son is going to be married tomorrow, so I am asking her and her young ones to come to the wedding. That is all. And she has consented, on condition that your lady allows them. So go and ask your mistress whether she will let them come with me.' The girl burst out laughing, and went straight to her mistress, who also began laughing heartily when she heard all the peasant had said. 'What a donkey!' she cried. 'Fancy asking the pigs to his son's wedding! Well, never mind. Let all his friends have a good laugh at him. Yes, he may take the pigs. But first dress them up in my shuba (fur coat), and let the coachman get my own little carriage and team ready, so that the pigs need not go to the wedding on foot.' When the carriage was ready, they dressed the pig up in the lady's fur coat, and placed it in the carriage with the young ones, and gave the reins to the peasant, who at once rode away homewards. Now the master of the house, who was away shooting at the time, returned home a few minutes after the peasant had left. His wife ran out to meet him, laughing. 'I am so glad you have returned, my dear!' she said, 'as I am longing to have someone to laugh with. Such a funny thing happened while you were away. A peasant came here and began kneeling and bowing before our pigs. He declared that one of them was his wife's sister, and he was asking her and the little ones to come to his son's wedding!' 'Yes,' the husband replied. 'and did you let her go?' 'Of course I did. I even had the pig dressed in my best shuba, and had her put in my own little carriage and team, and let the peasant drive it himself. I think it was nothing but right for me to do so. The peasant was so very polite to the pigs. What do you think, my dear?' 'What did I think? Well this: that the peasant was an ass, and you were another!' And the good man, like the rest of his sex, thought it was a splendid opportunity for flying into a rage. He told his wife that she had been cheated, and then rushing out of the house, he flung himself upon his horse and galloped off after the peasant, who, when he heard that he was being being pursued, conveyed the carriage and team into a dark forest hard by, and then going back, took off his cap, seated himself near the entrance of the forest, put the cap beside him on the ground, and waited until the horseman came up to him. 'Hark you, little father!' cried the barin, 'have you seen a peasant drive this way with a carriage and team and a number of pigs in it?' 'See him? I should rather think I did! He rode past a long time ago.' 'In which direction did he drive? How had I better go? Do you think I am likely to overtake him?' 'Yes, you could overtake him, I daresay. But the way he went by has many a turning, and you are sure to lose yourself. Is the road quite unknown to you?' 'Yes, little brother. I think, if you don't mind, it would be better for you to go in search of him and bring him back to me, for you seem to know the way so well!' 'No, brother, I could not possibly, for I have a falcon under my cap here and must watch it.' 'I can do that for you.' 'No, you are sure to let him out, and the bird is very valuable. Besides, if I lost it my master would never forgive me.' 'But how much is it worth?' 'Three hundred rubles, I should think.' 'Very well then, if I lose the bird I will pay the money.' 'No, brother, if you really want me to go after the peasant, you had better give me the money now, for heaven knows what might happen afterwards. You might lose the bird, and then take your departure too, and I should never see either the falcon or the money!' 'Oh, you incredulous man! Here, take the three hundred rubles anyhow!' The peasant took the money, and at the barin's wish mounted his horse and rode off into the forest, leaving the barin to watch over the empty cap. He waited and waited, but the peasant did not return, which he thought looked rather queer. The sun began to set. Still no peasant. 'Stop!' thought the barin. 'Let me look and see whether there really is a falcon under that cap. If there is, then the peasant may possibly return. If not, well, then it is of no use waiting here and wasting my time.' He peeped under the cap, but no falcon was to be seen. 'Ah, the wretch! he laughed. 'I do believe that he was the very same man who cheated my wife out of her carriage and team, her shuba, and the pigs.' He spat on the ground three times with vexation, and returned home to his wife penitent. Meanwhile our friend the peasant had long since got safely back to his mother with all his treasures. 'Well, mother mine!' he cried, 'this world of ours can certainly boast of some very good-natured fools. Just look, without any reason whatever, they gave me three horses, a carriage, three hundred rubles, and a pig with her little ones. Now we can live happily for some time at least, thanks to the stupidity of these people. It really is wonderful.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Simple Wife,Italy,NA,NA,"'Yes,' said the man who had a daughter to marry; 'you'll do very well; you're just about the sort of son-in- law I want.' And then he added: 'If our daughter is to be betrothed today, it is the occasion for a feast.' So to the wife he said, 'Prepare the table; 'and to the daughter he said, 'Draw the wine.' The daughter went down into the cellar to draw the wine. But as she drew the wine she began to cry, saying: 'If I am to be married I shall have a child, and the child will be a son, and the son will be a priest, and the priest will be a bishop, and the bishop will be a cardinal, and the cardinal will be a pope.' And she cried and cried, and the wine was running all the time, so that the bottle she was filling ran over, and went on running over. Then said the father and mother: 'What can the girl be doing down in the cellar so long?' But the mother said: 'I must go and see.' So the mother went down to see why she was so long, but the moment she came into the cellar she, too, began to cry; so that the wine still went on running over. Then the father said: 'What can the girl and her mother both be doing so long down in the cellar? I must go and see.' So the father went down into the cellar; but the moment he got into the cellar he, too, began to cry, and could do nothing for crying; so the wine still went on running over. Then he who had come to seek a wife said: 'What can these people all be doing so long down in the cellar?' So he, too, went down to see, and found them all crying in the cellar and the wine running over. Only when the wine was all run out they left off crying and came upstairs again. Then the betrothal and the marriage were happily celebrated. One day after they were married the husband went into the market to buy meat, and he bought a large provision because he had invited a friend to dinner. When the wife saw him buy such a quantity of meat she began to cry, saying: 'What can we do with such a lot of meat?' 'Oh, never mind, don't make a misery of it,' said the husband; 'put it behind you [never mind it].' The simple wife took the meat and went home, saying to her parents, and crying the while: 'My husband says I am to put all this meat behind me! Do tell me what can I do?' 'You can't put the whole lot of it behind you, that's certain,' replied the equally simple mother; 'but we can manage it between us.' Then she took the meat and put all the hard, bony part on one chair, where she made the father sit down on it; all the fat, skinny part she put on another chair, and made the wife sit down on it; and the fleshy, meaty part she put on another chair, and sat down on that herself. Presently the husband came with his friend, ready for dinner, knocking at the door. None of the three dared to move, however, that they might not cease to be fulfilling his injunctions. Then he looked through the keyhole, and, seeing them all sitting down without moving when he knocked, he thought they must all be dead; so he ran and fetched a locksmith, who opened the door for him. 'What on earth are you all doing there,'exclaimed the hungry husband, 'instead of getting dinner ready?' 'You told me to put the meat behind me, and I have done so,' answered the simple wife. Then he saw they were sitting on the meat. Out of all patience with such idiocy, he exclaimed: 'This is the last you'll ever see of me. At least I promise you not to come back till I have met three other people as idiotic as you, and that's hardly likely to occur.' With that he took his friend to a tavern to dine, and then put on a pilgrim's dress and went wandering over the country. In the first city he came to there was great public rejoicing going on. The princess had just been married, and the court was keeping high festival. As he came up to the palace the bride and bridegroom were just come back from church. The bride wore one of those very high round headdresses that they used to wear in olden time, with a long veil hanging from it. It was so very high that she could not by any means get in at the door, and there she stuck, not knowing what to do. Then she began to cry, saying: 'What shall I do? what shall I do?' 'Shall I tell you what to do?'said the pilgrim-husband, drawing near. 'Oh, pray do, if you can; I will give you a hundred scudi if you will only show me how to get in.' So he went and made her go a few steps backward, and then bow her head very low, and so she could pass under the door. 'Really, I have found one woman as simple as my people at home,' said the pilgrim-husband, as he sat down to the banquet at the special invitation of the princess, in reward for his services. Afterwards she counted out a hundred scudi to him, and he went further. Further along the road he came to a farm, with barns and cattle and plenty of stock about, and a large well at which a woman was drawing water. Instead of dipping in the pail, she had got the well-rope knotted into a huge knot, which she kept dipping into the water and squeezing out into the pail, and she kept crying as she did so: 'Oh, how long shall I be filling the pail! The pail will never be full!' 'Shall I show you how to fill it?'asked the pilgrim-husband, drawing near. 'Oh, yes, do show me if you can. I will give you a hundred scudi if you will only show me.' Then he took all the knots out of the rope and let down the pail by it, and filled it in a minute. 'Here's a second woman as stupid as my people at home,' said the pilgrim-husband, as the farmer's wife asked him in to dinner in reward for his great services. 'If I go on at this rate I shall have to return to her at last, in spite of my protestations.' After that the farmer's wife counted out the hundred scudi of the promised reward, and he went on further, having first packed six eggs into his hollow staff as provision for the journey. Towards nightfall he arrived at a lone cottage. Here he knocked and asked a bed for his night's lodging. 'I can't give you that,' said a voice from the inside; 'for I am a lone widow. I can't take a man in to sleep here.' 'But I am a pilgrim,' replied he; 'let me in at least to cook a bit of supper.' 'That I don't mind doing,' said the good wife, and she opened the door. 'Thanks, good friend!' said the pilgrim-husband as he sat down by the stove; 'now add to your charity a couple of eggs in a pan.' So she gave him a pan and two eggs, and a bit of butter to cook them in; but he took the six eggs out of his staff and broke them into the pan, too. Presently, when the good wife turned her head his way again, and saw eight eggs swimming in the pan instead of two, she said: 'Lack-a-day! You must surely be some strange being from the other world. Do you know so-and-so there?' (naming her dead husband). 'Oh, yes,' said the pilgrim-husband, enjoying the joke. 'I know him very well. He lives just next to me.' 'Only to think of that!' replied the poor woman. 'And do tell me, how do you get on in the other world? What sort of a life is it?' 'Oh, not so very bad. It depends what sort of a place you get. The part where we are is not very bad, except that we get very little to eat. Your husband, for instance, is nearly starved.' 'No, really! 'cried the good wife, clasping her hands. 'Only fancy! My good husband starving out there! So fond as he was of a good dinner, too!' Then she added, coaxingly: 'As you know him so well, perhaps you wouldn't mind doing him the charity of taking him a little somewhat to give him a treat. There are such lots of things I could easily send him.' 'O, dear no, not at all. I'll do it with great pleasure,'answered he. 'But I'm not going back till tomorrow; and if I don't sleep here I must go on further, and then I shan't come by this way.' 'That's true,'replied the widow. 'Ah, well, I mustn't mind what the folks say, for such an opportunity as this may never occur again. You must sleep in my bed, and I must sleep on the hearth; and in the morning I'll load a donkey with provisions for my poor dear husband.' 'Oh, no,'replied the pilgrim. 'You shan't be disturbed in your bed; only let me sleep on the hearth, that will do for me; and as I'm an early riser I can be gone before anyone's astir, so folks won't have anything to say.' So it was done, and an hour before sunrise the woman was up loading the donkey with the best of her stores. There were ham, and maccaroni, and flour, and cheese, and wine. All this she committed to the pilgrim, saying: 'You'll send the donkey back, won't you?' 'Of course I would send him back, He'd be no use to us out there: but I shan't get out again myself for another hundred years or so, and I fear he won't find his way back alone, for it's no easy way to find.' 'To be sure not; I ought to have thought of that,' replied the widow. 'Ah, well, so as my poor husband gets a good meal never mind the donkey.' So the pretended pilgrim from the other world went his way. He hadn't gone a hundred yards before the widow called him back. 'Ah, she's beginning to think better of it!' said he to himself; and he continued his way, pretending not to hear. 'Good pilgrim!' shouted the widow; 'I forgot one thing. Would any money be of use to my poor dear husband?' 'Oh dear yes, all the use in the world,' replied the pilgrim; 'you can always get anything for money everywhere.' 'Oh, do come back then, and I'll trouble you with a hundred scudi for him.' The pretended pilgrim came back willingly for the hundred scudi, and the widow counted them out to him. 'There is no help for it,' soliloquised he as he went his way; 'I must go back to those at home. I have actually found three women each more stupid than they.' So he went home to live, and complained no more of the simplicity of his wife.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Story of the Messenger from Heaven,Moravia,NA,NA,"Once a journeyman came to a peasant woman and asked her for a handout. She gave him something to eat and asked where he came from. 'From Paris,' he answered, but the peasant woman, who was somewhat hard of hearing, understood 'from paradise.' 'Oh,' she said, 'if you come from paradise then for sure you must know my blessed first husband, who was released from purgatory long ago and by now must be in heaven.' The journeyman, who caught on very quickly, said, 'Of course, I know him very well. But he is suffering from the severe cold, and he asked me when I go to earth to look up his wife and ask her if she wouldn't send him a pair of boots and some warm clothes.' So the peasant woman put together a bundle of clothes from her second husband: boots, jacket, trousers, vest, and hat. These she gave to journeyman so he could take them to her husband in paradise. And then the journeyman disappeared with the clothes. When her husband came home, the woman told him that a little while ago a journeyman had been here, and that she had given him boots and clothes for her blessed deceased husband, for the journeyman had come directly from paradise. The man cursed about her stupidity, and asked in which direction the journeyman had left, for he intended to pursue him and take the clothes away from him. In order to make better time, he chased after him on horseback. The journeyman had gone a good way down the main road when he saw a rider in the distance. Seeing that it was a peasant, he immediately assumed that he was being pursued. Therefore he quickly threw the boots and the clothing over a garden fence, then sat down next to the road and placed his hat next to him in the grass. When the peasant reached him, he asked him if he had seen a man carrying a bundle of clothes and a pair of boots. 'Yes,' said the sitting man, 'I met him a little while ago, and he told me where he was going. But you will never catch him, because he will see from afar that you are chasing after him. But, do you know what? If you will look after the bird that I have here under my hat, I will get on your horse and ride after him and bring the clothes back to you. He won't run away from me.' The peasant was very pleased with this, and he let the rascal mount his horse, while he sat down on the ground and watched the bird. Hour after hour passed by, and the horse and rider did not return. Finally the peasant began to see the light. Cautiously he lifted up the hat to see what kind of rare bird was under it. O horror! He held his nose and quickly put the hat back over the 'bird.' Sadly he returned home. He arrived home on foot and without his horse and without the clothes and boots. His wife asked him where he had left the horse, and where the clothes and boots were. 'Oh,' said the man, 'he really was a messenger from heaven. I let him keep the clothes and gave him the horse so he could return to heaven faster.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Traveler from Heaven,Germany (Swabia),NA,NA,"The hostess said, 'Where are you coming from?' 'I have just come from heaven!' said the stranger. 'What do you say! You have come from heaven?' said the woman. 'But of course,' he replied. 'Well, then,' said the woman, 'you must have seen my blessed husband. His name is Hans.' 'But of course I have seen him,' said the stranger. 'I know him very well. We have always been good friends with each other.' 'Good heavens!' said the woman. 'What do you say! Have you really seen him? And spoken with him? And know him?' 'Why not?' replied the man. 'For heaven's sake!' said the woman. 'How is he then?' 'Oh, just so-so. Not the very best,' said the stranger. 'It is difficult to get by up there. He has to work hard, and the wages are very low. The last time I saw him he just about did not have a whole shirt on his body.' 'For pity's sake!' sobbed the woman. 'If only I knew,' she continued, 'how I could send something back to him. I would like to give him something. I have enough here, thank heaven!' 'Oh!' said the wanderer. 'That would be good. I am going back right away, and I could take something to him, whatever you would like to send him. I would be glad to do it!' 'Oh, my dear friend,' said the woman, 'you say that he no longer has a shirt on his body, a whole one? I just had a half dozen new ones made for my oldest son. They would also fit my blessed husband. Would you take them along?' 'Gladly!' he said. 'And these three hundred florins as well?' 'Those as well,' he said. 'I can manage to carry them.' 'Oh heaven,' she continued, 'and I have half a ham and a few sausages -- he always liked them so much!' The stranger took these as well, and then, while saying a thousand thanks, he set forth on his journey. When the hostess's oldest son came home and learned from his mother what had happened, he quickly saddled his horse and chased after the traveler from heaven. The latter, in good spirits, had walked into the country and had just sat down at the edge of some woods. When he saw the rider galloping toward him he sensed that it meant trouble. He immediately set his hat on the ground and pretended to be carefully watching over it. When the rider came near he stopped and asked the wanderer if he was the man who was traveling to heaven. 'Yes indeed,' he said. 'I am the one.' 'Then,' he shouted, 'give me at once the money that you were to take to my father!' 'Whatever you want,' said the traveler. 'It is all the same to me. If you don't want your father to have it, then I won't have to carry it. But you will have to wait a little while. I have caught a very valuable and rare bird under my hat. It is worth at least three hundred florins. I sent a man into town to fetch a cage for me. Because he did not have anything to carry, I gave the man the three hundred florins that your father was to have. When he comes back with the cage then you will have to ride to town with me.' The son agreed to do this, and he remained there. After a while the traveler from heaven said, 'If you would watch over this bird very carefully then I could run after the man right now, otherwise he may not come back very soon. Or, it would be even faster if you would lend me your horse. Then I would be back immediately, and you could return home in good time.' The son thought that this proposal made good sense. He agreed to it at once and let the traveler mount his horse. Meanwhile, he kept watch over the valuable bird under the hat. There he sat, and after sitting there for several hours the traveler from heaven still had not returned with the horse and the money. He could not leave his post because of the valuable bird, which he considered to be security for the three hundred florins. Evening came, and finally he decided to pick up the bird in his hand and take it into town himself. Very carefully he lifted the hat a little, so that he could reach his hand under it. It was not a bird that he took hold of, but something entirely different, something that he never told anyone about. Suddenly he decided to return home to his mother. She was surprised that he came home so late, and without his horse. He told her that he had decided to give the horse as well to the traveler from heaven, so that he could deliver the things more quickly to his father. She was satisfied with this answer. The son did not have anything further to say about the matter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1540,The Travelling Scholar from Paradise,"Germany, Hans Sachs",NA,NA,"[October 8, 1550] THE PERSONS. The Travelling Scholar. The Farmer. The Farmer's Wife. Wife My breath is burdened with my sighs, While thoughts of bygone days arise When my first husband lived. Ah me, He loved me dearly, tenderly. As I loved him! He was most kind. Honest in thought, and calm in mind: With him the gladness of my life Died out though I became a wife Again, and try, through weary days, To love my man. Alas, always Remembrance comes to mar my plan! He is not like my first good man: This one is parsimonious, stern. Anxious more money still to earn; He would be rich; for mirth cares not -- Alas, how weary is my lot. Thinking of him now lost to me! Would I could show my memory To him, who made me laugh and sing! Oh, I would give him everything! [The Travelling Scholar comes.] Scholar Dear mother, pray may I come in? I would thy commendation win. Thy charitable hand and alms; I have much skill and many charms From books, and Venus' mountain know. Where I have Cupids seen, and so Can tell of marvels. Now I go Throughout the land, and to and fro; A traveller upon my way From Paris, here I may not stay -- Wife Dear sir! Dear sir! What dost thou say? From Paradise thou cam'st? I pray, Dear sir, thou wilt to me declare If thou didst see my husband there? He died -- O God, why was it so -- To my sore grief, a year ago. He was so honest, gentle, wise, I hope that he found Paradise. Scholar There were so many fair souls there! -- Tell me, what garments did he wear When he passed to eternity? And this may stir my memory. Wife Easy it is to tell thee this -- I hope that he is now in bliss! -- He wore a blue hat, and his dress A winding sheet, no more, nor less: The winding sheet was not so bad; I wish he had been better clad. Scholar Oh, my good dame, yes: that blue hat! How well do I remember that! No trowsers, shirt, nor shoes, he had; Just in his grave-cloth; it was sad: Howe'er he might that blue hat cock. And wrap his sheet, it was a mock. When others ate he could not join -- He had no heller, not a coin -- He looked at them with longing face. And lingered much about the place; Unless an alms some good soul gives The Lord alone knows how he lives! Good dame, it grieves me much to say He is in such a wretched wav. Wife Dear husband! What hard fate he hath. Not e'en a pfennig for a bath! How pitiful! What grief to me He in such poverty should be! Tell me, dear sir, more thanks to earn, Dost thou to Paradise return? Scholar Tomorrow I set forth, and fare For fourteen days, to bring me there. Wife Wilt thou a bundle from me bear, For my dear husband, with all care? Scholar Gladly will I; but do not waste My time; I am in utmost haste. Wife Dear sir, have patience: I will be But a short time while hurriedly I gather up such things as he May use in his necessity. [The Wife goes out.] Scholar She is a simple soul, and kind -- Too good to cheat -- but I must find Money and clothing, which I need; Then I will go away with speed Before her husband comes; for he May lack his wife's simplicity; So would he spoil the thing for me; Therefore I go while yet I can Become the heir of this dead man. [The Wife brings in a bundle.] Wife Good messenger, I beg of thee, Take these twelve gulden now from me -- This money so long hid away, My little all, for a dark day -- Take it, dear sir, to him, I pray. With this my hoard I gladly part To the true husband of my heart; The bundle, too, I pray thee, take To my dear husband for his sake: Therein are blue cloth, hose and shoes; The cloth he surely there can use For coat and trowsers: and, with these, Pocket and pocket-knife will please. Tell him, the next time I will try To send him a more full supply; For I will save up all I can. Thinking of him, my dear, good man. Now go at once, that sooner he May be relieved from poverty. [The Travelling Scholar takes up the bundle.] Scholar How will thy husband gaily think. When, on a feast-day, he will drink With friends his quart, how dear is she Who sends this cheer and revelry! Wife How long, dear messenger, I pray, Will be the time thou art away? Scholar It may be long: it cannot be That I shall come quite speedily. Wife Alas! if very long away His money will be spent: no play, Nor food, nor drink, nor bath! Alas, That this too soon may come to pass! This groschen is my last; take it; I have no more of coin, nor wit. When threshing time is o'er I can Steal some odd coins from my good man, And bury them, as once before. Just at inside of stable door; There they are safe -- my gulden fair I kept for months in safety there -- Accept this thaler for thy pay: Say greetings to my good man, pray! [The Travelling Scholar goes out.] Wife (singing) Farmer Dame, thou art merry: pray thee tell What is it pleaseth thee so well? Wife Dear husband, O rejoice with me! I tell my happiness to thee: Farmer Who hit this fool-calf in the eye? Wife It is a marvel! Passing by, A scholar stopped and spoke with me: From Paradise quite recently He wandered hither; and he told Of my first husband, poor and old: He only has his old blue hat And winding sheet. Oh, think of that! He hath no money, coat, nor shoes; No hose, nor anything to use Save hat and sheet -- no, nothing save What he took with him to the grave. Farmer Wilt thou not send him something fit? Wife Dear husband, yes; I thought of it: I sent our blue cloth, shirt and hose, And breeches. He doth need the clothes. I sent a gulden, too, that he Might not without a groschen be. Farmer Thou hast done well. But which way went The man by whom thy gifts were sent? Wife He went by the Low Road, and bore The bundle on his back. He wore Around his neck a yellow net. Farmer Yes, wife; and I will find him yet; Thou hast done well to give the stuff; But, of the money, not enough -- Not near enough; it will not last. Have my horse saddled to go fast. And I will ride the Low Road o'er. And give the man ten gulden more. Wife Before all things do I thank thee. That thou art now so good to me And my old husband. Tenderly I will deserve this love. Indeed All of my savings, in thy need, I'll give -- Farmer Cease babbling now to me! Have my horse saddled instantly, Or, in the fen-land, he will be Forever lost to me and thee. [The Wife goes out.] Farmer Ach Gott, how weak a wife have I! That she is fair none will deny; She cooks a sausage, cleans a dish, But, in her mind, is a stock-fish: Half fool! yes; more a fool than any Fools of our parish, who are many. She sends her husband, dead a year, Money and clothes, and hath no fear The scholar hath deceived her. Ah! To catch the rogue will I ride far; Then I will beat the rascal well, So each big bruise will surely tell That Paradise he hath not found; Then, while he grovels on the ground, Money and clothes will I retake, And bear them home. For safety's sake My wife must feel my fists; if she Have black eyes, to remember me And her own folly, it may be A lesson. Through her foolishness My fortune must grow less and less. Alas, that I, to please my eyes, Married this useless, comely prize! I shall repent me all my days: If she had shrewd though drunken ways, So were she better, and might be More of a helpmate unto me. [The Wife comes in.] Wife The horse is ready: mount! away! And God go with thee through the day! [The Farmer and his Wife go out ; the Travelling Scholar comes in with his pack.] Scholar How Fortune bids my star arise! Puts in my hand unlooked-for prize! Now I can live the winter through -- And there are other women, too. Foolish as this, who will as well Believe each tale that I may tell -- Others, like this, not over-wise. Who will send me to Paradise -- Odd-bobs! Here comes one riding fast; Behind the hedge my pack I cast; I doubt not this good man would take Bundle and coin for his wife's sake; He may not promptly be deceived; Nor his wife's Paradise believed. He cannot ride across the moor; The fen-land swamp would bog him sore -- Ah! he dismounts. I put away My net; and wait what he may say. Leaning on my poor stick, who can Suspect I am no peasant man? [The Farmer comes in with spurs on.] Farmer Good luck, my man! In this wild waste Hast seen one running in hot haste, With yellow neck-net? On his back A bundle blue, Uke peddler's pack ? Scholar Oh, yes ; I saw him passing here; He crossed the moor like hunted deer; Across the moor, and to the wood; A moment, resting there, he stood; Through these scrub bushes went his track; He had a bundle on his back; Weary he seemed as on he ran; You quickly may o'ertake the man. Farmer Upon my oath, it must be he! Good fellow, hold my horse for me; Through this soft moss I needs must run. To catch this crafty, thievish one; Then will I beat him black and blue -- A beating that he long shall rue. If he live long, which much I doubt. Hold fast the horse till I come out. Scholar I wait a priest, and so shall stay Until he soon may pass this way; I gladly hold your horse's rein If you will soon be back again. Farmer Earn thus a kreuzer. I am strong: Catching this thief will not take long. Scholar Go swiftly on, the moor across; And have no fear about your horse. [The Farmer goes out] Welcome is this fine horse to me: Fair Fortune smiles most graciously. And brings good luck still in my way; This is, indeed, my lucky day! The simple wife gave clothes and gold; Her husband gives his horse -- to hold; Which I will do: I need not walk; The man is kind, for all his talk: He sees I am a lazy man. And so he helps me all he can. The bog is dangerous and deep, And the safe pathway hard to keep; Unless he choose his footsteps nice He will be first in Paradise; For should he here a misstep make It were the last that he would take. Now I will strap my pack across The back of this convenient horse; I care not here to make long stay; But speedily will ride away. This husband will have searched in vain, And soon, perchance, be back again; He might be in such surly mood. My acts would be misunderstood; So, laden with my good supplies, I spur away to Paradise. While he still seeks his horse to win, I eat my roast fowl at an inn. [The Travelling Student rides off with his pack. The Wife comes in.] Wife It is a lonesome time today! Oh wherefore doth my husband stay! I fear that he has lost his way In bogs, so my old husband may Suffer in want from long delay -- I hear the evening pipe's loud blast; And home the pigs are running fast. [The Wife goes out, and the Farmer comes in and looks around.] Farmer Odds-bobs! Where is my horse? Not here? What a wise man am I! 'Tis clear: The rascal that deceived my wife Has now my horse. Upon my life, He has our money, clothes and horse, And I am left with triple loss! To trust that lying rogue, am I The biggest fool beneath the sky! Here comes my wife, and looks for me; I dare not tell this history: I threatened her with beating sore; Now I deserve that beating more; She lost the clothes -- small loss indeed -- But I have lost my good grey steed. She to no stratagems was schooled. While I suspected, yet was fooled. When I have thought a fool was she, I wise, it seems two fools are we. [The Wife comes in.] Wife On foot? Then thy good horse is sold. Found'st thou the man? and gav'st the gold? Farmer He said the way was very long, And he was weary, and not strong: So I gave up my horse that he In Paradise might sooner be: Thus will thy husband have our help And my good horse to ride, himself. Say, wife, have I in this done right? I sought to help thy man's sad plight. Wife Indeed thou hast. My husband, dear, I have not rightly known, I fear. Thy faithful heart. I do not jest: If thou wert dead, indeed my best I then would do to send to thee In Paradise, that thou might'st be Contented there: I would resign Goose, calf and pig, clothes, all our coin, Whatever useful thing was mine. That thou should'st know my faithful heart. How with my treasures I would part, That thus thou mightest have the best, Happy in Paradise to rest. Farmer I trust that here I long may stay. Nor need such help; but, wife, I pray. Of what has happened, nothing say. Wife Through all the village it is known. Farmer Who hath the news so quickly sown? Wife When thou wert gone, most gratefully I told our friends how good to me Thou art, of Paradise, and how My dear old husband is there now; How, by a messenger most wise, I sent him things to Paradise. It seemed that people laughed at me, And took the matter merrily. Farmer The Devil take their pleasantry, That dares to make a scoff of thee! -- Scoff of my wife! Dear God, I pray For patience! -- Hasten, wife, away, And bring a bowl of milk to me. Wife Yes, husband; follow presently. [The Wife goes out.] Farmer Why do I thus complain? My fate Hath given me a fool for mate; But yet a faithful fool. 'Tis true That lack of sense is nothing new; But she is silly past belief, And, for this fault, is no relief: I constantly must hold her rein. And her simplicity restrain; Must bear with her, for e'en today My foot from stirrup slipped away: Who doth the shuttlecock let fall Should not another clumsy call. Better it is I proved a fool, So cannot make a cruel rule, For, in her heart, she is so kind, My own to softness is inclined. Who falls a victim to deceit Should not find fault when others meet The like misfortune; but forgive, That all in peacefulness may live: Kind charity for faulty acts Redeems our own, remarks Hans Sachs.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
237,Count Fiesco's Parrot,Italy,NA,"W. A. Clouston, Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers (London: David Nutt, 1890), p. 115, footnote.","A parrot belonging to Count Fiesco was discovered one day stealing some roast meat from the kitchen. The enraged cook, overtaking him, threw a kettle of boiling water at him, which completely scalded all the feathers from his head, and left the poor bird with a bare poll. Some time afterwards, as Count Fiesco was engaged in conversation with an abbot, the parrot, observing the shaven crown of his reverence, hopped up to him and said: 'What! do you like roast meat too?'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
237,Of the Woman Who Stole Her Husband's Eel,France,NA,"Thomas Wright, The Book of the Knight of La Tour-Landry (London: Published for the Early English Text Society by Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Company, 1868), ch. 16, p. 22.","There was a woman who had a magpie in a cage, and it would tell tales about what it saw people do. It happened that the husband kept a large eel in a little pond in his garden, with the intention of feeding it to friends when they came to visit him. However, once when the husband was out the wife said to her maid, 'Let us eat the large eel, and we will tell my husband that the otter ate it.' When the husband came home the magpie told him how the wife had eaten the eel. He went to the pond, but could not find the eel. He then asked his wife what had become of the eel. She tried to make an excuse for herself, but he said, 'Don't make excuses, because I know that you have eaten it, for the magpie told me so.' Then he scolded his wife severely for eating the eel. After the husband left the wife and her maid went to the magpie and plucked out all the feathers on its head, saying, 'This is for telling on us about the eel.' Thus the poor magpie had its head-feathers plucked out. From that time forth whenever the magie saw a bald man, or a woman with a high forehead, it would say, 'You must have told about the eel.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
237,The Indiscrete Magpie,Switzerland,"Petzold's source: Ritter vom Turn, Von den Exempeln der Gotsforcht und Erberkeit (Basel, 1493). Type 237.","Retold from Leander Petzold, 'Die vorlaute Elster,' Deutsche Schwänke (Stuttgart: Philipp Reclam jun., 1979), no. 18, p. 32.","There was a woman who had a caged magpie that could talk, and it told everything that it saw and whatever anyone did. Now it happened that her husband was saving a fine, large eel in a tub, planning to serve it to a friend for dinner. But one day while he was away, his wife caught the eel, cooked it, and ate it herself. She planned to claim that an otter had stolen the eel, but when her husband came home, her magpie said, 'Master, my mistress ate the eel.' He went to the tub, and not finding the eel, he asked his wife what had happened to it. She started to make an excuse, but he interrupted her, 'I know that you ate it, because the magpie told me so!' And he scolded her with angry words. As soon as the man left, the woman grabbed the magpie and pulled every last feather from its head. 'That's your punishment for telling about the eel,' she said. From that time forth, whenever the magpie saw bald-headed person, it would cry out, 'You too must have told about the eel!' Deutsche Schwänke (Stuttgart: Philipp Reclam jun., 1979), no. 18, p. 32. und Erberkeit (Basel, 1493).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
237,The Parrot,England (Yorkshire),"Link to another version of this tale: Alfred C. Fryer, 'The Grocer and His Parrot,' Book of English Fairy Tales from the North-Country (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein and Company, 1884), pp. 62-67. Type 237.","Sabine Baring-Gould, 'Household Tales,' an appendix to William Henderson, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866), no. 8, pp. 331-32.","There was once a grocer who had a beautiful parrot with green feathers, and it hung in a cage at his shop door. It was a very shrewd, sensible bird, and very observing. But it was a female, and as such could not hold its tongue, but proclaimed aloud all that it knew, announcing to everyone who entered the shop the little circumstances which had fallen under its observation. One day the parrot observed its master sanding the sugar. Presently in came a woman and asked for some brown sugar. 'Sand in the sugar! Sand in the sugar!' vociferated the bird, and the customer pocketed her money and rushed out of the shop. The indignant grocer rushed to the cage and shook it well. 'You abominable bird, if you tell tales again, I will wring your neck!' And again he shook the cage till the poor creature was all ruffled, and a cloud of its feathers was flying about the shop. Next day it saw its master mixing cocoa powder with brick dust. Presently in came a customer for cocoa powder. 'Brick dust in the cocoa!' cried the parrot, eagerly and repeatedly, till the astonished customer believed it, and went away without his cocoa. A repetition of the shaking of the cage ensued, with a warning that such another instance of tale-telling should certainly be punished with death. The parrot made internal resolutions never to speak again. Presently, however, it observed its master making shop butter of lard colored with a little turmeric. In came a lady and asked for butter. 'Nice fresh butter, ma'am, fresh from the dairy,' said the shopman 'Lard in the butter! Lard in the butter!' said the parrot. 'You scoundrel, you!' exclaimed the shopman, rushing at the cage. Opening it, drawing forth the luckless bird, and wringing its neck, he cast it into the ash pit. But Polly was not quite dead, and after lying quiet for a few minutes, she lifted up her head and saw a dead cat in the pit. 'Halloo!' called the parrot. 'What is the matter with you, Tom?' No answer, for the vital spark of heavenly flame had quitted the mortal frame of the poor cat. 'Dead!' sighed the parrot. 'Poor Tom! He too must have been afflicted with the love of truth. Ah me!' She sat up and tried her wings. 'They are sound. Great is truth in my own country, but in this dingy England it is at a discount, and lies are at a premium.' Then spreading her wings, Polly flew away. But whether she ever reached her own land, where truth was regarded with veneration, I have not heard. No, she flew twice round the world in search of it, and could not find it. I wonder whether she has found it now! Henderson, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866), no. 8, pp. 331-32.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
237,The Parrot and the Oilman,Iran,NA,"W. A. Clouston, Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 114-15.","An oilman possessed a fine parrot, who amused him with her prattle and watched his shop during his absence. It chanced one day, when the oilman had gone out, that a cat ran into the shop in chase of a mouse, which so frightened the parrot that she flew about from shelf to shelf, upsetting several jars and spilling their contents. When her master returned and saw the havoc made among his goods he fetched the parrot a blow that knocked out all her head feathers, and from that day she sulked on her perch. The oilman, missing the prattle of his favorite, began to shower his alms on every passing beggar, in hopes that some one would induce the parrot to speak again. At length a bald-headed mendicant came to the shop one day, upon seeing whom, the parrot, breaking her long silence, cried out, 'Poor fellow! Poor fellow! Hast thou, too, upset some oil-jar?'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
243A,A Brahmin Asks Two Parrots to Keep an Eye on His Wife,The Jataka,"Part of the canon of sacred Buddhist literature, this collection of some 550 anecdotes and fables depicts earlier incarnations -- sometimes as an animal, sometimes as a human -- of the Bodhisatta, the being who would become Siddhartha Gautama, the future Buddha. Traditional birth and death dates of Gautama are 563-483 BC. The Jataka tales are dated between 300 BC and 400 AD. In spite of the collection's sacred and didactic nature, it nonetheless includes elements -- obviously derived from ancient folktales -- whose primary function is entertainment. Now called Varanasi, Benares is a city in north central India on the Ganges River. One of the world's oldest cities, Varanasi is the most sacred place for Hindus. Buddhists and Muslims also have important religious sites nearby. According to tradition, Buddha began his teaching at Sarnath a short distance from this city.","The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, vol. 1, translated from the Pali by Robert Chalmers (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1895), no. 145, pp. 309-310.","Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born a parrot. A certain Brahmin in the Kasi country was as a father to him and to his younger brother, treating them like his own children. Potthapada was the Bodhisatta's name, and Radha his brother's. Now the Brahmin had a bold bad wife. And as he was leaving home on business, he said to the two brothers, 'If your mother, my wife, is minded to be naughty, stop her.' 'We will, papa,' said the Bodhisatta, 'if we can; but if we can't, we will hold our peace.' Having thus entrusted his wife to the parrots' charge, the Brahmin set out on his business. Every day thenceforth his wife misconducted herself; there was no end to the stream of her lovers in and out of the house. Moved by the sight, Radha said to the Bodhisatta, 'Brother, the parting injunction of our father was to stop any misconduct on his wife's part, and now she does nothing but misconduct herself. Let us stop her.' 'Brother,' said the Bodhisatta, 'your words are the words of folly. You might carry a woman about in your arms and yet she would not be safe. So do not essay the impossible.' And so saying he uttered this stanza: How many more shall midnight bring? Your plan Is idle. Naught but wifely love could curb Her lust; and wifely love is lacking quite. And for the reasons thus given, the Bodhisatta did not allow his brother to speak to the Brahmin's wife, who continued to gad about to her heart's content during her husband's absence. On his return, the Brahmin asked Potthapada about his wife's conduct, and the Bodhisatta faithfully related all that had taken place. 'Why, father,' he said, 'should you have anything more to do with so wicked a woman?' And he added these words, 'My father, now that I have reported my mother's wickedness, we can dwell here no longer.' So saying, he bowed at the Brahmin's feet and flew away with Kadha to the forest. Part of the canon of sacred Buddhist literature, this collection of some 550 anecdotes and fables depicts earlier incarnations -- sometimes as an animal, sometimes as a human -- of the Bodhisatta, the being who would become Siddhartha Gautama, the future Buddha. Traditional birth and death dates of Gautama are 563-483 BC. The Jataka tales are dated between 300 BC and 400 AD. In spite of the collection's sacred and didactic nature, it nonetheless includes elements -- obviously derived from ancient folktales -- whose primary function is entertainment. Now called Varanasi, Benares is a city in north central India on the Ganges River. One of the world's oldest cities, Varanasi is the most sacred place for Hindus. Buddhists and Muslims also have important religious sites nearby. According to tradition, Buddha began his teaching at Sarnath a short distance from this city.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
243A,How a Parrot Told Tales of His Mistress and Had His Neck Wrung,The Jataka,NA,"The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, vol. 2, translated from the Pali by W. H. D. Rouse (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1895), no. 198, pp. 92-94.","Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into the world as a young parrot. His name was Radha, and his youngest brother was named Potthapada. While they were yet quite young, both of them were caught by a fowler and handed over to a Brahmin in Benares. The Brahmin cared for them as if they were his children. But the Brahmin's wife was a wicked woman. There was no watching her. The husband had to go away on business, and addressed his young parrots thus: 'Little dears, I am going away on business. Keep watch on your mother in season and out of season. Observe whether or not any man visits her.' So off he went, leaving his wife in charge of the young parrots. As soon as he was gone, the woman began to do wrong. Night and day the visitors came and went. There was no end to them. Potthapada, observing this, said to Radha, 'Our master gave this woman into our charge, and here she is doing wickedness. I will speak to her.' 'Don't,' said Radha. But the other would not listen. 'Mother,' said he, 'why do you commit sin?' How she longed to kill him! But making as though she would fondle him, she called him to her. 'Little one, you are my son! I will never do it again! Here, then the dear!' So he came out. Then she seized him, crying, 'What! You preach to me! You don't know your measure!' And she wrung his neck, and threw him into the oven. The Brahmin returned. When he had rested, he asked the Bodhisatta, 'Well, my dear, what about your mother? Does she do wrong, or no?' And as he asked the question, he repeated the first couplet: Radha answered, 'Father dear, the wise speak not of things which do not conduce to blessing, whether they have happened or not.' And he explained this by repeating the second couplet: Thus did the Bodhisatta hold forth to the Brahmin. And he went on, 'This is no place for me to live in either.' Then bidding the Brahmin farewell, he flew away into the woods.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
243A,Of Maintaining Truth to the Last,Gesta Romanorum,"The Gesta Romanorum or Deeds of the Romans was compiled in Latin in the early fourteenth century by an English cleric. It was first published about 1473. Its title notwithstanding, only a few of the work's some 283 stories deal with the Romans. Instead, the collection presents a mixture of anecdotes, legends, and fables, gleaned from many sources and presented in a context appropriate for incorporation into Christian sermons.","Gesta Romanorum, translated by Charles Swan, revised and corrected by Wynnard Hooper (London: George Bell and Sons, 1906), no. 68, pp. 121-22.","In the reign of Gordian, there was a certain noble soldier who had a fair but vicious wife. It happened that her husband having occasion to travel, the lady sent for her gallant. Now, one of her handmaids, it seems, was skillful in interpreting the song of birds; and in the court of the castle there were three cocks. During the night, while the gallant was with his mistress, the first cock began to crow. The lady heard it, and said to her servant, 'Dear friend, what says yonder cock?' She replied, 'That you are grossly injuring your husband.' 'Then,' said the lady, 'kill that cock without delay.' They did so. But soon after, the second cock crew, and the lady repeated her question. 'Madam,' said the handmaid, 'he says, 'My companion died for revealing the truth, and for the same cause, I am prepared to die.'' 'Kill him,' cried the lady, which they did. After this, the third cock crew. 'What says he?' asked she again. 'Hear, see, and say nothing, if you would live in peace.' 'Oh, oh!' said the lady. 'Don't kill him.' And her orders were obeyed. Application My beloved, the emperor is God; the soldier, Christ; and the wife, the soul. The gallant is the devil. The handmaid is conscience. The first cock is our Savior, who was put to death; the second is the martyrs; and the third is a preacher who ought to be earnest in declaring the truth, but, being deterred by menaces, is afraid to utter it. The Gesta Romanorum or Deeds of the Romans was compiled in Latin in the early fourteenth century by an English cleric. It was first published about 1473. Its title notwithstanding, only a few of the work's some 283 stories deal with the Romans. Instead, the collection presents a mixture of anecdotes, legends, and fables, gleaned from many Christian sermons.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
243A,The Three Roosters,Germany/France,"Johannes Pauli was born about 1455 and died after 1530. His Schimpf und Ernst, a collection of 693 humorous anecdotes, was first published in 1522 in Strasbourg (Strassburg), Alsace.","Johannes Pauli, Schimpf und Ernst, selected and revised by Karl Simrock (Heilbronn: Verlag von Gebrüder Henninger, 1876), no. 8, pp. 7-8.","We read about three roosters that crowed in the night while the lady of the house was lying with an adulterer. Now the kitchen maid understood the language of birds. The first night the one rooster crowed, 'My mistress is unfaithful to my master.' The kitchen maid reported this to the lady of the house. The woman said, 'That rooster must die,' and the rooster was broiled. The next night the second rooster sang, and when the kitchen maid was asked about it, she said that the rooster had crowed, 'My companion died for telling the truth.' Then the lady of the house said, 'He too shall die,' and this rooster was immediately broiled. The next time the woman went to bed with her lover, the third rooster crowed, as interpreted by the kitchen maid, 'See, hear, and remain silent, if you want to live in peace.' Audi, vive, tace, Se vis vivere in pace.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1422,Example of the Man and the Woman and the Parrot and Their Maidservant,The Book of Sindibâd,"Sindibâd (also spelled Sindibad, Sendabar, or Syntipas) was a legendary Indian philosopher and writer supposed to have lived around 100 BC. Stories ascribed to him are found in medieval European collections known variously as The Seven Wise Masters or The Seven Sages.","Domenico Comparetti Researches respecting the Book of Sindibâd (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1882), pp. 127-28.","Lord, I have heard that (there was) a man who was jealous of his wife, and he bought a parrot and put it into a cage. And he placed it in his house, and he ordered it to tell him all that his wife should do, and never to conceal anything thereof from him; and afterwards he went away on business of his own. And a friend of hers entered the house where she was. The parrot saw all that they did; and when the good man came home, he sat down, unseen by his wife, and ordered the parrot to be brought, and asked him all that he had seen, and the parrot told him all that he had seen the woman do with her friend. And the good man was very much incensed against his wife, and went no longer into the place where she was (viz., the harem). And the wife believed truly that the maid had told about her. And then she called her and said: 'Thou didst tell my husband all that I did.' And the girl swore that she had not told it, but knew that the parrot had told it. And she [the wife] took it down and began to throw water upon it, just as if it were rain. And she took a mirror in her hand and held it over the cage, and in the other hand [she held] a candle, and she held that over [also]. And the parrot thought that it was lightning. And the wife began to move a grindstone, and the parrot thought that it was thunder. And she occupied herself all night doing this until morning. And after it was morning the husband came and asked the parrot: 'Hast thou seen anything this night?' And the parrot said: 'I could see nothing for the great rain and the thunder and lightning that there were this night.' And the man said: 'Hath what thou hast told me of my wife as much truth as this? There is nothing more lying than thou, and I will order thee to be killed.' And he sent for his wife and pardoned her, and they made peace. And I, Lord, have told thee this example only that thou mayst know the deceit of women; that their arts are very strong, and are many, so that they have no end.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1422,"Story of the Confectioner, His Wife, and the Parrot",1001 Nights,Burton's source: 'The Persian version of the story from the Book of Sindibad.',"The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated by Richard F. Burton, vol. 6 (Printed by the Borton Ethnological Society, for members only, n.d.), pp. 132-33.","This parrot caused abundant trouble to the wife, always telling her husband what took place in his absence. Now one evening, before going out to visit certain friends, the confectioner gave the bird strict injunctions to watch all night and bade his wife make all fast, as he should not return until morning. Hardly had he left the door than the woman went for her old lover, who returned with her and they passed the night together in mirth and merriment, while the parrot observed all. Betimes in the morning the lover fared forth and the husband, returning, was informed by the parrot of what had taken place; whereupon he hastened to his wife's room and beat her with a painful beating. She thought in herself, 'Who could have informed against me?' and she asked a woman that was in her confidence whether it was she. The woman protested by the worlds visible and invisible that she had not betrayed her mistress; but informed her that on the morning of his return home, the husband had stood some time before the cage listening to the parrot's talk. When the wife heard this, she resolved to contrive the destruction of the bird. Some days after, the husband was again invited to the house of a friend where he was to pass the night; and, before departing, he enjoined the parrot with the same injunctions as before; wherefore his heart was free from care, for he had his spy at home. The wife and her confidante then planned how they might destroy the credit of the parrot with the master. For this purpose they resolved to counterfeit a storm; and this they did by placing over the parrot's head a hand-mill (which the lover worked by pouring water upon a piece of hide), by waving a fan and by suddenly uncovering a candle hid under a dish. Thus did they raise such a tempest of rain and lightning, that the parrot was drenched and half-drowned in a deluge. Now rolled the thunder, then flashed the lightning; that from the noise of the hand-mill, this from the reflection of the candle; when thought the parrot to herself, 'In very sooth the flood hath come on, such an one as belike Noah himself never witnessed.' So saying she buried her head under her wing, a prey to terror. The husband, on his return, hastened to the parrot to ask what had happened during his absence; and the bird answered that she found it impossible to describe the deluge and tempest of the last night; and that years would be required to explain the uproar of the hurricane and storm. When the shopkeeper heard the parrot talk of last night's deluge, he said: 'Surely O bird, thou art gone clean daft! Where was there, even in a dream, rain or lightning last night? Thou hast utterly ruined my house and ancient family. My wife is the most virtuous woman of the age and all thine accusations of her are lies.' So in his wrath he dashed the cage upon the ground, tore off the parrot's head, and threw it from the window. Presently his friend, coming to call upon him, saw the parrot in this condition with head torn off, and without wings or plumage. Being informed of the circumstances he suspected some trick on the part of the woman, and said to the husband, 'When your wife leaves home to go to the Hammam-bath, compel her confidante to disclose the secret.' So as soon as his wife went out, the husband entered his harem and insisted on the woman telling him the truth. She recounted the whole story and the husband now bitterly repented having killed the parrot, of whose innocence he had proof.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1422,"The Burgess, His Wife, and the Magpie",Seven Wise Masters,NA,"Roman Stories; or, The History of the Seven Wise Masters of Rome, 33rd edition (Berwick: W. Phorson, 1805), pp. 41-43.","There lived in a certain city of Rome a rich burgess, who had a magpye, which he loved so well, that he taught her to speak, so she might tell him all that she saw and heard. The burgess was married to a young wife, much more beautiful than honest; he loved her very well; but she requitted it with slight and disrespect, and made choice of a gallant in her husband's absence, to gratify her lustful appetite; which the magpye observing, told her master at his coming home; so that the report thereof spread itself through the whole city. Her husband thereupon upbraided her with disloyalty and adultery; to which she said, she was innocent, and that he was to blame to believe his magpye, and that as long as he continued so do there would be nothing but variance and discord betwixt them. But he replied, the pye could not lie, for that she saw and heard what she told him; and therefore he would believe her rather than his wife. It happened not long after, that this burgess travelled abroad, and was no sooner gone, but she sent to advise her friend he should come secretly to her that night, to enjoy her as he was accustomed. Being come, as he entered into the house, he said, 'Dearest, I am afraid the magpye will discover us!' But she bid him not fear, for it was dark, and therefore the pye could not see them. The pye hearing this, said, 'It is true, I see you not, but I can hear you, and know that you are naughty together, which I shall tell my master when he comes home.' At which the lusty young man was startled; but she bid him be of good courage, and she would be revenged on the pye. So they went and lay together till about midnight, at which time the adultress arose, and calling her maid-servant, commanded her to fetch a ladder, which they set up to the roof of the house, and then they made a hole therein, just over the pye, through which they cast down water, gravel, and small stones, and the like; insomuch that the poor pye was almost killed. Upon the burgess's return, he went to visit his pye, asking how she fared in his absence; the pye replied, 'Master I shall satisfy you in both. First I have the old news to tell you, that is, that you are a cuckold; of the very night after your departure, your wife entertained a young man all night in bed with her; notwithstanding, I told them I would inform you thereof. As to my welfare, that very night I had like to have died, it was so tempestuous, either raining, hailing, or snowing all the night.' The wife hearing this, said to her husband, 'You have hitherto believed in the pye; now, she saith, she had like to have died with rain, hail, and snow, that she accused me of adultery whereas, there was never any thing clearer, but my innocency.' The good man, to be satisfied of the truth, enquired of the neighbours, whether that night was fair or foul. Who all affirmed, no night could be fairer. Then going to his wife, he acknowledged the fault of his cruelty, and after that went to the pye, and having railed at her, for sowing discord between man and wife, he wrung her neck off; the wife at the sight thereof was overjoyed; and when he had killed the pye, he looked up and saw a ladder, and a vessel of water, sand, and stones, which made him soon perceive the treachery of his wife; at which he grew so troubled, that for the words of his wife, he had killed the pye, that he sold off all he had, and went on pilgrimage.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1422,The Second Vezir's Story,Turkey (History of the Forty Vezirs),"Footnote by Gibbs: 'A khoja is a master of a household, also a teacher; in the former acceptation it is somewhat equivalent to the old English goodman.'","Sheykh-Zada, The History of the Forty Vezirs; or, The Story of the Forty Morns and Eves, translated by E. J. W. Gibb (London: George Redway, 1886), pp. 33-35.","There was in Hindustan a khoja who had a beautiful wife. That woman had (God forefend the listeners!) a youthful lover. One day the khoja bought a parrot which knew well how to speak; and whenever it would speak, the khoja's heart reaped a hundred thousand joys and delights. One day the khoja went to a certain place and came not that night to his house. Forthwith the woman brought the youth to the house, and that night passed they in fun and frolic, and, joining soul to soul and heart to heart, both reaped their desires. The parrot watched this their secret from the cage, and when it was morning the youth went away and the khoja returned. As soon as it saw the khoja, the parrot said, 'O khoja, this night till morning the lady was with a youth, eating, and drinking, and kissing, and clipping; lo, the youth is gone.' When the khoja heard these words he said to his wife, 'Out on thee, wife! Who is that youth?' The woman replied, 'What manner of speech is this? Dost thou believe the word of a bird and act thereon?' And she fell to chattering and babbling, and convinced the khoja, and gave the lie to the parrot. One day the khoja again went to a certain place, and the woman, according to her wont, got the youth whom she told what the parrot had said to the khoja. The youth said, 'Henceforward there can be no more frolic with thee. This parrot is a hindrance to us, and will make us disgraced before the world.' Quoth the woman, 'My lord, be not dismayed. See what a trick I will play the parrot.' And she ordered the slave-girls and they brought a sieve, an earthenware jar, some water, and a piece of bullock hide. They put the hide over the parrot's cage, and one of the girls struck on it with a stick every now and again, while another sprinkled water through the sieve upon the parrot, and a third put a looking-glass into the jar which ever and anon she opened and closed before the cage. So again the woman and the youth made merry till the morning. When it was morning the youth went away and the khoja came; and as soon as the parrot saw him, it said, 'Khoja, this night the lady and the youth ate and drank and made merry till the morning; but much did the rain rain and the thunder roar and the lightning flash.' Then quoth the lady, 'Dost thou see the parrot's lies? Did the rain rain, or the thunder roar, or the lightning flash this night?' 'Nay,' said the khoja. 'And thou believedst the lie spoken by the bird,' quoth the woman. And the poor khoja's trust was destroyed by this trick; and as often as he went away the woman invited that youth and made merry with him. And the parrot ever said so, but the khoja would not believe, and the woman would make mock of the parrot's words, and split the khoja's head by saying, 'And thou didst libel me on this thing's word!''",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1422,The Tale of the Husband and the Parrot,1001 Nights,"Footnote by Burton: The young 'Turk' is probably a late addition, as it does not appear in many of the MSS., e.g., the Bresl. Edit. The wife usually spreads a cloth over the cage; this in the Turkish translation becomes a piece of leather.","The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated from the Arabic by Richard F. Burton, vol. 1 (London: H. S. Nichols, 1897), pp. 48-50.","Now his fair wife had fallen in love with a young Turk, who used to visit her, and she feasted him by day and lay with him by night. When the man had made his journey and won his wish he came home; and, at once causing the parrot to be brought to him, questioned her concerning the conduct of his consort whilst he was in foreign parts. Quoth she, 'Thy wife hath a man friend who passed every night with her during thine absence.' Thereupon the husband went to his wife in a violent rage, and bashed her with a bashing severe enough to satisfy anybody. The woman, suspecting that one of the slave girls had been tattling to the master, called them together and questioned them upon their oaths, when all swore that they had kept the secret, but that the parrot had not, adding, 'And we heard her with our own ears.' Upon this the woman bade one of the girls set a hand-mill under the cage and grind therewith, and a second to sprinkle water through the cage roof, and a third to run about, right and left, flashing a mirror of bright steel through the livelong night. Next morning, when the husband returned home after being entertained by one of his friends, he bade bring the parrot before him, and asked what had taken place whilst he was away. 'Pardon me, O my master,' quoth the bird, 'I could neither hear nor see aught by reason of the exceeding murk and the thunder and lightning which lasted throughout the night.' As it happened to be the summer-tide the master was astounded and cried, 'But we are now in mid-Tammuz, and this is not the time for rains and storms.' ' Ay, by Allah,' rejoined the bird, 'I saw with these eyes what my tongue hath told thee.' Upon this the man, not knowing the case nor smoking the plot, waxed exceeding wroth; and, holding that his wife had been wrongously accused, put forth his hand and pulling the parrot from her cage dashed her upon the ground with such force that he killed her on the spot. Some days afterwards one of his slave girls confessed to him the whole truth, yet would he not believe it till he saw the young Turk, his wife's lover, coming out of bared his blade and slew him by a blow on the back of the neck; and he did the same by the adulteress , and thus the twain, laden with mortal sin, went straightways to Eternal Fire. Then the merchant knew that the parrot had told him the truth anent all she had seen, and he mourned grievously for her loss when mourning availed him not.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,Jupiter and the Birds,Ambrose Bierce,NA,"Ambrose Bierce Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 179.","Jupiter commanded all the birds to appear before him, so that he might choose the most beautiful to be their king. The ugly jackdaw, collecting all the fine feathers which had fallen from the other birds, attached them to his own body and appeared at the examination, looking very gay. The other birds, recognising their own borrowed plumage, indignantly protested, and began to strip him. 'Hold!' said Jupiter; 'this self-made bird has more sense than any of you. He is your king.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,The Blue Jackal,Tibet,"The Kanjur ('translated word') is a large collection of Buddhist teachings and tales, probably brought to Tibet by Indian refugees in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Depending on the edition, the Kanjur consists of 100, 102, or 108 folio volumes. The Kanjur plus the Tanjur ('translated treatises'), comprise the two parts of the official canon of Tibetan Buddhism.","Tibetan Tales, Derived from Indian Sources, translated from the Tibetan of the Kaygyur [Kanjur] by F. Anton von Schiefner, and from the German into English by W. R. S. Ralston (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1926. no. 36, pp. 336-38.","In times long past there was a very greedy jackal, which used to roam in the forest, and even in places uninhabited by men. At length he made his way into the house of a dyer, and fell into an indigo vat. After he had escaped he lay down to sleep on a neighboring dunghill. Having tossed about thereon, so that his body became ever so unshapely, he jumped into the water. When he had come out, and had been exposed to the rays of the sun, he acquired the color of cyanite. When the other jackals saw him, they dispersed and stood afar off, and asked, 'Who are you? Where do you come from?' He replied, 'My name is Sataga, and I have been appointed king of the four-footed beasts by Sakra, the king of the gods.' The jackals considered that, as his body was of a color never before seen, this must be true, and they made all the four-footed beast acquainted with the fact. The lions thought, 'If someone is exalted above us and made the king of the beasts, we must go and carry this news to the chief of our band.' So they told the news to the maned chief of their band, who dwelt in a certain hill district. He ordered the other beasts to go forth and find out whether any animal had seen this chieftain of the four-footed. So they betook themselves to where the jackal was, and made inquiries. And they perceived the jackal, like unto nothing ever seen before, surrounded by all the four-footed creatures except the lions. Then they returned to their chief and told him what they had seen. and he, when he had listened to them, betook himself, surrounded by the band of lions, to where the jackal was. The jackal, surrounded by many quadrupeds, rode along on an elephant, with the lions around him, and then the tigers and other quadrupeds. The jackals formed a circle round him at a greater distance. Now the jackal's mother dwelt in a certain mountain ravine. Her son sent a jackal to her, and invited her to come, now that he had obtained the sovereign power. She asked what was the nature of his surroundings. The messenger replied, 'The inner circle is formed of lions, tigers, and elephants, but the outer of jackals.' She said, 'So much for things not following their proper order.' She also said in verse: I live here comfortably in the mountain ravine, and amid cool waters enjoy my good fortune. So long as he utters no jackal's cry, the elephant will let him retain his prosperity. The messenger jackal said to the jackals, 'This king of the four-footed is only another jackal. I have seen his mother who dwells in such a such a mountain ravine.' They replied, 'In that case we will test him and see whether he is a jackal or not.' Now it is according to the nature of things that jackals, if they hear a jackal howl without howling themselves, lose their hair. So the jackal, when he heard the other jackals lift up their voices, said to himself, 'If I utter no cry, my hair will certainly fall off. But if I get off the elephant and then begin to howl, he will kill me. So I will lift up my voice where I am.' So soon as, sitting on the elephant, he began to lift up his voice, the elephant perceived that it was a jackal that was riding on his back, so he flung him off and trampled him underfoot. A deity uttered this verse: He who keeps at a distance those who should be near, and brings near those who should be at a distance, will be cast down, as the jackal was by the elephant. from the Tibetan of the Kaygyur [Kanjur] by F. Anton von Schiefner, and from the German into English by W. R. S. Ralston (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1926. no. 36, pp. 336-38. The Kanjur ('translated word') is a large collection of Buddhist teachings and tales, probably brought to Tibet by Indian refugees in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Depending on the edition, the Kanjur consists of 100, 102, or 108 folio volumes. The Kanjur plus the Tanjur ('translated treatises'), comprise the two parts of the official canon of Tibetan Buddhism.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,The Jackal King,Kashmir,"Knowles' source: Makund Báyú, Suthú, Srinagar.","J. Hinton Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir, 2nd ed. (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Company, 1893), pp. 260-61.","Once upon a time the jackals assembled together to elect a king for themselves. The lions had a king. The tigers had a king. The leopards had a king. The wolves had a king. The dogs and other animals had their kings. So they thought that they too ought to appoint one, who should be their chief, who should guide them in counsel and lead them forth to war. 'Elect your king,' cried the old jackal, anxious to begin the meeting. Whereupon all the jackals shouted, 'You are our king! You are our king! You are our senior in age and superior in experience. Who is there so fit as yourself to rule over us?' And the old jackal consented, and by way of distinction allowed his fur to be dyed blue, and an old broken winnowing fan to be fastened round his neck. One day the king was walking about his dominions attended by a large number of his jackal subjects, when a tiger suddenly appeared and made a rush at them. The whole company fled and forgot their old king. His majesty tried to escape into a narrow cave, but alas, his head stuck in the hole, by reason of the winnowing fan that was around his neck. Seeing their leader thus, the tiger came and seized him and carried him away to his lair, where it fastened him by a rope so that he could not run away. In a short while, however, the jackal king did escape and get back to his subjects, who again wished him to be their king and to reign over them. But the jackal had had enough of it, and therefore replied, 'No thank you. I am quite satisfied. Once being a king is quite sufficient for a man's lifetime. (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Company, 1893), pp. 260-61.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,The Jackdaw and the Pigeons,Aesop,The jackdaw is a small black and gray bird related to the crow.,"Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann; New York: Doubleday, Page and Company, 1916), pp. 58-59.","A jackdaw, watching some pigeons in a farmyard, was filled with envy when he saw how well they were fed, and determined to disguise himself as one of them, in order to secure a share of the good things they enjoyed. So he painted himself white from head to foot and joined the flock. And, so long as he was silent, they never suspected that he was not a pigeon like themselves. But one day he was unwise enough to start chattering, when they at once saw through his disguise and pecked him so unmercifully that he was glad to escape and join his own kind again. But the other jackdaws did not recognize him in his white dress, and would not let him feed with them, but drove him away. And so he became a homeless wanderer for his pains.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,The Jay and the Peacock,Aesop,NA,"The Fables of Æsop, selected, told anew, and their history traced by Joseph Jacobs (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), no. 21, p. 55.","A jay venturing into a yard where peacocks used to walk, found there a number of feathers which had fallen from the peacocks when they were molting. He tied them all to his tail and strutted down towards the peacocks. When he came near them they soon discovered the cheat, and striding up to him pecked at him and plucked away his borrowed plumes. So the jay could do no better than go back to the other jays, who had watched his behavior from a distance. But they were equally annoyed with him, and told him, 'It is not only fine feathers that make fine birds.' their history traced by Joseph Jacobs (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894),",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,The Jay in the Feathers of the Peacock,Jean de La Fontaine,"Link to the text of this fable in French: 'Le geai paré des plumes du paon,' Fables de La Fontaine (Tours: Alfred Mam et Fils, 1864), livre 4, fable 9 p. 129-30.","Jean de La Fontaine (1621-95), The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 4, fable 9, p. 83.","A peacock moulted: soon a jay was seen Bedeck'd with Argus tail of gold and green, High strutting, with elated crest, As much a peacock as the rest. His trick was recognized and bruited, His person jeer'd at, hiss'd, and hooted. The peacock gentry flock'd together, And pluck'd the fool of every feather. Nay more, when back he sneak'd to join his race, They shut their portals in his face. There is another sort of jay, The number of its legs the same, Which makes of borrow'd plumes display, And plagiary is its name. But hush! the tribe I'll not offend; 'Tis not my work their ways to mend.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,The Painted Jackal (Dracott),India,NA,"Alice Elizabeth Dracott, Simla Village Tales; or, Folk Tales from the Himalayas (London: John Murray, 1906), pp. 198-99.","One day, in visiting the house of a dyer, it put its head into a deep vessel containing blue dye, and, finding the mixture was not good to eat, tried to get its head out again, but could not do so for some time. When at last it managed to escape, its head was dyed a beautiful dark blue color. He ran away into the jungles, glad to escape, and unconscious of his strange appearance; but the other animals in the jungle thought some new animal had come, and were quite charmed, so that they created him their king. They divided up all the wild creatures, and put their new king next to the jackals, so that when they cried out at nights, he cried too, and nobody found out that he was only a jackal. But one day some young jackals made him angry, so he turned them out and ordered the wolves and foxes to remain nearest to him. That night, when he began to cry and howl, it was at once discovered that he was only a jackal; so all the animals ran at him, bit him, and turned him out.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,The Painted Jackal (Pakistan),Pakistan,NA,"Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 60. p. 245.","A prowling jackal once fell into a large vessel full of dye. When he returned home all his astonished friends said, 'What has befallen you?' He answered, with a curl of his tail, 'Was there ever anything in the world so fine as I am? Look at me! Let no one ever presume to call me jackal again.' 'What, then, are you to be called?' asked they. ''Peacock. You will henceforth call me peacock,' replied the jackal, strutting up and down in all the glory of sky-blue. 'But,' said his friends, 'a peacock can spread his tail magnificently. Can you spread your tail?' 'Well, no, I cannot quite do that,' replied the jackal. 'And a peacock,' continued they, 'can make a fine melodious cry. Can you make a fine melodious cry?' 'It must be admitted,' said the pretender, 'that I cannot do that either.' 'Then,' retorted they, 'it is quite evident that if you are not a jackal, neither are you a peacock.' And they drove him out of their company.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
244,The Vain Jackdaw,Aesop,The jackdaw is a small black and gray bird related to the crow.,"Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann; New York: Doubleday, Page and Company, 1916), pp. 68-69.","Jupiter announced that he intended to appoint a king over the birds, and named a day on which they were to appear before his throne, when he would select the most beautiful of them all to be their ruler. Wishing to look their best on the occasion they repaired to the banks of a stream, where they busied themselves in washing and preening their feathers. The jackdaw was there along with the rest, and realized that, with his ugly plumage, he would have no chance of being chosen as he was. So he waited till they were all gone, and then picked up the most gaudy of the feathers they had dropped, and fastened them about his own body, with the result that he looked gayer than any of them. When the appointed day came, the birds assembled before Jupiter's throne; and, after passing them in review, he was about to make the jackdaw king, when all the rest set upon the king-elect, stripped him of his borrowed plumes, and exposed him for the jackdaw that he was.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1,How Brother Fox Was Too Smart,Joel Chandler Harris,"Note that in traditional Indo-European versions of this tale the trickster fox succeeds in stealing goods from the man by playing dead. In the above African-American variant recorded by Joel Chandler Harris, the wily fox ends up tricking only himself. In most of Harris's tales it is the ostensibly gentle rabbit and not the carnivorous fox who is the successful trickster.","Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1883), no. 4, pp. 17-21.","One day Brer Fox heard Mr. Man coming down the big road in a one-horse wagon carrying some chickens and some eggs and some butter to town. Brer Fox heard him coming, he did, and what did he do but go and lay down in the road in front of the wagon. Mr. Man, he drove along, he did, clucking to the horse and humming to himself, and when they got almost up to Brer Fox, the horse, he shied, he did, and Mr. Man, he took and hollered 'whoa!' and the horse, he took and whoaed. Then Mr. Man, he looked down, and he saw Brer Fox lying out there on the ground, just like he was cold and stiff, and when Mr. Man saw this, he hollered out, 'Heyo! There's the chap that's been nabbing up my chickens, and somebody's done gone and shot off a gun at him, which I wish it had been two guns -- that I do!' With that Mr. Man drove off and left Brer Fox lying there. Then Brer Fox, he got up and ran around through the woods and lay down in front of Mr. Man again, and Mr. Man came driving along, and he saw Brer Fox, and he said, 'Heyo! You're the very chap that's been destroying my pigs. Somebody's done gone and killed him, and I wish they'd have killed him a long time ago.' Then Mr. Man, he drove on, and the wagon wheel came mighty near mashing Brer Fox's nose. Yet, all the same, Brer Fox leaped up and ran around ahead of Mr. Man and lay down in the road, and when Mr. Man came along, there he was all stretched out like he was big enough to fill a two-bushel basket, and he looked like he was dead enough to be skinned. Mr. Man drove up, he did, and stopped. He looked down upon Brer Fox, and then he looked all around to see what the occasion was and why the fox was dead. Mr. Man looked all around, he did, but he didn't see anything, and neither did he hear anything. He sat there and studied, and by and by he decided to see what had got into the fox family, and with that he got down out of the wagon, and he felt Brer Fox's ears. Brer Fox's ears felt right warm. Then he felt Brer Fox's neck. Brer Fox's neck felt right warm. Then he felt Brer Fox's short ribs. Brer Fox's short ribs were sound. Then he felt Brer Fox's limbs. Brer Fox's limbs were sound. Then he turned Brer Fox over, and lo and behold, Brer Fox was right limber. When Mr. Man saw this, he said to himself, 'Heyo, here! How come? This here chicken nabber looks like he's dead, but no bones are broken, and I can't see any blood, and neither can I see any bruises; and more than that, he is warm and limber. Something is wrong here for sure! This here pig grabber might be dead, and then again, he might not be. Just to make sure that he is, I'll give him a whack with my whip handle.' And with that, Mr. Man drew back and fetched Brer Fox a clip behind the ears -- pow! -- and the lick came so hard and it came so quick that Brer Fox thought for sure that he was a goner. But before Mr. Man could draw back and fetch him another wipe, Brer Fox scrambled to his feet, he did, and did he make tracks away from there.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1,Mantharaka's,The Panchatantra,"I have used the following edition: Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen. Aus dem Sanskrit übersetzt mit Einleitung und Anmerkungen von Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), vol. 2, pp. 204-207. India's most influential contribution to world literature, The Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes The Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of The Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.","Abstracted from The Panchatantra, book 2, story 5. This is but one episode in a long story constructed of many interwoven fables.","There were once four friends, a deer named Citrânga (having a spotted body), a crow named Laghupatanaka (flying fast), a turtle named Mantharaka (moving slow), and a mouse named Hiranyaka (golden colored). One day a hunter captured the turtle, tied him to his bow with strands of grass, then set off toward home carrying his evening meal over his shoulder. Learning of their companion's capture, the three remaining friends quickly devised a scheme to set him free. The deer ran ahead of the hunter and laid himself in the path, pretending to be dead. The crow made the feigned death appear even more real by pecking lightly at the deer's head. The mouse hid himself beside the pathway and readied himself to gnaw away his captured friend's bonds. The scheme worked as planned. The hunter, bearing the captured turtle, saw the deer, apparently dead by the side of the pathway. Setting down his burden to free his hands, he advanced toward his unexpected find. As the hunter neared his prey, not only did the crow fly away, but the deer itself suddenly jumped up and bounded into the forest. Cursing his bad luck, the hunter retraced his steps to reclaim the captive turtle, but he found only the gnawed-off bonds. Mantharaka had disappeared into a nearby swamp. And thus were the four forest friends reunited.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1,"Mr. Fox Goes a-Hunting, but Mr. Rabbit Bags the Game",Joel Chandler Harris,"This tale, like The Fox from Palestine, reproduced below, combines elements of Aarne-Thompson-Uther types 1 and 1525D. Type 1 tales emphasize a trickster's playing dead in order to accomplish a theft. In traditional tales of type 1525D the trickster leaves two boots on a trail at some distance from each other. A traveler sees the first boot, bemoans the fact that it has no mate, and tosses it aside. Upon discovering the second boot, he sets down what he is carrying and returns for the first boot. The trickster picks up the goods left behind by the traveler and disappears.","Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings: The Folk-Lore of the Old Plantation (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1881), no. 15, pp. 70-72. First published in 1880.","One day Brer Fox came along all rigged out and asked Brer Rabbit to go hunting with him, but Brer Rabbit, he sort of felt lazy, and he told Brer Fox that he had some other fish to fry. Brer Fox felt might sorry, he did, but he said he believed he would try his hand anyhow, and off he went. He was gone all day, and he had a monstrous streak of luck, Brer Fox did, and he bagged a sight of game. By and by, towards the shank of evening, Brer Rabbit sort of stretched himself, he did, and allowed that it was almost time for Brer Fox to be getting along home. Then Brer Rabbit, he went and mounted a stump to see if he could hear Brer Fox coming. He hadn't been there long when sure enough here came Brer Fox through the woods singing like a Negro at a frolic. Brer Rabbit, he leapt down off the stump, he did, and lay down in the road and made like he was dead. Brer Fox, he came along, he did, and saw Brer Rabbit lying there. He turned him over, he did, and examined him, and he said, 'This here rabbit is dead. He looks like he's been dead a long time. He's dead, but he's mighty fat. He is the fattest rabbit that I ever saw, but he's been dead too long. I am afraid to take him home,' he said. Brer Rabbit didn't say anything. Brer Fox, he sort of licked his chops, but he went on and left Brer Rabbit lying in the road. Directly he was out of sight, Brer Rabbit, he jumped up, he did, and ran around through the woods and got in front of Brer Fox again. Brer Fox, he came up and there lay Brer Rabbit, apparently cold and stiff. Brer Fox, he looked at Brer Rabbit, and he sort of studied. After a while he unslung his game bag, and he said to himself, 'This here rabbit is going to waste. I'll just leave my game here, and I'll go back and get that other rabbit, and I'll make folks believe that I'm Old Man Hunter from Huntsville,' he said. With that he dropped his game and loped back up the road after the other rabbit, and when he was out of sight, old Brer Rabbit, he snatched up Brer Fox's game and put out for home. The next time he saw Brer Fox he hollered out, 'What did you kill the other day?' he said. Then Brer Fox, he sort of combed his flank with his tongue, and hollered back, 'I caught a handful of hard sense, Brer Rabbit,' he said. Then old Brer Rabbit, he laughed, he did, and up and responded, 'If I'd have known you were after that, Brer Fox, I'd have loaned you some of mine,' he said.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1,Playing Dead Twice in the Road,"Virginia, USA",NA,"A. M. Bacon and E. C. Parsons, 'Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 35, no. 137 (July-September, 1922), pp. 275-76.","Version A Once a rabbit and wolf went out one day to catch some fish. The wolf caught all the fish, and the rabbit didn't catch any. So the rabbit said to himself, 'I am going home to my wife.' Then he said to the wolf, 'Brer Wolf, you have caught all the fish, and I have not caught any; and tomorrow morning your wife will be eating fish, and mine will be qu'rrling.' 'I don't care,' said Brer Wolf. 'Please give me some fish for my wife!' ' I'll not, Brer Rabbit.' Then Brer Rabbit said to himself, 'Never mind! I will go and lie in the road where Brer Wolf has got to come along.' Brer Rabbit went and laid in the middle of the road. The wolf came along with his basket of fish. The old rabbit pretended to be dead. Brer Wolf kicked him over, and said, 'Ha! here is an old dead rabbit,' and passed on. The rabbit went under the hill and got in the road again, and lay in the road as if he was dead. The old wolf came on and kicked him over, and said, 'Ha! here is another dead rabbit,' and passed on. Brer Rabbit went around him and got into the road again. When Brer Wolf came along to this dead rabbit, he set his basket of fish down, and went back to get the first rabbit; and then the rabbit got his basket of fish. Version B A rabbit once said to a fox, 'Let us go fishing!' 'All right!' said the fox. The fox took the basket and went in the boat; while the rabbit sat upon the hill and played the violin, which she said would make the fish bite. When she saw that the fox had his basket full of fish, she ran down the path some distance, feigning to be dead. When the fox came along and saw her, he wondered, but passed on. After the fox had passed some way, the rabbit jumped up and ran through the bushes, heading the fox, and lay down in the road as before. And the rabbit did this way the third time; and when the fox found the third dead rabbit, he said that he would go back and count them. He put his fish down by this last dead rabbit, and went back to count; but when he returned, he had found no dead rabbits and his fish were gone; for, when he turned his back, the rabbit got up and took the basket of fish away. Version C Near St. Louis there lived a bear who loved to go a-fishing. Once he fished all day in the Mississippi River. A cunning little hare thought of a trick to play on the bear to rob him of his nice string of fish. He ran around in front of the bear, and lay down across his path as if he was dead. The bear kicked him, and, seeing he was stiff, jumped over him. The hare got up and ran around the bear, and lay down across his path again. 'There lays another old dead hare,' said the bear. The hare jumped up and ran around a third time, and lay down across the bear's path. 'What a nice meal I should have if I had those two which are left behind!' said the bear. He laid down his fish and went back to get them. He could not find them; and when he hurried back to get his fish, there was no trace of them, nor of the hare which he had left with the fish. Version D Once a fox heard a rabbit had outwitted a wolf. He decided not to be friends to her any more. But Mis' Rabbit came and begged his pardon, and it was granted. Mr. Fox offered to go hunting with Mis' Rabbit; but the rabbit was lazy and played off sick, and stayed at Mr. Fox's house till he was very near ready to come back. Then she ran way down the road, and curled up and played off dead. Brer Fox came 'long and looked at her; but he thought probably she had been dead too long, so he passed on. As soon as Brer Fox was out of sight, Mis' Rabbit jumped up and ran through the field and got ahead of him, and laid down again to fake Mr. Fox. This time he looked at her and he looked into his bag. His bag was large enough to accommodate one or two more, so he put Mis' Rabbit in, and put his bag in the grass, and went back to get the other rabbit. Before he was around the corner Mis' Rabbit jumped up and ran home with Mr. Fox's game. So Mr. Fox found no game when he returned. But one day Mis' Rabbit was walking along, and she asked Mr. Fox what he killed. He said he killed a lot of game, but he had learned a headful of har' sense. She laughed and went on.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1,Reynard Steals Fish,Joseph Jacobs,"Jacobs, following a well established and ancient tradition, incorporates the above episode into a larger story featuring the trickster fox and his various gullible victims. The next episode, in keeping with tradition, tells how the fox uses his stolen fish to trick the bear into attempting to angle a similar catch by placing his tail into an ice hole (Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 2). The full account is titled 'Reynard and Bruin' (pp. 42-50).","European Folk and Fairy Tales, restored and retold by Joseph Jacobs (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), p. 44.","Reynard saw a man driving a cart full of fish, which made his mouth water. So he ran and he ran and he ran till he got far away in front of the cart and lay down in the road as still as if he were dead. When the man came up to him and saw him lying there dead, as he thought, he said to himself, 'Why, that will make a beautiful red fox scarf and muff for my wife Ann.' And he got down and seized hold of Reynard and threw him into the cart all along with the fish, and then he went driving on as before. Reynard began to throw the fish out till there were none left, and then he jumped out himself without the man noticing it, who drove up to his door and called out, 'Ann, Ann, see what I have brought you.' And when his wife came to the door she looked into the cart and said, 'Why there is nothing there.' Joseph Jacobs (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), p. 44. Jacobs, following a well established and ancient tradition, incorporates the above episode into a larger story featuring the trickster fox and his various gullible victims. The next episode, in keeping with tradition, tells how the fox uses his stolen fish to trick the bear into attempting to angle a similar catch by placing his tail into an ice hole (Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 2). The full account is titled 'Reynard and Bruin' (pp. 42-50).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1,The Fox,Palestine,"This tale, like Joel Chandler Harris's Mr. Fox Goes a-Hunting, but Mr. Rabbit Bags the Game, reproduced above, combines elements of Aarne-Thompson-Uther types 1 and 1525D. Type 1 tales emphasize a trickster's playing dead in order to accomplish a theft. In traditional tales of type 1525D the trickster leaves two boots on a trail at some distance from each other. A traveler sees the first boot, bemoans the fact that it has no mate, and tosses it aside. Upon discovering the second boot, he sets down what he is carrying and returns for the first boot. The trickster picks up the goods left behind by the traveler and disappears.","J. E. Hanauer, Folk-Lore of the Holy Land: Moslem, Christian and Jewish, edited by Marmaduke Pickthall (London: Duckworth and Company, 1907), pp. 273-74.","The fox is the most crafty and cunning of beasts. His tricks and wiles are innumerable. If there are partridges about, he notices the direction in which they will be likely to run, and then he runs ahead of them and lies down as if dead, foaming at the mouth. When the birds come to the spot, they think him dead, and peck at him. They dip their bills in the saliva running from his mouth, and then he snaps at and catches them. He one day played a similar trick on a peasant woman who was carrying a basketful of live fowls to market. Seeing the way she was going, he ran ahead and lay down as above described. When passing the spot she saw him, but did not think it worth her while to stop and skin him. As soon as she was out of sight the fox jumped up and, making a detour, again ran ahead of her and lay down a second time in the road at a point she would have to pass. She was surprised to see him, and said to herself, 'Has a pestilence broken out amongst foxes? Had I skinned the first I saw lying by the roadside it would have been worth my while to stop for this one, but as I did not do so then, I shall not do so now.' She went on her way, and her surprise was unbounded when, after a while, she noticed what she believed to be a third fox dead on the roadside. 'Verily I have done wrong,' thought she, 'to neglect the good things Allah has placed in my way. I shall leave my fowls here and secure the pelts of the first two before the others take them.' No sooner said than done; but before she had time to return wondering, but empty-handed, the cunning fox had secured his prey and departed. Christian and Jewish, edited by Marmaduke Pickthall (London: Duckworth and Company, 1907), pp. 273-74. This tale, like Joel Chandler Harris's Mr. Fox Goes a-Hunting, but Mr. Rabbit Bags the Game, reproduced above, combines elements of Aarne-Thompson-Uther types 1 and 1525D. Type 1 tales emphasize a trickster's playing dead in order to accomplish a theft. In traditional tales of type 1525D the trickster leaves two boots on a trail at some distance from each other. A traveler sees the first boot, bemoans the fact that it has no mate, and tosses it aside. Upon discovering the second boot, he sets down what he is carrying and returns for the first boot. The trickster picks up the goods left behind by the traveler and disappears.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1,The Fox and the Lapp,Andrew Lang,"Lang identifies his source only as a book entitled Lappländische Mährchen. This tale, like the preceding version, follows the tradition of incorporating the fish episode into a larger story featuring the trickster fox and his various gullible victims. Here too the episode that follows tells how the fox uses his newly stolen fish to trick the bear into attempting to angle a similar catch by placing his tail into an ice hole (Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 2). Lapland extends across northern Norway, Sweden, Finland, and northwestern Russia. The Lapps (or Sami, as they prefer to be called) have inhabited this region -- most of which lies above the Arctic Circle -- for several thousand years.","Andrew Lang, The Brown Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1904), pp. 245-246.","Once upon a time a fox lay peeping out of his hole, watching the road that ran by at a little distance, and hoping to see something that might amuse him, for he was feeling very dull and rather cross. For a long while he watched in vain; everything seemed asleep, and not even a bird stirred overhead. The fox grew crosser than ever, and he was just turning away in disgust from his place when he heard the sound of feet coming over the snow. He crouched eagerly down at the edge of the road and said to himself, 'I wonder what would happen if I were to pretend to be dead! This is a man driving a reindeer sledge; I know the tinkling of the harness. And at any rate I shall have an adventure, and that is always something!' So he stretched himself out by the side of the road, carefully choosing a spot where the driver could not help seeing him, yet where the reindeer would not tread on him; and all fell out just as he had expected. The sledge driver pulled up sharply, as his eyes lighted on the beautiful animal lying stiffly beside him, and jumping out he threw the fox into the bottom of the sledge, where the goods he was carrying were bound tightly together by ropes. The fox did not move a muscle though his bones were sore from the fall, and the driver got back to his seat again and drove on merrily. But before they had gone very far, the fox, who was near the edge, contrived to slip over, and when the Laplander saw him stretched out on the snow he pulled up his reindeer and put the fox into one of the other sledges that was fastened behind, for it was market day at the nearest town, and the man had much to sell. They drove on a little further, when some noise in the forest made the man turn his head, just in time to see the fox fall with a heavy thump onto the frozen snow. 'That beast is bewitched!' he said to himself, and then he threw the fox into the last sledge of all, which had a cargo of fishes. This was exactly what the cunning creature wanted, and he wriggled gently to the front and bit the cord which tied the sledge to the one before it so that it remained standing in the middle of the road. Now there were so many sledges that the Lapp did not notice for a long while that one was missing. Indeed, he would have entered the town without knowing if snow had not suddenly begun to fall. Then he got down to secure more firmly the cloths that kept his goods dry, and going to the end of the long row, discovered that the sledge containing the fish and the fox was missing. He quickly unharnessed one of his reindeer and rode back along the way he had come, to find the sledge standing safe in the middle of the road; but as the fox had bitten off the cord close to the noose there was no means of moving it away. The fox meanwhile was enjoying himself mightily. As soon as he had loosened the sledge, he had taken his favorite fish from among the piles neatly arranged for sale, and had trotted off to the forest with it in his mouth. Green, and Company, 1904), pp. 245-246. Lappländische Mährchen. This tale, like the preceding version, follows the tradition of incorporating the fish episode into a larger story featuring the trickster fox and his various gullible victims. Here too the episode that follows tells how the fox uses his newly stolen fish to trick the bear into (Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 2). Lapland extends across northern Norway, Sweden, Finland, and northwestern Russia. The Lapps (or Sami, as they prefer to be called) have inhabited this region -- most of which lies above the Arctic Circle -- for several thousand years.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1,Two Foxes Steal Herrings,Scotland,"Campbell's source: John Mackinnon, a stable boy at Broadford in Skye. Campbell does not give this tale a title.","J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands (London: Alexander Gardner, 1890), vol. 1, p. 286.","A man was one day walking along the road with a creel of herrings on his back, and two foxes saw him, and the one, who was the biggest, said to the other, 'Stop here and follow the man, and I will run round and pretend that I am dead.' So he ran round and stretched himself on the road. The man came on, and when he saw the fox, he was well pleased to find so fine a beast, and he picked him up and threw him into the creel, and he walked on. But the fox threw the herrings out of the creel, and the other followed and picked them up. And when the creel was empty, the big fox leaped out and ran away. And that is how they got the herrings. (London: Alexander Gardner, 1890), vol. 1, p. 286. Skye.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1592B,Nasreddin Hodja Borrows a Cauldron,Turkey,"Nasreddin Hodja is Turkey's (and perhaps all of Islam's) best-known trickster. His legendary wit and droll trickery were possibly based on the exploits and words of a historical imam. Nasreddin reputedly was born in 1208 in the village of Horto near Sivrihisar. In 1237 he moved to Aksehir, where he died in the Islamic year 683 (1284 or 1285). The many spelling variations for Nasreddin include: Nasreddin, Nasrettin, Nasrudin, Nasr-id-deen, Nasr-eddin, Nasirud-din, Nasr-ud-Din, Nasr-Eddin, and Nasr-Ed-Dine. The many spelling variations for Hodja (a title meaning teacher or scholar) include: Hodja, Hodscha, Hoca, Chotza, Cogia, Khodja, and Khoja.","Retold from various Turkish sources, including Allan Ramsay and Francis McCullagh, Tales from Turkey (London: Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, and Kent, 1914).","Nasreddin Hodja, having need for a large cooking container, borrowed his neighbor's copper cauldron, then returned it in a timely manner. 'What is this?' asked his neighbor upon examining the returned cauldron. 'There is a small pot inside my cauldron.' 'Oh,' responded the Hodja. 'While it was in my care your cauldron gave birth to a little one. Because you are the owner of the mother cauldron, it is only right that you should keep its baby. And in any event, it would not be right to separate the child from its mother at such a young age.' The neighbor, thinking that the Hodja had gone quite mad, did not argue. Whatever had caused the crazy man to come up with this explanation, the neighbor had a nice little pot, and it had cost him nothing. Some time later the Hodja asked to borrow the cauldron again. 'Why not?' thought the neighbor to himself. 'Perhaps there will be another little pot inside when he returns it.' But this time the Hodja did not return the cauldron. After many days had passed, the neighbor went to the Hodja and asked for the return of the borrowed cauldron. 'My dear friend,' replied the Hodja. 'I have bad news. Your cauldron has died, and is now in her grave.' 'What are you saying?' shouted the neighbor. A cauldron does not live, and it cannot die. Return it to me at once!' 'One moment!' answered the Hodja. 'This is the same cauldron that but a short time ago gave birth to a child, a child that is still in your possession. If a cauldron can give birth to a child, then it also can die.' And the neighbor never again saw his cauldron. Tales from Turkey (London: Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, and Kent, 1914). Nasreddin Hodja is Turkey's (and perhaps all of Islam's) best-known trickster. His legendary wit and droll trickery were possibly based on the exploits and words of a historical imam. Nasreddin reputedly was born in 1208 in the village of Horto near Sivrihisar. In 1237 he moved to Aksehir, where he died in the Islamic year 683 (1284 or 1285). Nasrettin, Nasrudin, Nasr-id-deen, Nasr-eddin, Nasirud-din, Nasr-ud-Din, Nasr-Eddin, and Nasr-Ed-Dine. scholar) include: Hodja, Hodscha, Hoca, Chotza, Cogia, Khodja, and Khoja.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1592B,The Cauldron That Died,Palestine,NA,"J. E. Hanauer, Folk-Lore of the Holy Land: Moslem, Christian, and Jewish, edited by Marmaduke Pickthall (London: Duckworth and Company, 1907), pp. 86-87.","One day Johha borrowed a large tanjera, or copper saucepan, from a neighbor for domestic use. Next day he returned it together with a very small but quite new one. 'What is this?' asked the surprised owner. 'Your tanjera gave birth to a young one during the night,' replied the jester, and, in spite of the incredulity of the other man, maintained his assertion, refusing to take back the smaller tanjera, on the ground that the young belonged to the parent and the parent's owner. Besides, it was cruel to separate so young a child from its mother. After a deal of protestation, the neighbor, believing him mad, resolved to humor him, and took the small tanjera, greatly wondering at the jester's whim. Its point was revealed to his chagrin some days later, when Johha came and borrowed a large and valuable copper dist, or cauldron. This he did not return, but carried it off to another town, where he sold it. When its owner sent to Johha to reclaim it, the knave said that he regretted his inability to send it back, but the utensil had unfortunately died and been devoured by hyenas. 'What!' exclaimed the owner angrily. 'Do you think me fool enough to believe that?' 'Well, my friend,' was the reply, 'wonderful things sometimes happen. You allowed yourself to be persuaded that your tanjera, for instance, gave birth to a young one. Why, then, should you not believe that your dist, which is simply a grown-up tanjera, should die?' In the circumstances, the argument seemed unanswerable, especially when, after searching through Johha's house, the cauldron could not be found. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1592B,The Cogia Borrowed a Cauldron,Turkey,NA,"George Borrow, The Turkish Jester; or, The Pleasantries of Cogia Nasr Eddin Effendi, translated from the Turkish (Ipswich: W. Webber, 1884), p. 11.","The owner seeing a little saucepan in the cauldron, said, 'What is this ?' 'Why,' cried the Cogia, 'the cauldron has borne a child;' whereupon the owner took possession of the saucepan. One day the Cogia asked again for the cauldron, and having obtained it, carried it home. The owner of the cauldron waited one day and even five days for his utensil, but no cauldron coming, he went to the house of the Cogia and knocked at the door. The Cogia, coming to the door, said, 'What do you want?' 'The cauldron,' said the man. 'O set your heart at rest,' said the Cogia. 'The cauldron is dead.' 'O Cogia,' said the man, 'can a cauldron die?' 'O,' said the Cogia, 'as you believed it could bear a child, why should you not believe that it can die? '",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
704,The Most Sensitive Woman,Italy,"This story is from South Tyrol, an alpine region in northern Italy but with historical and cultural ties to Austria. The story's final sentence, claiming that the storyteller has run out yarn, is wonderfully ambiguous, referring both to yarn as a raw material for storytelling and as the product of a principal activity of traditional European storytellers: spinning.","Christian Schneller, 'Die Empfindlichste' (La più delicata), Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 45, pp. 128-29. (Links open in new windows.)","The parents of a prince wanted him to marry, but he said, 'I will marry only such a woman about whom I can say with good conscience that she is the most sensitive woman in the world.' His parents answered, 'Then go and find her!' He went forth and came to a woman whose head was all bandaged up and who appeared to be suffering. 'What is the matter with you?' he asked. 'Oh,' she said, 'this morning my maid was combing my hair, and she pulled one out, which is causing me great pain.' But the prince thought to himself, 'She isn't the right one. I will seek further.' He went on his way and found another woman. Her entire body was wrapped with the finest linen, and she looked very sad. 'What is the matter with you?' he asked. 'Oh,' she said, 'last night while I was in bed there was a little wrinkle in the sheet I was lying on, and it has made me sick.' But the prince thought, 'She is not the most sensitive one either. There must be a better one.' He continued on his way and came to a third woman. She was sitting in an easy chair and had a bandaged foot. She was crying bright tears and was distorting her pretty face until one had to feel sorry for her. 'What is the matter with you?' asked the prince. 'Oh,' she groaned, 'this morning while I was strolling in the garden a little breeze came up and blew the petal of a jasmine blossom onto my foot.' The prince thought about this a little while, and then said, 'You are the right one, for there cannot be a more sensitive woman than you!' And he married her. Did he do the right thing? Unfortunately the storyteller does not know, for she has run out of yarn. delicata), Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 45, pp. 128-29. (Links open in new windows.) with historical and cultural ties to Austria. The story's final sentence, claiming that the storyteller has run out yarn, is wonderfully ambiguous, referring both to yarn as a raw material for storytelling and as the product of a principal activity of traditional European storytellers: spinning.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
704,The Princess on the Pea,Denmark,"The final sentence, 'Now see, that was a real story!' draws attention to the tale's self-conscious fictitiousness. Note that the following story uses a similar device as a concluding statement.","Hans Christian Andersen, Prinsessen på ærten (1835).","Once upon a time there was a prince who wanted to find a princess, but she would have to be a real princess. So he traveled all around the world to find one, but there was always something wrong. There were princesses enough, but he could never be sure that they were real ones. There was always something about them that was not quite right. So he came home again and was sad, for he so much wanted to have a real princess. One evening there was a terrible storm. It thundered and lightninged! The rain poured down! It was horrible! Then there was a knock at the city gate, and the old king went out to open it. A princess was standing outside. But my goodness, how she looked from the rain and the weather! Water ran down from her hair and her clothes. It ran into the toes of her shoes and out at the heels. And yet she said that she was a real princess. 'Well, we shall soon find that out,' thought the old queen. But she said nothing, went into the bedroom, took off all the bedding and laid a pea on the bottom of the bed. Then she took twenty mattresses and laid them on the pea, and then twenty featherbeds of eiderdown on top of the mattresses. That was where the princess was to sleep for the night. In the morning she was asked how she had slept. 'Oh, horribly!' she said. 'I hardly closed my eyes all night. Goodness knows what there was in the bed! I was lying on something hard, so that I am black and blue all over my body. It is horrible!' Now they could see that she was a real princess, because she had felt the pea right through the twenty mattresses and the twenty featherbeds. Nobody but a real princess could be that sensitive. So the prince took her for his wife, because now he knew that he had a real princess. And the pea was put in the art gallery where it can still be seen, unless someone has taken it. Now see, that was a real story!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
704,The Three Delicate Wives of King Virtue-Banner: Which Is the Most Delicate?,India,NA,"Arthur William Ryder, transl. Twenty-Two Goblins (London and Toronto: J. M. Dent and Sons; New York: E. P. Dutton and Co., 1917), pp. 87-90. (Links open in new windows.)","There once was a king in Ujjain, whose name was Virtue-Banner. He had three princesses as wives, and loved them dearly. One of them was named Crescent, the second Star, and the third Moon. While the king lived happily with his wives, he conquered all his enemies, and was content. One day at the time of the spring festival, the king went to the garden to play with his three wives. There he looked at the flower-laden vines with black rows of bees on them ; they seemed like the bow of the god of love, all ready for service. He heard the songs of nightingales in the trees; they sounded like commands of Love. And with his wives he drank wine which seemed like Love's very life blood. Then the king playfully pulled the hair of Queen Crescent, and a lotus-petal fell from her hair into her lap. And the queen was so delicate that it wounded her, and she screamed and fainted. And the king was distracted, but when servants sprinkled her with cool water and fanned her, she gradually recovered consciousness. And the king took her to the palace and waited upon his dear wife with a hundred remedies which the physicians brought. And when the king saw that she was made comfortable for the night, he went to the palace balcony with his second wife Star. Now while she slept on the king's breast, the moonbeams found their way through the window and fell upon her. And she awoke in a moment, and started up, crying, 'I am burned!' Then the king awoke and anxiously asked what the matter was, and he saw great blisters on her body. When he asked her about it, Queen Star said, 'The moonbeams that fell on me did it.' And the king was distracted when he saw how she wept and suffered. He called the servants and they made a couch of moist lotus leaves, and dressed her wounds with damp sandal paste. At that moment the third queen, Moon, left her room to go to the king. And as she moved through the noiseless night, she clearly heard in a distant part of the palace the sound of pestles grinding grain. And she cried, 'Oh, oh! It will kill me!' She wrung her hands and sat down in agony in the hall. But her servants returned and led her to her room, where she took to her bed and wept. And when the servants asked what the matter was, she tearfully showed her hands with bruises on them, like two lilies with black bees clinging to them. So they went and told the king. And he came in great distress, and asked his dear wife about it. She showed her hands and spoke, though she suffered, 'My dear, when I heard the sound of the pestles, these bruises came.' Then the king made them give her a cooling plaster of sandal paste and other things. And the king thought, 'One of them was wounded by a falling lotus petal. The second was burned by the moonbeams. The third had her hands terribly bruised by the sound of pestles. I love them dearly, but alas! The very delicacy which is so great a virtue, is positively inconvenient.' And he wandered about in the palace, and it seemed as if the night had three hundred hours. But in the morning the king and his skilful physicians took such measures that before long his wives were well and he was happy. When he had told this story, the goblin asked, 'O King, which of them was the most delicate?' And the king said, 'The one who was bruised by the mere sound of the pestles, when nothing touched her. The other two who were wounded or blistered by actual contact with lotus petals or moonbeams, are not equal to her.' When the goblin heard this, he went back, and the king resolutely hastened to catch him again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Andres the Trapper,Philippines,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania; and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 48B, pp. 332-35. Source (Internet Archive): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania; and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 48B, pp. 332-35.","One morning some boys invited Andres to go to the woods with them to trap. When they got to the forest, his companions set their traps in the places where the wild chickens used to feed. Then they went home. In the afternoon they returned to the woods, where they found that each trap had caught a wild cock. Now Andres became envious of his companions: so when he reached home, he took his knife and made two traps of his own. After he had finished them, he ran to the forest and set them. Early the next morning he went to the woods to see if he had caught anything. There he found two wild cocks snared. He took them home, sold one, and ate the other for his dinner. When he had finished eating, he made many traps, which he set up that afternoon. From now on he made his living by trapping, often catching as many as fifteen birds in a day. From the money he earned he was able to feed himself and buy clothes. One day, after Andres had been a trapper for many years, he went to the forest, as usual, to see what he had caught. He found that his traps had been moved, and that in one of them was a big monkey caught by the leg. As Andres was about to kill the monkey with a big stick which he picked up, the animal said to him, 'My dear Andres, don't harm me! and I will be your helper by and by.' Andres was much astonished to hear the monkey talk. He was moved to pity, and set the animal free. When he started toward his home, the monkey followed him. From now on they lived together. Soon the monkey learned how to sell wild chickens in the market. Now, in that town there lived a very rich man by the name of Toribio, who had a daughter named Aning. The people considered Aning the most beautiful lady in the province. However, none of the young men of the town courted Aning, for they felt unworthy and ashamed to woo the richest and most beautiful girl. One fine day the monkey went to town and sold wild chickens, as usual. On his way home he stopped at Don Toribio's house. Don Toribio asked what he wanted, and the monkey said that his master had sent him to borrow their money-measure. 'Who is your master?' said Don Toribio. 'Don't you know? Don Andres, a very rich, handsome young gentleman who lives in the valley of Obong,' said the monkey. Don Toribio at once lent the ganta-measure to the monkey, who thanked him and hurried home. Before he returned it to the owner the next morning, he put a peso, a fifty-centavo piece, a peseta, and a media-peseta in the cracks of the measure. When the monkey handed the ganta back to Don Toribio, the man said, 'Why do you return it? Has your master finished measuring his money?' 'No, sir!' said the monkey, 'we have not finished; but this box is too small, and it takes us too long to measure with it.' 'Well,' said Don Toribio, 'we have a bigger one than that; do you want to borrow it?' 'Yes, I do, if you will let me keep it till tomorrow,' said the monkey. Don Toribio then brought a cavan, which equals about twenty-five gantas. When the monkey reached home carrying the large measure, Andres said to him, 'Where did you get that box?' The monkey said that it had been lent to him by the richest man in the town. 'What did you tell the man that you were going to do with it?' said Andres. ' I told him that you wanted to count your money,' said the monkey. 'Ah, me!' said Andres, 'what money are you going to count? Don't you know that we are very poor?' 'Let me manage things, Andres,' said the monkey, 'and I promise you that you shall marry the beautiful daughter of the rich man.' The following day Andres caught many wild chickens. When the monkey had sold them all in the market, he went back to their hut, and took the cavan which he had borrowed. Before returning it to Don Toribio, he stuck money in the cracks, as he had done to the first measure. 'Good-morning, Don Toribio!' said the monkey. Don Toribio was sitting in a chair by the door of his house. 'Good-morning, monkey! How do you do?' replied the rich man. 'Have you come to return the box?' 'Yes, sir!' said the monkey. 'We have finished. My master sends his thanks to you.' When Don Toribio took the box and saw the money inside, he told the monkey about it; but the monkey said, 'Never mind! we have plenty more in our house.' 'I am the richest man in town, yet I cannot throw money away like the master of this fellow,' said Don Toribio to himself. 'Perhaps he is even richer than I am.' When the monkey was about to take his leave, the rich man told him to tell his master to come there on the third day. The monkey said that he would, and thanked Don Toribio for the invitation. On his way home, the monkey stopped at the market to buy a pair of shoes, some ready-made clothes, and a hat for Andres. He took these things home to his master, and in three days had taught Andres how to walk easily with shoes on, how to speak elegantly, how to eat with a spoon and fork and knife, and how to tell Don Toribio that he wanted to marry his daughter. When the time came, Andres and the monkey set out for the town. They were welcomed by Don Toribio and his daughter Aning. After a short talk, Andres spoke of his purpose in coming there. He said that he wanted to marry Don Toribio's daughter. Don Toribio gladly accepted the offer, and said that the wedding would be held the next morning. Hasty preparations were made for the ceremony. In the morning a priest came, and Andres and Aning were married. Many guests were present, and everybody had a good time. A few years later Don Toribio died, and Andres inherited all his wealth. He then became a very rich man.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Boroltai Ku,Mongolia,"Gardner's source: ' Daba, a Khalka man of Kêbe tushe gun Gachoun.' Footnote: *Noi-on, perhaps Chinese Nei jen, attendant, one who holds office in the palace (?)","Source (books.google.com): C. Gardner, 'Folk-Lore in Mongolia,' The Folk-Lore Journal, volume 4, part 1 (January - March, 1886), pp. 32-34. Source (Internet Archive): C. Gardner, 'Folk-Lore in Mongolia,' The Folk-Lore Journal, volume 4, part 1 (January - March, 1886), pp. 32-34.","Boroltai Ku lived in a hut on grass, and was clothed in a felt coat. His only possession was a girdle; once he saw a fox's hole, and dug out the fox. She said to him: 'Don't kill me, and I will marry thee to a khan's daughter, and will make thee a khan.' Boroltai Ku let the fox go. She ran to Gurbushten Khan, and says: 'Boroltai Ku, the rich khan, wishes to marry thy daughter.' 'If Boroltai Ku is indeed a rich khan then let him procure me a leopard, a lion, and an elephant,' said Gurbushten Khan. The fox ran to Boroltai Ku, and said: 'Give me three strings.' Boroltai Ku took from his girdle three strings. The fox took them and went at first to the leopard and said: 'Gurbushten Khan and Boroltai Ku, the rich khan, prepare a summer feast; and, as you are a famous animal, the khan wishes to invite you.' She placed on the leopard the string and led him forth. In like manner she bridled the lion and the elephant, and led them to Gurbushten Khan. The khan ordered an iron Baishen-house to be built, which was enclosed by three walls, and fettered the beasts with chains. Then he said: 'If Boroltai Ku is indeed a rich khan, then let him drive his cattle and come here.' The fox ordered Boroltai Ku to follow in her footsteps. Boroltai Ku went on foot in his bad coat. On the road to the khan they came to a river; the fox ordered Boroltai Ku to stay by the river, and herself ran on before to Gurbushten Khan, and says: 'Boroltai Ku, the rich khan, is close at hand; but a misfortune has befallen him; all his cattle, his southern camels, all his silk garments and gold, at the time of his crossing sank -- Boroltai is left naked. Send him quickly silken raiment in which he may visit you.' Silken raiment they sent; Boroltai Ku came to the khan's camp. The khan gave him his daughter and let him go home, and as a guide gave him his Noi-on.* The fox ran on ahead, and begged each herdsman on the road if a passer-by should ask them whose is this cattle? to reply, 'It is the cattle of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan.' The Noi-on dispatched by the khan received the same answer all along the road. The fox ran to the tent of the Khan Manguis, lay down at the door and groans. The khan asks: 'What art thou groaning at, O fox? ' 'A misfortune will befall unfortunate me,' said the fox; 'a storm is coming.' 'Oh, dear, that is a misfortune to me, too,' says the Khan Manguis. 'How to you?' says the fox. 'You can order a hole ten fathoms deep to be dug, and can hide in it.' So he did. Boroltai Ku appeared in the tent of the Khan Manguis, as if it was his own. The fox assured the Noi-on of Gurbushten Khan that it was the house of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan. 'There is only one defect here,' says she. 'What is that?' 'Under the tent under the earth a demon inhabits. Won't you bring down lightning to slay him?' The Noi-on brought down lightning and it struck the Khan Manguis who was sitting in the hole; and Boroltai Ku became khan, and took all the possessions, the cattle, and the people of Manguis, and lived near Gurbushten Khan.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Count Martin of the Cat,Italy / Austria,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Christian Schneller, Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol: Ein Beitrag zur deutschen Sagenkunde (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 43, pp. 122-28.","An impoverished father died, leaving his two sons only a bench and a cat. As he closed his eyes he said, 'Divide this small inheritance between the two of you. Let there be no dispute about it.' The older brother said, 'I'll take the bench, then at least I can sit down and rest as often as I like.' 'And I'll take the cat,' said the younger one, whose name Martin. 'She likes me, and is always following me everywhere.' They went their separate ways into the world. The older brother carried the bench with him, and whenever he got tired he sat down on it and rested. Martin, however, went on his way with the cat, and had every reason to be happy about his choice. Whenever he got hungry, the cat went into a house where a table had been set, then before the eyes of the astonished people she carried food away to her master. Thus he never lacked food and drink. The cat also took care of his dress by stealing a beautiful piece of clothing here and there, and bringing it to him. Thus he was dressed like a real gentleman. Therefore the cat said to him, 'When the people ask about your name, tell them that you are called Count Martin of the Cat. He liked this idea. 'I would never have dreamed,' he said, laughing to himself, 'that with the help of my dear cat I should become a count.' One day they came to a wide plain. There were beautiful green meadows and fields, and they asked the people to whom they belonged. 'To such and such a count,' they replied. They went onward, coming to magnificent forests and still more beautiful meadows with numerous flocks and shepherds. As often as they asked, everything belonged to that count. Finally they came to the palace where the rich old count himself lived with his wife. They were received there graciously. When the old gentlemen went to the cellar to get wine, the cat took the opportunity to creep after him, then strangled him in the cellar. The count's wife then went to the cellar to see what was keeping her husband so long. The cat jumped on her, and strangled her too. Then the cat went upstairs to her master and said, 'The two old ones down in the cellar are dead. Now you are the master of the palace. You must behave as such. Leave all the rest to me.' Then she ran out to the fields and meadows and forests, and everywhere she saw mowers, woodsmen, or shepherds, she cried, 'The old count and his wife are dead, and have named my lord, Count Martin of the Cat, as their heir. He is now your rightful master. He has charged me with making this known to you, so that you may know his name and obey him alone.' Everywhere the people replied, 'We are your servants, Madame Cat. If our old master has died, then he died well. Long live our new master!' Count Martin of the Cat had now the most wonderful life in the world. One day his brother came to the castle, still carrying the bench with him, and still desperately poor. He did not recognize Martin, but the latter took him in and gave him a position as overseer in his court. He too now had a good life and could sit on his bench whenever he wanted to. Some time later the cat said to her master, 'I feel that I'm getting old, and that my end is near. I have helped you to your good fortune, so show your thanks by having me buried with dignity and with a beautiful gravestone. I deserve this much.' Then she secretly decided to put her master to the test. One day she lay down on the floor, pretending to be dead. When Martin saw her, he said, 'So the disgusting animal is finally dead!' And he was about to throw he body out into the courtyard. Jumping to her feet, the cat cried out, 'You unthankful one, is this how you are going to treat the one to whom you owe everything?' She continued with a stream of rebukes, all of which he silently accepted, for he knew that he deserved the condemnation. Finally he answered her, saying that he was sorry and asking for her forgiveness. 'After you death of course I will have you buried with dignity and give you a beautiful gravestone,' he solemnly promised. More time passed, and the cat did indeed die. Count Martin kept his promise and had her solemnly buried. I almost do not want to say so, but I was told that he had her buried in a church. He is said to have placed a beautiful gravestone in her honor, upon which her achievements were engraved in glowing words. Today the stone is no longer to be found, nor can anyone remember having seen it. Furthermore, no one knows what has become of it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Don Joseph Pear,Italy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 33, pp. 127-31. Source (Internet Archive): Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1885), no. 33, pp. 127-31.","There were once three brothers who owned a pear tree and lived on the pears. One day one of the brothers went to pick these pears, and found that they had been gathered. 'Oh! my brothers! what shall we do, for our pears have been picked?' So the eldest went and remained in the garden to guard the pear tree during the night. He fell asleep, however, and the next morning the second brother came and said: 'What have you done, my brother? Have you been sleeping? Do you not see that the pears have been picked? Tonight I will stay.' That night the second brother remained. The next morning the youngest went there and saw more of the pears picked, and said: 'Were you the one that was going to keep a good watch? Go, I will stay here tonight; we shall see whether they can cheat me to my face.' At night the youngest brother began to play and dance under the pear tree; while he was not playing, a fox, believing that the youth had gone to sleep, came out and climbed the tree and picked the rest of the pears. When it was coming down the tree, the youth quickly aimed his gun at it and was about to shoot. The fox said: 'Don't shoot me, Don Joseph; for I will have you called Don Joseph Pear, and will make you marry the king's daughter.' Don Joseph answered: 'And where shall I see you again? What has the king to do with you? With one kick that he would give you, you would never appear before him again.' However, Don Joseph Pear from pity let her escape. The fox went away to a forest and caught all sorts of game: squirrels, hares, and quails, and carried them to the king; so that it was a sight. 'Sir Majesty, Don Joseph Pear sends me; you must accept this game.' The king said: 'Listen, little fox, I accept this game; but I have never heard this Don Joseph Pear mentioned.' The fox left the game there, and ran away to Don Joseph. 'Softly, Don Joseph, I have taken the first step; I have been to the king, and carried him the first game; and he accepted it.' A week later the fox went to the forest, caught the best animals: squirrels, hares, birds, and took them to the king. 'Sir Majesty, Don Joseph Pear sends me to you with this game.' The king said to the fox: 'My daughter, I don't know who this Don Joseph Pear is; I am afraid you have been sent somewhere else! I will tell you what: Have this Don Joseph Pear come here, so that I can make his acquaintance.' The fox wished to leave the game, and said: 'I am not mistaken; my master sent me here; and for a token, he said that he wished the princess for his wife.' The fox returned to Don Joseph Pear, and said to him: 'Softly, things are going well; after I have been to the king again, the matter is settled.' Don Joseph said: 'I will not believe you until I have my wife.' The fox now went to an ogress and said: 'Friend, friend, have we not to divide the gold and silver?' 'Certainly,' said the ogress to the fox. 'Go and get the measure and we will divide the gold from the silver.' The fox went to the king and did not say: 'The ogress wants to borrow your measure;' but she said: 'Don Joseph Pear wants to borrow, for a short time, your measure to separate the gold from the silver.' 'What!' said the king. 'Has this Don Joseph Pear such great riches? Is he then richer than I?' And he gave the fox the measure. When he was alone with his daughter he said to her, in the course of his conversation: 'It must be that this Don Joseph Pear is very rich, for he divides the gold and silver.' The fox carried the measure to the ogress, who began to measure and heap up gold and silver. When she had finished, the fox went to Don Joseph Pear and dressed him in new clothes, a watch with diamonds, rings, a ring for his betrothed, and everything that was needed for the marriage. 'Behold, Don Joseph,' said the fox, 'I am going before you now; you go to the king and get your bride and then go to the church.' Don Joseph went to the king; got his bride, and they went to the church. After they were married, the princess got into the carriage and the bridegroom mounted his horse. The fox made a sign to Don Joseph and said: 'I will go before you; you follow me and let the carriages and horses come after.' They started on their way, and came to a sheep farm which belonged to the ogress. The boy who was tending the sheep, when he saw the fox approach, threw a stone at her, and she began to weep. 'Ah!' she said to the boy. 'Now I will have you killed. Do you see those horsemen? Now I will have you killed!' The youth, terrified, said: 'If you will not do anything to me I will not throw any more stones at you.' The fox replied: 'If you don't want to be killed, when the king passes and asks you whose is this sheep farm, you must tell him: 'Don Joseph Pear's,' for Don Joseph Pear is his son-in-law, and he will reward you.' The cavalcade passed by, and the king asked the boy: 'Whose is this sheep farm?' The boy replied at once: 'Don Joseph Pear's.' The king gave him some money. The fox kept about ten paces before Don Joseph, and the latter did nothing but say in a low tone: 'Where are you taking me, fox? What lands do I possess that you can make me believed to be rich? Where are we going?' The fox replied: 'Softly, Don Joseph, and leave it to me.' They went on and on, and the fox saw another farm of cattle, with the herdsman. The same thing happened there as with the shepherd: the stone thrown and the fox's threat. The king passed. 'Herdsman, whose is this farm of cattle?' 'Don Joseph Pear's.' And the king, astonished at his son-in-law's wealth, gave the herdsman a piece of gold. Don Joseph was pleased on the one hand, but on the other was perplexed and did not know how it was to turn out. When the fox turned around, Joseph said: 'Where are you taking me, fox? You are ruining me.' The fox kept on as if she had nothing to do with the matter. Then she came to another farm of horses and mares. The boy who was tending them threw a stone at the fox. She frightened him, and he told the king, when the king asked him, that the farm was Don Joseph Pear's. They kept on and came to a well, and near it the ogress was sitting. The fox began to run and pretended to be in great terror. 'Friend, friend, see, they are coming! These horsemen will kill us! Let us hide in the well, shall we not?' 'Yes, friend,' said the ogress in alarm. 'Shall I throw you down first?' said the fox. 'Certainly, friend.' Then the fox threw the ogress down the well, and then entered the ogress' palace. Don Joseph Pear followed the fox, with his wife, his father-in-law, and all the riders. The fox showed them through all the apartments, displaying the riches, Don Joseph Pear contented at having found his fortune, and the king still more contented because his daughter was so richly settled. There was a festival for a few days, and then the king, well satisfied, returned to his own country and his daughter remained with her husband. One day the fox was looking out of the window, and Don Joseph Pear and his wife were going up to the terrace. Don Joseph Pear took up a little dust from the terrace and threw it at the fox's head. The fox raised her eyes. 'What is the meaning of this, after the good I have done you, miserable fellow?' said she to Don Joseph. 'Take care or I will speak!' The wife said to her husband: 'What is the matter with the fox, to speak thus?' 'Nothing,' answered her husband. 'I threw a little dust at her and she got angry.' Don Joseph took up a little more dust and threw it at the fox's head. The fox, in a rage, cried: 'Joe, you see I will speak! And I declare that you were the owner of a pear tree!' Don Joseph was frightened, for the fox told his wife everything; so he took an earthen jar and threw it at the fox's head, and so got rid of her. Thus -- the ungrateful fellow that he was -- he killed the one who had done him so much kindness; but nevertheless he enjoyed all his wealth with his wife.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,Norway,Stroebe's source: Hallvard Bergh.,"Source (books.google.com): Clara Stroebe, The Norwegian Fairy Book, translated [from the German] by Frederick H. Martens (New York: Frederick A. Stokes, 1922), no. 26, pp. 213-23. Source (Internet Archive): Clara Stroebe, The Norwegian Fairy Book, translated [from the German] by Frederick H. Martens (New York: Frederick A. Stokes, 1922), no. 26, pp. 213-23.","Once upon a time there was a sinister old couple, who lived out under the open sky. All that they had were three sons, an old cook-pot, an old frying-pan, and an old cat. Then the man died, and after a time his wife died, too. Now their estate was to be divided. So the oldest took the old cook-pot, and the second took the old frying-pan, and Ebe Ashpeter had no choice. He had to take the old cat, and they did not ask him whether he wanted to or not. 'Brother Peter can scrape out the cook-pot after he has loaned it out,' said Ebe. 'Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan; but what am I to do with this wretched cat?' And he was angry and envious. Yet he scratched the cat and stroked it, and this pleased the cat so that she began to purr, and raised her tail in the air. 'Wait, wait, I'll help you yet,' said the cat. 'Wait, wait, I'll help you yet!' There was nothing to bite or break in the hut. Brother Peter and Brother Paul had each of them gone off in a different direction. So Ebe set out, too, with the cat in the lead, himself following; but after a time he turned and went home again, to see whether the floor had been swept, and the cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a great rock, and there she met an enormous herd of reindeer. The cat crept softly around the herd, and then with one leap sprang between the horns of the finest buck. 'If you do not go where I want you to, I'll scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!' said she. So the buck did not dare do anything save what the cat wished, and off they went over stick and stone, from cliff to cliff, close by Ebe, who was just polishing the door-sill of his house, and with one bound right into the castle. 'I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king might care to have this buck reindeer to drive,' said the cat. Yes, he could make good use of such a young, handsome animal, some time, when he had occasion to drive out to visit a neighboring king. 'This Ebe must be a proud and powerful lord,' said the king, 'if he can make me such presents.' 'Yes, he is the greatest lord in all your land and kingdom,' said the cat, but no matter how many questions the king asked, he learned nothing more. 'Tell him that I am much obliged,' said the king, and he sent him a whole cart-load of handsome presents. But Ebe looked past them and paid no attention to them. 'Brother Peter can scrape out his cook-pot when he has loaned it out, and Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan; but what am I to do with this wretched cat!' said he, and felt angry and envious. But still he scratched the cat, and stroked her, and this pleased her so much that she began to purr, and raised her tail in the air. 'Wait, wait, I will help you yet,' said the cat. 'Wait, wait, I will help you yet!' The next day they both set out again, the cat in the lead, and Ebe following. After a while he turned back to see whether the folding-table at home had been scoured. And the cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a dense forest slope. There she found an enormous herd of elk. The cat crept softly up, and suddenly there she sat between the horns of one of the stateliest of the bull elks. 'If you do not go where I want you to, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!' said the cat. The elk did not dare do anything save what the cat wished, and so off they went, like lightning, over stick and stone, from cliff to cliff, right past Ebe, who stood before the house scouring the shutters, and with one bound into the king's castle. 'I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king might not care to have this bull elk for courier service.' It was quite clear that should the king want a swift messenger, some time, he could not find a swifter in all his kingdom. 'This Ebe must be a most distinguished lord, since he finds such presents for me,' said the king. 'Yes, indeed, one might call him a distinguished lord,' said the cat. 'His wealth is without end or limit.' But no matter how many other questions the king asked, he received no more explicit information. 'Tell him that I am much obliged, and to do me the honor to call when he is passing here some time,' said the king, and sent him a robe as handsome as the one he himself was wearing, and three cartloads of handsome presents. But Ebe did not even want to put on the royal robe, and hardly looked at the other presents. 'Brother Peter can scrape out his cook-pot when he has loaned it out, Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan; but of what use is this wretched cat to me!' he said, in spite of all. Yet he stroked the cat, and pressed her to his cheek, and scratched her, and this pleased the cat so very much that she purred more than on the other occasions, and stuck her tail up into the air as straight as a rod. On the third day they set out again, the cat in the lead, and Ebe following. After a time it occurred to him to go back and let the mice out of the house, so that they would not be altogether starved in the old hut; and the cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a dense pine forest, and there she met a father bear, a mother bear and a baby bear. The cat crept softly up to them, and all at once she was hanging by her claws to the father bear's head. 'If you do not go where I want you to, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!' said the cat, and spit and arched her back. Then the father bear did not dare do any thing save what the cat wished, and now they dashed past Ebe, who had just carried all the young mice over the threshold, like a storm, over stick and stone, from cliff to cliff, so that the earth trembled and shook. The king was just standing in the hallway, and was not a little surprised to see such guests arriving. 'I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king might not care to have this bear for a general or royal counselor,' said the cat. The king was more than pleased to secure such a creature for his nearest adviser, who could doubt it. 'Tell him that I am much obliged, but that I do not at all know how to show my appreciation,' said the king. 'Well, he would like to marry your youngest daughter!' said the cat. 'Yes, but that is asking a good deal,' said the king. 'He really ought to pay me a visit.' 'Ebe does not enter such plain houses,' said the cat. 'Has he a handsomer castle than this?' asked the king. 'Handsomer? Why, your castle seems like the shabbiest hut in comparison with his!' was the cat's reply. 'You dare come into my presence, and tell me that there is someone living in my kingdom who is more handsomely housed than I, the king!' shouted the king, beside himself with rage. He came near wringing the cat's neck. 'You might wait until you see it,' said the cat. And the king said yes, he would wait. 'But if you have told me a falsehood, you shall die, and though you had seven lives,' said he. In the morning the king and the whole court set out to travel to Ebe Ashpeter's castle. The cat was in the little hut, and called for Ebe, thinking it would be best if both of them got underway an hour earlier. After they had gone a while, they met some folk who were herding sheep; and the sheep were bleating and grazing over the whole plain. They were as large as full-grown calves, and their wool was so long that it dragged along the ground after them. 'To whom do the sheep belong?' asked the cat. 'To Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,' said the shepherds. 'The court is coming past in a moment,' said the cat, 'and if then you do not at once say that they belong to Ebe, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!' said the cat, and spat and arched her back, and showed her teeth. Then the shepherds were so frightened that they at once promised to do as the cat had ordered. 'But to whom do all these sheep belong?' asked the king, when he came by with the court somewhat later. 'They are every bit as handsome as my own!' 'They belong to Ebe,' said the shepherds. Then the cat and Ebe wandered on for a while, and came to a dense forest slope. There they met folk who were tending goats. The goats skipped and leaped about everywhere, and gave such fine milk that better could no where be found. 'To whom do the goats belong?' asked the cat. 'To Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,' said the herds men. Then the cat again went through her ferocious preparations, and the herdsmen were so frightened that they did not dare oppose her wishes. 'Now who in the world can be the owner of so many goats?' asked the king. 'I myself have none finer!' 'They belong to Ebe,' said the herdsmen. Then they wandered on for a while, and met folk who were tending cows. Wherever one looked the cows lowed and glistened, and each yielded milk enough for three. When the cat heard that these herdsmen were also in the service of Helge-Hal of the Blue Hill, she spat once more, and arched her back, and then all the herdsmen were ready that moment to say what she wished. 'But in heaven's name, to whom do all these beautiful cattle belong?' asked the king. 'There are no such cattle in my whole kingdom!' 'They belong to Lord Ebe,' said the herdsmen. Then they wandered on for a long, long time. At last they came to a great plain, and there they met horse-herders; and horses whinnied and disported themselves over the whole plain, and their coats were so fine that they glistened as though gilded, and each horse was worth a whole castle. 'For whom do you herd these horses?' asked the cat. 'For Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,' the herders replied. 'Well, the court will come by here in a little while,' said the cat, 'and if you do not say you are herding them for Ebe, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!' said the cat, and she spat, and showed her teeth and claws, and grew so angry her hair stood up all along her back. Then the herders were terribly frightened, and did not dare do anything but what the cat wished. 'But in the name of heaven, to whom do all these horses belong?' asked the king, when he came by with his court. 'They belong to Ebe,' said the herders. 'I never have seen or heard anything like it in all my life!' cried the king. 'This Ebe is such a distinguished lord that it is past my understanding!' The cat and Ebe had long since gone on their way, and had wandered far and ever farther over hill and rock. In the evening, at dusk, they came to a royal castle that glittered and shimmered as though it were of the purest silver and gold -- which it was. Yet it was gloomy and depressing, and lonely and barren there, and nowhere was there a sign of life. Here they went in, and the cat stood with a cake of rye meal just below the door. Suddenly there came a thundering and a thumping so that the earth trembled, and the whole castle shook, and that was the troll who was coming home. And suddenly all was quiet again, and before they knew it, Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill had thrust his three great horrible heads in at the door. 'Let me in! Let me in!' he cried, so that every one shivered. 'Wait, wait a bit while I tell you what the rye had to go through before he was made into this cake,' said the cat, and spoke to him in the sweetest way. 'First he was threshed, and then he was beaten, and then he was pounded, and then he was thumped, and then he was thrown from one wall to another, and then he was sifted through a sieve....' 'Let me in! Let me in, you chatterbox!' cried the troll, and he was so furious that the sparks flew from him. 'Wait a bit, wait a bit. I will tell you what the rye had to go through before he was made into this cake!' said the cat, and he spoke to him still more sweetly. 'First he was threshed, and then he was beaten, and then he was pounded, and then he was thumped, and then he was thrown from one wall to another, and then he was sifted through a sieve, and shaken here and there, and then he was put on the drying-board, and then in the stove, until it grew so hot that he puffed up more and more, and wanted to get out, but could not,' said the cat, and took her time. 'Get out of the way and let me in!' cried the troll once more, and nearly burst with rage. But the cat acted as though she did not hear him, and talked down the blue from the sky, and went up and down the while, and whenever the troll tried to come in, she met him beneath the door with the cake. 'O, but do take a look at the shining maiden coming up there behind the mountain!' said the cat, after she had talked at length about the sufferings of the rye. And Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill turned his three heads around in order to see the beautiful maiden, too. Then the sun rose, and the troll stiffened into stone. Now Ebe obtained all the riches that the troll had possessed, the sheep and goats, the cows and all the spirited horses, and the handsome golden castle, and some big bags of money besides. 'Here come the king and all his court,' said the cat. 'Just go out before the door and receive them!' So Ebe got up and went to meet them. 'You are indeed a very distinguished lord!' said the king to him. 'So far as I am concerned you may have the youngest princess!' Then they started brewing and baking on a large scale in the greatest haste, and everything was made ready for the wedding. On the first day of the feast the cat came and begged the bridegroom to cut off her head. This he did not at all want to do; but the cat spat and showed her teeth, and then Ebe did not dare disobey her. But when the head fell to the ground, the cat turned into a most handsome prince. He married the second princess, and as the wedding procession was on its way to church, they met a third prince who was looking for a wife, and he took the oldest princess. Then they all three celebrated their weddings so that the story went the rounds in twelve kingdoms. Spin, span, spun, Now our tale is done!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Jogeshwar's Marriage,India,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 55, pp. 173-76..","Once upon a time there was a young man of the weaver caste, named Jogeshwar. He was an orphan and lived all alone. One summer he planted a field of pumpkins on the sandy bed of a river. The plants grew well and bore plenty of fruit; but when the pumpkins were ripe, a jackal found them out and went every night and feasted on them. Jogeshwar soon found out from the foot-marks who was doing the damage; so he set a snare and a few days later found the jackal caught in it. He took a stick to beat its life out, but the jackal cried: 'Spare me and I will find you a wife.' So Jogeshwar stayed his hand and released the jackal who promised at once to set off about the business. The jackal kept his word and went to a city where a raja lived. There he sat down on the bank of one of the raja's tanks. To this tank the servants from the palace brought the pots and dishes to be washed, and to this tank also came the rani and princesses to bathe. Whenever the servants came to wash their dishes, the jackal kept on repeating: 'What sort of a raja is this whose plates are washed in water in which people have bathed? There is no raja like Raja Jogeshwar. He eats of golden plates and yet he never uses them a second time but throws them away directly he has eaten off them once.' The servants soon carried word to the raja of the jackal who sat by the tank and of his story of Raja Jogeshwar. Then the raja sent for the jackal and asked why he had come. The jackal answered that he was looking for a bride for Raja Jogeshwar. Now the raja had three or four daughters and he thought that he saw his way to a fine match for one of them. So he sent for the young women and asked the jackal to say whether one of them would be a suitable bride for Raja Jogeshwar. The jackal chose the second sister and said that he would go and get the consent of Raja Jogeshwar. The jackal hurried back and told the astonished weaver that he had found a raja's daughter for him to marry. Jogeshwar had nothing to delay him and only asked that an early day might be fixed for the wedding. So the jackal went back to the raja and received from him the knotted string that fixed the date of the wedding. The jackal had now to devise some means by which Jogeshwar could go through the wedding ceremonies without his poverty being found out. He first went to the raja and asked how many attendants Raja Jogeshwar should bring with him, as he did not want to bring more than the bride's father could entertain. The raja was too proud to fix any number and said they could bring as many as they liked. Jogeshwar having no relations and no money, was quite unable to arrange for a grand procession to escort him. He could only just afford to hire a palki in which to be carried to the bride's house; so the jackal sent word to all the jackals and paddy birds of the neighborhood to come to a feast at the palace of the bride, an invitation which was eagerly accepted. At the time fixed they started off, with all the paddy birds riding on the backs of the jackals. When they came within sight of the palace, the jackal ran on ahead and invited the raja to come out and look at the procession as there was still time to send them back, if they were too many, but it would be a great disgrace if they were allowed to arrive and find no entertainment. The raja went out to look and when he saw the procession stretching away for a distance of two miles or more with all the paddy birds looking like white horsemen as they rode on the backs of the jackals, his heart failed him and he begged the jackal to send them away, as he could not entertain such a host. So then the jackal hurried back and turned them all away and Jogeshwar reached the palace, accompanied only by his palki bearers. Before the wedding feast, the jackal gave Jogeshwar some hints as to his behavior. He warned him that three of four kinds of meat and vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be sure to help himself from each dish -- of course in his own house the poor weaver had never had more than one dish to eat with his rice -- and when pan was handed to him after the feast he was not to take any until he had a handful of money given him. By such behavior he would lead every one to think that he was really a prince. Jogeshwar did exactly as he was told and was thought a very grand personage. The next evening Jogeshwar set off homewards with his bride, the bride's brothers and attendants accompanying them. They travelled on and on till the bride's party began to grow tired and kept asking the jackal how much further they had to go. The jackal kept on putting them off, till at last they came in sight of a grove of palm trees, and he told them that Raja Jogeshwar's palace stood among the palm trees but was so old and weather worn that it could not be seen from a distance. When they reached the palm grove and found nothing but Jogeshwar's humble hut, the bride's brothers turned on the jackal and asked what he meant by deceiving them. The jackal protested that he had told no lies. The weaver ate every day off plates made of dry leaves and threw them away when done with and that was all he meant when he talked of golden plates. At this excuse they turned on him and wanted to beat him, but he ran away and escaped. The bride's friends went back and told the raja how things had turned out and as divorce was not lawful for them, the raja could only send for his daughter and her husband and give them an estate to live on.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Lord Peter,Norway,"Link to a different translation of this story (Internet Archive): Squire Peter, translated by H. L. Brækstad (1897). Link to the tale in the original Norwegian: 'Herreper'.","Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), no. 41, pp. 324-31. Source (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), no. 41, pp. 324-31.","The eldest, who was to have first choice, he took the pot. 'For,' said he, 'whenever I lend the pot to anyone to boil porridge, I can always get leave to scrape it.' The second took the griddle. 'For,' said he, 'whenever I lend it to anyone, I'll always get a morsel of dough to make a bannock.' But the youngest, he had no choice left him; if he was to choose anything it must be the cat. 'Well!' said he, 'if I lend the cat to any one I shan't get much by that; for if pussy gets a drop of milk she will want it all herself. Still, I'd best take her along with me; I shouldn't like her to go about here and starve.' So the brothers went out into the world to try their luck, and each took his own way; but when the youngest had gone a while, the cat said, 'Now you shall have a good turn, because you wouldn't let me stay behind in the old cottage and starve. Now, I'm off to the wood to lay hold of a fine fat head of game, and then you must go up to the king's palace that you see yonder, and say you are come with a little present for the king; and when he asks who sends it, you must say, 'Why, who should it be from but Lord Peter.'' Well! Peter hadn't waited long before back came the cat with a reindeer from the wood; she had jumped up on the reindeer's head, between his horns, and said, 'If you don't go straight to the king's palace I'll claw your eyes out.' So the reindeer had to go whether he liked it or no. And when Peter got to the palace he went into the kitchen with the deer and said, 'Here I'm come with a little present for the king, if he won't despise it.' Then the king went out into the kitchen, and when he saw the fine plump reindeer, he was very glad. 'But, my dear friend,' he said, 'who in the world is it that sends me such a fine gift?' 'Oh!' said Peter, 'who should sent it but Lord Peter?' 'Lord Peter! Lord Peter!' said the king. 'Pray tell me where he lives; 'for he thought it a shame not to know so great a man. But that was just what the lad wouldn't tell him; he daren't do, it he said, because his master had forbidden him. So the king gave him a good bit of money to drink his health, and bade him be sure and say all kind of pretty things, and many thanks for the present, to his master when he got home. Next day the cat went again into the wood, and jumped up on a red deer's head, and sat between his horns, and forced him to go to the palace. Then Peter went again into the kitchen, and said he was come with a little present for the king, if he would be pleased to take it. And the king was still more glad to get the red deer than he had been to get the reindeer, and asked again who it was that sent so fine a present. 'Why, it's Lord Peter, of course,' said the lad; but when the king wanted to know where Lord Peter lived, he got the same answer as the day before; and this day, too, he gave Peter a good lump of money to drink his health with. The third day the cat came with an elk. And so when Peter got into the palace kitchen, and said he had a little present for the king, if he'd be pleased to take it, the king came out at once into the kitchen; and when he saw the grand big elk, he was so glad he scarce knew which leg to stand on; and this day, too, he gave Peter many many more dollars -- at least a hundred. He wished now, once for all, to know where this Lord Peter lived, and asked and asked about this thing and that, but the lad said he daren't say, for his master's sake, who had strictly forbidden him to tell. 'Well, then,' said the king, 'beg Lord Peter to come and see me.' Yes, the lad would take that message; but when Peter got into the yard again, and met the cat, he said, 'A pretty scrape you've got me into now, for here's the king, who wants me to come and see him, and you know I've nothing to go in but these rags I stand and walk in.' 'Oh, don't be afraid about that,' said the cat. 'In three days you shall have coach and horses, and fine clothes, so fine that the gold falls from them, and then you may go and see the king very well. But mind, whatever you see in the king's palace, you must say you have far finer and grander things of your own. Don't forget that.' No, no, Peter would bear that in mind, never fear. So when three days were over, the cat came with a coach and horses, and clothes, and all that Peter wanted, and altogether it was as grand as any thing you ever set eyes on. So off he set, and the cat ran alongside the coach. The king met him well and graciously, but whatever the king offered him, and whatever he showed him, Peter said, 'twas all very well, but he had far finer and better things in his own house. The king seemed not quite to believe this, but Peter stuck to what he said, and at last the king got so angry, he couldn't bear it any longer. 'Now I'll go home with you,' he said, 'and see if it be true what you've been telling me, that you have far finer and better things of your own. But if you've been telling a pack of lies, Heaven help you, that's all I say.' 'Now, you've got me into a fine scrape,' said Peter to the cat, 'for here's the king coming home with me; but my home, that's not so easy to find, I think.' 'Oh! never mind,' said the cat. 'Only do you drive after me as I run before.' So off they set; first Peter, who drove after his cat, and then the king and all his court. But when they had driven a good bit, they came to a great flock of fine sheep, that had wool so long it almost touched the ground. 'If you'll only say,' said the cat to the shepherd, 'this flock of sheep belongs to Lord Peter when the king asks you, I'll give you this silver spoon,' which she had taken with her from the king's palace. Yes! He was willing enough to do that. So when the king came up, he said to the lad who watched the sheep, 'Well, I never saw so large and fine a flock of sheep in my life! Whose is it, my little lad?' 'Why,' said the lad, 'whose should it be but Lord Peter's?' A little while after they came to a great, great herd of fine brindled kine, who were all so sleek the sun shone from them. 'If you'll only say,' said the cat to the neat-herd, 'this herd is Lord Peter's, when the king asks you, I'll give you this silver ladle.' And the ladle too she had taken from the king's palace. 'Yes! with all my heart,' said the neat-herd. So when the king came up, he was quite amazed at the fine fat herd, for such a herd he had never seen before, and so he asked the neat-herd who owned those brindled kine. 'Why! who should own them but Lord Peter?' said the neat-herd. So they went on a little further, and came to a great, great drove of horses, the finest you ever saw, six of each color, bay, and black, and brown, and chestnut. 'If you'll only say this drove of horses is Lord Peter's when the king asks you,' said the cat, 'I'll give you this silver stoop.' And the stoop too she had taken from the palace. Yes! the lad was willing enough; and so when the king came up, he was quite amazed at the grand drove of horses, for the matches of such horses he had never yet set eyes on, he said. So he asked the lad who watched them, whose all these blacks, and bays, and browns, and chestnuts were? 'Whose should they be,' said the lad, 'but Lord Peter's?' So when they had gone a good bit farther, they came to a castle; first there was a gate of tin, and next there was a gate of silver, and next a gate of gold. The castle itself was of silver, and so dazzling white, that it quite hurt one's eyes to look at it in the sun beams which fell on it just as they reached it. So they went into it, and the cat told Peter to say this was his house. As for the castle inside, it was far finer than it looked outside, for everything was pure gold, -- chairs, and tables, and benches, and all. And when the king had gone all over it, and seen every thing high and low, he got quite shameful and downcast. 'Yes,' he said at last; 'Lord Peter has every thing far finer than I have, there's no gainsaying that.' And so he wanted to be off home again. But Peter begged him to stay to supper, and the king stayed, but he was sour and surly the whole time. So as they sat at supper, back came the troll who owned the castle, and gave such a great knock at the door. 'WHO'S THIS EATING MY MEAT AND DRINKING MY MEAD LIKE SWINE IN HERE?' roared out the troll. As soon as the cat heard that, she ran down to the gate. 'Stop a bit,' she said, 'and I'll tell you how the farmer sets to work to get in his winter rye.' And so she told him such a long story about the winter rye: 'First of all, you see, he ploughs his field, and then he dungs it, and then he ploughs it again, and then he harrows it.' And so she went on till the sun rose. 'Oh, do look behind you, and there you'll see such a lovely lady,' said the cat to the troll. So the troll turned round, and, of course, as soon as he saw the sun he burst. 'Now all this is yours,' said the cat to Lord Peter. 'Now, you must cut off my head; that's all I ask for what I have done for you.' 'Nay, nay,' said Lord Peter, 'I'll never do any such thing. That's flat.' 'If you don't,' said the cat, 'see if I don't claw your eyes out.' Well! so Lord Peter had to do it, though it was sore against his will. He cut off the cat's head, but there and then she became the loveliest princess you ever set eyes on, and Lord Peter fell in love with her at once. 'Yes! All this greatness was mine first,' said the princess, 'but a troll bewitched me to be a cat in your father's and mother's cottage. Now you may do as you please, whether you take me as your queen or not, for you are now king over all this realm.' Well, well; there was little doubt Lord Peter would be willing enough to have her as his queen, and so there was a wedding that lasted eight whole days, and a feast besides; and after it was over, I stayed no longer with Lord Peter and his lovely queen, and so I can't say anything more about them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Mighty Mikko,Finland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Parker Fillmore, Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy Tales and Folk Tales (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1922), pp. 25-45. Source (Internet Archive): Parker Fillmore, Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy Tales and Folk Tales (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1922), pp. 25-45.","There was once an old woodsman and his wife who had an only son named Mikko. As the mother lay dying the young man wept bitterly. 'When you are gone, my dear mother,' he said, 'there will be no one left to think of me.' The poor woman comforted him as best she could and said to him: 'You will still have your father.' Shortly after the woman's death, the old man, too, was taken ill. 'Now, indeed, I shall be left desolate and alone,' Mikko thought, as he sat beside his father's bedside and saw him grow weaker and weaker. 'My boy,' the old man said just before he died, 'I have nothing to leave you but the three snares with which these many years I have caught wild animals. Those snares now belong to you. When I am dead, go into the woods and if you find a wild creature caught in any of them, free it gently and bring it home alive.' After his father's death, Mikko remembered the snares and went out to the woods to see them. The first was empty and also the second, but in the third he found a little red fox. He carefully lifted the spring that had shut down on one of the fox's feet and then carried the little creature home in his arms. He shared his supper with it and when he lay down to sleep the fox curled up at his feet. They lived together some time until they became close friends. 'Mikko,' said the fox one day, 'why are you so sad?' 'Because I'm lonely.' 'Pooh!' said the fox. 'That's no way for a young man to talk! You ought to get married! Then you wouldn't feel lonely!' 'Married!' Mikko repeated. 'How can I get married? I can't marry a poor girl because I'm too poor myself and a rich girl wouldn't marry me.' 'Nonsense!' said the fox. 'You're a fine well set up young man and you're kind and gentle. What more could a princess ask?' Mikko laughed to think of a princess wanting him for a husband. 'I mean what I say!' the fox insisted. 'Take our own princess now. What would you think of marrying her?' Mikko laughed louder than before. 'I have heard,' he said, 'that she is the most beautiful princess in the world! Any man would be happy to marry her!' 'Very well,' the fox said, 'if you feel that way about her then I'll arrange the wedding for you.' With that the little fox actually did trot off to the royal castle and gain audience with the king. 'My master sends you greetings,' the fox said, 'and he begs you to loan him your bushel measure.' 'My bushel measure!' the king repeated in surprise. 'Who is your master and why does he want my bushel measure?' 'Ssh!' the fox whispered as though he didn't want the courtiers to hear what he was saying. Then slipping up quite close to the king he murmured in his ear: 'Surely you have heard of Mikko, haven't you? -- Mighty Mikko as he's called.' The king had never heard of any Mikko who was known as Mighty Mikko but, thinking that perhaps he should have heard of him, he shook his head and murmured: 'H'm! Mikko! Mighty Mikko! Oh, to be sure! Yes, yes, of course!' 'My master is about to start off on a journey and he needs a bushel measure for a very particular reason.' 'I understand! I understand!' the king said, although he didn't understand at all, and he gave orders that the bushel measure which they used in the storeroom of the castle be brought in and given to the fox. The fox carried off the measure and hid it in the woods. Then he scurried about to all sorts of little out of the way nooks and crannies where people had hidden their savings and he dug up a gold piece here and a silver piece there until he had a handful. Then he went back to the woods and stuck the various coins in the cracks of the measure. The next day he returned to the king. 'My master, Mighty Mikko,' he said, 'sends you thanks, O king, for the use of your bushel measure.' The king held out his hand and when the fox gave him the measure he peeped inside to see if by chance it contained any trace of what had recently been measured. His eye of course at once caught the glint of the gold and silver coins lodged in the cracks. 'Ah!' he said, thinking Mikko must be a very mighty lord indeed to be so careless of his wealth. 'I should like to meet your master. Won't you and he come and visit me?' This was what the fox wanted the king to say, but he pretended to hesitate. 'I thank your majesty for the kind invitation,' he said, 'but I fear my master can't accept it just now. He wants to get married soon and we are about to start off on a long journey to inspect a number of foreign princesses.' This made the king all the more anxious to have Mikko visit him at once for he thought that if Mikko should see his daughter before he saw those foreign princesses he might fall in love with her and marry her. So he said to the fox: 'My dear fellow, you must prevail on your master to make me a visit before he starts out on his travels! You will, won't you?' The fox looked this way and that as if he were too embarrassed to speak. 'Your majesty,' he said at last, 'I pray you pardon my frankness. The truth is you are not rich enough to entertain my master and your castle isn't big enough to house the immense retinue that always attends him.' The king, who by this time was frantic to see Mikko, lost his head completely. 'My dear fox,' he said, 'I'll give you anything in the world if you prevail upon your master to visit me at once! Couldn't you suggest to him to travel with a modest retinue this time?' The fox shook his head. 'No. His rule is either to travel with a great retinue or to go on foot disguised as a poor woodsman attended only by me.' 'Couldn't you prevail on him to come to me disguised as a poor woodsman?' the king begged. 'Once he was here, I could place gorgeous clothes at his disposal.' But still the fox shook his head. 'I fear your majesty's wardrobe doesn't contain the kind of clothes my master is accustomed to.' 'I assure you I've got some very good clothes,' the king said. 'Come along this minute and we'll go through them and I'm sure you'll find some that your master would wear.' So they went to a room which was like a big wardrobe with hundreds and hundreds of hooks upon which were hung hundreds of coats and breeches and embroidered shirts. The king ordered his attendants to bring the costumes down one by one and place them before the fox. They began with the plainer clothes. 'Good enough for most people,' the fox said, 'but not for my master.' Then they took down garments of a finer grade. 'I'm afraid you're going to all this trouble for nothing,' the fox said. 'Frankly now, don't you realize that my master couldn't possibly put on any of these things!' The king, who had hoped to keep for his own use his most gorgeous clothes of all, now ordered these to be shown. The fox looked at them sideways, sniffed them critically, and at last said: 'Well, perhaps my master would consent to wear these for a few days. They are not what he is accustomed to wear, but I will say this for him: he is not proud.' The king was overjoyed. 'Very well, my dear fox, I'll have the guest chambers put in readiness for your master's visit and I'll have all these, my finest clothes, laid out for him. You won't disappoint me, will you?' 'I'll do my best,' the fox promised. With that he bade the king a civil good day and ran home to Mikko. The next day as the princess was peeping out of an upper window of the castle, she saw a young woods man approaching accompanied by a fox. He was a fine stalwart youth, and the princess, who knew from the presence of the fox that he must be Mikko, gave a long sigh and confided to her serving maid: 'I think I could fall in love with that young man if he really were only a woodsman!' Later when she saw him arrayed in her father's finest clothes -- which looked so well on Mikko that no one even recognized them as the king's -- she lost her heart completely, and when Mikko was presented to her she blushed and trembled just as any ordinary girl might before a handsome young man. All the court was equally delighted with Mikko. The ladies went into ecstasies over his modest manners, his fine figure, and the gorgeousness of his clothes, and the old graybeard councilors, nodding their heads in approval, said to each other: 'Nothing of the coxcomb about this young fellow! In spite of his great wealth see how politely he listens to us when we talk!' The next day the fox went privately to the king, and said: 'My master is the man of few words and quick judgment. He bids me tell you that your daughter, the princess, pleases him mightily and that, with your approval, he will make his addresses to her at once.' The king was greatly agitated and began: 'My dear fox --' But the fox interrupted him to say: 'Think the matter over carefully and give me your decision tomorrow.' So the king consulted with the princess and with his councilors and in a short time the marriage was arranged and the wedding ceremony actually per formed! 'Didn't I tell you?' the fox said, when he and Mikko were alone after the wedding. 'Yes,' Mikko acknowledged, 'you did promise that I should marry the princess. But, tell me, now that I am married what am I to do? I can't live on here forever with my wife.' 'Put your mind at rest,' the fox said. 'I've thought of everything. Just do as I tell you and you'll have nothing to regret. Tonight say to the king: 'It is now only fitting that you should visit me and see for yourself the sort of castle over which your daughter is hereafter to be mistress!'' When Mikko said this to the king, the king was overjoyed for now that the marriage had actually taken place he was wondering whether he hadn't perhaps been a little hasty. Mikko's words reassured him and he eagerly accepted the invitation. On the morrow the fox said to Mikko: 'Now I'll run on ahead and get things ready for you.' 'But where are you going?' Mikko said, frightened at the thought of being deserted by his little friend. The fox drew Mikko aside and whispered softly: 'A few days' march from here there is a very gorgeous castle belonging to a wicked old dragon who is known as the worm. I think the worm's castle would just about suit you.' 'I'm sure it would,' Mikko agreed. 'But how are we to get it away from the worm?' 'Trust me,' the fox said. 'All you need do is this: lead the king and his courtiers along the main highway until by noon tomorrow you reach a crossroads. Turn there to the left and go straight on until you see the tower of the worm's castle. If you meet any men by the wayside, shepherds or the like, ask them whose men they are and show no surprise at their answer. So now, dear master, farewell until we meet again at your beautiful castle.' The little fox trotted off at a smart pace and Mikko and the princess and the king attended by the whole court followed in more leisurely fashion. The little fox, when he had left the main highway at the crossroads, soon met ten woodsmen with axes over their shoulders. They were all dressed in blue smocks of the same out. 'Good day,' the fox said politely. 'Whose men are you?' 'Our master is known as the worm,' the woodsmen told him. 'My poor, poor lads!' the fox said, shaking his head sadly. 'What's the matter?' the woodsmen asked. For a few moments the fox pretended to be too over come with emotion to speak. Then he said: 'My poor lads, don't you know that the king is coming with a great force to destroy the worm and all his people?' The woodsmen were simple fellows and this news threw them into great consternation. 'Is there no way for us to escape?' they asked. The fox put his paw to his head and thought. 'Well,' he said at last, 'there is one way you might escape and that is by telling every one who asks you that you are the Mighty Mikko's men. But if you value your lives never again say that your master is the worm.' 'We are Mighty Mikko's men!' the woodsmen at once began repeating over and over. 'We are Mighty Mikko's men!' A little farther on the road the fox met twenty grooms, dressed in the same blue smocks, who were tending a hundred beautiful horses. The fox talked to the twenty grooms as he had talked to the woodsmen and before he left them they, too, were shouting: 'We are Mighty Mikko's men!' Next the fox came to a huge flock of a thousand sheep tended by thirty shepherds all dressed in the worm's blue smocks. He stopped and talked to them until he had them roaring out: 'We are Mighty Mikko's men!' Then the fox trotted on until he reached the castle of the worm. He found the worm himself inside lolling lazily about. He was a huge dragon and had been a great warrior in his day. In fact his castle and his lands and his servants and his possessions had all been won in battle. But now for many years no one had cared to fight him and he had grown fat and lazy. 'Good day,' the fox said, pretending to be very breathless and frightened. 'You're the worm, aren't you?' 'Yes,' the dragon said, boastfully, 'I am the great worm!' The fox pretended to grow more agitated. 'My poor fellow, I am sorry for you! But of course none of us can expect to live forever. Well, I must hurry along. I thought I would just stop and say good-by.' Made uneasy by the fox's words, the worm cried out: 'Wait just a minute! What's the matter?' The fox was already at the door but at the worm's entreaty he paused and said over his shoulder: 'Why, my poor fellow, you surely know, don't you? that the king with a great force is coming to destroy you and all your people!' 'What!' the worm gasped, turning a sickly green with fright. He knew he was fat and helpless and could never again fight as in the years gone by. 'Don't go just yet!' he begged the fox. 'When is the king coming?' 'He's on the highway now! That's why I must be going! Good-by!' 'My dear fox, stay just a moment and I'll reward you richly! Help me to hide so that the king won't find me! What about the shed where the linen is stored? I could crawl under the linen and then if you locked the door from the outside the king could never find me.' 'Very well,' the fox agreed, 'but we must hurry!' So they ran outside to the shed where the linen was kept and the worm hid himself under the linen. The fox locked the door, then set fire to the shed, and soon there was nothing left of that wicked old dragon, the worm, but a handful of ashes. The fox now called together the dragon's household and talked them over to Mikko as he had the woodsmen and the grooms and the shepherds. Meanwhile the king and his party were slowly covering the ground over which the fox had sped so quickly. When they came to the ten woodsmen in blue smocks, the king said: 'I wonder whose woodsmen those are.' One of his attendants asked the woodsmen and the ten of them shouted out at the top of their voices: 'We are Mighty Mikko's men!' Mikko said nothing and the king and all the court were impressed anew with his modesty. A little farther on they met the twenty grooms with their hundred prancing horses. When the grooms were questioned, they answered with a shout: 'We are Mighty Mikko's men!' 'The fox certainly spoke the truth,' the king thought to himself, 'when he told me of Mikko's riches!' A little later the thirty shepherds when they were questioned made answer in a chorus that was deafening to hear: 'We are Mighty Mikko's men!' The sight of the thousand sheep that belonged to his son-in-law made the king feel poor and humble in comparison and the courtiers whispered among themselves: 'For all his simple manner, Mighty Mikko must be a richer, more powerful lord than the king himself! In fact it is only a very great lord indeed who could be so simple!' At last they reached the castle which from the blue smocked soldiers that guarded the gateway they knew to be Mikko's. The fox came out to welcome the king's party and behind him in two rows all the household servants. These, at a signal from the fox, cried out in one voice: 'We are Mighty Mikko's men!' Then Mikko in the same simple manner that he would have used in his father's mean little hut in the woods bade the king and his followers welcome and they all entered the castle where they found a great feast already prepared and waiting. The king stayed on for several days and the more he saw of Mikko the better pleased he was that he had him for a son-in-law. When he was leaving he said to Mikko: 'Your castle is so much grander than mine that I hesitate ever asking you back for a visit.' But Mikko reassured the king by saying earnestly: 'My dear father-in-law, when first I entered your castle I thought it was the most beautiful castle in the world!' The king was flattered and the courtiers whispered among themselves : 'How affable of him to say that when he knows very well how much grander his own castle is!' When the king and his followers were safely gone, the little red fox came to Mikko and said: 'Now, my master, you have no reason to feel sad and lonely. You are lord of the most beautiful castle in the world and you have for wife a sweet and lovely princess. You have no longer any need of me, so I am going to bid you farewell.' Mikko thanked the little fox for all he had done and the little fox trotted off to the woods. So you see that Mikko's poor old father, although he had no wealth to leave his son, was really the cause of all Mikko's good fortune, for it was he who told Mikko in the first place to carry home alive anything he might find caught in the snares.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Prince Csihan (Nettles),Hungary,NA,"Source (books.google.com): W. Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, The Folk-Tales of the Magyars: Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 1, pp. 1-6. Source (Internet Archive): W. Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, The Folk-Tales of the Magyars: Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 1, pp. 1-6.","There was once -- I don't know where, at the other side of seven times seven countries, or even beyond them, on the tumble-down side of a tumble-down stove -- a poplar-tree, and this poplar-tree had sixty-five branches, and on every branch sat sixty-six crows; and may those who don't listen to my story have their eyes picked out by those crows! There was a miller who was so proud that had he stepped on an egg he would not have broken it. There was a time when the mill was in full work, but once as he was tired of his mill-work he said, 'May God take me out of this mill!' Now, this miller had an auger, a saw, and an adze, and he set off over seven times seven countries, and never found a mill. So his wish was fulfilled. On he went, roaming about, till at last he found on the bank of the Gagy, below Martonos, a tumble-down mill, which was covered with nettles. Here he began to build, and he worked, and by the time the mill was finished all his stockings were worn into holes and his garments all tattered and torn. He then stood expecting people to come and have their flour ground; but no one ever came. One day the twelve huntsmen of the king were chasing a fox; and it came to where the miller was, and said to him: 'Hide me, miller, and you shall be rewarded for your kindness.' 'Where shall I hide you,' said the miller, 'seeing that I possess nothing but the clothes I stand in?' 'There is an old torn sack lying beside that trough,' replied the fox. 'Throw it over me, and, when the dogs come, drive them away with your broom.' When the huntsmen came they asked the miller if he had seen a fox pass that way. 'How could I have seen it; for, behold, I have nothing but the clothes I stand in?' With that the huntsmen left, and in a little while the fox came out and said, 'Miller, I thank you for your kindness; for you have preserved me, and saved my life. I am anxious to do you a good turn if I can. Tell me, do you want to get married?' 'My dear little fox,' said the miller, 'if I could get a wife, who would come here of her own free will, I don't say that I would not -- indeed, there is no other way of my getting one; for I can't go among the spinning-girls in these clothes.' The fox took leave of the miller, and, in less than a quarter of an hour, he returned with a piece of copper in his mouth. 'Here you are, miller,' said he. 'Put this away, you will want it ere long.' The miller put it away, and the fox departed; but, before long, he came back with a lump of gold in his mouth. 'Put this away, also,' said he to the miller, 'as you will need it before long.' 'And now,' said the fox, 'wouldn't you like to get married?' 'Well, my dear little fox,' said the miller, 'I am quite willing to do so at any moment, as that is my special desire.' The fox vanished again, but soon returned with a lump of diamond in his mouth. 'Well, miller,' said the fox, 'I will not ask you any more to get married; I will get you a wife myself. And now give me that piece of copper I gave you.' Then, taking it in his mouth, the fox started off over seven times seven countries, and travelled till he came to King Yellow Hammer's. 'Good day, most gracious King Yellow Hammer,' said the fox. 'My life and death are in your majesty's hands. I have heard that you have an unmarried daughter. I am a messenger from Prince Csihan, who has sent me to ask for your daughter as his wife.' 'I will give her with pleasure, my dear little fox,' replied King Yellow Hammer. 'I will not refuse her; on the contrary, I give her with great pleasure; but I would do so more willingly if I saw to whom she is to be married -- even as it is, I will not refuse her.' The fox accepted the king's proposal, and they fixed a day upon which they would fetch the lady. 'Very well,' said the fox; and, taking leave of the king, set off with the ring to the miller. ''Now then, miller,' said the fox, 'you are no longer a miller, but Prince Csihan, and on a certain day and hour you must be ready to start. But, first of all, give me that lump of gold I gave you that I may take it to His Majesty King Yellow Hammer, so that he may not think you are a nobody.' The fox then started off to the king. 'Good day, most gracious king, my father. Prince Csihan has sent this lump of gold to my father the king that he may spend it in preparing for the wedding, and that he might change it, as Prince Csihan has no smaller change, his gold all being in lumps like this.' 'Well,' reasoned King Yellow Hammer, 'I am not sending my daughter to a bad sort of place, for although I am a king I have no such lumps of gold lying about in my palace.' The fox then returned home to Prince Csihan. 'Now then, Prince Csihan,' said he, 'I have arrived safely, you see. Prepare yourself to start tomorrow.' Next morning he appeared before Prince Csihan. 'Are you ready?' asked he. 'Oh! yes, I am ready; I can start at any moment, as I got ready long ago.' With this they started over seven times seven lands. As they passed a hedge the fox said, 'Prince Csihan, do you see that splendid castle?' 'How could I help seeing it, my dear little fox.' 'Well,' replied the fox, 'in that castle dwells your wife.' On they went, when suddenly the fox said, 'Take off the clothes you have on, let us put them into this hollow tree, and then burn them, so that we may get rid of them.' 'You are right, we won't have them, nor any like them.' Then said the fox, 'Prince Csihan, go into the river and take a bath.' Having done so the prince said, 'Now I've done.' 'All right,' said the fox; 'go and sit in the forest until I go into the king's presence.' The fox set off and arrived at King Yellow Hammer's castle. 'Alas! my gracious king, my life and my death are in thy hands. I started with Prince Csihan with three loaded wagons and a carriage and six horses, and I've just managed to get the prince naked out of the water.' The king raised his hands in despair, exclaiming, 'Where hast thou left my dear son-in-law, little fox?' 'Most gracious king, I left him in such-and-such a place in the forest.' The king at once ordered four horses to be put to a carriage, and then looked up the robes he wore in his younger days and ordered them to be put in the carriage; the coachman and footman to take their places, the fox sitting on the box. When they arrived at the forest the fox got down, and the footman, carrying the clothes upon his arm, took them to Prince Csihan. Then said the fox to the servant, 'Don't you dress the prince, he will do it more becomingly himself.' He then made Prince Csihan arise, and said, 'Come here, Prince Csihan, don't stare at yourself too much when you get dressed in these clothes, else the king might think you were not used to such robes.' Prince Csihan got dressed, and drove off to the king. When they arrived, King Yellow Hammer took his son-in-law in his arms and said, 'Thanks be to God, my dear future son-in-law, for that he has preserved thee from the great waters; and now let us send for the clergyman and let the marriage take place.' The grand ceremony over, they remained at the court of the king. One day, a month or so after they were married, the princess said to Prince Csihan, 'My dear treasure, don't you think it would be as well to go and see your realm?' Prince Csihan left the room in great sorrow, and went towards the stables in great trouble-to get ready for the journey he could no longer postpone. Here he met the fox lolling about. As the prince came his tears rolled down upon the straw. 'Hollo! Prince Csihan, what's the matter?' cried the fox. 'Quite enough,' was the reply. 'My dear wife insists upon going to see my home.' 'All right,' said the fox; 'prepare yourself, Prince Csihan, and we will go.' The prince went off to his castle and said, 'Dear wife, get ready; we will start at once.' The king ordered out a carriage and six, and three wagons loaded with treasure and money, so that they might have all they needed. So they started off. Then said the fox, 'Now, Prince Csihan, wherever I go you must follow.' So they went over seven times seven countries. As they travelled they met a herd of oxen. 'Now, herdsmen,' said the fox, 'if you won't say that this herd belongs to the Vasfogu Bába, but to Prince Csihan, you shall have a handsome present.' With this the fox left them, and ran straight to the Vasfogu Bába. 'Good day, my mother,' said he. 'Welcome, my son,' replied she. 'It's a good thing for you that you called me your mother, else I would have crushed your bones smaller than poppy-seed.' 'Alas! my mother,' said the fox, 'don't let us waste our time talking such nonsense, the French are coming!' 'Oh! my dear son, hide me away somewhere!' cried the old woman. 'I know of a bottomless lake,' thought the fox; and he took her and left her on the bank, saying, 'Now, my dear old mother, wash your feet here until I return.' The fox then left the Vasfogu Bába, and went to Prince Csihan, whom he found standing in the same place where he left him. He began to swear and rave at him fearfully. 'Why didn't you drive on after me? come along at once.' They arrived at the Vasfogu's great castle, and took possession of a suite of apartments. Here they found everything the heart could wish for, and at night all went to bed in peace. Suddenly the fox remembered that the Vasfogu Bába had no proper abode yet, and set off to her. 'I hear, my dear son,' said she, 'that the horses with their bells have arrived; take me away to another place.' The fox crept up behind her, gave her a push, and she fell into the bottomless lake, and was drowned, leaving all her vast property to Prince Csihan. 'You were born under a lucky star, my prince,' said the fox, when he returned; 'for see I have placed you in possession of all this great wealth.' In his joy the prince gave a great feast to celebrate his coming into his property, so that the people from Bánczida to Zsukhajna were feasted royally, but he gave them no drink. 'Now,' said the fox to himself, 'after all this feasting I will sham illness, and see what treatment I shall receive at his hands in return for all my kindness to him.' So Mr. Fox became dreadfully ill, he moaned and groaned so fearfully that the neighbors made complaint to the prince. 'Seize him,' said the prince, 'and pitch him out on the dunghill.' So the poor fox was thrown out on the dunghill. One day Prince Csihan was passing that way. 'You a prince!' muttered the fox; 'you are nothing else but a miller; would you like to be a house-holder such as you were at the nettle-mill?' The prince was terrified by this speech of the fox, so terrified that he nearly fainted. 'Oh! dear little fox, do not do that,' cried the prince, 'and I promise you on my royal word that I will give you the same food as I have, and that so long as I live you shall be my dearest friend and you shall be honored as my greatest benefactor.' He then ordered the fox to be taken to the castle, and to sit at the royal table, nor did he ever forget him again. So they lived happily ever after, and do yet, if they are not dead. May they be your guests tomorrow!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,Puss in Boots,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"The Grimms' source: Jeanette Hassenpflug. This tale, because of its similarity to Charles Perrault's version, was omitted from all future editions of the Grimms' famous collection of fairy tales. Link to the original German text (zeno.org): Der gestiefelte Kater.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der gestiefelte Kater,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm (Berlin: In der Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), vol. 1, no. 33, pp. pp. 147-55.","When the miller died the three sons divided the inheritance: The oldest received the mill, the second the donkey, and the third the cat, for nothing else was left for him. Sadly he said to himself, 'I got the worst of everything. My oldest brother can grind grain, my second one can ride his donkey, but what can I do with the cat? If I have a pair of fur gloves made from his pelt, then there'll be nothing left.' 'Listen,' said the cat, who had understood everything that he had said. 'Don't kill me just to get a pair of inferior gloves from my pelt. Instead, have a pair of boots made for me so that I can go out and been seen by the people. Then I can come to your aid.' The miller's son was amazed that the cat could thusly speak. Now the cobbler was just passing by, so he called him in and had him measure the cat for a pair of boots. When they were finished the cat pulled them on, took a sack with a some grain in the bottom and a string with which it could be tied shut, threw it over his shoulder, and walked out the door on two legs, just like a human. The ruler in the land at that time was a king who loved partridges. However, none were to be had. The woods were full of them, but they were so wary that no hunter could get to them. The cat knew this, and worked out a solution. Arriving in the woods he opened the sack, spread out the grain inside it, then laid the string in the grass, leading it behind a thicket. Then he hid himself, crept into the thicket and watched. The partridges soon came by, found the grain, and one after the other hopped into the sack. When a good number were inside, the cat pulled the string shut, ran up and wrung the partridges' necks, then threw the sack over his shoulder and went straightaway to the king's palace. The guard shouted, 'Stop! Where to?' 'To the king,' answered the cat. 'Are you crazy? A cat going to the king?' 'Just let him go,' said another guard. 'The king is often bored. Perhaps the cat can entertain him with his tricks.' The cat approached the king, bowed politely, and said, 'My master, Count (and here he said a long and very distinguished name) extends his greetings to his majesty the king and sends him these partridges which he captured with snares.' The king was amazed to see such fine, fat partridges and hardly knew how to contain his joy. He ordered the cat to take as much gold from the treasury as he could carry in his sack, then said, 'Take it to you master and thank him many times for his gift.' The poor miller's son was at home sitting at the window with his head in his hands. He had given everything he had for the cat's boots, and now he wondered what he might get in return. Just then the cat stepped inside, threw the sack from his back, untied the string, and spread the gold out in front of the miller. 'Here is something for the boots. The king sends you his greetings and his thanks.' The miller was delighted with the wealth, although he could not understand where it had come from. While taking off his boots, the cat explained everything to him, then added, 'You now have plenty of money, but that's not enough. Tomorrow I'll pull my boots on again, and you shall become even more wealthy. I told the king that you are a count.' The next day, just as he said he would, the cat, appropriately booted, went hunting again and took the captured game to the king. Thus it continued every day, and every day the cat returned home with more gold. He was now so favored by the king that he was allowed to come and go as he pleased and to prowl around the palace wherever he wanted to. One time the cat was warming himself by the fire in the king's birchen when the coachman came in cursing, 'To the devil with the king and the princess! I wanted to go to the tavern for a drink and some card playing, but now I have to drive them to the lake.' After hearing this, the cat sneaked home and said to his master, 'If you want to become a wealthy count, come with me to the lake and go bathing there.' The miller did not know what he should say to this, but he obeyed the cat, went with him to the lake, took off all his clothes, and jumped into the water. The cat picked up the clothes, carried them away, and hid them. He had scarcely done so when the king came riding by. The cat cried out pitifully, 'Oh, your majesty! My master was bathing here in the lake when a thief came and stole his clothes that were lying here on the shore. Now the count cannot come out of the water. If he stays there any longer he will catch a cold and die.' Hearing this, the king came to a stop and sent one of his people back to fetch some of the king's clothes. The count then put on these splendid clothes. Because the king already favored him because of the partridges, he invited him into the royal carriage and spoke to him in familiar terms. The princess had nothing against this, for the count was young and good looking, and she quite liked him. Now the cat had run on ahead and had arrived at a great meadow where more than a hundred people were making hay. 'Whose meadow is this?' asked the cat. 'It belongs to the great sorcerer.' 'Listen, the king will soon come this way, and when he asks whose meadow this is, you must answer, 'It belongs to the count.' If you do not do this, you'll all be killed.' With that the cat went on further, coming to a field of grain so large that no one could see its end. More than two hundred people were there cutting the grain. 'Who owns this grain, you people?' 'The sorcerer.' 'Listen, the king will soon come this way, and when he asks whose grain this is, you must answer, 'It belongs to the count.' If you do not do this, you'll all be killed.' Finally the cat came to a magnificent forest. More than three hundred people were there felling the great oak trees and making lumber. 'Who owns this forest, you people?' 'The sorcerer.' 'Listen, the king will soon come this way, and when he asks whose forest this is, you must answer, 'It belongs to the count.' If you do not do this, you'll all be killed.' The cat continued on further. Everyone stared at him because he looked so unusual, walking along in boots like a human. And they were afraid of him. Soon he arrived at the sorcerer's place. He stepped boldly inside and walked up to the sorcerer, who looked at him scornfully. 'What do you want?' The cat bowed politely and said, 'I have heard that you can transform yourself any way that you please. I can well believe that you could transform yourself into an animal such as a dog, a fox, or even a wolf, but it seems to me that to transform yourself into an elephant would be quite impossible. I have come to see if you can do so.' The sorcerer said proudly, 'That's nothing for me,' and he instantly transformed himself into an elephant. The cat pretended to be frightened and said, 'That is unbelievable and unheard of. I would never have dreamed that you could do this. But even more difficult would be to transform yourself into a small animal, such as a mouse. You are certainly more powerful than any other sorcerer in the world, but that would be too much for you.' The sweet talk turned the sorcerer very friendly, and he said, 'Oh yes, my dear little cat, I can do that too,' then suddenly he was jumping around in the room as a mouse. The cat ran after him, caught him with one leap, and ate him up. Meanwhile, the king had ridden along further with the count and the princess, coming to the great meadow. 'Who owns this hay?' he asked. 'The count,' they all shouted. 'You have a beautiful piece of land here, Lord Count,' just as the cat had order them to do. Then they came to the great field of grain. 'Who owns this grain, you people?' 'The Lord Count. Yes, Lord Count, you have a wonderful farm here!' Then they came to the forest. 'Who owns this forest, you people?' 'The Lord Count.' The king was all the more amazed, and said, 'Lord Count, you must be a very wealthy man. I do not believe that I myself have such a magnificent forest.' Finally they arrived at the palace. The cat was standing on the steps, and when the carriage came to a stop he jumped down, opened the door, and said, 'Your majesty, you have arrived at the palace of my master, the count, and this honor will make him happy as long as he lives.' The king climbed out of the carriage and marveled at the magnificent building. It was almost larger and more beautiful than his own castle. The count then led the princess up the stairway and into the main hall, that shimmered with gold and precious stones. Then the princess and the count were married, and when the king died the count became king with cat-in-boots as his prime minister.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,The Clever Jackal,Kashmir,NA,"Source (books.google.com): J. Hinton Knowles Folk-Tales of Kashmir (London: Trübner, and Company, 1888), pp. 186-88. Source (Internet Archive): J. Hinton Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir (London: Trübner, and Company, 1888), pp. 186-88.","It was ploughing-time. A farmer started early for his fields, bidding his wife follow him soon with a pot of food. When the rice was ready the woman carried some to her husband, and put it down in the field at a little distance from him, saying, 'Here is your food. I cannot stay now.' In a little while, when the farmer went to look for his food, he found the pot empty. He was very angry at this, and when he got home in the evening sharply reproved his wife for playing tricks with him. She, of course, thought he was telling a lie, and felt very much aggrieved. On the following morning, before going out, he repeated his request that she would bring him some food, and not allow him to starve like a dog. That day she carried a double quantity of rice to him in a large earthen pot, and put it down in the field again, saying, 'Look now, here is your dinner. Don't say I did not bring it. I cannot stay, as there is nobody left to look after the house.' Thus saying, she went. In a little while a jackal came -- the same as came on the previous day and ate up the man's food -- and put its head into the pot. So eager was the beast to get at the rice, that it forced its head into the narrow neck of the pot, and could not take it out again. It was in a dreadful state. It ran about shaking its head and beating the pot against the ground to try and break it. At last the farmer saw what was the matter, and came running up with a knife, and exclaiming, 'You thief! You stole my dinner, did you?' 'Oh, let me go!' cried the jackal. 'Get me out of this pot and I will give you anything you may wish for.' 'Very well,' said the farmer, and at once smashed the pot and extricated the animal. 'Thank you,' said the jackal. 'You shall not regret today's adventure.' On this the beast wished the man 'Good-day,' and started for a king's palace some miles distant. 'O king,' it said on entering the royal chamber, 'give me permission and I will arrange for your daughter's marriage. Be not angry with me. I should not have presumed to speak to your majesty on this matter if I had not lately seen one who is worthy in every way of the hand of the princess.' 'You can bring the man here,' replied the king, 'and I will see him.' Then the jackal immediately started back for the farmer's house, and entering, asked him to prepare himself quickly for a visit to the king of the neighboring country, who was desirous of seeing him with a view of making him his son-in-law. At first the farmer demurred, on account of his ignorance and poverty. How would he know what to say to a king? How would he know how to behave in the company of so high a personage? And whence could he obtain suitable clothes for the visit But eventually the jackal prevailed on him to accept the king's invitation, and promised to help him in every possible way. So the jackal and the farmer started. When they arrived at the king's palace the jackal went in search of His Majesty, while the farmer squatted on the floor of the entrance-hall by the palace, where the shoes were kept, and waited. 'I have brought the man of whom I spoke to your majesty the other day,' said the jackal, going up to the king. 'He has come in ordinary clothes and without any retinue or show, as he thought your majesty would be inconvenienced by having to arrange accommodation for so many people. Your majesty must not be offended in this thing, but the rather should see in it a proof of the man's good sense.' 'Most certainly,' said the king, rising up. 'Lead me to him.' 'There he is,' said the jackal. 'What! That man squatting by the shoes?' exclaimed His Majesty. 'Friend, why do you sit in such a place?' he asked the farmer. 'It is a nice clean place, your majesty, and good enough for a poor man like me,' replied the farmer.' Observe the humility of the man,' interposed the jackal. 'You will stay in the palace this evening,' said the king. 'There are a few matters concerning which I wish to converse with you. Tomorrow, if convenient, I shall go and see your abode.' That evening the king, the farmer, and the jackal talked much together. As will be supposed, the farmer constantly betrayed his humble position, but the clever jackal contrived to arrange matters so that the king on the whole was rather favorable to the match. But what about the morrow? The jackal had been revolving the matter over in its mind during the night. As soon as the king and the farmer started it asked for permission to go on ahead. It ran as fast as it could to the farmer's house and set it on fire, and when they drew near, went forth to meet them, crying, 'O king, come not any farther, I beseech you. The man's house and property are destroyed. Some enemy's hand must have done this. Both of you turn back, I pray you.' So the poor simple king turned back. In due time he married his daughter to the ignorant farmer.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,The Earl of Cattenborough,Europe,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Joseph Jacobs Europa's Fairy Book: Restored and Retold (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), no. 11, pp. 90-97. Source (Internet Archive): Joseph Jacobs Europa's Fairy Book: Restored and Retold (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), no. 11, pp. 90-97.","Once upon a time there was a miller who had three sons, Charles, Sam, and John. And every night when the servant went to bed he used to call out: 'Good-night, missus; good-night, master; Good-night, Charles, Sam, John.' Now after a time the miller's wife died, and, soon after, the miller, leaving only the mill, the donkey, and the cat. And Charles, as the eldest, took the mill, and Sam took the donkey and went off with it, and John was left with only the cat. Now how do you think the cat used to help John to live? She used to take a bag with a string around the top and place it with some cheese in the bushes, and when a hare or a partridge would come and try to get the piece of cheese -- snap! Miss Puss would draw the string and there was the hare or partridge for Master Jack to eat. One day two hares happened to rush into the bag at the same time. So the cat, after giving one to Jack, took the other and went with it to the king's palace. And when she came outside the palace gate she cried out, 'Miaou.' The sentry at the gate came to see what was the matter. Miss Puss gave him the hare with a bow and said: 'Give this to the king with the compliments of the Earl of Cattenborough.' The king liked jugged hare very much and was glad to get such a fine present. Shortly after this Miss Puss found a gold coin rolling in the dirt. And she went up to the palace and asked the sentry if he would lend her a corn measure. The sentry asked who wanted it. And Puss said: 'My Master, the Earl of Cattenborough.' So the sentry gave her the corn measure. And a little while afterwards she took it back with the gold coin, which she had found, fixed in a crack in the corn measure. So the king was told that the Earl of Cattenborough measured his gold in a corn measure. When the king heard this he told the sentry that if such a thing happened again he was to deliver a message asking the Earl to come and stop at the palace. Some time after the cat caught two partridges, and took one of them to the palace. And when she called out, 'Miaou,' and presented it to the sentry, in the name of the Earl of Cattenborough, the sentry told her that the king wished to see the Earl at his palace. So Puss went back to Jack and said to him: 'The king desires to see the Earl of Cattenborough at his palace.' 'What is that to do with me?' said Jack. 'Oh, you can be the Earl of Cattenborough if you like. I'll help you.' 'But I have no clothes, and they'll soon find out what I am when I talk.' 'As for that,' said Miss Puss, 'I'll get you proper clothes if you do what I tell you; and when you come to the palace I will see that you do not make any mistakes.' So next day she told Jack to take off his clothes and hide them under a big stone and dip himself into the river. And while he was doing this she went up to the palace gate and said: 'Miaou, miaou, miaou!' And when the sentry came to the gate she said: 'My Master, the Earl of Cattenborough, has been robbed of all he possessed, even of his clothes, and he is hiding in the bramble bush by the side of the river. What is to be done? What is to be done?' The sentry went and told the king. And the king gave orders that a suitable suit of clothes, worthy of an Earl, should be sent to Master Jack, who soon put them on and went to the king's palace accompanied by Puss. When they got there they were introduced into the chamber of the king, who thanked Jack for his kind presents. Miss Puss stood forward and said: 'My Master, the Earl of Cattenborough, desires to state to your Majesty that there is no need of any thanks for such trifles.' The king thought it was very grand of Jack not to speak directly to him, and summoned his lord chamberlain, and from that time onward only spoke through him. Thus, when they sat down to dinner with the queen and the princess, the king would say to his chamberlain, 'Will the Earl of Cattenborough take a potato?' Whereupon Miss Puss would bow and say: 'The Earl of Cattenborough thanks his Majesty and would be glad to partake of a potato.' The king was so much struck by Jack's riches and grandeur, and the princess was so pleased with his good looks and fine dress that it was determined that he should marry the princess. But the king thought he would try and see if he were really so nobly born and bred as he seemed. So he told his servants to put a mean truckle bed in the room in which Jack was to sleep, knowing that no noble would put up with such a thing. When Miss Puss saw this bed she at once guessed what was up. And when Jack began to undress to get into bed, she made him stop, and called the attendants to say that he could not sleep in such a bed. So they took him into another bedroom, where there was a fine four-poster with a dais, and everything worthy of a noble to sleep upon. Then the king became sure that Jack was a real noble, and married him soon to his daughter the princess. After the wedding feast was over the king told Jack that he and the queen and the princess would come with him to his castle of Cattenborough, and Jack did not know what to do. But Miss Puss told him it would be all right if he only didn't speak much while on the journey. And that suited Jack very well. So they all set out in a carriage with four horses, and with the king's life-guards riding around it. But Miss Puss ran on in front of the carriage, and when she came to a field where men were mowing down the hay she pointed to the life-guards riding along, and said: 'Men, if you do not say that this field belongs to the Earl of Cattenborough those soldiers will cut you to pieces with their swords.' So when the carriage came along the king called one of the men to the side of it and said, 'Whose is this field?' And the man said, 'It belongs to the Earl of Cattenborough.' And the king turned to his son-in-law and said, 'I did not know that you had estates so near us.' And Jack said, 'I had forgotten it myself.' And this only confirmed the king in his idea about Jack's great wealth. A little farther on there was another great field in which men were raking hay. And Miss Puss spoke to them as before. So, when the carriage came up, they also declared that this field belonged to the Earl of Cattenborough. And so it went on through the whole drive. Then the king said, 'Let us now go to your castle.' Then Jack looked at Miss Puss, and she said: 'If your Majesty will but wait an hour I will go on before and order the castle to be made ready for you.' With that she jumped away and went to the castle of a great ogre and asked to see him. When she came into his presence she said: ' I have come to give you warning. The king with all his army is coming to the castle and will batter its walls down and kill you if he finds you here.' 'What shall I do? What shall I do?' said the ogre. 'Is there no place where you can hide yourself?' 'I am too big to hide,' said the ogre, but my mother gave me a powder, and when I take that I can make myself as small as I like.' 'Well, why not take it now?' said the cat. And with that he took the powder and shrunk into a little body no bigger than a mouse. And thereupon Miss Puss jumped upon him and ate him all up, and then went down into the great yard of the castle and told the guards that it now belonged to her Master the Earl of Cattenborough. Then she ordered them to open the gates and let in the king's carriage, which came along just then. The king was delighted to find what a fine castle his son-in-law possessed, and left his daughter the princess with him at the castle while he drove back to his own palace. And Jack and the princess lived happily in the castle. But one day Miss Puss felt very ill and lay down as if dead, and the chamberlain of the castle went to Jack and said: 'My lord, your cat is dead.' And Jack said: 'Well, throw her out on the dunghill.' But Miss Puss, when she heard it, called out: 'Had you not better throw me into the mill stream?' And Jack remembered where he had come from and was frightened that the cat would say. So he ordered the physician of the castle to attend to her, and ever after gave her whatever she wanted. And when the king died he succeeded him, and that was the end of the Earl of Cattenborough.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,The Feather King,Transylvania,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Joseph Haltrich, 'Der Federkönig,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen (Berlin: Vergag von Julius Springer, 1856), no. 13, pp. 63-67. Source (Internet Archive): Joseph Haltrich, 'Der Federkönig,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen (Berlin: Vergag von Julius Springer, 1856), no. 13, pp. 63-67.","Once upon a time there was a poor old couple working in the field, and they had their little child with them. He was lying in a hammock made of diapers hung on four sticks. One day a wildcat came out of the woods, took the child, and carried him away to her cave. She did not harm him, but rather brought him herbs, roots, and strawberries, so that he had what he needed. Thus the boy grew up in the cave, and when he came of age, the cat said to him, 'You shall marry the king's daughter.' 'But I am naked,' said the youth. 'How can I go before the king!' 'Don't worry, I'll get you some clothes.' Then the cat ran into the woods. She had a little silver whistle. She blew into it once, then hissed, and rustled. At once many birds and wild animals approached. From every bird she took one feather and made from them a robe, which she took to the youth. Then she led the youth to the animals, saying, 'I'm going now to the king. These animals must follow after you. Upon your arrival you are to say, 'Your majesty, the Feather King sends you this gift.'' Thus the youth went to the castle and said what the cat had told him to say. When the king saw the many animals, he rejoiced, and said, 'This must be a wealthy king!' The following day the cat sent the youth back with many more animals, instructing him to say, 'This is another gift from the Feather King!' The cat instructed him further: 'And when the king is amazed, and says that he would like his daughter to marry such a wealthy king, you are to reply, 'Yes, the Feather King will gladly marry your daughter. In three days he shall come for the wedding ceremony.'' And that is what happened when the youth returned to the castle. The king was pleased with the new gifts, was very amazed, and said how much he would like his daughter to marry such a wealthy king. The youth replied, as the cat had instructed him, that the Feather King would come in three days to be married. When the time was up, the cat ran back into the forest and blew three times on the silver whistle, then hissed and rustled three times the way cats do. Then all the birds and wild animals came together, and the cat chose the finest and most colorful feathers, and made a cloak from them. It glittered and sparkled like the starry sky. She gave it to the youth. This time the cat went with the youth to the king. When they were not far from the castle, she said to the youth, 'Now throw away your old feather robe. I will bring you beautiful clothes from the castle. You are to use the new feather robe only for decoration.' With that the cat ran into the castle, and cried out, 'Hurry! Bring me some royal clothing at once! The Feather King has fallen into a swamp and needs fresh clothes!' Then the king brought forth his best clothes, and the cat ran with them to the youth and dressed him. Thus he approached the castle, with all the animals following after him. Upon entering the castle, he put on the new feather robe, which glittered, and sparkled beyond belief. The king and the princess were overjoyed with the wealthy bridegroom. After the wedding ceremony the king said, 'I would like to see your country and your palace. I will go with you.' When the Feather King was seated with his young wife in the carriage, he kept looking at his own beautiful clothes and not at his wife. The cat noticed this, jumped onto his neck and scratched him once. 'Look at your wife!' she whispered. 'However, if you forget yourself, and you are asked why you are always looking at your beautiful clothes, just say that at home you have much more beautiful ones.' With that the cat ran on ahead. Soon the Feather King was looking at his beautiful clothes again. His young wife asked him, 'Why are you doing that?' He answered, 'Because at home I have much more beautiful ones.' Soon the cat came to a large flock of sheep. She ran to the shepherd and jumped onto his neck. Crack! She scratched him once and brought blood. 'If anyone asks you to whom this flock belongs, you must answer, 'To the Feather King.' Otherwise I'll come back and scratch you all to pieces.' When the king and the young couple arrived, the king asked the shepherd, 'Who owns this wonderful flock of sheep?' The shepherd said, 'They belong to the Feather King,' for he did not want to be scratched again. 'Yes, they are mine,' said the youth at once, for he saw what the cat had done. Soon afterwards they came to a large buffalo herd. The cat had already been there. Here too, she had scratched the herdsman, telling him that if he did not say that the herd belonged to the Feather King, she would scratch him to pieces.' When the king asked who owned this fine herd, the herdsman answered, 'It belongs to the Feather King,' for he did not want to be scratched again. 'Yes, it is mine!' said the youth in the carriage. The king was amazed and said, 'I would never have believed that you are so wealthy!' They also came to a herd of horses. The cat had been there as well, had scratched the herdsman, telling him when asked who owned the horses he was to say, 'The Feather King, of course.' Otherwise the cat would scratch him again. 'Yes, they are mine as well!' said the youth in the carriage. 'You must be even more wealthy than I am,' said the king. 'And at home everything must be even more beautiful than at my castle.' They soon arrived at the sorcerer's palace. Everything was made of gold and silver, crystal and precious stones, and displayed ever so beautifully. The table was set. They seated themselves at once and began to eat. The cat, however, stood at the doorway and kept watch. The sorcerer suddenly appeared, storming and shouting, 'There are robbers in my palace! And seated at my table! Aha! Woe unto you! The cat was standing in the doorway and would not let him enter. She said, 'Are you truly the great sorcerer that everyone says you are? They say that you can transform yourself into animals both large and small.' 'There's nothing to that!' said the sorcerer, then at once transformed himself into a lion. The frightened cat jumped onto the roof. 'That was a good trick!' shouted the cat. 'But now I'd like to see if you can transform yourself into a small animal -- into a mouse. There's no way that you can do that. The sorcerer immediately transformed himself into a mouse, and the cat instantly jumped down from the roof and ripped him to pieces. She then called the youth out of the hall and said to him, 'You no longer need my help. The castle and everything inside it and surrounding it are yours, including the great herds that you have seen. It's all really yours now, for I have killed the sorcerer to whom everything belonged. Now I demand one service from you: Take your sword and cut off my head.' The youth refused to do this, saying, 'How could I be so thankless!' 'If you don't do it immediately, I'll scratch out your eyes!' So he took his sword, and with one blow the cat's head flew off. But behold, in that instant a beautiful woman stood before him. The youth took her by the arm and led her in to the table, then said, 'This is my mother!' The old king liked the woman very much, and because his first wife had died he took her by the hand and said, 'Should we not get married?' She was not opposed to this, and the celebration lasted eight days. Then the old king returned home with his new wife. The youth remained in the magic castle with the princess and was richer than seven kings.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,The Match-Making Jackal,India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Lal Behari Day, Folk-Tales of Bengal (London: Macmillan and Company, 1883), no. 18, pp. 226-35. Source (Internet Archive): Lal Behari Day, Folk-Tales of Bengal (London: Macmillan and Company, 1883), no. 18, pp. 226-35.","Hard by the hut was the lair of a jackal. The jackal, remembering the wealth and grandeur of the weaver's forefathers, had compassion on him, and one day coming to him, said, 'Friend weaver, I see what a wretched life you are leading. I have a good mind to improve your condition. I'll try and marry you to the daughter of the king of this country.' 'I become the king's son-in-law!' replied the weaver. 'That will take place only when the sun rises in the west.' 'You doubt my power?' rejoined the jackal. 'You will see, I'll bring it about.' The next morning the jackal started for the king's city, which was many miles off. On the way he entered a plantation of the piper betel plant, and plucked a large quantity of its leaves. He reached the capital, and contrived to get inside the palace. On the premises of the palace was a tank in which the ladies of the king's household performed their morning and afternoon ablutions. At the entrance of that tank the jackal laid himself down. The daughter of the king happened to come just at the time to bathe, accompanied by her maids. The princess was not a little struck at seeing the jackal lying down at the entrance. She told her maids to drive the jackal away. The jackal rose as if from sleep, and instead of running away, opened his bundle of betel-leaves, put some into his mouth, and began chewing them. The princess and her maids were not a little astonished at the sight. They said among themselves, 'What an uncommon jackal is this! From what country can he have come? A jackal chewing betel-leaves! Why thousands of men and women of this city cannot indulge in that luxury. He must have come from a wealthy land.' The princess asked the jackal, 'Sivalu [A name for a jackal, not unlike Reynard in Europe], from what country do you come? It must be a very prosperous country where the jackals chew betel-leaves. Do other animals in your country chew betel-leaves?' 'Dearest princess,' replied the jackal, 'I come from a land flowing with milk and honey. Betel-leaves are as plentiful in my country as the grass in your fields. All animals in my country -- cows, sheep, dogs -- chew betel-leaves. We want no good thing.' 'Happy is the country,' said the princess, 'where there is such plenty, and thrice happy the king who rules in it!' 'As for our king,' said the jackal, 'he is the richest king in the world. His palace is like the heaven of Indra. I have seen your palace here; it is a miserable hut compared to the palace of our king.' The princess, whose curiosity was excited to the utmost pitch, hastily went through her bath, and going to the apartments of the queen-mother, told her of the wonderful jackal lying at the entrance of the tank. Her curiosity being excited, the jackal was sent for. When the jackal stood in the presence of the queen, he began munching the betel-leaves. 'You come,' said the queen, 'from a very rich country. Is your king married?' 'Please your majesty, our king is not married. Princesses from distant parts of the world tried to get married to him, but he rejected them all. Happy will that princess be whom our king condescends to marry!' 'Don't you think, Sivalu,' asked the queen, 'that my daughter is as beautiful as a Peri, and that she is fit to be the wife of the proudest king in the world?' 'I quite think,' said the jackal, 'that the princess is exceedingly handsome; indeed, she is the handsomest princess I have ever seen; but I don't know whether our king will have a liking for her.' 'Liking for my daughter!' said the queen.' You have only to paint her to him as she is, and he is sure to turn mad with love. To be serious, Sivalu, I am anxious to get my daughter married. Many princes have sought her hand, but I am unwilling to give her to any of them, as they are not the sons of great kings. But your king seems to be a great king. I can have no objection to making him my son-in-law.' The queen sent word to the king, requesting him to come and see the jackal. The king came and saw the jackal, heard him describe the wealth and pomp of the king of his country, and expressed himself not unwilling to give away his daughter in marriage to him. The jackal after this returned to the weaver and said to him, 'O lord of the loom, you are the luckiest man in the world. It is all settled; you are to become the son-in-law of a great king. I have told them that you are yourself a great king, and you must behave yourself as one. You must do just as I instruct you. otherwise your fortune will not only not be made, but both you and I will be put to death.' 'I'll do just as you bid me,' said the weaver. The shrewd jackal drew in his own mind a plan of the method of procedure he should adopt, and after a few days went back to the palace of the king in the same manner in which he had gone before, that is to say, chewing betel-leaves and lying down at the entrance of the tank on the premises of the palace. The king and queen were glad to see him, and eagerly asked him as to the success of his mission. The jackal said, 'In order to relieve your minds I may tell you at once that my mission has teen so far successful. If you only knew the infinite trouble I have had in persuading his Majesty, my sovereign, to make up his mind to marry your daughter, you would give me no end of thanks. For a long time he would not hear of it, but gradually I brought him round. You have now only to fix an auspicious day for the celebration of the solemn rite. There is one bit of advice, however, which I, as your friend, would give you. It is this. My master is so great a king that if he were to come to you in state, attended by all his followers, his horses and his elephants, you would find it impossible to accommodate them all in your palace or in your city. I would therefore propose that our king should come to your city, not in state, but in a private manner; and that you send to the outskirts of your city your own elephants, horses, and conveyances, to bring him and only a few of his followers to your palace.' 'Many thanks, wise Sivalu, for this advice. I could not possibly make accommodation in my city for the followers of so great a king as your master is. I should be very glad if he did not come in state; and trust you will use your influence to persuade him to come in a private manner; for I should be ruined if he came in state.' The jackal then gravely said, 'I will do my best in the matter,' and then returned to his own village, after the royal astrologer had fixed an auspicious day for the wedding. On his return the jackal busied himself with making preparations for the great ceremony. As the weaver was clad in tatters, he told him to go to the washermen of the village and borrow from them a suit of clothes. As for himself, he went to the king of his race, and told him that on a certain day he would like one thousand jackals to accompany him to a certain place. He went to the king of crows, and begged that his corvine majesty would be pleased to allow one thousand of his black subjects to accompany him on a certain day to a certain place. He preferred a similar petition to the king of paddy-birds. At last the great day arrived. The weaver arrayed himself in the clothes which he had borrowed from the village washermen. The jackal made his appearance, accompanied by a train of a thousand jackals, a thousand crows, and a thousand paddy-birds. The nuptial procession started on their journey, and towards sundown arrived within two miles of the king's palace. There the jackal told his friends, the thousand jackals, to set up a loud howl; at his bidding the thousand crows cawed their loudest; while the hoarse screechings of the thousand paddy-birds furnished a suitable accompaniment. The effect may be imagined. They all together made a noise the like of which had never been heard since the world began. While this unearthly noise was going on, the jackal himself hastened to the palace, and asked the king whether he thought he would be able to accommodate the wedding-party, which was about two miles distant, and whose noise was at that moment sounding in his ears. The king said 'Impossible, Sivalu; from the sound of the procession I infer there must be at least one hundred thousand souls. How is it possible to accommodate so many guests? Please, so arrange that the bridegroom only will come to my house.' 'Very well,' said the jackal; 'I told you at the beginning that you would not be able to accommodate all the attendants of my august master. I'll do as you wish. My master will alone come in undress. Send a horse for the purpose.' The jackal, accompanied by a horse and groom, came to the place where his friend the weaver was, thanked the thousand jackals, the thousand crows and the thousand paddy-birds, for their valuable services, and told them all to go away, while he himself, and the weaver on horseback, wended their way to the king's palace. The bridal party, waiting in the palace, were greatly disappointed at the personal appearance of the weaver; but the jackal told them that his master had purposely put on a mean dress, as his would-be father-in-law declared himself unable to accommodate the bride groom and his attendants coming in state. The royal priests now began the interesting ceremony, and the nuptial knot was tied for ever. The bridegroom seldom opened his lips, agreeably to the instructions of the jackal, who was afraid lest his speech should betray him. At night when he was lying in bed he began to count the beams and rafters of the room, and said audibly, 'This beam will make a first-rate loom, that other a capital beam, and that yonder an excellent sley.' The princess, his bride, was not a little astonished. She began to think in her mind, 'Is the man, to whom they have tied me, a king or a weaver? I am afraid he is the latter; otherwise why should he be talking of weaver's loom, beam, and sley? Ah, me! Is this what the fates kept in store for me?' In the morning the princess related to the queen-mother the weaver's soliloquy. The king and queen, not a little surprised at this recital, took the jackal to task about it. The ready-witted jackal at once said, 'Your Majesty need not be surprised at my august master's soliloquy. His palace is surrounded by a population of seven hundred families of the best weavers in the world, to whom he has given rent-free lands, and whose welfare he continually seeks. It must have been in one of his philanthropic moods that he uttered the soliloquy which has taken your Majesty by surprise.' The jackal, however, now felt that it was high time for himself and the weaver to decamp with the princess, since the proverbial simplicity of his friend of the loom might any moment involve him in danger. The jackal therefore represented to the king, that weighty affairs of state would not permit his august master to spend another day in the palace; that he should start for his kingdom that very day with his bride; and his master was resolved to travel incognito on foot, only the princess, now the queen, should leave the city in a palki. After a great deal of yea and nay, the king and queen at last consented to the proposal. The party came to the outskirts of the weaver's village. The palki hearers were sent away; and the princess, who asked where her husband's palace was, was made to walk on foot. The weaver's hut was soon reached, and the jackal, addressing the princess, said, 'This, madam, is your husband's palace.' The princess began to beat her forehead with the palms of her hands in sheer despair. 'Ah, me! Is this the husband whom Prajapati [the god who presides over marriages] intended for me? Death would have been a thousand times better.' As there was nothing for it, the princess soon got reconciled to her fate. She, however, determined to make her husband rich, especially as she knew the secret of becoming rich. One day she told her husband to get for her a pice-worth of flour. She put a little water in the flour, and smeared her body with the paste. When the paste dried on her body, she began wiping the paste with her fingers; and as the paste fell in small balls from her body, it got turned into gold. She repeated this process every day for some time, and thus got an immense quantity of gold. She soon became mistress of more gold than is to be found in the coffers of any king. With this gold she employed a whole army of masons, carpenters and architects, who in no time built one of the finest palaces in the world. Seven hundred families of weavers were sought for and settled round about the palace. After this she wrote a letter to her father to say that she was sorry he had not favored her with a visit since the day of her marriage, and that she would be delighted if he now came to see her and her husband. The king agreed to come, and a day was fixed. The princess made great preparations against the day of her father's arrival. Hospitals were established in several parts of the town for diseased, sick, and infirm animals. The beasts in thousands were made to chew betel-leaves on the wayside. The streets were covered with Cashmere shawls for her father and his attendants to walk on. There was no end of the display of wealth and grandeur. The king and queen arrived in state, and were infinitely delighted at the apparently bound less riches of their son-in-law. The jackal now appeared on the scene, and saluting the king and queen, said -- 'Did I not tell you?'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,The Monkey and Juan Pusong Tambi-Tambi,Philippines,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania; and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 48A, pp. 326-32. Source (Internet Archive): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania; and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 48A, pp. 326-32.","Tiring-tirang was a barrio in the town of Tang-Tang, situated at the foot of a hill which was called 'La Campana' because of its shape. Around the hill, about a mile from the barrio, flowed the Malogo River, in which the people of the town used to bathe. It so happened that one time an epidemic broke out in the community, killing off all the inhabitants except one couple. This couple had an only son named Juan Pusong Tambi-Tambi. When Juan had reached his twelfth year, his father died. Consequently the boy had to go to work to earn money for the support of himself and his mother. At first Juan followed the occupation of his father, that of fisherman; but, seeing that he made little money from this, he decided to become a farmer. His mother had now reached the age of seventy (!), and was often sick. Juan frequently had to neglect his farm in order to take care of her. One day Juan went to Pit-Pit to buy medicine for his mother. On his way to the town he saw a flock of crows eating up his corn. He paid no attention to the birds; but on his way back, when he saw these same birds still eating his corn, he became angry. He picked up a stone about the size of his fist, and crept into a bush near by. He had hardly hidden himself when the birds heard a rustling, and began to fly off. Juan jumped up, and hurled his stone with such accuracy and force that one of the crows fell dead to the ground. He tied the dead crow to a bamboo pole, and planted it in the middle of his corn field. No sooner was he out of sight than the crows flew back to the field again; but when they saw their dead companion, they flew off, and never troubled Juan again. For six months Juan had no trouble from birds. He did not know, however, that not far from his field there was a monkey (chongo) living in a large tree. This monkey used to come to his field every day and steal two or three ears of corn. One day, as Juan was walking across his field, he saw many dead cornstalks. He said to himself, 'I wonder who it is that comes here and steals my corn! I am no longer troubled by birds; and yet I find here many husks.' He went home and made an image of a crooked old man like himself. This he covered with sticky wax. He placed it in the middle of the field. The next morning, when the sun was shining very brightly, the monkey felt hungry, so he ran towards the field to steal some corn to eat. There he saw the statue. Thinking that it was Juan, he decided to ask permission before he took any corn. 'Good-morning, Juan!' said the monkey in a courteous tone; but the image made no reply. 'You are too proud to bend your neck, Juan,' continued the monkey. 'I have only come to ask you for three or four ears of corn. I have not eaten since yesterday, you know; and if you deny me this request, I shall die before morning.' The waxen statue still stood motionless. 'Do you hear me, Juan?' said the monkey impatiently. Still the statue made no reply. 'Since you are too proud to answer me, I will soon give you some presents. Look out!' he cried, and with his right paw he slapped the statue which he thought was Juan; but his paw stuck to the wax, and he could not get free. 'Let my hand loose!' the monkey shouted, 'or you will get another present.' Then he slapped the statue with his left paw, and, as before, stuck fast. 'You are foolish, Juan. If you do not let me go this very moment, I'll kick you.' He did so, first with one foot, and then with the other. At last he could no longer move, and he began to curse the statue. Juan, who had been hiding in a bush near by, now presented himself, and said to the monkey, 'Now I have caught you, you thief!' He would have killed the monkey at once, had not the monkey begged for mercy, and promised that he would at some future time repay him for his kindness if he would only spare his life. So Juan set the monkey free. It was now the month of April. The monkey, impatient to fulfil his word to Juan, went one day to the field, and there he found Juan hard at work. 'Good-morning, Master Juan!' he cried. 'I see that you are busy.' 'Busy indeed!' replied Juan. 'Master Juan, do you want to marry the king's daughter? If you do, I'll arrange everything for you,' said the monkey. Juan replied, 'Yes,' little thinking that what the monkey promised could be true. The monkey scampered off towards the market. When he entered the market, he saw a boy counting his money. The monkey pretended to be looking in the other direction, but walked towards the boy. When he saw that the money was fairly within his reach, he seized it and ran back to Juan. After telling his master what he had done, the monkey went to the king's palace, and said, 'Sir, my master, Juan, wants to borrow your ganta, for he desires to measure his money.' The king gave him the ganta. In three days the monkey appeared at the palace again to return the measure, in the bottom of which he stuck three centavos. 'My master, Juan, thanks you for your kindness,' said the monkey. The monkey was about to leave the room when the king perceived the three centavos sticking to the bottom of the measure. 'Here, monkey, here are your three cents!' said the king. 'Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!' answered the monkey, laughing, 'my master cares not for three cents. He has too much money. He is very, very rich.' The king was much surprised to hear that there was a man richer than himself. Two weeks later the monkey returned to the palace again, and said, 'Pray, king, my master, Juan, desires to borrow your ganta again. He wants to finish measuring his money.' The king was filled with curiosity; and he said, 'I'll let you borrow the ganta, monkey, but you must tell me first who is this Juan whom you call your master.' 'My master, Juan,' replied the monkey, 'is the richest man in the world.' Before giving the measure to the monkey, the king went to his room and stuck four pieces of gold on the four corners of the ganta. 'I'll find out who is the richer, Juan or I,' he said to himself. The monkey took the measure, and left the hall with a polite bow. As he was walking towards Juan's farm, the monkey noticed the four pieces of gold sticking to the corners of the ganta. He knew that they had been artfully placed there by the king himself. Two weeks later he went back to the palace to return the measure, not forgetting to stick a gold dollar on each corner. 'Good-afternoon, king!' said he, 'my master, Juan, returns you your ganta with a thousand thanks.' 'Very well,' replied the king; 'but tell me all about this master of yours who measures his money. I am a king; still I only count my money.' The monkey remained silent. Not receiving a prompt reply, the king turned to Cabal, one of his lords, and said in a whisper, 'Do you know who this Juan is who measures his money?' 'I have not heard of him,' replied the lord, 'except from this monkey and yourself.' The king then turned to the monkey, and said, 'Monkey, if you don't tell me who your master is, where he lives, and all about him, I'll hang you.' Doubtless the king was jealous of Juan because of his great wealth. Fearing that he would lose his life, the monkey said to the king, 'My master, Juan, the richest and best man in the world, lives in the town of XYZ. He goes to church every morning wearing his striped (tambi-tambi) clothes. This is why he is known among his people as Juan Pusong Tambi-Tambi. If you will just look out of your window tomorrow morning, you will see him pass by your garden.' The king's anger was appeased by this explanation. Early the next morning he was at his window, anxious to get a glimpse of Juan. He had not been there long when his attention was attracted by the appearance of a crooked man dressed in striped clothes. 'This must be the man whom the monkey described to me yesterday,' he said to himself. Soon his servant entered the room, and said, 'The monkey desires to see you.' The king left the window and went to where the monkey was waiting for him. As soon as the monkey saw the king, he bowed politely, and said, 'My master, Juan, sends me to tell you frankly that he loves your daughter, and that, if it pleases you, he will marry her.' At first the king was angry to hear these words; but, being very desirous to get more money, he at last consented without even asking his daughter. 'If my master does not call on you today, he will surely come tomorrow.' So saying, the monkey left the palace, and ran about town, trying to think of some way he might escape the great danger he was in. It so happened that an old man who was carrying a bundle of clothes to his son in the mountains passed along the same road where the monkey was. The sun was very hot, so the old man decided to rest under a leafy tree. No sooner was he seated there than the cunning monkey climbed the tree, and shook the branches with such force that twigs and fruits fell all around the old man. Panic-stricken, he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him, leaving everything behind him. When the man was out of sight, the monkey climbed down the tree, picked up the bundle of clothes, and carried it to Juan. 'Tomorrow, Juan,' said the monkey, 'you will marry the princess. I'll arrange everything for you if you will only follow my advice.' Half doubting and half believing, Juan asked the monkey if he really meant what he said. 'What do you think of me?' asked the monkey. Without waiting for a reply from Juan, the monkey left the hut, and ran towards the home of the Burincantadas who lived on the summit of the hill. As soon as he entered the gate, he began to scoop up the ground as fast as he could. The Burincantadas, who at that very moment were looking out of the window, saw the monkey. They rushed downstairs, and, half frightened, said to him, 'What are you trying to do?' 'Why, our king has been defeated in the war. The enemies have already taken possession of the crown. The princess is dead, and it is said that everybody will be killed before to morrow noon,' replied the monkey, his teeth chattering. 'I am resolved to hide myself under the ground to save my life.' The three Burincantadas seized him by the arm, and said, 'For mercy's sake, have pity on us! Tell us where we can hide!' They were already trembling with fear. 'Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! let me loose! The enemy are coming!' On hearing these words, the Burincantadas all shouted at once, 'Tell us where to hide!' 'If you will not let me scoop out a hole here, I'll jump into the well,' said the monkey in a hoarse voice. As soon as the Burincantadas heard the word 'well,' they all ran as fast as they could, following the monkey. 'Let me jump first!' said the monkey. 'No, let us jump first!' shouted the Burincantadas; and so they did. The monkey made a motion as if he were going to follow; but, instead, he lifted up the biggest stone he could find and threw it down the well. 'They are dead,' he said to himself, laughing. 'Ah, I have caught you! Ha, ha!' The Burincantadas now being dead, the monkey was at leisure to decide what to do next. He entered their palace, and there he found everything magnificent. 'This is the very place where my master shall live!' He opened the first room, but there he found nothing but bones. He closed the door and opened the second, where he found many prisoners who were waiting to be eaten. He set them all free, and told them to clean up the palace at once. The prisoners set to work, not forgetting to thank the monkey for his kindness. Before he left the palace, he addressed the crowd as follows: 'My brothers and sisters, if any one comes and asks you who your master is, tell him that he is Don Juan Pusong Tambi-Tambi.' Then he left the crowd of people busy cleaning the palace, and went to the farm, where he found thousands of horses, cows, and sheep. 'My master is indeed rich,' he said to himself. He called the shepherd who was lying under the tree, and said to him, 'Tell your other companions that, if any one comes and asks whose animals these are, they must answer that they all belong to Don Juan Pusong. Don Juan is your master now.' After seeing that everything was in order, the monkey hastened to his master, who was still ploughing, and said, 'Throw away your plough. Let's go to the king's palace, for tonight you will be married to the princess Doña Elena.' Night came. The palace was splendidly adorned. The princess was sitting by her father, when Don Juan, dressed in his striped clothes and accompanied by the monkey, entered the gate of the palace. Soon the priest came, and the princess was called to the reception-hall. When she saw her bridegroom, she ran away in despair, and cried to her father, 'Father, how dare you accept as my husband such a base, dirty, crooked man! Look at him! Why, he is the meanest of the mean.' But the king replied, 'He is rich. If you don't marry him, I'll punish you very severely.' The princess had to obey her father; but, before giving her hand to Juan Pusong, she said, 'O God! let me die.' When the marriage ceremony was over, the king called the monkey, and asked, 'Where is the couple going to live?' 'In Don Juan's palace,' was the reply of the monkey. The king immediately ordered carriages to be gotten ready. Then they started on their journey. Four hours passed, and still no palace was to be seen. The king became impatient, and said to the monkey, 'Monkey, if what you have said to me is not true, your head shall answer for your lie.' Hardly had he said these words when he beheld before him a number of men watching a herd of cattle. 'I wonder who owns these, monkey!' said the king. The monkey made some signs, and soon three shepherds came running up to them. 'Good-evening, king!' they said. 'Good-evening!' replied the king. 'Whose cattle are these?' 'They are all owned by Don Juan Pusong,' said the shepherds. The king nodded, and said to himself, 'He is truly rich.' The palace was now in sight. The king could hardly express his joy on seeing such a magnificent building. 'Why, it is not a palace: it is heaven itself,' he said. They were now upstairs. The king, on seeing still more beauties, said, 'I confess, I am not the richest man on earth.' Soon he died of joy, and his body was placed in a golden coffin and buried in the church. The couple inherited his dominion; but Queen Elena could not endure her ugly husband, and two weeks later she died broken-hearted. So Juan was left as sole ruler of two kingdoms. The monkey became his chief minister. This story shows that a compassionate man oftentimes gets his reward.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,The Palace That Stood on Golden Pillars,Sweden,"Link to the tale in the original Swedish (books.google.com): Gunnar Olof Hyltén-Cavallius and George Stephens, 'Slottet, som stod på Guld-stolpar,' Svenska Folk-Sagor och Äfventyr: Efter Muntlig Öfverlemning, part 1, vol. 1 (Stockholm: På A. Bohlins Förlag, 1844), no. 12, pp. 179-88. Link to the tale in the original Swedish (Internet Archive): Gunnar Olof Hyltén-Cavallius and George Stephens, 'Slottet, som stod på Guld-stolpar,' Svenska Folk-Sagor och Äfventyr: Efter Muntlig Öfverlemning, part 1, vol. 1 (Stockholm: På A. Bohlins Förlag, 1844), no. 12, pp. 179-88. Link to additional tales (type 704) about testing a woman's quality by placing a small object under her mattress: The Princess and the Pea.","Source (books.google.com): Benjamin Thorpe, Yule-Tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions, from the Swedish, Danish, and German (London: Henry G.Bohn, 1853), pp. 64-71. Source (Internet Archive): Benjamin Thorpe, Yule-Tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions, from the Swedish, Danish, and German (London: Henry G.Bohn, 1853), pp. 64-71.","There was once a peasant, who with his wife lived very, very far in the woods. They had two children, a boy and a girl. They were very poor, all their wealth consisting in a cow and a cat. This peasant and his wife lived in a state of constant strife with each other, and you might have been sure, that if the old man desired one thing, the old woman always desired another. It happened one day that the old woman had boiled some porridge for supper, and when it was ready, and each had received a share, the old man would scrape the pot. This the old woman opposed with all her might, asserting that the right of scraping belonged to her, and her only. Hence a desperate quarrel ensued, neither being willing to yield to the other. The end was, that the old woman snatched up the pot and the ladle and ran off, the old man with a whip following close at her heels. And away they went over hill and dale, the old woman first, and the old man close behind her; but our history does not inform us which of the two finally obtained the scraping of the pot. When a considerable time had elapsed, and no tidings were heard of their parents, the children had no alternative but to go out into the wide world and seek their fortune. So they resolved on leaving their habitation, and dividing their inheritance. But, as it generally happens, the division was a mighty difficult affair; there being nothing to divide save the cow and the cat, and both being desirous of having the cow. While they were discussing the point, the cat, with a most insinuating mien, approaching the sister, gently rubbed her knee, and mewed: 'Take me, take me.' So, as the boy would not let go the cow, the girl gave up her pretension and contented herself with the cat. They then parted from each other, the boy with the cow going his way, and the girl with her cat wandering through the wood; but of her and her companion's adventures nothing has been related to me, until they came to a spacious and splendid palace, which lay at some distance before them. While both travelers were on their way to the beautiful palace, the cat began to converse with his mistress, and said: 'If you will follow my advice, it shall bring you luck.' The girl, who placed great confidence in her companion's prudence, promised to follow his directions. The cat thereupon desired her to take off her old garments, and climb up into a high tree, while he would go to the palace and say, that there was a princess, who had been attacked by robbers and stripped both of property and clothes. The girl did accordingly, threw off her old rags and placed herself in the tree. The cat then went; but the girl sat in a great fright, as to how the matter would turn out. When the king, who ruled the land, was informed that a foreign princess had suffered such violence, he was exceedingly troubled, and sent his servants to invite her to the palace. The young girl was now abundantly supplied with costly attire, and whatever else she required, and accompanied the royal messengers. On arriving at the palace, all were struck with her beauty and courteous manners; but the king's son paid her the most marked homage, and declared that he could not live without her. The queen, however, had her suspicions, and asked the beautiful princess where her residence was. The girl answered as she had been instructed by the cat: 'I dwell very far from here, in a castle called Cattenburg.' Still the old queen was not satisfied, but resolved with herself to ascertain whether the strange damsel were really a king's daughter or not. For this purpose she went to the guest-chamber, and made ready a bed for the peasant girl with soft silken bolsters, but laid secretly a bean under the sheet; 'Because,' thought she, ' if she is a princess, she cannot fail to notice it.' The young girl was then conducted to her apartment with great state. But the cat had observed the queen's stratagem, and apprized his mistress of it. In the morning, the old queen entered, and inquired how her guest had passed the night. The girl answered as the cat had instructed her: 'All, yes, I have slept, for I was very weary after my journey; but it seemed as if I had a large mountain under me. I slept much better in my bed at Cattenburg.' The queen now thought that the damsel must have been delicately bred; yet resolved on making one more trial. On the following evening the queen went again to the guest-chamber, and having prepared the peasant girl's bed as before, laid some peas under the first pillow; and when it was morning, entered and inquired of her guest how she had slept. But, following the cat's instructions, she answered: 'Ah, yes, I have slept, for I was very tired; but it seemed as if I had large stones under me. I slept much better in my bed at Cattenburg.' The old queen now thought that she had well stood the trial, yet could not entirely dismiss her suspicions, and therefore determined on a third attempt, for the purpose of finding out whether the strange damsel really were of such high birth as she pretended to be. When the third evening came, the queen went again to the guest-chamber, and, having prepared the bed as before, laid a straw under the second pillow; and when the queen came in the morning and inquired how she had slept, she again answered as the cat had instructed: 'Ah, yes, I have slept; for I was very tired; but it seemed as if I had a large tree under me. I was much better served at Cattenburg.' The queen now found that there was no sure way of arriving at the truth in this manner, and therefore resolved on keeping watch how the strange damsel conducted herself in other respects. On the following day the queen sent to her guest a costly dress, embroidered with silk, and with a very, very long train, such as were worn by women of high rank. The peasant girl thanked her for the present, and thought no more about it; but the cat, that was close at her elbow, apprized his mistress that the old queen would put her to another trial. When some time had passed, the queen sent to inquire whether the princess would accompany her on a walk. The peasant girl consented, and they set out. On entering a garden, the court ladies were very fearful lest they should soil their dresses, as it had rained during the night. But the strange damsel continued walking, with out heeding whether her long train was being dragged through the mud or not. Whereupon the queen said: 'My dear princess, take care of your dress.' To which the peasant girl proudly answered: 'Oh, there must be more dresses to be had here besides this. I had much better when I was in my castle at Cattenburg.' Now the old queen could not think otherwise than that the damsel was accustomed to wear silk-embroidered garments, and thence concluded that she must be a king's daughter; so could no longer entertain any objection to her son's marriage, to which the peasant girl also gave her consent. It happened one day, as the prince and his beloved were sitting conversing together, that the damsel, on looking through the window, saw her parents come running out of the wood, the old woman first with the pot, and the old man close at her heels with the ladle. At the sight the girl could not contain herself, but burst out into a loud laugh. On the prince inquiring why she laughed so heartily, she said, as the cat had instructed her: 'I cannot help laughing when I think that your palace stands on stone pillars, while mine stands on golden ones.' When the prince heard this he was greatly surprised, and said: 'Your thoughts are always dwelling on the beautiful Cattenburg, and you seem to think that all things are better there than with us. We will go and see your splendid palace, let the distance be ever so great.' At this the peasant's daughter was so alarmed that she would willingly have sunk into the earth, knowing well that she had not a house, much less a palace. But there being no remedy, she put a good face on the matter, saying that she would consider on what day they should commence their journey. When she found herself alone, she gave free vent to her trouble, and wept bitterly; for she thought of all the disgrace that would fall on her for her deceit and falsehood. While she thus sat and wept, in walked the sagacious cat, rubbed himself against her knee, and inquired the cause of her sorrow. 'I may well be sorrowful,' answered the peasant's daughter; 'for the king's son says that we shall go to Cattenburg; so now I am like to pay dearly for having followed thy counsel.' But the cat bade her be of good cheer, and added, that he would so manage matters, that everything should turn out better than she could imagine; at the same time telling her that the sooner they set out the better. Having had already so many proofs of the cat's wisdom, she followed his instructions, though this time with a heavy heart; for she could not free herself from the apprehension that their journey would have an unfortunate termination. Early on the following morning, the king's son ordered chariots and drivers, and everything besides which he thought necessary for their long journey to Cattenburg. The train then set out. The prince and his betrothed went first in a gilded chariot, attended by a numerous body of knights and squires; while the cat ran foremost of all to show them the way. After travelling for some time, the cat perceived some goatherds driving to the field a large flock of most beautiful goats; so going up to the men, he greeted them courteously, saying: 'Good day, goatherds! When the king's son rides by and inquires to whom those fine goats belong, you must say they belong to the young princess at Cattenburg, who rides by the prince's side. If you do so, you shall be well rewarded; but if not, I will tear you in pieces.' On hearing this the goatherds were much surprised, but promised to obey the cat's bidding. He then pursued his way. Shortly after came the king's son riding with all his train. On seeing such beautiful goats feeding in the field, he stopped his chariot, and inquired of the herdsmen to whom they belonged. They answered, as the cat had instructed them: 'They belong to the young princess at Cattenburg, who rides by your side.' At this the king's son wondered greatly, and thought that his betrothed must be a powerful princess; and the peasant girl was not a little glad at heart, and thought that she was not the losing party, when she divided the inheritance with her brother. They now continued their journey, the cat running foremost. After travelling for some time they came to where a number of persons were making hay in a pleasant field. These the cat saluted very courteously, saying as before: 'Good day, good people! When the king's son comes by and inquires to whom this beautiful meadow belongs, you must answer that it belongs to the princess at Cattenburg, who rides by the prince's side. If you do so, you shall be well rewarded; but if you do not do as I have said, I will tear you to atoms.' When the men heard this they were greatly surprised, and promised to say what the cat desired. The cat then ran on as before. Shortly after came the king's son in his chariot with his whole retinue. On seeing the fertile fields and the number of people, he caused his chariot to stop, and inquired who was the owner of the land. The men, following the cat's instructions, answered: 'The fields belong to the young princess at Cattenburg, who rides by your side.' The king's son was now yet more surprised, and thought that his bride must be immensely rich, seeing that she owned such beautiful hay-fields. Resuming their journey, and preceded by the cat, they approached at length a very extensive corn-field, which swarmed with men and women, all busily employed in reaping. Here the cat again ran forth, enjoining and threatening as on the former occasions; so that when the prince came by and inquired to whom the fields belonged, he received an answer similar to the foregoing. It was now late in the evening, and the prince stopped with his attendants for the purpose of resting during the night. But the cat took no rest, but ran hastily forwards, until he saw a beautiful castle with its towers and battlements, and supported by golden pillars. This splendid palace belonged to a fierce giant, who owned the entire neighboring country; but was at that time absent from home. The cat therefore passed through the castle gate, and transformed himself into a large loaf; then stationed himself in the key-hole, and awaited the giant's return. Early in the morning, before the dawn, the frightful giant, who was so huge and heavy that the earth shook under him as he walked, came jogging out of the forest. When he came to the castle gate, he could not open it, because of the great loaf that stuck in the key-hole. Thereupon he became exceedingly angry, and cried: ' Unlock! unlock!' To which the cat answered: 'Just wait a little, little moment, while I tell my story: 'First they kneaded me as if they would knead me to death.' 'Unlock! unlock!' cried the giant again; but the cat answered as before: 'Just wait a little, little moment, while I tell my story: 'First they kneaded me as if they would knead me to death; Then they floured me as if they would flour me to death.' 'Unlock! unlock!' vociferated the giant in a towering passion; but the cat repeated: 'Just wait a little, little moment, while I tell my story: Then they floured me as if they would flour me to death; Then they pricked me as if they would prick me to death.' The giant was now beside himself with rage, and roared out so that the whole castle shook: 'Unlock! unlock!' But the cat was not to be moved, and answered as before: 'Just wait a little moment, while I tell my story: 'First they kneaded me as if they would knead, me to death; Then they pricked me as if they would prick me to death; Then they baked me as if they would bake me to death.' The giant now felt uneasy, and cried out quite gently: 'Unlock! unlock!' but all in vain; the loaf remained quiet in the key-hole as before. At the same moment the cat cried out: 'Only see what a beautiful girl is riding up in the sky!' As the Troll looked up, the sun had just risen above the forest, at the sight of which he fell back and split into shivers. Such was his end. The loaf then transformed itself again into a cat, and hastened to set everything in order for his guests. After some time, the king's son and his fair young bride arrived with all their train. The cat went out to receive them, and bid them welcome to Cattenburg. They were now entertained most sumptuously, and there was wanting neither meat nor drink, nor any costly luxury. The noble castle was full of gold and silver, and all kinds of precious things, such as the like was never seen before or since. Shortly after the marriage was solemnized between the prince and the fair young maiden; and all who saw her wealth, thought she had good reason for saying: 'I had it otherwise in my castle at Cattenburg.' The king's son and the peasant's daughter lived happily together for very many years; but I have never heard how it fared with the cat; though we may almost guess that he wanted for nothing.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
545B,The Weaver,India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Alice Elizabeth Dracott, Simla Village Tales; or, Folk Tales from the Himalayas (London: John Murray, 1906), pp. 125-31. Source (Internet Archive): Alice Elizabeth Dracott, Simla Village Tales; or, Folk Tales from the Himalayas (London: John Murray, 1906), pp. 125-31.","One day he cooked some kitcherie [a dish made of rice and lentils cooked together with clarified butter or ghee, and then boiled], and, placing it in a plate, left it to get cool, and went out to sell his cloth. While he was away a jackal came and ate up the kitcherie; and on his return he found the jackal, so he tied it up and beat it severely. Then he cooked some bread, which he ate, and again beat the jackal. The poor creature thought: 'Now my life will go, if this man keeps on beating me in this way.' When the man next went out to dispose of his cloth, the jackal, tied up by itself, felt very lonely, especially as it could hear its companions howling in the jungles; so it began to howl too, and, hearing it, one of its friends came to see where it was, and finding it, said: 'Brother, what are you doing here?' The poor jackal, bruised all over and swollen with the beating it had received, replied: 'Friend, a man has caught me, and takes the greatest care of me; see how fat I have grown with eating all the hulwa-poories [another native dainty made with sugar, etc.] he gives me. If you will release me, I will tie you here, and you will get a share of the good things.' So the two exchanged places, and the first jackal ran back gladly into the jungles. On the return of the weaver he, as usual, began to beat the poor creature, who then spoke, and said: 'Why are you beating me?' The weaver, surprised, replied: 'I have never heard this jackal speak before!' 'That one has gone, and he tied me here in his place, and told me I should get all sorts of good things to eat; but if you will release me, I will arrange a marriage with a king's daughter for you.' 'What!' said the man, 'I am only a poor weaver, and can you really get me married to a king's daughter?' 'Yes,' returned the jackal. So the weaver released it, and turning itself into a Brahmin, it crossed the river and presented itself at the court of a certain rajah, to whom it said: 'O king, I have found a rich weaver-caste rajah, who wishes your daughter's hand in marriage.' The rajah, much pleased, consented, and the Brahmin, on getting outside the palace, once more turned into a jackal, and returned to the weaver. 'Follow me,' said he, 'and I will take you to the king's daughter.' So the weaver took up his blanket, which was all he possessed. On their way they met a dhobie, or washerman, carrying his bundle of clothes. The jackal gave him a gold mohur, and told him to spread all the clean clothes he possessed upon the trees around. Further on they met a cotton-beater, or man who, in the East, beats cotton and prepares it to make up into pillows and quilts; to him they also gave a gold mohur, and asked in return for several large balls of cotton. These they carried on a large plate to the river; and the jackal, leaving the weaver, returned as a Brahmin to the rajah, who had seen the dhobie's clothes in the distance, and thought they were tents pitched by his daughter's future husband. The jackal had told the weaver to watch, and, as soon as he saw him enter the Palace, he was to take large lumps of cotton and throw them one by one into the river, so that they might be seen floating down the stream. 'The bridegroom,' explained the Brahmin, ' has met with a terrible accident; all his possessions and his followers are lost in the river, and only he and I remain, dressed in the clothes in which we stand.' Then the rajah ordered his musicians and followers to come out, and go with horses in great pomp to bring the weaver, who was forthwith married to the princess. After the marriage the Brahmin said: 'This son-in-law of yours has lost all he had; what is the use of his returning to his country? Let him stay here with you.' To this the rajah, who loved his daughter, gladly consented, and gave them a fine house and grounds. Now the weaver, who was not accustomed to good society, or to living with those above his station in life, made a salaam, or obeisance, such as a poor man is wont to do, to his wife every morning, and she began to suspect that he had deceived her, and was not a real rajah. So she asked him one day to tell her the whole truth about himself, and he did so. 'Well,' said she, 'you have owned it to me, but do not let my father or mother know; for now that I am married to you, things cannot be altered, and it is better that they should remain in ignorance; but whatever my father may ask you to do, promise me that you will do it, always answering 'Yes, I will,' to anything he may suggest.' To this the weaver agreed; and shortly afterwards the rajah called him and enquired if he was willing to help him, and, as promised, the man replied, 'Yes, I will.' Then he went to his wife and told her, and she commended him. Next day the king told him that two brothers, by name 'Darya' and ' Barjo,' threatened to fight and take his kingdom from him, and he desired his son-in-law to go to the stables and select a horse on which to ride on the morrow to battle. In the stables was a horse that was standing on three legs. 'This,' thought the weaver, 'will just suit me, for it seems lame and has only three legs to go on, and making this an excuse, I'll keep behind all the rest, and out of danger.' Now this horse used to eat a quarter of a pound of opium daily, and could fly through the air, so that when the rajah heard of the selection he was very delighted, and said to himself: 'What a clever man this is, that he is able to discover which is the best horse!' The day following he had the horse brought round, and mounted it in fear and trembling, having himself securely tied on lest he should fall off, while, to weight himself equally, he fastened a small millstone on either side. As soon as the groom released the horse, it flew up into the air, then down again, and then up through the branches of trees, which broke off and clung to the weaver's arms and body, so that he presented a strange spectacle. He was terrified, and kept on crying out: 'O Darya! Barjo! for your sakes have I come to my death.' The two princes, Darya and Barjo, seeing this strange horse flying through the air, and hearing their names coming from a queer object all covered with branches of trees, were very much alarmed, and said: 'If more come like this, we shall indeed be lost; one is enough for us.' So they wrote to the king, and said: 'We have seen your warrior; stay in your country, and we will stay in ours. We cannot fight.' And they sent him a peace-offering.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
570,Jesper the Hare Herder,Denmark,NA,"Evald Tang Kristensen, 'Jesper Harehyrde,' Æventyr fra Jylland (Copenhagen: Karl Schønbergs Boghandel, 1881), no. 10, pp. 73-83.","There was a king who had half a hundred hares. He also had a daughter who was exceptionally beautiful. Many suitors came to her, but none succeeded, for her father had decreed that he would give her in marriage only to the person who could tend half a hundred hares for three days in the woods, bringing them all back to the palace every evening. Anyone who attempted to do this, but failed, should have three strips of skin cut from his back, with salt and pepper sprinkled into the wound. He would then be banished from the land or be fined five hundred thalers. In spite of these harsh conditions a number of suitors tried their luck, but none of them succeeded. Now there was a man who had three sons: Povl, Per, and Jesper, and they wanted to try their luck. Povl, the oldest, presented himself first, and was accepted into service. The next morning he went out with the hares. As soon as they had closed the gate the king said, 'You must take care of them,' but they were hard animals to care for, because as soon as they were outside they scattered in all directions. Povl saw no more of them, although he ran hither and thither, both far and wide. He had brought a snack with him from the palace, so when he got hungry he sat down to eat. Then an old woman came up to him and said, 'Won't you give me a bite from your snack, little chap?' 'No, I won't. I don't have enough for myself,' he said. 'Just be on your way.' 'Yes, I'll have to be off again,' she said, and went on her way.' After Povl had eaten, he of course again began to think about collecting the hares. 'It doesn't look good,' he said to himself. 'How shall I find the hares and gain control over them?' He ran, and he sought, but he could not round up the hares, and in the evening he came back to the palace empty-handed. Then three strips of skin were cut from his back; pepper and salt were sprinkled into the wound; and finally he was banished from the land, for he had no money to pay the fine. At home his parent heard the news, and they were very discouraged. Nonetheless, Per, the second brother, wanted to try his luck as well. He reported to the palace and was also accepted into service. The king told him that he was to take care of the hares as soon as the gate was opened. But the next morning when they opened the gate, whoosh, the hares scattered to all four corners of the world. And, briefly stated, it did not go one whit better with him than with his brother. The same old woman came to him and asked for food, but he also said to her, 'No, be on your way. There's nothing here for you.' In the end, three strips of skin were cut from his back; pepper and salt were sprinkled into the wound; and he was banished from the land. The old parents were terribly angered to learn this. But then Jesper, the youngest son, came to them and asked permission to try his luck. He felt sure that luck would be with him and that he would win the princess. Until now he had never asked anything of them. The mother, in truth, held him in the highest esteem, so he was allowed to set forth. Approaching the palace, Jesper met the king behind the barn, but he did not know that it was the king. Jesper said, 'Will you go in to the king, greet him from me, and tell him that I would like to serve here as the hare herder?' Why?' asked the king. 'The king has proclaimed that the one who can tend his fifty hares for three days shall have his daughter to wife, and I would like to have her. 'So that's it,' said the king, 'but do you also know, that if you cannot tend them, three strips of flesh will be cut from your back? And you should know straightaway that I am king.' And thus the situation was decided. Jesper's service was to begin the next day. The hares were driven out, and as soon as the gate was opened, whoosh, they scattered in all directions, and not a trace of them was to be seen anywhere. 'This is crazy,' thought Jesper. 'What kind of hares are these? How is this going to end?' He wandered about in the woods with his lunch-bucket under his arm looking for the hares. Growing tired and hungry, he sat under a tree to eat his snack, when the old woman came up to him and asked if he would not give her a little piece of bread. 'Yes,' he said, 'you may as well eat my entire snack. I probably cannot eat anyway, and here is a big piece of meat; you may have it as well.' What is the matter with you?' she asked. 'Oh, I have taken on myself to win the princess, and now all the hares have run away. I cannot find them, and because of that I must now be banished from the land and never again see my father and mother.' 'Right, but we can find some help for you, because you were so good to me. But let's eat first.' When they had finished, she took the gnawed bone and gave it back to him, saying, 'I have made a flute from it, and when you blow into one end you can bring all the hares to you whether they are ever so far away or whether they are than under lock and key, if they are still alive. But if you blow into the other end, they will run away again to all corners of the world so fast that no one can get hold of them. You must always keep the flute with you, and if you use it right, you probably will have the good fortune to win the princess.' Then the old woman said farewell and thank you, and went her way. 'Thanks also to you,' said Jesper and I can believe that he was glad for this flute, thinking that his difficulties were now over. As soon as the old woman was gone he gave it a try, and everything went well enough. When he blew into one end, all fifty hares came running up to him at once, and when he blew into the other end, they fled away like the wind. When it was evening he blew hares together, and dancing around him they entered the king's gate. The king himself came out to count them, and they were all there. Then he went to the queen and talked to her about what should be done. 'We cannot let it be known that such a fellow is getting our daughter.' They put their heads together, and at last the king said that the next day the princess should disguise herself and go out to him and seek to buy a hare from him Thus he would be lacking one when they were counted. In the morning when the hares were let out they ran away as usual, but Jesper thought, 'Let the critters run. I'll win the princess anyway.' Soon afterward, while he was lost in his own thoughts, a ragged urchin girl came to him and asked if she could not buy one of his hares. Her parents, she said, had guests and nothing fresh to offer them. 'No, I cannot sell you one,' he said, 'for they are not my own, and I need a full count in the evening when I get home.' Yes, she knew that, but still she asked what he would take for one. Finally he said, 'If I lose the princess it would be the worst thing that could befall me, but if you must have one, you will have to give me a kiss for it.' Yes, she agreed to do this, and she gave him what he asked for. Then he blew the hares together and gave her one of them in her apron. She made her way homeward, happy about the arrangement that she had made, but just as she reached the gate, Jesper blew on his flute, and whoosh, the hare jumped from her apron and was gone. With a sad face the princess went to her mother and told her what had happened. But she said nothing at all about the kiss. So there was another discussion as to what should be done, and the king and the queen together decided that the queen should go out and give it a try. So that afternoon, disguised in old clothes, she went out into the woods to Jesper and asked if she could not buy a hare. 'No,' he said, that was not possible, for they were not his own. She begged and promised so well that he finally agreed to let her have one. He blew the hares together, picked up one of them by its hind legs, and said, 'If you want this one you will have to lift up its tail and kiss its behind.' The queen thought that this was disgusting, but she would have to go through with it rather than to let her daughter marry such a fellow and be plagued with him throughout her life. Furthermore, no one would see her do it. So she got the hare, put it in a sack, and walked toward home with the sack on her back. But just as she was entering the gate Jesper blew on his flute, and whish, the hare jumped from the sack, leaving her standing there with a very sad face. Then she went to the king and told him part of what had happened, adding, 'Now you yourself must go there, and do better than we have done. It is all about our daughter's happiness. 'Yes,' said the king, 'but let us see what happens this evening. It could be that he will not bring all of them home.' But, in fact, he was tired of the game. 'Am I some miserable wretch who cannot keep hold of a hare?' he thought. That evening Jesper blew his hares together, and they obediently followed him to the palace grounds. The king came down and counted them, and they were all there. Well, the third day arrived, and Jesper went out with his hares. A little later the king, disguised as a huntsman and riding a dapple-gray horse, went out as well. Meeting Jesper, he said, 'You have many hares out here.' 'Yes, I have half a hundred,' said Jesper. 'Would it be possible for me to see one of them.' 'Yes.' Jesper blew on his flute, and all the hares came running up to him.. 'Could I buy one of them?' asked the huntsman. 'No, that's not possible,' said Jesper, 'for they are not my own. They belong to the king, and I have agreed to the conditions that if I do not keep all of them, then I will be banished from the land and punished further as well.' 'Oh, it won't be that bad for you,' said the huntsman. 'I will pay you whatever you ask for.' 'I agree with that,' said Jesper 'Stand by your horse and kiss it right under its tail, and then I'll give you a hare.' The king turned as red in the face as an angry turkey-cock. It was terrible that such a simple oaf would dare to say such a thing to him. But he held his temper and thought, 'If no one sees it, there will be no shame in it. I'll do what he says.' So he stood by the horse, lifted up its tail, and kissed the beast right in its behind. Afterward he got the hare and put it in his saddlebag, which he buckled tightly shut. 'It will stay there,' he thought. But just as he arrived at the gate and was about to ride through, Jesper gave his flute a little tweet and whish, the hare was gone. 'He is a dangerous lad,' thought the king, and he was quite abashed that he had had no better luck than the others. That evening the lad came home with the hares at his heels, jumping and dancing. It was a delight. The king came down and counted them, and of course they were all there. In the meantime the queen and the princess had spoken to the king, claiming that Jesper's task had been too easy. The king agreed with them, so after the hares had been counted, he said to Jesper, 'By rights you should have my daughter, but I find that you have won her too easily. You must admit that she will bring you great happiness. Therefore it is not unjust that one of these days I should give you a new test. If you can fulfill it, you shall have my daughter. So it shall be.' Of course Jesper was not pleased with this, but because he could do nothing about it, he decided that the best thing would be to accept it cheerfully. Now the new task was to be extremely difficult, so there was to be a council to judge it. The king issued an invitation to all the princes and great lords who were unmarried to a grand feast when he would give his daughter away. They came from far and near, and gathered in the palace on the appointed day. After all the guests had eaten, the king commanded that a large brewing vat be placed in the middle of the room. Then he said, 'Now, princes and lords, bear witness that the one of you who can tell this vat full of truths, he shall have my daughter.' Then they began to tell stories, one after the other, but nothing came from the contest. Finally the king said, 'Yes, we probably should have called on Jesper the hare herder. Let him try his luck.' So it was Jesper's turn. He was not very good at storytelling, he said, but that could not be helped, so he would just relate how it went the other day when he was looking after the king's hares for the first time: 'A girl in ragged clothes came to me and wanted to get a hare from me. She begged long and hard, finally promising to give me a kiss for one. She got the hare, and I got the kiss. And this girl was the princess, is that not so?' They all looked at the princess, and she turned red in the face, but then stood up and said yes. 'Do you want to hear more?' asked the boy. 'Yes, the vat is not yet full,' said the king. So he continued: 'In the afternoon of the same day an old woman came to me, and she too wanted to get a hare from me. At first I said no, but she kept begging, and finally I promised her a hare on the condition that she kiss its behind, and she did it too. And that woman was the queen. ' 'What are you saying?' cried the king. He stood up, and they all stood up as all. 'Oh, never mind, let him have our daughter,' said the queen. Everyone stared at her, and the boy said, 'Is it not true?' 'Yes,' she admitted, but did not relate the whole story. 'Should I tell any more truths?' said the boy. 'Yes, the vat is not yet full.' So he began again: 'On the third day I went out with the hares, and a huntsman came by, riding on a dapple-gray horse, and he wanted to buy a hare from me, offering me gold or whatever I wanted, if he could have one. We finally agreed on a price: He was to stand by his horse, lift up its tail, and kiss its behind. I could see that he did not want to do this, but finally he did so anyway. And this huntsman was no one other than ...' 'Stop! Stop! That's enough! That's enough! The vat is now full,' said the king. He had heard enough. So Jesper got the princess and half the kingdom. The king put on the wedding, and it was so joyful that it was heard throughout the land. Jesper sent for his parents, so they too could be present, and I was there as well. I did not leave until late at night. They did not let me go until they had given me some of the wedding feast. I got beer in a scarf and bread in a bottle. Then they gave me a paper gown, a hat made of butter, and a pair of glass clogs for my feet. As I went outside the door my butter hat melted, and it ran down around my ears; and when I reached the pavement my glass clogs shattered. Then the wind tore my paper gown apart. I was about to eat a piece of bread to give myself strength, but when I broke the bottle to get at it, the bread fell into the dirt in the street. When I opened the scarf to drink a drop of beer, the beer ran out into the gutter. So there I stood, naked and barefoot and hungry and thirsty. As I stood there they shot a cannon salute for Jesper and the princess. The cannonball came flying by, but I was quick and jumped on it, and thus I was shot home to the others in order to tell them this story.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
570,The Flute,Poland,NA,"Willibald von Schulenburg, 'Die Flöte,' Wendisches Volksthum in Sage, Brauch und Sitte (Berlin: Nicolaische Verlags-Buchhandlung, 1882), pp. 41-42.","Once there was a boy who was supposed to tend three hundred hares, and the king had proclaimed that if he succeeded in bringing all of them back home for three evenings then he should receive the princess. He drove them out early in the morning, but the hares immediately ran away. He cried bitterly. In the evening he was supposed to have all the hares, but now he did not have a single one. Then a little man came to him and asked, 'Why are you crying so much?' He told the little man that he was supposed to bring all the hares back home in the evening, but that now he did not have a single one. Then the little man asked him if he had anything to eat, and the boy answered, 'Just a bit of dry bread.' After the two of them had eaten the bread, the little man gave a flute to the boy, saying, 'When evening comes just play on this flute, and all the hares will come to you.' The boy did just that, and all the hares came to him. When he arrived back in the village, everyone was standing in front of the palace to see if he would indeed bring all the hares back, and the boy did bring all three hundred back. The next day he drove them out again, and the little man returned. They ate breakfast together, and the little man asked, 'Why are you so happy?' The boy said, 'All my hares came back.' The little man said, 'Do the same thing again this evening.' And in that manner all the hares returned for three evenings. However, the king did not want to give the boy his daughter, because another young gentleman was there. Finally it was determined that the young gentleman, the boy, and the princess should all sleep together in one bed. In the morning, the person whom the princess was facing should receive her. In the middle of the night the boy went next door to a store and bought all kinds of sweets, raisins, and almonds, then got back in bed. At midnight the young gentleman asked, 'What is it that smells so good on you?' 'Oh, I just went outside and ate some of my own dung.' So the young gentleman went outside and smeared dung all over his face. Now everyone thought that the girl would be facing the young gentleman in the morning, but that was not the case. Thus the boy received the princess.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
570,The Green Fig,Germany,Kuhn's source: 'Deilinghofen.',"Adalbert Kuhn, 'Die grüne Feige,' Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen, vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), pp. 226-29.","Now there was a country-dweller who had three sons. The oldest was a cobbler, the second a tailor, but the third one had no trade at all. He was nothing but a kitchen guy. One day around Christmas-time the boys' father found a tree in the woods with three green figs. He took them home, put one of them in a little basket, and said to his oldest son, 'Put your best clothes on and take this fig to the king.' The boy dressed up smartly and set forth. Coming into a great forest he met a little old man who asked him, 'What do you have in your basket?' 'What am I supposed to have in it? It's dung,' said the cobbler. 'So!' replied the little man. 'If it is dung, then let it be dung!' The lad continued on his way, finally arriving at the royal palace. The guard asked him what he wanted. 'I'm bringing a green fig to the king,' he said. They let him enter. When he stepped before the king and gave him the basket, it turned out to be just as the little man had said. They gave him a good beating and sent him on his way. Back at home he said that his mission had been unsuccessful, but he did not admit what had actually happened. Then the tailor said, 'You must have done something stupid. I will be more clever, if father will send me with another fig.' The father gave his permission and put another fig in a basket for him. In the woods the same thing happened to the tailor. He answered the little old man even more rudely, and at the palace received an even harder beating than his brother had. Back at home he did not admit why he too had failed. Now the cinder-lad wanted to try his luck with the third fig. His brothers said, 'You stupid devil, the guards will never let you in.' The youth did not give his father any peace until he allowed him to try his luck with the third fig. He too met the little man in the woods. When he was asked what was in his basket, he said, honestly and politely, 'A green fig that I am taking to the king.' 'Now, my son,' said the little man, 'if you have a green fig, then let it remain a green fig. And because you are such an honest fellow I want to give you something. Here is a little flute. If you play on it, everything that you want will come to you.' Thanking the little man, the lad put the flute in his pocket and continued on to the royal palace. After a little difficulty he gained entrance. He gave the king the basket, and behold! The fig was still a fig. However, the princess was not happy about marrying the lad. She said, 'I will marry you only under one condition. You must let the hundred hares that are in the stall graze in the woods for eight days without losing a single one.' He accepted the task, and his little flute made it possible for him to bring all hundred back home on the first evening. Then the princess thought, 'I have to be clever about this.' The next day she disguised herself and went into the woods where he was herding. 'Will you sell me a hare?' 'I won't sell you one,' he said, 'but you can earn one from me.' 'How?' she asked. 'The donkey that you're riding -- just kiss its behind,' he said. 'I'd rather do that than to marry this peasant,' she thought, and did what he had demanded. He gave her a hare. When she had gone a little way he blew on his flute. The hare immediately freed itself and returned to its herder. Thus on the second evening he again returned with all hundred hares. The next day the queen came out in disguise, and the same thing happened to her. On the fourth day the king tried his luck, but he fared no better. At the end of eight days the youth thought that he had now earned the hand of the princess. But the king insisted on yet another task. 'You must,' he said, 'bring me three sacks filled with truths.' The lad asked for time to think things through, left the palace, and went out into the woods. No solution came to him, and he was about ready to give up all hope when the little man came to him and asked why he was so sad. After hearing the lad's response, the little man said, 'Oh, that's nothing! Just tell them how you traded away the hares!' So the lad returned to the palace and said, 'I have what you asked for.' 'Let us hear,' said the king. 'When I was herding the hares,' began the youth, 'on the second day the princess came to me and wanted a hare. But she didn't get one until she had kissed the donkey's b---' 'Stop!' shouted the king. 'One sack is full.' 'The next day the queen came to me and wanted ---' 'Stop!' shouted the king. 'The second sack is full.' 'On the following day,' said the lad, 'the ---' 'Stop!' shouted the king. 'The third sack is full.' The king gave a wedding celebration with drinking a feasting. I too was there, but when I went into the kitchen and nibbled a bit on the roast, the cook gave me such a blow on my behind with a foam-spoon that I flew all the way from there to here.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
570,The Hare Herder,Germany,Bechstein's source: 'Oral tradition from Franken [Franconia].',"Ludwig Bechstein, 'Der Hasenhüter,' Deutsches Märchenbuch (Leipzig: Verlag von Georg Wigand, 1847), pp. 128-31.","A wealthy king had a very beautiful daughter. When the time came for her to marry, all the suitors gathered in a large green meadow. She repeatedly threw a golden apple into the air, agreeing to marry the one who caught it and then fulfilled three tasks that she herself would assign. Many suitors caught the apple, including a good-looking, lively shepherd lad, but none of the others were able to fulfill the tasks. Finally it was the shepherd's turn, the last and the lowest of all the suitors. The first task was as follows: The king had a hundred hares in a stall. The shepherd was to drive them out to a pasture, herd them, then bring them all back home in the evening. When the shepherd heard this he wanted a day's time to think about whether or not he could undertake the venture. He wandered into the surrounding hills, filled with sorrow, for he was afraid that he would not succeed. Then he met a little old woman who asked him why he was sad. He said, 'No one can help me.' The little gray woman said, 'Don't be so quick to judge. Tell me what is the matter, and perhaps I can help.' So he explained the task to her. Then the woman gave him a little flute, saying, 'Take good care of this. It will be of value to you.' Before the lad could thank her, she disappeared. Now in good spirits, he went to the king and said, 'I want to herd the hares.' They were released from the stall, and by the time that the last one came out, the first one was nowhere to be seen. They had scattered in all directions. The lad went out, sat down on a green hill, and thought, 'What should I do now?' Then he remembered his flute. He took it out and blew into it. Suddenly all hundred of the hares ran toward him and began to graze peacefully near him on the green hill. The king and the princess did not want him to fulfill the task because he was such a poor sucker, not high-born at all, and they thought about ways to prevent him from bringing all the hares back home. Thus the princess disguised herself and altered her appearance so that he would not know her, but he recognized her nonetheless. Seeing that all the hares were still there, she asked, 'Could I buy one of the hares?' The lad said, 'The hares are not for sale, but one can be earned.' She asked further, 'How am I to understand that?' The lad said, 'If you will be my sweetheart and spend a cuddly hour with me!' She did not want to do this, but she did want one of the hares, so finally she gave in and did what the lad wanted. After he had cuddled with her and kissed her enough, he caught a hare for her and put it into her basket, and then she went away. A quarter-hour later the shepherd blew into his flute, and the hare pushed up the basket's lid, jumped out, and ran back to him. Not long afterward the old king, also disguised, came to the shepherd, but the lad recognized him as well. The king was riding a donkey with a basket hanging on either side. The king asked, 'Will you sell me a hare?' 'No, the hares are not for sale, but one can be earned.' 'How am I to understand that?' asked the king. 'Just kiss the donkey beneath its tail,' began the lad, 'and you can have one.' The king did not want to do this and offered the shepherd good money if he would sell him one, but the lad refused. Seeing that he could not buy a hare for money the king finally gave in and kissed the donkey a good one right beneath its tail. Then a hare was caught and put into one of the baskets on the donkey, and the king went on his way. He hadn't gone very far when the lad blew into his flute. The hare jumped out of the basket and ran back. Arriving home, the king said, 'He is a stubborn fellow. I couldn't get a hare from him.' But the king did not say what he had done. 'Yes,' answered the princess, 'I couldn't get one either.' But she too did not admit what she had done. That evening the lad returned with his hares and counted them for the king, all hundred of them were back in the stall. 'You have fulfilled the first task,' said the king, 'and now for the second one. Pay attention! One hundred bushels of peas and one hundred bushels of lentils are lying in my loft. I had them all mixed up together. If you can separate them in one night, without light, then you will have fulfilled the second task.' The lad said, 'I can do it!' He was locked inside the loft, and the door was securely fastened. When everything was quiet in the castle, he blew into his flute, then many thousands of ants appeared and scurried back and forth until they had piled all the peas in one heap and all the lentils in a separate one. When the king looked in early the next morning and saw that the task had been fulfilled, he did not see any ants, for they had all gone away. Then he said, 'In the coming night if you can eat your way through a large room filled with bread, so that nothing is left over, then you will have fulfilled the third task, and you can have my daughter.' When it was dark the lad was put into the room filled with bread. It was so full that there was only a tiny space for him next to the door. When everything was quiet in the castle he once again blew into his flute, and so many mice appeared that it almost frightened him. At daybreak all the bread had been eaten, with not a single crumb left over. He pounded on the door and shouted, 'Open up! I'm hungry!' And with that the third task had been fulfilled. However, the king said, 'Just for the fun of it, tell us a sack full of lies, and then you can have my daughter.' So the lad told them a terrible lie for half the day, but he could not fill the sack, so finally he related, 'I have already spent a cuddly hour with the princess, my bride-to-be.' Hearing these words, the princess turned fire-red. The king looked at her, and although it was supposed to be a lie, he believed it to be true, putting together in his own mind where and how it had happened. 'The sack is not full yet!' he shouted. Then the lad began, 'And furthermore, the king kissed ... ' 'It's full! It's full! Tie it shut!' shouted the king. He was ashamed and did not want anyone to know how the donkey had been honored with the king's royal mouth, for all of his courtiers were standing around in a circle. So the shepherd lad married the princess, and the wedding was celebrated for fourteen days. Such a grand time was had by all that the person who told this story wishes that he had been a guest there as well.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
570,The King's Hares,Norway,"Stroebe's source: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, 'Gjæte Kongens Harer,' Norske Folke-Eventyr. Ny Samling. Med Bidrag fra Jøes Reiser og Optegnelser (Christiana [Oslo]: Jak. Dybwad, 1871), no. 96, pp. 190-98.","Klara Stroebe, The Norwegian Fairy Book, edited by Klara Stroebe, translated [from the German] by Frederick H. Martens (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1922), no. 25, pp. 202-212.","Once upon a time there was a man who lived in the little back room. He had given up his estate to the heir; but in addition he had three sons, who were named Peter, Paul, and Esben, who was the youngest. All three hung around at home and would not work, for they had it too easy, and they thought themselves too good for anything like work, and nothing was good enough for them. Finally Peter once heard that the king wanted a shepherd for his hares, and he told his father he would apply for the position, as it would just suit him, seeing that he wished to serve no one lower in rank than the king. His father, it is true, was of the opinion that there might be other work that would suit him better, for whoever was to herd hares would have to be quick and spry, and not a sleepy-head, and when the hares took to their heels in all directions, it was a dance of another kind than when one skipped about a room. But it was of no use. Peter insisted, and would have his own way, took his knapsack, and shambled down hill. After he had gone a while, he saw an old woman who had got her nose wedged in a tree-stump while chopping wood, and when Peter saw her jerking and pulling away, trying to get out, he burst into loud laughter. 'Don't stand there and laugh in such a stupid way,' said the woman, 'but come and help a poor, feeble old woman. I wanted to split up some firewood, and caught my nose here, and here I have been standing for more than a hundred years, pulling and jerking, without a bit of bread to chew in all that time,' said she. Then Peter had to laugh all the harder. He found it all very amusing, and said that if she had already been standing there a hundred years, then she could probably hold out for another hundred years or more. When he came to court they at once took him on as a herdsman. The place was not bad, there was good food, and good wages, and the chance of winning the princess besides; yet if no more than a single one of the king's hares were to be lost, they would cut three red strips from his back, and throw him into the snake-pit. As long as Peter was on the common or in the enclosure, he kept his hares together nicely, but later, when they reached the forest, they ran away from him across the hills. Peter ran after them with tremendous leaps, as long as he thought he could catch even a single hare, but when the very last one had vanished, his breath was gone, and he saw no more of them. Toward noon he went home, taking his time about it, and when he reached the enclosure, he looked around for them on all sides, but no hares came. And then, when he came to the castle, there stood the king with the knife in his hand. He cut three red strips from his back, and cast him into the snake-pit. After a while Paul decided to go to the castle and herd the king's hares. His father told him what he had told Peter, and more besides; but he insisted on going, and would not listen, and he fared neither better nor worse than Peter had. The old woman stood and pulled and jerked at her nose in the tree-trunk, and he laughed, found it very amusing, and let her stand there and torment herself. He was at once taken into service, but the hares all ran away across the hills, though he pursued them, and worked away like a shepherd dog in the sun, and when he came back to the castle in the evening minus his hares, there stood the king with the knife in his hand, cut three broad strips from his back, rubbed in pepper and salt, and flung him into the snake-pit. Then, after some time had passed, the youngest decided to set out to herd the king's hares, and told his father of his intention. He thought that would be just the work for him, to loaf about in forest and field, look for strawberry patches, herd a flock of hares, and lie down and sleep in the sun between times. His father thought that there was other work that would suit him better, and that even if he fared no worse than his brothers, it was quite certain that he would fare no better. Whoever herded the king's hares must not drag along as though he had lead in his soles, or like a fly on a lime-rod; and that when the hares took to their heels, it was a horse of an other color from catching flees with gloved hands; whoever wanted to escape with a whole back, would have to be more than quick and nimble, and swifter than a bird. But there was nothing he could do. Esben merely kept on saying that he wanted to go to court and serve the king, for he would not take service with any lesser master, said he; and he would see to the hares. They could not be much worse than a herd of goats or of calves. And with that he took his knapsack and strolled comfortably down the hill. After he had wandered a while, and began to feel a proper hunger, he came to the old woman who was wedged by the nose in the tree-trunk and who was pulling and jerking away, in order to get loose. 'Good day, mother,' said Esben, 'and why are you worrying yourself so with your nose, you poor thing?' 'No one has called me mother for the last hundred years,' said the old woman, 'but come and help me out, and give me a bite to eat; for I have not had a bit to eat in all that time. And I will do something for your sake as well,' said she. Yes, no doubt she would need something to eat and drink badly, said Esben. Then he hewed the tree-trunk apart, so that she got her nose out of the cleft, sat down to eat, and shared with her. The old woman had a good appetite, and she received a good half of his provisions. When they were through she gave Esben a whistle which had the power that if he blew into one end, whatever he wished scattered was scattered to all the winds, and when he blew into the other, all came together again. And if the whistle passed from his possession, it would return as soon as he wished it back. 'That is a wonderful whistle!' thought Esben. When he came to the castle, they at once took him on as a shepherd; the place was not bad, he was to have food and wages, and should he manage to herd the king's hares without losing one of them, he might possibly win the princess; but if he lost so much as a single hare, and no matter how small it might be, then they would cut three red strips from his back, and the king was so sure of his case that he went right off to whet his knife. It would be a simple matter to herd the hares, thought Esben; for when they went off they were as obedient as a herd of sheep, and so long as they were on the common, and in the enclosure, they even marched in rank and file. But when they reached the forest, and noontime came, and the sun burned down on hill and dale, they all took to their heels and ran away across the hills. 'Hallo, there! So you want to run away!' called Esben, and blew into one end of his whistle, and then they scattered the more quickly to all the ends of the earth. But when he had reached an old charcoal-pit, he blew into the other end of his whistle, and before he knew it the hares were back again, and standing in rank and file so he could review them, just like a regiment of soldiers on the drill-ground. 'That is a splendid whistle!' thought Esben; lay down on a sunny hillock, and fell asleep. The hares were left to their own devices, and played until evening; then he once more whistled them together, and took them along to the castle like a herd of sheep. The king and queen and the princess, too, stood in the hallway, and wondered what sort of a fellow this was, who could herd hares without losing a single one. The king reckoned and added them up, and counted with his fingers, and then added them up again; but not even the teeny-weeniest hare was missing. 'He is quite a chap, he is,' said the princess. The following day he again went to the forest, and herded his hares; but while he lay in all comfort beside a strawberry patch, they sent out the chambermaid from the castle to him, and she was to find out how he managed to herd the king's hares. He showed her his whistle, and blew into one end, and all the hares darted away across the hills in all directions, and then he blew into the other, and they came trotting up from all sides, and once more stood in rank and file. 'That is a wonderful whistle,' said the chambermaid. She would gladly give him a hundred dollars, if he cared to sell it. 'Yes, it is a splendid whistle,' said Esben, 'and I will not sell it for money. But if you give me a hundred dollars, and a kiss with every dollar to boot, then I might let you have it.' Yes, indeed, that would suit her right down to the ground; she would gladly give him two kisses with every dollar, and feel grateful, besides. So she got the whistle, but when she reached the castle, the whistle disappeared all of a sudden. Esben had wished it back again, and toward evening he came along, driving his hares like a herd of sheep. The king reckoned and counted and added, but all to no purpose, for not the least little hare was missing. When Esben was herding his hares the third day, they sent the princess to him to get away his pipe from him. She was tickled to death, and finally offered him two hundred dollars if he would let her have the whistle, and would also tell her what she had to do in order to fetch it safely home with her. 'Yes, it is a very valuable whistle,' said Esben, 'and I will not sell it,' but at last, as a favor to her, he said he would let her have it if she gave him two hundred dollars, and a kiss for every dollar to boot. But if she wanted to keep it, why, she must take good care of it, for that was her affair. 'That is a very high price for a hare-whistle,' said the princess, and she really shrank from kissing him, 'but since we are here in the middle of the forest, where no one can see or hear us, I'll let it pass, for I positively must have the whistle,' said she. And when Esben had pocketed the price agreed upon, she received the whistle, and held it tightly clutched in her hand all the way home; yet when she reached the castle, and wanted to show it, it disappeared out of her hands. On the following day the queen herself set out, and she felt quite sure that she would succeed in coaxing the whistle away from him. She was stingier, and only offered fifty dollars; but she had to raise her bid until she reached three hundred. Esben said it was a magnificent whistle, and that the price was a beggarly one; but seeing that she was the queen, he would let it pass. She was to pay him three hundred dollars, and for every dollar she was to give him a buss to boot, then she should have the whistle. And he was paid in full as agreed, since as regards the busses the queen was not so stingy. When she had the whistle in her hands, she tied it fast, and hid it well, but she fared not a whit better than either of the others; when she wanted to show the whistle it was gone, and in the evening Esben came home, driving his hares as though they were a well-trained flock of sheep. 'You are stupid women!' said the king. 'I suppose I will have to go to him myself if we really are to obtain this trumpery whistle. There seems to be nothing else left to do!' And the following day, when Esben was once more herding his hares, the king followed him, and found him at the same place where the women had bargained with him. They soon became good friends, and Esben showed him the whistle, and blew into one end and the other, and the king thought the whistle very pretty, and finally insisted on buying it, even though it cost him a thousand dollars. 'Yes, it is a magnificent whistle,' said Esben, 'and I would not sell it for money. But do you see that white mare over yonder?' said he, and pointed into the forest. 'Yes, she belongs to me, that is my Snow-Witch!' cried the king, for he knew her very well. 'Well, if you will give me a thousand dollars, and kiss the white mare that is grazing on the moor by the big pine, to boot, then you can have my whistle !' said Esben. 'Is that the only price at which you will sell!' asked the king. 'Yes,' said Esben. 'But at least may I not put a silken handkerchief between?' asked the king. This was conceded him, and thus be obtained the whistle. He put it in the purse in his pocket, and carefully buttoned up the pocket. Yet when he reached the castle, and wanted to take it out, he was in the same case as the women, for he no longer had the whistle. And in the evening Esben came home with his herd of hares, and not the least little hare was missing. The king was angry, and furious because he had made a fool of them all, and had swindled the king's self out of the whistle into the bargain, and now he wanted to do away with Esben. The queen was of the same opinion, and said it was best to behead such a knave when he was caught in the act. Esben thought this neither fair nor just; for he had only done what he had been asked to do, and had defended himself as best he knew how. But the king said that this made no difference to him; yet if Esben could manage to fill the big brewing-cauldron with lies till it ran over, he would spare his life. The job would be neither long nor hard, said Esben, he thought he could warrant that, and he began to tell about the old woman with her nose in the tree-trunk, and in between he said, 'I must make up plenty of stories, to fill the cauldron,' -- and then he told of the whistle, and the chambermaid who came to him and wanted to buy the whistle for a hundred dollars, and about all the kisses that she bad had to give him to boot, up on the hillock by the forest; and then he told about the princess, how she had come and kissed him so sweetly for the whistle's sake, because no one could see or hear it in the forest -- 'I must make up plenty of stories, in order to fill the cauldron,' said Esben. Then he told of the queen, and of how stingy she had been with her money, and how liberal with her busses -- 'for I must make up plenty of stories in order to fill the cauldron,' said Esben. 'But I think it must be full now!' said the queen. 'O, not a sign of it!' said the king. Then Esben began to tell how the king had come to him, and about the white mare who was grazing on the moor, 'and since he insisted on having the whistle he had to -- he had to -- well, with all due respect, I have to make up plenty of stories in order to fill the cauldron,' said Esben. 'Stop, stop! It is full, fellow!' cried the king. 'Can't you see that it is running over!' The king and the queen were of the opinion that it would be best for Esben to receive the princess and half the kingdom; there did not seem anything else to do. 'Yes, it was a magnificent whistle!' said Esben.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
570,The Magic Fife,Ukraine / Russia,"The Russian Secret Tales were collected by the pioneering Russian folklorist Alexander Afanasyev (also anglicized Afanasief, Afanasiev, or Afanas'ev) and first published anonymously in Russian in the 1870s in Geneva, Switzerland. A French translation of all 77 tales was published in the journal Kryptadia in 1883.","'Le chalumeau merveilleux,' Kryptadia: Contes secrets traduits du Russe, vol. 1 (1883), no. 53, pp. 187-91.","Once in a certain empire, in certain kingdom, there was a lord, and there was also a peasant, and I cannot say how poor he was. The lord summoned him and said, 'Listen, little peasant! You have not paid your debt, and one cannot get anything from you. Come and work for me for three years to pay off your debt.' The peasant lived with him a first, a second, and a third year. The master, seeing that the peasant soon would have paid off his debt, thought to himself, 'What fault could I invent in order to keep the peasant working here for another three years.' The lord summoned him and said, 'Listen, little peasant, here are ten hares. Take them out to graze in the meadow, and be very careful to bring them all back, otherwise I will keep you here with me for another three years.' As the peasant began to drive the hares to the meadow they all fled in all directions. 'What can I do?' he thought. Now I'm lost!' He sat down and cried. Coming from who knows where, an old man appeared, and asked, 'Why are you crying, little peasant?' 'How can I not cry, old man? My master gave me hares to graze, and they all ran away. Now my downfall is inevitable.' The old man gave him a fife and said, 'Here is a fife; when you play on it they will all come running back to you!' Thanking him, the peasant took the fife, and he had scarcely played on it when all the hares immediately ran back to him. He drove them home. The master counted the hares and exclaimed, 'All ten!' Then the lord said to his wife, 'Well, what shall we do? What fault can we now find with the peasant?' 'Darling, here's what we shall do. Tomorrow, after he has taken the hares out to graze, I shall disguise myself with different clothes. Then I'll find him and buy a hare from him!' 'Good!' The next morning the peasant took the hares out to graze, and no sooner had he arrived in the woods than they all ran off in different directions. But the peasant just sat on the grass and began to weave hemp shoes. Suddenly the lady approached in her carriage. She stopped, came up to him, and asked, 'What are you doing there, little peasant?' 'I'm grazing livestock.' 'What kind of livestock?' The peasant took his fife and played on it. All the hares ran up to him. 'Ah, little peasant!' said the lady, sell me one of those hares.' 'Impossible! They are the lord's hares, and the lord is very strict with me! He would destroy me without mercy.' The lady persisted: 'I beg you to sell me one.' Seeing her great desire to have a hare, the peasant said, 'But, good lady, I have a rule.' 'What kid of rule? 'I will give a hare to that person lets me f--- her.' 'Just ask for more money, little peasant!' 'No, I do not want anything else '' So the lady (what else could she do?) let the peasant f--- her. He did his thing and then gave her a hare. 'Hold it gently, lady, or you will strangle it.' She took the hare, got into her carriage, and left. But when the peasant played his fife the hare heard it and escaped from the lady's hands and returned to the peasant. The lady arrived home. 'Well, did you buy the hare?' 'I bought it, I bought it, but when the peasant played his fife, the hare escaped from my hands and ran away.' The following day the lady returned to the peasant. She approached him and again asked, 'What are you doing, little peasant?' I'm weaving hemp shoes and grazing my master's livestock.' 'Where is the livestock?' The peasant played his fife and immediately all the hares ran up to him.' The lady wanted to buy a hare. 'I have a rule.' 'What is it?' 'Let me f--- you.' The lady let him f--- her a second time, and she received a hare, but when the peasant played the fife, the hare escaped and ran away from her. On the third day, the master, in disguise, went out himself. 'What are you doing, little peasant?' 'And where is your livestock?' The peasant played his fife, and the hares came running towards him. 'Sell me one of those hares!' 'I do not sell them for money. I have a rule.' 'What rule?' 'I'll give a hare to whomsoever will f--- a mare.' So the lord mounted the mare and fornicated with her. The peasant gave him a hare and said, 'Hold it carefully, lord; otherwise you will strangle it.' The lord took the hare and went home, but the peasant played on his fife. The hare heard it and ran away to the peasant. The lord saw that he could do nothing more, and he let the peasant live in freedom.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
570,The Rabbit Herd,Europe,"Retold. This tale, recorded with varying degrees of raciness, is found throughout Europe and the Americas.",NA,"Once upon a time there was a king who had a daughter that would not laugh. His jugglers, clowns, and jesters performed their utmost for her, but she could not, or would not, even break a smile. Finally the king proclaimed that whatever man -- rich or poor, young or old, strong or frail -- could break his daughter's spell should take her to wife, and receive half the kingdom as well. Men and boys came from every direction to try their luck but no one was successful, until.... The news finally reached a remote corner of the kingdom where a poor peasant lived with his three sons. The youngest -- we'll call him Hans (although some say that his name was Jack, or Ivan, or Juan) -- decided that he too would try his luck at winning the hand of the princess. He was a droll sort -- some called him silly, others just plain stupid -- whose capers often brought the villagers to laughter. Yes, he would give it a try. And he set forth, pursued by the jeers of his older and wiser brothers, on the path that led to the king's palace. At midday he was looking for a shady spot where he could rest and eat the crust of bread he had brought, when suddenly he came upon an old man by the side of the road. 'Would you share your bread with a weary traveler?' asked the stranger. 'Half a dry crust is quite as good as a whole one,' replied Hans, and broke off a piece for the old man. 'Bless you, my son,' responded the stranger. 'I cannot reward you with gold, but this whistle will lead you to that, and more.' So saying, he offered Hans a tiny silver flute. Hans put the flute to his lips, and it began to play, first a marching tune, then a cheerful air, and then a pensive hymn. Before he knew it, Hans had arrived at the palace, and the guards, charmed by his tuneful music, let him pass. His heart leapt for joy, and the flute broke into a lusty jig. The princess, hearing the tune, opened her window and looked out. She nodded her head to the beat, then gave a cautious grin, and then an open smile. She chuckled softly to herself, then broke into a happy laugh. The king, hearing her joyful laughter, was beside himself with glee, until -- that is -- until he saw the lad who was playing the flute. Hans, you see, did have the look of a peasant and of a simpleton, and the king, in spite of his promise, was hoping for a finer man. 'That is all well and good,' said the king to Hans, 'but before you can receive the princess, there is yet another task that you must fulfill.' He then had one hundred wild rabbits set loose in a nearby forest. 'Keep these animals together in a herd,' said the king, and in three days the princess and half the kingdom shall be yours. But if you lose a single rabbit, you shall forfeit everything. Even as they spoke the rabbits ran to the four winds, but Hans did not despair. He blew a few notes into the silver flute, and as if by magic, the hundred rabbits assembled at his feet. Reassured, he made himself comfortable in the shade of a large tree, and waited for the three days to pass. The king, seeing how easily Hans kept the herd together was filled with worry and anger. No other solution presented itself, so finally he sent his daughter into the woods, telling her to do whatever was necessary to get a rabbit away from the peasant herdsman. The princess presented herself to Hans, and asked him ever so politely if she might not purchase one of his rabbits. His answer made her blush. 'You don't mean that I would have to ...,' she said, and didn't know whether to pout or to smile. No, he would accept no other offer, said Hans. 'Take it, or leave it.' And so she took it. The princess left the woods carrying a rabbit in her basket. But well before she arrived home, Hans put the magic flute to his lips, and in an instant the rabbit jumped from her basket and raced back to the herd. The next day the king, ever more desperate, sent his own wife into the woods with instructions to bring home a rabbit, whatever the cost. When Hans named his price, the queen, like the princess before her, first pouted, then smiled, and then gave in. But she too lost her rabbit when Hans called it back with his magic flute. On the third day the king himself went into the woods to bargain for a rabbit. Hans, as before, was willing to trade, but this time the price -- no, I cannot bring myself to say more than that it involved a mare that was grazing in a nearby clearing. Red with shame, the king took his rabbit and started off for home, but again the flute called the rabbit back into the herd. The three days had passed, and the rabbit herd was still intact, but now the king found yet another task that Hans would have to fulfill before he could claim the princess and half the kingdom. 'A trifle,' explained the king. 'Just sing three bags full.' 'I can manage that,' said Hans. 'Bring me three empty bags, and I'll sing them full to the top, but only in the presence of the finest lords and ladies of the kingdom. The king, believing that at last he would be rid of the peasant lad, assembled the lords and ladies in a great hall, then brought in Hans and three empty bags. Hans picked up a bag and started to sing: Our princess went into the woods; She thought she'd try her luck, ... 'Stop!' called out the princess. That bag is full!' Hans obligingly stopped singing, tied a string around the mouth of the bag, picked up the next one, and started a new song: Our queen she went into the woods; She thought she'd try her luck, 'Stop!' shouted the queen. That bag is full!' Hans stopped, tied this bag shut, picked up the last one, and commenced singing: Our king he went into the woods; He thought he'd try his luck, 'Stop!' bellowed the king. The last bag is full!' With that, the king proclaimed that Hans had won the princess's hand in marriage and half the kingdom. The wedding was celebrated that same day. All the lords and ladies attended the great feast that followed. I too was invited, but I lost my way in the woods and arrived only as the last toast was being drunk.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
310,Blond Beauty,France,NA,"Léon Pineau, 'La Belle Blonde,' Les Contes Populaires du Poitou (Paris: Ernest Leroux, 1891), pp. 91-93.","How she grieved, but then she met a fairy who told her not to worry. The fairy would like to the godmother. The lady had a beautiful little girl. She was baptized with the name Blond Beauty and was raised by her godmother. The girl lived in a castle without doors; one had to enter through the windows. When the godmother arrived she would say, 'Blond Beauty, let down your hair, so I can come up.' But one day something different happened. A young king came by. He said, 'Mademoiselle, you are so beautiful. Is there no way for me to come inside? How do you get out?' 'Me, I never go out. When my godmother comes I let down my hair and let her climb up.' 'If you would let down your hair, I could climb up and keep you company!' So she let down her hair, and let him climb up. When the old fairy arrived she hid him in a barrel. 'Blond Beauty, let down your hair, so I can come up.' Then the parrot said over and over, 'Her lover is in the barrel!' 'Hey! What are you saying, parrot. Be quiet, you little blabber-mouth.' The next day the young king took Blond Beauty away. When the fairy arrived, she said, 'Blond Beauty, let down your hair, so I can come up.' But Blond Beauty did not let down her hair. The fairy climbed into the castle, but Blond Beauty was not there. The parrot said, 'I told you that her lover was in the barrel!' 'Oh, you poor parrot! You told me so. But now, Blond Beauty, you shall now become as ugly as you were beautiful!' And Blond Beauty turned into a frog. Now the king had another son. He said that the one of them who would bring home the most beautiful woman should receive a portion of the kingdom. So Blond Beauty was forced to return to the fairy and beg her to make her beautiful again. 'Oh Blond Beauty, you do not deserve it, but so be it!' And she became even more beautiful than before, and they won a portion of the kingdom. And then the king said that whoever should build the most beautiful castle for his wife, he would receive another portion of the kingdom So they had to find the fairy again. The other son had a castle made of copper, but the fairy made a castle of silver for them, and thus they won another portion of the kingdom.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
310,Juan and Clotilde,Philippines,NA,"Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, PA: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), pp. 355-59.","In ages vastly remote there lived in a distant land a king of such prowess and renown, that his name was known throughout the four regions of the compass. His name was Ludovico. His power was increased twofold by his attachment to an aged magician, to whom he was tied by strong bonds of friendship. Ludovico had an extremely lovely daughter by the name of Clotilde. Ever since his arrival at the palace the magician had been passionately in love with her; but his extreme old age and his somewhat haughty bearing were obstacles in his path to success. Whenever he made love to her, she turned aside, and listened instead to the thrilling tales told by some wandering minstrel. The magician finally succumbed to the infirmities of old age, his life made more burdensome by his repeated disappointments. He left to the king three enchanted winged horses; to the princess, two magic necklaces of exactly the same appearance, of inimitable workmanship and of priceless worth. Nor did the magician fail to wreak vengeance on the cause of his death. Before he expired, he locked Clotilde and the three magic horses in a high tower inaccessible to any human being. She was to remain in this enchanted prison until some man succeeded in setting her free. Naturally, King Ludovico wanted to see his daughter before the hour of his death, which was fast approaching. He offered large sums of money, together with his crown and Clotilde's hand, to anybody who could set her free. Hundreds of princes tried, but in vain. The stone walls of the tower were of such a height, that very few birds, even, could fly over them. But a deliverer now rose from obscurity and came into prominence. This man was an uneducated but persevering peasant named Juan. He possessed a graceful form, herculean frame, good heart, and unrivalled ingenuity. His two learned older brothers tried to scale the walls of the tower, but fared no better than the others. At last Juan's turn came. His parents and his older brothers expostulated with him not to go, for what could a man unskilled in the fine arts do? But Juan, in the hope of setting the princess free, paid no attention to their advice. He took as many of the biggest nails as he could find, a very long rope, and a strong hammer. As he lived in a town several miles distant from the capital, he had to make the trip on horseback. One day Juan set out with all his equipment. On the way he met his disappointed second brother returning after a vain attempt. The older brother tried in every way he could to divert Juan from his purpose. Now, Juan's parents, actuated partly by a sense of shame if he should fail, and partly by a deep-seated hatred, had poisoned his food without his knowledge. When he felt hungry, he suspected them of some evil intention: so before eating he gave his horse some of his provisions. The poor creature died on the road amidst terrible sufferings, and Juan was obliged to finish the journey on foot. When he arrived at the foot of the tower, he drove a nail into the wall. Then he tied one end of his rope to this spike. In this way he succeeded in making a complete ladder of nails and rope to the top of the tower. He looked for Clotilde, who met him with her eyes flooded with tears. As a reward for his great services to her, she gave him one of the magic necklaces. While they were whispering words of love in each other's ears, they heard a deafening noise at the bottom of the tower. 'Rush for safety to your ladder!' cried Clotilde. 'One of the fiendish friends of the magician is going to kill you.' But, alas! some wanton hand had pulled out the nails; and this person was none other then Juan's second brother. 'I am a lost man,' said Juan. 'Mount one of the winged horses in the chamber adjoining mine,' said Clotilde. So Juan got on one of the animals without knowing where to go. The horse flew from the tower with such velocity, that Juan had to close his eyes. His breath was almost taken away. In a few seconds, however, he was landed in a country entirely strange to his eyes. After long years of struggle with poverty and starvation, Juan was at last able to make his way back to his native country. He went to live in a town just outside the walls of the capital. A rich old man named Telesforo hired him to work on his farm. Juan's excellent service and irreproachable conduct won the good will of his master, who adopted him as his son. At about this time King Ludovico gave out proclamations stating that any one who could exactly match his daughter's necklace should be his son-in-law. Thousands tried, but they tried in vain. Even the most dexterous and experienced smiths were baffled in their attempts to produce an exact counterfeit. When word of the royal proclamations was brought to Juan, he decided to try. One day he pretended to be sick, and he asked Telesforo to go to the palace to get Clotilde's necklace. The old man, who was all ready to serve his adopted son, went that very afternoon and borrowed the necklace, so that he might try to copy it. When he returned with the magic article, Juan jumped from his bed and kissed his father. After supper Juan went to his room and locked himself in. Then he took from his pocket the necklace which Clotilde had given him in the tower, and compared it carefully with the borrowed one. When he saw that they did not differ in any respect, he took a piece of iron and hammered it until midnight. Early the next morning Juan wrapped the two magic necklaces in a silk handkerchief, and told the old man to take them to the king. 'By the aid of the Lord!' exclaimed Clotilde when her father the king unwrapped the necklaces, 'my lover is here again. This necklace,' she said, touching the one she had given Juan, 'is not a counterfeit: for it is written in the magician's book of black art that no human being shall be able to imitate either of the magic necklaces. -- Where is the owner of this necklace, old man?' she said, turning to Telesforo. 'He is at home,' said Telesforo with a bow. 'Go and bring him to the palace,' said Clotilde. Within a quarter of an hour Juan arrived. After paying due respect to the king, Juan embraced Clotilde affectionately. They were married in the afternoon, and the festivities continued for nine days and nine nights. Juan was made crown prince, and on the death of King Ludovico he succeeded to the throne. King Juan and Queen Clotilde lived to extreme old age in peace and perfect happiness. Popular Tales (Lancaster, PA: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), 355-59.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
310,Parsillette,France,"This story was told by Joséphine Maurel, who learned it from her grandfather Joseph Hubert, aged 78 years.","Revue des traditions populaires, vol. 6 (1891), pp. 590-93.","Then they were told to make a pilgrimage to achieve their wish. They went on this pilgrimage, travelling a long way from home. By the time they returned homeward the woman had become pregnant. On their way they saw a beautiful garden, and in this garden there were magnificent fruits. The wife said to her husband, 'Oh, I would like to eat some of this fruit. I'll pick it myself.' The husband said to her, 'What if someone sees us!' But she said to him, 'It doesn't matter. I'll go and get some.' She went to the garden and ate some fruit, then returned to their cart. As she was about to leave, a little woman appeared and asked her why she had taken the fruit. So she told the little woman about her desire for the fruit. Then the woman said to her, 'I will say nothing about your having stolen my fruit, but I want to be the godmother of your child. You will have a girl.' The wife climbed back onto her wagon and said to her husband, 'I promised that woman that she could be godmother, but it won't happen.' Finally the day arrived when she delivered the child. She had a daughter, just as the woman had said. They had the child baptized, but did not invite the woman. The woman summoned her sisters; she had two sisters, and they were fairies. She said to them, 'You know, the woman who stole my fruit gave birth to a child, but did not ask me to be godmother. She must be punished. We must take away her child.' She departed with a large dog. She arrived at the woman's door and rang. No one would open the door. She commanded the dog to open the door, and it opened the door. The dog opened all the doors. She came to where the child was. She said to the dog, 'Bring the child to me!' Then she said to the mother, 'And you, madam, another time you will keep your promises. You shall never again see your daughter.' Then the woman returned to her own home with the child. Once all the fairies in the country came together, and she was godmother to the child. She named her Parsillette. She gave her the ability to sing such that she could be heard for seven leagues. The others gave her all sorts of gifts; the gift of beauty -- in short, all kinds of gifts. Then she was given a nursemaid, and the best of everything was made ready for her. When she grew up, she was so beautiful that all the gentlemen who passed by stopped to look at her. She sang so well that everyone wanted to hear her sweet songs. The woman saw this and said to her sisters, 'We must confine Parsillette in a tower; otherwise she will leave us.' Then she took her to a tower three leagues distant from the house where she was. In this tower she had everything that she needed for her comfort and enjoyment, even a parrot to talk with her. Then the woman said to her, 'Now when I come to bring you something I'll say to you, 'Parsillette, my goddaughter, let down your beautiful hair to me!' Then you are to open the door. That is the password.' Now there was a prince in the vicinity, seven leagues away. He heard the singing from his home. He said, 'Who is singing like that? I need to know.' He asked about the place where the singing came from, and was told that a princess was there, locked in a tower. He said, 'I have to go there and talk to her.' Arriving at the tower, he heard someone say, 'Parsillette, my goddaughter, let down your beautiful hair to me!' He wrote down the password, so that he too could say it. As soon as the woman left, he too said, 'Parsillette, my goddaughter, let down your beautiful hair to me!' The girl, thinking it was her godmother, who had forgotten something, opened the door. Seeing the young man enter, she wanted to run away, but where to? And he, when he saw her, he fell so in love with her that he did not want to leave. He told her that if she would follow him, he would make her a queen. She was bored in this tower, always being alone with only her parrot for company. She promised him that she would go away with him; they would leave the next day. The woman approached, bringing food again. Seeing her godmother arrive, Parsillette hid the young man behind a curtain. Then the parrot said, 'Godmother, a lover is hidden there!' Then the godmother said to her goddaughter, 'What did your parrot say?' 'Oh, godmother, he just said what I told him to.' Then, suspecting nothing, the woman left. Then the woman began thinking about what the parrot had said. She said, 'I think that the parrot told me the truth. I must be sure.' She retraced her steps and arrived back at the tower. She called out, but no one responded. She climbed to the top of the tower. She saw Parsillette, who was clinging to the young man's arm. She struck out with her wand, and Parsillette became as ugly as she had been beautiful. All the gifts that had been given to her disappeared. The young man, seeing this change, did not know what to say; and Parsillette, seeing this, said to him, 'I cannot go any further. Seeing how angry my godmother is, I must return to her and beg her pardon. The moment she said this, the young man was struck dead. She returned to her godmother and begged her pardon. Then all the gifts came back to her, and her godmother forgave her. She took Parsillette home with her, not back to the tower. Later Parsillette married a very wealthy prince, and she never knew her parents.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
310,Parsley [Petrosinella],Italy,"This story is the first tale of day two in Basile's famous collection, first published in Naples under the title Lo cunto de li cunti overo lo trattenemiento de pecceril (The Tale of Tales; or, Entertainment for Little Ones) in two volumes, 1634 and 1636.","Giambattista Basile, The Pentamerone; or, The Story of Stories, translated from the Neapolitan by John Edward Taylor, new edition revised and edited by Helen Zimmern (London: T. Tisher Unwin, 1894), pp. 56-62.","There was once upon a time a woman named Pascadozzia. As she was standing one day at a window, which looked into the garden of an ogress, she saw a beautiful bed of parsley, for which she took such a longing that she was on the point of fainting away; and being unable to resist her desire, she watched until the ogress went out, and then plucked a handful of it. But when the ogress came home, and was going to cook her pottage, she found that some one had been at the parsley, and said, 'Ill luck to me but I'll catch this long-fingered rogue, and make him repent it, and teach him to his cost that every one should eat off his own platter, and not meddle with other folks' cups.' The poor woman went again and again down into the garden, until one morning the ogress met her, and in a furious rage exclaimed, 'Have I caught you at last, you thief, you rogue? Prithee do you pay the rent of the garden, that you come in this impudent way and steal my plants? By my faith, but I'll make you do penance!' Poor Pascadozzia, in a terrible fright, began to make excuses, saying that neither from gluttony nor the craving of hunger had she been tempted by the devil to commit this fault, but fear she had lest the child should be born with a crop of parsley on its face; and she added that the ogress ought rather to thank her, for not having given her sore eyes. 'Words are but wind,' answered the ogress; 'I am not to be caught with such prattle; you have closed the balance sheet of life, unless you promise to give me the child you bring forth, girl or boy, whichever it may be.' Poor Pascadozzia, in order to escape the peril in which she found herself, swore with one hand upon another to keep the promise. So the ogress let her go free. But when her time was come, Pascadozzia gave birth to a little girl, so beautiful that she was a joy to look upon, who, from having a fine sprig of parsley on her bosom, was named Parsley. And the little girl grew from day to day, until when she was seven years old her mother sent her to school; and every time she went along the street and met the ogress, the old woman said to her, 'Tell your mother to remember her promise.' And she went on repeating this message so often, that the poor mother, having no longer patience to listen to the same tale, said one day to Parsley, 'If you meet the old woman as usual, and she reminds you of the hateful promise, answer her, 'Take it!'' When Parsley, who dreamt of no ill, met the ogress again, and heard her repeat the same words, she answered innocently as her mother had told her; whereupon the ogress, seizing her by her hair, carried her off to a wood, which the sun never entered. Then she put the poor girl into a tower, which she caused to arise by her art, and which had neither gate nor ladder, but only a little window, through which she ascended and descended by means of Parsley's hair, which was very long, as the sailor is used to run up and down the mast of a ship. Now it happened one day, when the ogress had left the tower, that Parsley put her head out of the little window, and let loose her tresses in the sun; and the son of a prince passing by saw these two golden banners, which invited all souls to enlist under the standard of love; and beholding with amazement in the midst of those gleaming waves a siren's face, that enchanted all hearts, he fell desperately in love with such wonderful beauty; and sending her a memorial of sighs, she decreed to receive him into favor. Matters went on so well with the prince, that there was soon a nodding of heads and kissing of hands, thanks and offerings, hopes and promises, soft words and compliments. And when this had continued for several days, Parsley and the prince became so intimate that they made an appointment to meet, and agreed that it should be at night, and that Parsley should give the ogress some poppy juice, and draw up the prince with her tresses. So when the appointed hour came, the prince went to the tower, where Parsley, letting fall her hair at a given signal, he seized it with both his hands, and cried, 'Draw up!' And when he was drawn up, he crept through the little window into the chamber. The next morning early, the prince descended by the same golden ladder, to go his way home. And having repeated these visits many times, a gossip of the ogress, who was for ever prying into things that did not concern her, and poking her nose into every corner, got to find out the secret, and told the ogress to be upon the lookout, for that Parsley was courted by a youth. The ogress thanked the gossip for the information, and said she would take good care to stop up the road; and as to Parsley, it was impossible for her to escape, as she had laid a spell upon her, so that, unless she had in her hand the three gallnuts which were in a rafter in the kitchen, it would be labor lost to attempt to get away. Whilst they were talking thus together, Parsley, who stood with her ears wide open, and had some suspicion of the gossip, overheard all that passed. And when night had spread out her black garments, and the prince had come as usual, she made him climb onto the rafters and find the gallnuts, knowing well what effect they would have, as she had been enchanted by the ogress. Then, having made a rope ladder, they both descended to the ground, took to their heels, and scampered off towards the city. But the gossip happening to see them come out, set up a loud halloo, and began to shout and make such a noise that the ogress awoke; and seeing that Parsley had fled, she descended by the same ladder, which was fastened to the window, and set off running after the lovers, who, when they saw her coming at their heels faster than a horse let loose, gave themselves up for lost. But Parsley, recollecting the gallnuts, quickly threw one on the ground, and lo! instantly a Corsican bulldog started up, -- a terrible beast! -- which with open jaws and barking loud flew at the ogress as if to swallow her at a mouthful. But the old woman, who was more cunning and spiteful than the devil, put her hand into her pocket, and pulling out a piece of bread, gave it to the dog, which made him hang his tail and allay his fury. Then she turned to run after the fugitives again; but Parsley, seeing her approach, threw the second gallnut on the ground, and lo! a fierce lion arose, who, lashing the earth with his tail, and shaking his mane, and opening wide his jaws a yard apart, was just preparing to make a slaughter of the ogress; when, turning quickly back, she stripped the skin off an ass that was grazing in the middle of a meadow, and ran at the lion, who, fancying it a real jackass, was so frightened that he bounded away as fast as he could. The ogress, having leaped over this second ditch, turned again to pursue the poor lovers, who, hearing the clatter of her heels and seeing the cloud of dust that rose up to the sky, conjectured that she was coming again. But the old woman, who was every moment in dread lest the lion should pursue her, had not taken off the ass's skin; and when Parsley now threw down the third gallnut, there sprang up a wolf, who, without giving the ogress time to play any new trick, gobbled her up just as she was, in the shape of a jackass. So the lovers, being now freed from danger, went their way leisurely and quietly to the kingdom of the prince, where, with his father's free consent, he took Parsley to wife; and thus, after all these storms of fate, they experienced the truth, that One hour in port, the sailor freed from fears Forgets the tempests of a hundred years. Zeza's story was listened to with such delight to the end, that, had it even continued for an hour longer, the time would have appeared only a moment. Pentamerone; or, The Story of Stories, translated from the Neapolitan by John Edward Taylor, new edition revised and edited by Helen Zimmern (London: T. Tisher Unwin, 1894), pp. 56-62. This story is the first tale of day two in Basile's famous collection, first published in Naples under the title Lo cunto de li cunti overo lo trattenemiento de pecceril (The Tale of Tales; or, Entertainment for Little Ones) in two volumes, 1634 and 1636.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
310,Persinette,France,"Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de La Force, the French author of this tale was born about 1650 and died in 1724.","Le cabinet des fées; ou, Collection choisie des contes des fées, et autres contes merveilleux, vol. 6 (Geneve: Barde, Manget & Compagnie, 1785), pp. 43-57.","An English translation of this tale will be posted here in the near future. cabinet des fées; ou, Collection choisie des contes des fées, et autres contes merveilleux, vol. 6 (Geneve: Barde, Manget & Compagnie, 1785), pp. 43-57. Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de La Force, the French author of this tale was born about 1650 and died in 1724.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
310,Prunella,Italy,"Lang does not identify his source of this tale, but it appears to be: Domenico Comparetti and Alessandro d'Ancona, 'Prezzemolina,' Canti e Racconti del Popolo Italiano, vol. 7 (Turin and Rome: Ermanno Loescher, 1879), no. 20, pp. 110-15.","Andrew Lang, The Grey Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1900), pp. 382-87.","Now, the orchard belonged to a witch. One day the witch noticed the child gathering a plum, as she passed along the road. Prunella did it quite innocently, not knowing that she was doing wrong in taking the fruit that hung close to the roadside. But the witch was furious, and next day hid herself behind the hedge, and when Prunella came past, and put out her hand to pluck the fruit, she jumped out and seized her by the arm. 'Ah! you little thief!' she exclaimed. 'I have caught you at last. Now you will have to pay for your misdeeds.' The poor child, half dead with fright, implored the old woman to forgive her, assuring her that she did not know she had done wrong, and promising never to do it again. But the witch had no pity, and she dragged Prunella into her house, where she kept her till the time should come when she could have her revenge. As the years passed Prunella grew up into a very beautiful girl. Now her beauty and goodness, instead of softening the witch's heart, aroused her hatred and jealousy. One day she called Prunella to her, and said, 'Take this basket, go to the well, and bring it back to me filled with water. If you don't I will kill you.' The girl took the basket, went and let it down into the well again and again. But her work was lost labor. Each time, as she drew up the basket, the water streamed out of it. At last, in despair, she gave it up, and leaning against the well she began to cry bitterly, when suddenly she heard a voice at her side saying, 'Prunella, why are you crying?' Turning round she beheld a handsome youth, who looked kindly at her, as if he were sorry for her trouble. 'Who are you,' she asked, 'and how do you know my name?' 'I am the son of the witch,' he replied, 'and my name is Bensiabel. I know that she is determined that you shall die, but I promise you that she shall not carry out her wicked plan. Will you give me a kiss, if I fill your basket?' 'No,' said Prunella, 'I will not give you a kiss, because you are the son of a witch.' 'Very well,' replied the youth sadly. 'Give me your basket and I will fill it for you.' And he dipped it into the well, and the water stayed in it. Then the girl returned to the house, carrying the basket filled with water. When the witch saw it, she became white with rage, and exclaimed, 'Bensiabel must have helped you.' And Prunella looked down, and said nothing. 'Well, we shall see who will win in the end,' said the witch, in a great rage. The following day she called the girl to her and said, 'Take this sack of wheat. I am going out for a little; by the time I return I shall expect you to have made it into bread. If you have not done it I will kill you.' Having said this she left the room, closing and locking the door behind her. Poor Prunella did not know what to do. It was impossible for her to grind the wheat, prepare the dough, and bake the bread, all in the short time that the witch would be away. At first she set to work bravely, but when she saw how hopeless her task was, she threw herself on a chair, and began to weep bitterly. She was roused from her despair by hearing Bensiabel's voice at her side saying. 'Prunella, Prunella, do not weep like that. If you will give me a kiss I will make the bread, and you will be saved.' 'I will not kiss the son of a witch,' replied Prunella. But Bensiabel took the wheat from her, and ground it, and made the dough, and when the witch returned the bread was ready baked in the oven. Turning to the girl, with fury in her voice, she said. 'Bensiabel must have been here and helped you;' and Prunella looked down, and said nothing. 'We shall see who will win in the end,' said the witch, and her eyes blazed with anger. Next day she called the girl to her and said, 'Go to my sister, who lives across the mountains. She will give you a casket, which you must bring back to me.' This she said knowing that her sister, who was a still more cruel and wicked witch than herself, would never allow the girl to return, but would imprison her and starve her to death. But Prunella did not suspect anything, and set out quite cheerfully. On the way she met Bensiabel. 'Where are you going, Prunella?' he asked. 'I am going to the sister of my mistress, from whom I am to fetch a casket.' 'Oh poor, poor girl!' said Bensiabel. 'You are being sent straight to your death. Give me a kiss, and I will save you.' But again Prunella answered as before, 'I will not kiss the son of a witch.' 'Nevertheless, I will save your life,' said Bensiabel, 'for I love you better than myself. Take this flagon of oil, this loaf of bread, this piece of rope, and this broom. When you reach the witch's house, oil the hinges of the door with the contents of the flagon, and throw the loaf of bread to the great fierce mastiff, who will come to meet you. When you have passed the dog, you will see in the courtyard a miserable woman trying in vain to let down a bucket into the well with her plaited hair. You must give her the rope. In the kitchen you will find a still more miserable woman trying to clean the hearth with her tongue; to her you must give the broom. You will see the casket on the top of a cupboard, take it as quickly as you can, and leave the house without a moment's delay. If you do all this exactly as I have told you, you will not be killed.' So Prunella, having listened carefully to his instructions, did just what he had told her. She reached the house, oiled the hinges of the door, threw the loaf to the dog, gave the poor woman at the well the rope, and the woman in the kitchen the broom, caught up the casket from the top of the cupboard, and fled with it out of the house. But the witch heard her as she ran away, and rushing to the window called out to the woman in the kitchen, 'Kill that thief, I tell you!' But the woman replied, 'I will not kill her, for she has given me a broom, whereas you forced me to clean the hearth with my tongue.' Then the witch called out in fury to the woman at the well. 'Take the girl, I tell you, and fling her into the water, and drown her!' But the woman answered, 'No, I will not drown her, for she gave me this rope, whereas you forced me to use my hair to let down the bucket to draw water.' Then the witch shouted to the dog to seize the girl and hold her fast; but the dog answered, 'No, I will not seize her, for she gave me a loaf of bread, whereas you let me starve with hunger.' The witch was so angry that she nearly choked, as she called out, 'Door, bang upon her, and keep her a prisoner.' But the door answered, 'I won't, for she has oiled my hinges, so that they move quite easily, whereas you left them all rough and rusty.' And so Prunella escaped, and, with the casket under her arm, reached the house of her mistress, who, as you may believe, was as angry as she was surprised to see the girl standing before her, looking more beautiful than ever. Her eyes flashed, as in furious tones she asked her, 'Did you meet Bensiabel?' But Prunella looked down, and said nothing. 'We shall see,' said the witch, 'who will win in the end. Listen, there are three cocks in the henhouse; one is yellow, one black, and the third is white. If one of them crows during the night you must tell me which one it is. Woe to you if you make a mistake. I will gobble you up in one mouthful.' Now Bensiabel was in the room next to the one where Prunella slept. At midnight she awoke hearing a cock crow. 'Which one was that?' shouted the witch. Then, trembling, Prunella knocked on the wall and whispered. 'Bensiabel, Bensiabel, tell me, which cock crowed?' 'Will you give me a kiss if I tell you?' he whispered back through the wall. But she answered 'No.' Then he whispered back to her. 'Nevertheless, I will tell you. It was the yellow cock that crowed.' The witch, who had noticed the delay in Prunella's answer, approached her door calling angrily, 'Answer at once, or I will kill you.' So Prunella answered. 'It was the yellow cock that crowed.' And the witch stamped her foot and gnashed her teeth. Soon after another cock crowed. 'Tell me now which one it is,' called the witch. And, prompted by Bensiabel, Prunella answered, 'That is the black cock.' A few minutes after the crowing was heard again, and the voice of the witch demanding, 'Which one was that? 'And again Prunella implored Bensiabel to help her. But this time he hesitated, for he hoped that Prunella might forget that he was a witch's son, and promise to give him a kiss. And as he hesitated he heard an agonized cry from the girl. 'Bensiabel, Bensiabel, save me! The witch is coining, she is close to me, I hear the gnashing of her teeth!' With a bound Bensiabel opened his door and flung himself against the witch. He pulled her back with such force that she stumbled, and falling headlong, dropped down dead at the foot of the stairs. Then, at last, Prunella was touched by Bensiabel's goodness and kindness to her, and she became his wife, and they lived happily ever after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
310,The Fair Angiola,Italy,"Crane's source: Laura Gonzenbach, 'Von der schönen Angiola,' Sicilianische Märchen: Aus dem Volksmund gesammelt, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1870), no. 53, pp. 339-44.","Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), pp. 26-30.","Then she resolved the third day to remain in the garden herself. In the middle of it was a hole, in which she hid and covered herself with leaves and branches, leaving only one of her long ears sticking out. The seven neighbors once more went into the garden and began picking jujubes, when one of them noticed the witch's ear sticking out of the leaves and thought it was a mushroom and tried to pick it. Then the witch jumped out of the hole and ran after the women, all of whom escaped but one. The witch was going to eat her, but she begged hard for pardon and promised never to enter the garden again. The witch finally forgave her on the condition that she would give her her child, yet unborn, whether a boy or girl, when it was seven years old. The poor woman promised in her distress, and the witch let her go. Some time after the woman had a beautiful little girl whom she named Angiola. When Angiola was six years old, her mother sent her to school to learn to sew and knit. On her way to school she had to pass the garden where the witch lived. One day, when she was almost seven, she saw the witch standing in front of her garden. She beckoned to Angiola and gave her some fine fruits and said, 'You see, fair Angiola, I am your aunt. Tell your mother you have seen your aunt, and she sends her word not to forget her promise.' Angiola went home and told her mother, who was frightened and said to herself, 'Ah! the time has come when I must give up my Angiola.' Then she said to the child, 'When your aunt asks you tomorrow for an answer, tell her you forgot her errand.' The next day she told the witch as she was directed. 'Very well,' she replied, 'tell her today, but don't forget.' Thus several days passed; the witch was constantly on the watch for Angiola when she went to school, and wanted to know her mother's answer, but Angiola always declared that she had forgotten to ask her. One day, however, the witch became angry and said, 'Since you are so forgetful, I must give you some token to remind you of your errand.' Then she bit Angiola's little finger so hard that she bit a piece out. Angiola went home in tears and showed her mother her finger. 'Ah!' thought her mother, 'there is no help for it. I must give my poor child to the witch, or else she will eat her up in her anger.' The next morning as Angiola was going to school, her mother said to her, 'Tell your aunt to do with you as she thinks best.' Angiola did so, and the witch said, 'Very well, then come with me, for you are mine.' So the witch took the fair Angiola with her and led her away to a tower which had no door and but one small window. There Angiola lived with the witch, who treated her very kindly, for she loved her as her own child. When the witch came home after her excursions, she stood under the window and cried, 'Angiola, fair Angiola, let down your pretty tresses and pull me up!' Now Angiola had beautiful long hair, which she let down and with which she pulled the witch up. Now it happened one day when Angiola had grown to be a large and beautiful maiden, that the king's son went hunting and chanced to come where the tower was. He was astonished at seeing the house without any door, and wondered how the people got in. Just then the old witch returned home, stood under the window, and called, 'Angiola, fair Angiola, let down your beautiful tresses and pull me up.' Immediately the beautiful tresses fell down, and the witch climbed up by them. This pleased the prince greatly, and he hid himself near by until the witch went away again. Then he went and stood under the window and called, 'Angiola, fair Angiola, let down your beautiful tresses and pull me up.' Then Angiola let down her tresses and drew up the prince, for she believed it was the witch. When she saw the prince, she was much frightened at first, but he addressed her in a friendly manner and begged her to fly with him and become his wife. She finally consented, and in order that the witch should not know where she had gone she gave all the chairs, tables, and cupboards in the house something to eat; for they were all living beings and might betray her. The broom, however, stood behind the door, so she did not notice it, and gave it nothing to eat. Then she took from the witch's chamber three magic balls of yarn, and fled with the prince. The witch had a little dog that loved the fair Angiola so dearly that it followed her. Soon after they had fled, the witch came back, and called, 'Angiola, fair Angiola, let down your beautiful tresses and draw me up.' But the tresses were not let down for all she called, and at last she had to get a long ladder and climb in at the window. When she could not find Angiola, she asked the tables and chairs and cupboards, 'Where has she fled?' But they answered, 'We do not know.' The broom, however, called out from the corner, 'The fair Angiola has fled with the king's son, who is going to marry her.' Then the witch started in pursuit of them and nearly overtook them. But Angiola threw down behind her one of the magic balls of yarn, and there arose a great mountain of soap. When the witch tried to climb it she slipped back, but she persevered until at last she succeeded in getting over it, and hastened after the fugitives. Then Angiola threw down the second ball of yarn, and there arose a great mountain covered all over with nails small and large. Again the witch had to struggle hard to cross it; when she did she was almost flayed. When Angiola saw that the witch had almost overtaken them again, she threw down the third ball, and there arose a mighty torrent. The witch tried to swim across it, but the stream kept increasing in size until she had at last to turn back. Then in her anger she cursed the fair Angiola, saying, 'May your beautiful face be turned into the face of a dog!' and instantly Angiola's face became a dog's face. The prince was very sorrowful and said, 'How can I take you home to my parents? They would never allow me to marry a maiden with a dog's face.' So he took her to a little house, where she was to live until the enchantment was removed. He himself returned to his parents; but whenever he went hunting he visited poor Angiola. She often wept bitterly over her misfortunes, until one day the little dog that had followed her from the witch's said, 'Do not weep, fair Angiola. I will go to the witch and beg her to remove the enchantment.' Then the little dog started off and returned to the witch and sprang up on her and caressed her. 'Are you here again, you ungrateful beast?' cried the witch, and pushed the dog away. 'Did you leave me to follow the ungrateful Angiola?' But the little dog caressed her until she grew friendly again and took him up on her lap. 'Mother,' said the little dog,' Angiola sends you greeting; she is very sad, for she cannot go to the palace with her dog's face and cannot marry the prince.' 'That serves her right,' said the witch.' Why did she deceive me? She can keep her dog's face now!' But the dog begged her so earnestly, saying that poor Angiola was sufficiently punished, that at last the witch gave the dog a flask of water, and said, 'Take that to her and she will become the fair Angiola again.' The dog thanked her, ran off with the flask, and brought it safely to poor Angiola. As soon as she washed in the water, her dog's face disappeared and she became beautiful again, more beautiful even than she had been before. The prince, full of joy, took her to the palace, and the king and queen were so pleased with her beauty that they welcomed her, and gave her a splendid wedding, and all remained happy and contented.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
333,Little Red Cap,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"The Grimms' source for the first variant (the main story) was Jeanette Hassenpflug (1791-1860). Marie Hassenpflug (1788-1856) provided them with the second variant (the concluding episode, introduced with the sentence 'They also tell how Little Red Cap was taking some baked things to her grandmother another time....' The German title of this tale is Rotkäppchen (Rothkäppchen in the nineteenth-century spelling of the Grimm brothers). Link to an English translation of the Grimms' final version (edition of 1857) of Little Red Cap. Link to the German text of the Grimms' final version: 'Rothkäppchen,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, 7th edition, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 26, pp. 140-44. Link to the Grimm Brothers Home Page.","'Rothkäppchen,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), v. 1, no. 26, pp. 113-18. Translated by D. L. Ashliman.","One day her mother said to her, 'Come Little Red Cap. Here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your grandmother. She is sick and weak, and they will do her well. Mind your manners and give her my greetings. Behave yourself on the way, and do not leave the path, or you might fall down and break the glass, and then there will be nothing for your sick grandmother.' Little Red Cap promised to obey her mother. The grandmother lived out in the woods, a half hour from the village. When Little Red Cap entered the woods a wolf came up to her. She did not know what a wicked animal he was, and was not afraid of him. 'Good day to you, Little Red Cap.' 'Thank you, wolf.' 'Where are you going so early, Little Red Cap?' 'To grandmother's.' 'And what are you carrying under your apron?' 'Grandmother is sick and weak, and I am taking her some cake and wine. We baked yesterday, and they should give her strength.' 'Little Red Cap, just where does your grandmother live?' 'Her house is a good quarter hour from here in the woods, under the three large oak trees. There's a hedge of hazel bushes there. You must know the place,' said Little Red Cap. The wolf thought to himself, 'Now there is a tasty bite for me. Just how are you going to catch her?' Then he said, 'Listen, Little Red Cap, haven't you seen the beautiful flowers that are blossoming in the woods? Why don't you go and take a look? And I don't believe you can hear how beautifully the birds are singing. You are walking along as though you were on your way to school in the village. It is very beautiful in the woods.' Little Red Cap opened her eyes and saw the sunlight breaking through the trees and how the ground was covered with beautiful flowers. She thought, 'If a take a bouquet to grandmother, she will be very pleased. Anyway, it is still early, and I'll be home on time.' And she ran off into the woods looking for flowers. Each time she picked one she thought that she could see an even more beautiful one a little way off, and she ran after it, going further and further into the woods. But the wolf ran straight to the grandmother's house and knocked on the door. 'Who's there?' 'Little Red Cap. I'm bringing you some cake and wine. Open the door for me.' 'Just press the latch,' called out the grandmother. 'I'm too weak to get up.' The wolf pressed the latch, and the door opened. He stepped inside, went straight to the grandmother's bed, and ate her up. Then he took her clothes, put them on, and put her cap on his head. He got into her bed and pulled the curtains shut. Little Red Cap had run after flowers, and did not continue on her way to grandmother's until she had gathered all that she could carry. When she arrived, she found, to her surprise, that the door was open. She walked into the parlor, and everything looked so strange that she thought, 'Oh, my God, why am I so afraid? I usually like it at grandmother's.' Then she went to the bed and pulled back the curtains. Grandmother was lying there with her cap pulled down over her face and looking very strange. 'Oh, grandmother, what big ears you have!' 'All the better to hear you with.' 'Oh, grandmother, what big eyes you have!' 'All the better to see you with.' 'Oh, grandmother, what big hands you have!' 'All the better to grab you with!' 'Oh, grandmother, what a horribly big mouth you have!' 'All the better to eat you with!' And with that he jumped out of bed, jumped on top of poor Little Red Cap, and ate her up. As soon as the wolf had finished this tasty bite, he climbed back into bed, fell asleep, and began to snore very loudly. A huntsman was just passing by. He thought it strange that the old woman was snoring so loudly, so he decided to take a look. He stepped inside, and in the bed there lay the wolf that he had been hunting for such a long time. 'He has eaten the grandmother, but perhaps she still can be saved. I won't shoot him,' thought the huntsman. So he took a pair of scissors and cut open his belly. He had cut only a few strokes when he saw the red cap shining through. He cut a little more, and the girl jumped out and cried, 'Oh, I was so frightened! It was so dark inside the wolf's body!' And then the grandmother came out alive as well. Then Little Red Cap fetched some large heavy stones. They filled the wolf's body with them, and when he woke up and tried to run away, the stones were so heavy that he fell down dead. The three of them were happy. The huntsman took the wolf's pelt. The grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine that Little Red Cap had brought. And Little Red Cap thought to herself, 'As long as I live, I will never leave the path and run off into the woods by myself if mother tells me not to.' They also tell how Little Red Cap was taking some baked things to her grandmother another time, when another wolf spoke to her and wanted her to leave the path. But Little Red Cap took care and went straight to grandmother's. She told her that she had seen the wolf, and that he had wished her a good day, but had stared at her in a wicked manner. 'If we hadn't been on a public road, he would have eaten me up,' she said. 'Come,' said the grandmother. 'Let's lock the door, so he can't get in.' Soon afterward the wolf knocked on the door and called out, 'Open up, grandmother. It's Little Red Cap, and I'm bringing you some baked things.' They remained silent, and did not open the door. The wicked one walked around the house several times, and finally jumped onto the roof. He wanted to wait until Little Red Cap went home that evening, then follow her and eat her up in the darkness. But the grandmother saw what he was up to. There was a large stone trough in front of the house. 'Fetch a bucket, Little Red Cap,' she said. 'Yesterday I cooked some sausage. Carry the water that I boiled them with to the trough.' Little Red Cap carried water until the large, large trough was clear full. The smell of sausage arose into the wolf's nose. He sniffed and looked down, stretching his neck so long that he could no longer hold himself, and he began to slide. He slid off the roof, fell into the trough, and drowned. And Little Red Cap returned home happily and safely.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
333,Little Red Hat,Italy/Austria,The Italian title of this story is 'El cappelin rosso.',"Christian Schneller, 'Das Rothhütchen,' Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol: Ein Beitrag zur deutschen Sagenkunde (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 6, pp. 9-10. Translated by D. L. Ashliman. © 2007.","Once there was an old woman who had a granddaughter named Little Red Hat. One day they were both in the field when the old woman said, 'I am going home now. You come along later and bring me some soup.' After a while Little Red Hat set out for her grandmother's house, and she met an ogre, who said, 'Hello, my dear Little Red Hat. Where are you going?' 'I am going to my grandmother's to take her some soup.' 'Good,' he replied, 'I'll come along too. Are you going across the stones or the thorns?' 'I'm going across the stones,' said the girl. 'Then I'll go across the thorns,' replied the ogre. They left. But on the way Little Red Hat came to a meadow where beautiful flowers of all colors were in bloom, and the girl picked as many as her heart desired. Meanwhile the ogre hurried on his way, and although he had to cross the thorns, he arrived at the house before Little Red Hat. He went inside, killed the grandmother, ate her up, and climbed into her bed. He also tied her intestine onto the door in place of the latch string and placed her blood, teeth, and jaws in the kitchen cupboard. He had barely climbed into bed when Little Red Hat arrived and knocked at the door. 'Come in' called the ogre with a dampened voice. Little Red Hat tried to open the door, but when she noticed that she was pulling on something soft, she called out, 'Grandmother, this thing is so soft!' 'Just pull and keep quiet. It is your grandmother's intestine!' 'What did you say?' 'Just pull and keep quiet!' Little Red Hat opened the door, went inside, and said, 'Grandmother, I am hungry.' The ogre replied, 'Go to the kitchen cupboard. There is still a little rice there.' Little Red Hat went to the cupboard and took the teeth out. 'Grandmother, these things are very hard!' 'Eat and keep quiet. They are your grandmother's teeth!' 'Eat and keep quiet!' A little while later Little Red Hat said, 'Grandmother, I'm still hungry.' 'Go back to the cupboard,' said the ogre. 'You will find two pieces of chopped meat there.' Little Red Hat went to the cupboard and took out the jaws. 'Grandmother, this is very red!' 'Eat and keep quiet. They are your grandmother's jaws!' A little while later Little Red Hat said, 'Grandmother, I'm thirsty.' 'Just look in the cupboard,' said the ogre. 'There must be a little wine there.' Little Red Hat went to the cupboard and took out the blood. 'Grandmother, this wine is very red!' 'Drink and keep quiet. It is your grandmother's blood! 'Just drink and keep quiet!' A little while later Little Red Hat said, 'Grandmother, I'm sleepy.' 'Take off your clothes and get into bed with me!' replied the ogre. Little Red Hat got into bed and noticed something hairy. 'Grandmother, you are so hairy!' 'That comes with age,' said the ogre. 'Grandmother, you have such long legs!' 'That comes from walking.' 'Grandmother, you have such long hands!' 'That comes from working.' 'Grandmother, you have such long ears!' 'That comes from listening.' 'Grandmother, you have such a big mouth!' 'That comes from eating children!' said the ogre, and bam, he swallowed",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
333,Little Red Hood,Lower Lusatia,"Lower Lusatia (German Niederlausitz, Polish Dolne Łużyce) is a mixed German and Slavic historical and cultural region in today's eastern German and western Poland. Note by Wratslaw: 'Little Red Hood,' like many folklore tales, is a singular mixture of myth and morality. In Cox's Comparative Mythology, vol. ii., p. 831, note, Little Redcap, or Little Red Riding Hood, is interpreted as 'the evening with her scarlet robe of twilight,' who is swallowed up by the wolf of darkness, the Fenris of the Edda. It appears to me that this explanation may suit the color of her cap or hood, but is at variance with the other incidents of the story. I am inclined to look upon the tale as a lunar legend, although the moon is only actually red during one portion of the year, at the harvest moon in the autumn. Red Hood is represented as wandering, like Io, who is undoubtedly the moon, through trees, the clouds, and flowers, the stars, before she reaches the place where she is intercepted by the wolf. An eclipse to untutored minds would naturally suggest the notion that some evil beast was endeavoring to devour the moon, who is afterwards rescued by the sun, the archer of the heavens, whose bow and arrow are by a common anachronism represented in the story by a gun. Though the moon is masculine in Slavonic, as in German, yet she is a lady, 'my lady Luna,' in the Croatian legend no. 53, below ['The Daughter of the King of the Vilas']. In the Norse mythology, when Loki is let loose at the end of the world, he is to 'hurry in the form of a wolf to swallow the moon ' (Cox ii., p. 200). The present masculine Slavonic word for moon, which is also that for month, mesic, or mesec, is a secondary formation, the original word having perished. In Greek and Latin the moon is always feminine.","A. H. Wratislaw, Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources (London: Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 15, pp. 97-100.","Once upon a time, there was a little darling damsel, whom everybody loved that looked upon her, but her old granny loved her best of all, and didn't know what to give the dear child for love. Once she made her a hood of red samite, and since that became her so well, and she, too, would wear nothing else on her head, people gave her the name of 'Red Hood.' Once her mother said to Red Hood, 'Go; here is a slice of cake and a bottle of wine; carry them to old granny. She is ill and weak, and they will refresh her. But be pretty behaved, and don't peep about in all corners when you come into her room, and don't forget to say 'Good-day.' Walk, too, prettily, and don't go out of the road, otherwise you will fall and break the bottle, and then poor granny will have nothing.' Red Hood said, 'I will observe everything well that you have told me,' and gave her mother her hand upon it. But granny lived out in a forest, half an hour's walk from the village. When Red Hood went into the forest, she met a wolf. But she did not know what a wicked beast he was, and was not afraid of him. 'God help you, Red Hood!' said he. 'God bless you, wolf!' replied she. 'Whither so early, Red Hood?' 'To granny.' 'What have you there under your mantle?' 'Cake and wine. We baked yesterday; old granny must have a good meal for once, and strengthen herself therewith.' 'Where does your granny live, Red Hood?' 'A good quarter of an hour's walk further in the forest, under yon three large oaks. There stands her house; further beneath are the nut trees, which you will see there,' said Red Hood. The wolf thought within himself, 'This nice young damsel is a rich morsel. She will taste better than the old woman; but you must trick her cleverly, that you may catch both.' For a time he went by Red Hood's side Then said he, 'Red Hood! Just look! There are such pretty flowers here! Why don't you look round at them all? Methinks you don't even hear how delightfully the birds are singing! You are as dull as if you were going to school, and yet it is so cheerful in the forest!' Little Red Hood lifted up her eyes, and when she saw how the sun's rays glistened through the tops of the trees, and every place was full of flowers, she bethought herself, 'If I bring with me a sweet smelling nosegay to granny, it will cheer her. It is still so early, that I shall come to her in plenty of time,' and therewith she skipped into the forest and looked for flowers. And when she had plucked one, she fancied that another further off was nicer, and ran there, and went always deeper and deeper into the forest. But the wolf went by the straight road to old granny's, and knocked at the door. 'Who's there?' 'Little Red Hood, who has brought cake and wine. Open!' 'Only press the latch,' cried granny. 'I am so weak that I cannot stand.' The wolf pressed the latch, walked in, and went without saying a word straight to granny's bed and ate her up. Then he took her clothes, dressed himself in them, put her cap on his head, lay down in her bed and drew the curtains. Meanwhile little Red Hood was running after flowers, and when she had so many that she could not carry any more, she bethought her of her granny, and started on the way to her. It seemed strange to her that the door was wide open, and when she entered the room everything seemed to her so peculiar, that she thought, 'Ah! My God! How strange I feel today, and yet at other times I am so glad to be with granny!' She said, 'Good-day!' but received no answer. Thereupon she went to the bed and undrew the curtains. There lay granny, with her cap drawn down to her eyes, and looking so queer! 'Ah, granny! Why have you such long ears?' 'The better to hear you.' 'Ah, granny! Why have you such large eyes?' 'The better to see you.' 'Ah, granny! Why have you such large hands?' 'The better to take hold of you.' 'But, granny! Why have you such a terribly large mouth?' 'The better to eat you up!' And therewith the wolf sprang out of bed at once on poor little Red Hood, and ate her up. When the wolf had satisfied his appetite, he lay down again in the bed, and began to snore tremendously. A huntsman came past, and bethought himself, 'How can an old woman snore like that? I'll just have a look to see what it is.' He went into the room, and looked into the bed; there lay the wolf. 'Have I found you now, old rascal?' said he. 'I've long been looking for you.' He was just going to take aim with his gun, when he bethought himself, 'Perhaps the wolf has only swallowed granny, and she may yet be released.' Therefore he did not shoot, but took a knife and began to cut open the sleeping wolf's maw. When he had made several cuts, he saw a red hood gleam, and after one or two more cuts out skipped Red Hood, and cried, 'Oh, how frightened I have been; it was so dark in the wolf's maw!' Afterwards out came old granny, still alive, but scarcely able to breathe. But Red Hood made haste and fetched large stones, with which they filled the wolf's maw, and when he woke he wanted to jump up and run away, but the stones were so heavy that he fell on the ground and beat himself to death. Now, they were all three merry. The huntsman took off the wolf's skin; granny ate the cake and drank the wine which little Red Hood had brought, and became strong and well again; and little Red Hood thought to herself, 'As long as I live, I won't go out of the road into the forest, when mother has forbidden me.' Stock, 1889), no. 15, pp. 97-100. Lower Lusatia (German Niederlausitz, Polish Dolne Łużyce) is a mixed German and Slavic historical and cultural region in today's eastern German and western Poland. Note by Wratslaw: 'Little Red Hood,' like many folklore tales, is a singular mixture of myth and morality. In Cox's Comparative Mythology, vol. ii., p. 831, note, Little Redcap, or Little Red Riding Hood, is interpreted as 'the evening with her scarlet robe of twilight,' who is swallowed up by the wolf of darkness, the Fenris of the Edda. It appears to me that this explanation may suit the color of her cap or hood, but is at variance with the other incidents of the story. I am inclined to look upon the tale as a lunar legend, although the moon is only actually red during one portion of the year, at the harvest moon in the autumn. Red Hood is represented as wandering, like Io, who is undoubtedly the moon, through trees, the clouds, and flowers, the stars, before she reaches the place where she is intercepted by the wolf. An eclipse to untutored minds would naturally suggest the notion that some evil beast was endeavoring to devour the moon, who is afterwards rescued by the sun, the archer of the heavens, whose bow and arrow are by a common anachronism represented in the story by a gun. Though the moon is masculine in Slavonic, as in German, yet she is a lady, 'my lady Luna,' in the Croatian legend no. 53, below ['The Daughter of the King of the Vilas']. In the Norse mythology, when Loki is let loose at the end of the world, he is to 'hurry in the form of a wolf to swallow the moon ' (Cox ii., p. 200). The present masculine Slavonic word for moon, which is also that for month, mesic, or mesec, is a secondary formation, the original word having perished. In Greek and Latin the moon is always feminine.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
333,Little Red Riding Hood,Charles Perrault,The French title of this famous tale is 'Le Petit Chaperon rouge.' Link to a French-language text of Le Petit Chaperon rouge. Link to D. L. Ashliman's home page for Charles Perrault's Mother Goose Tales.,"Andrew Lang, The Blue Fairy Book, 5th edition (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1891), pp. 51-53. Lang's source: Charles Perrault, Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye (Paris, 1697).","Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a little country girl, the prettiest creature who was ever seen. Her mother was excessively fond of her; and her grandmother doted on her still more. This good woman had a little red riding hood made for her. It suited the girl so extremely well that everybody called her Little Red Riding Hood. One day her mother, having made some cakes, said to her, 'Go, my dear, and see how your grandmother is doing, for I hear she has been very ill. Take her a cake, and this little pot of butter.' Little Red Riding Hood set out immediately to go to her grandmother, who lived in another village. As she was going through the wood, she met with a wolf, who had a very great mind to eat her up, but he dared not, because of some woodcutters working nearby in the forest. He asked her where she was going. The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stay and talk to a wolf, said to him, 'I am going to see my grandmother and carry her a cake and a little pot of butter from my mother.' 'Does she live far off?' said the wolf 'Oh I say,' answered Little Red Riding Hood; 'it is beyond that mill you see there, at the first house in the village.' 'Well,' said the wolf, 'and I'll go and see her too. I'll go this way and go you that, and we shall see who will be there first.' The wolf ran as fast as he could, taking the shortest path, and the little girl took a roundabout way, entertaining herself by gathering nuts, running after butterflies, and gathering bouquets of little flowers. It was not long before the wolf arrived at the old woman's house. He knocked at the door: tap, tap. 'Who's there?' 'Your grandchild, Little Red Riding Hood,' replied the wolf, counterfeiting her voice; 'who has brought you a cake and a little pot of butter sent you by mother.' The good grandmother, who was in bed, because she was somewhat ill, cried out, 'Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.' The wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened, and then he immediately fell upon the good woman and ate her up in a moment, for it been more than three days since he had eaten. He then shut the door and got into the grandmother's bed, expecting Little Red Riding Hood, who came some time afterwards and knocked at the door: tap, tap. Little Red Riding Hood, hearing the big voice of the wolf, was at first afraid; but believing her grandmother had a cold and was hoarse, answered, 'It is your grandchild Little Red Riding Hood, who has brought you a cake and a little pot of butter mother sends you.' The wolf cried out to her, softening his voice as much as he could, 'Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.' Little Red Riding Hood pulled the bobbin, and the door opened. The wolf, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bedclothes, 'Put the cake and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come get into bed with me.' Little Red Riding Hood took off her clothes and got into bed. She was greatly amazed to see how her grandmother looked in her nightclothes, and said to her, 'Grandmother, what big arms you have!' 'All the better to hug you with, my dear.' 'Grandmother, what big legs you have!' 'All the better to run with, my child.' 'Grandmother, what big ears you have!' 'All the better to hear with, my child.' 'Grandmother, what big eyes you have!' 'All the better to see with, my child.' 'Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!' 'All the better to eat you up with.' And, saying these words, this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and ate her all up. Moral: Children, especially attractive, well bred young ladies, should never talk to strangers, for if they should do so, they may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say 'wolf,' but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young women at home and in the streets. And unfortunately, it is these gentle wolves who are the most dangerous ones of all. pp. 51-53. Lang's source: Charles Perrault, Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités: Contes de ma mère l'Oye (Paris, 1697). Petit Chaperon rouge.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
333,The Grandmother,France,"Collected by folklorist Achille Millien (1838-1927) in the French province of Nivernais, about 1870.","Conte de la mère-grand, from a website sponsored by the Bibliothèque nationale de France. Translated by D. L. Ashliman. © 2007.","There was a woman who had made some bread. She said to her daughter, 'Go and carry a hot loaf and a bottle of milk to your grandmother.' So the little girl set forth. Where two paths crossed she met the bzou [werewolf], who said to her, 'Where are you going?' 'I am carrying a hot loaf and a bottle of milk to my grandmother.' 'Which path are you taking? said the bzou. 'The one of needles or the one of pins?' 'The one of needles,' said the little girl. 'Good! I am taking the one of pins.' The little girl entertained herself by gathering needles. The bzou arrived at the grandmother's house and killed her. He put some of her flesh in the pantry and a bottle of her blood on the shelf. The little girl arrived and knocked at the door. 'Push on the door,' said the bzou. 'It is blocked with a pail of water.' 'Good day, grandmother. I have brought you a hot loaf and a bottle of milk.' 'Put it in the pantry, my child. Take some of the meat that is there, and the bottle of wine that is on the shelf.' While she was eating, a little cat that was there said, 'For shame! The slut is eating her grandmother's flesh and drinking her grandmother's blood.' 'Get undressed, my child,' said the bzou, and come to bed with me.' 'Where should I put my apron?' 'Throw it into the fire. You won't need it anymore.' And for all her clothes -- her bodice, her dress, her petticoat, and her shoes and stockings -- she asked where she should put them, and the wolf replied, 'Throw them into the fire, my child. You won't need them anymore.' When she had gone to bed the little girl said, 'Oh, grandmother, how hairy you are!' 'The better to keep myself warm, my child.' 'Oh, grandmother, what long nails you have!' 'The better to scratch myself with, my child!' 'Oh, grandmother, what big shoulders you have!' 'The better to carry firewood with, my child!' 'Oh, grandmother, what big ears you have!' 'The better to hear with, my child!' 'Oh, grandmother, what a big nose you have!' 'To better take my tobacco with, my child!' 'Oh, grandmother, what a big mouth you have!' 'The better to eat you with, my child!' 'Oh, grandmother, I have to do it outside!' 'Do it in the bed, my child!' 'Oh no, grandmother, I really have to do it outside.' 'All right, but don't take too long.' The bzou tied a woolen thread to her foot and let her go. As soon as the little girl was outside she tied the end of the thread to a plum tree in the yard. The bzou grew impatient and said, 'Are you doing a load? Are you doing a load?' Not hearing anyone reply, he jumped out of bed and hurried after the little girl, who had escaped. He followed her, but he arrived at her home just as she went inside. mère-grand, from a website sponsored by the Bibliothèque nationale de France. Translated by D. L. Ashliman. province of Nivernais, about 1870.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
333,The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck,Beatrix Potter,NA,"Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck (New York: Frederick Warne and Company, 1908).","What a funny sight it is to see a brood of ducklings with a hen! -- Listen to the story of Jemima Puddle-duck, who was annoyed because the farmer's wife would not let her hatch her own eggs. Her sister-in-law, Mrs. Rebeccah Puddle-duck, was perfectly willing to leave the hatching to some one else -- 'I have not the patience to sit on a nest for twenty-eight days; and no more have you, Jemima. You would let them go cold; you know you would!' 'I wish to hatch my own eggs; I will hatch them all by myself,' quacked Jemima Puddle-duck. She tried to hide her eggs; but they were always found and carried off. Jemima Puddle-duck became quite desperate. She determined to make a nest right away from the farm. She set off on a fine spring afternoon along the cart-road that leads over the hill. She was wearing a shawl and a poke bonnet. When she reached the top of the hill, she saw a wood in the distance. She thought that it looked a safe quiet spot. Jemima Puddle-duck was not much in the habit of flying. She ran downhill a few yards flapping her shawl, and then she jumped off into the air. She flew beautifully when she had got a good start. She skimmed along over the tree-tops until she saw an open place in the middle of the wood, where the trees and brushwood had been cleared. Jemima alighted rather heavily, and began to waddle about in search of a convenient dry nesting-place. She rather fancied a tree-stump amongst some tall fox-gloves. But -- seated upon the stump, she was startled to find an elegantly dressed gentleman reading a newspaper. He had black prick ears and sandy coloured whiskers. 'Quack?' said Jemima Puddle-duck, with her head and her bonnet on one side -- 'Quack?' The gentleman raised his eyes above his newspaper and looked curiously at Jemima -- 'Madam, have you lost your way?' said he. He had a long bushy tail which he was sitting upon, as the stump was somewhat damp. Jemima thought him mighty civil and handsome. She explained that she had not lost her way, but that she was trying to find a convenient dry nesting-place. 'Ah! is that so? indeed!' said the gentleman with sandy whiskers, looking curiously at Jemima. He folded up the newspaper, and put it in his coat-tail pocket. Jemima complained of the superfluous hen. 'Indeed! how interesting! I wish I could meet with that fowl. I would teach it to mind its own business!' 'But as to a nest -- there is no difficulty: I have a sackful of feathers in my wood-shed. No, my dear madam, you will be in nobody's way. You may sit there as long as you like,' said the bushy long-tailed gentleman. He led the way to a very retired, dismal-looking house amongst the fox-gloves. It was built of faggots and turf, and there were two broken pails, one on top of another, by way of a chimney. 'This is my summer residence; you would not find my earth -- my winter house -- so convenient,' said the hospitable gentleman. There was a tumble-down shed at the back of the house, made of old soap-boxes. The gentleman opened the door, and showed Jemima in. The shed was almost quite full of feathers -- it was almost suffocating; but it was comfortable and very soft. Jemima Puddle-duck was rather surprised to find such a vast quantity of feathers. But it was very comfortable; and she made a nest without any trouble at all. When she came out, the sandy whiskered gentleman was sitting on a log reading the newspaper -- at least he had it spread out, but he was looking over the top of it. He was so polite, that he seemed almost sorry to let Jemima go home for the night. He promised to take great care of her nest until she came back again next day. He said he loved eggs and ducklings; he should be proud to see a fine nestful in his wood-shed. Jemima Puddle-duck came every afternoon; she laid nine eggs in the nest. They were greeny white and very large. The foxy gentleman admired them immensely. He used to turn them over and count them when Jemima was not there. At last Jemima told him that she intended to begin to sit next day -- 'and I will bring a bag of corn with me, so that I need never leave my nest until the eggs are hatched. They might catch cold,' said the conscientious Jemima. 'Madam, I beg you not to trouble yourself with a bag; I will provide oats. But before you commence your tedious sitting, I intend to give you a treat. Let us have a dinner-party all to ourselves! 'May I ask you to bring up some herbs from the farm-garden to make a savoury omelette? Sage and thyme, and mint and two onions, and some parsley. I will provide lard for the stuff-lard for the omelette,' said the hospitable gentleman with sandy whiskers. Jemima Puddle-duck was a simpleton: not even the mention of sage and onions made her suspicious. She went round the farm-garden, nibbling off snippets of all the different sorts of herbs that are used for stuffing roast duck. And she waddled into the kitchen, and got two onions out of a basket. The collie-dog Kep met her coming out, 'What are you doing with those onions? Where do you go every afternoon by yourself, Jemima Puddle-duck?' Jemima was rather in awe of the collie; she told him the whole story. The collie listened, with his wise head on one side; he grinned when she described the polite gentleman with sandy whiskers. He asked several questions about the wood, and about the exact position of the house and shed. Then he went out, and trotted down the village. He went to look for two fox-hound puppies who were out at walk with the butcher. Jemima Puddle-duck went up the cart-road for the last time, on a sunny afternoon. She was rather burdened with bunches of herbs and two onions in a bag. She flew over the wood, and alighted opposite the house of the bushy long-tailed gentleman. He was sitting on a log; he sniffed the air, and kept glancing uneasily round the wood. When Jemima alighted he quite jumped. 'Come into the house as soon as you have looked at your eggs. Give me the herbs for the omelette. Be sharp!' He was rather abrupt. Jemima Puddle-duck had never heard him speak like that. She felt surprised, and uncomfortable. While she was inside she heard pattering feet round the back of the shed. Some one with a black nose sniffed at the bottom of the door, and then locked it. Jemima became much alarmed. A moment afterwards there were most awful noises -- barking, baying, growls and howls, squealing and groans. And nothing more was ever seen of that foxy-whiskered gentleman. Presently Kep opened the door of the shed, and let out Jemima Puddle-duck. Unfortunately the puppies rushed in and gobbled up all the eggs before he could stop them. He had a bite on his ear and both the puppies were limping. Jemima Puddle-duck was escorted home in tears on account of those eggs. She laid some more in June, and she was permitted to keep them herself: but only four of them hatched. Jemima Puddle-duck said that it was because of her nerves; but she had always been a bad sitter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
333,The True History of Little Golden-Hood,Charles Marelles,Lang's source: Charles Marelles.,"Andrew Lang, The Red Fairy Book, 5th edition (London and New York: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1895), pp. 215-19.","You know the tale of poor Little Red Riding-Hood, that the wolf deceived and devoured, with her cake, her little butter can, and her grandmother. Well, the true story happened quite differently, as we know now. And first of all the little girl was called and is still called Little Golden-Hood; secondly, it was not she, nor the good grand-dame, but the wicked wolf who was, in the end, caught and devoured. Only listen. The story begins something like the tale. There was once a little peasant girl, pretty and nice as a star in its season. Her real name was Blanchette, but she was more often called Little Golden-Hood, on account of a wonderful little cloak with a hood, gold- and fire-colored, which she always had on. This little hood was given her by her grandmother, who was so old that she did not know her age; it ought to bring her good luck, for it was made of a ray of sunshine, she said. And as the good old woman was considered something of a witch, everyone thought the little hood rather bewitched too. And so it was, as you will see. One day the mother said to the child, 'Let us see, my Little Golden-Hood, if you know now how to find your way by yourself. You shall take this good piece of cake to your grandmother for a Sunday treat tomorrow. You will ask her how she is, and come back at once, without stopping to chatter on the way with people you don't know. Do you quite understand?' 'I quite understand,' replied Blanchette gaily. And off she went with the cake, quite proud of her errand. But the grandmother lived in another village, and there was a big wood to cross before getting there. At a turn of the road under the trees, suddenly, 'Who goes there?' 'Friend wolf.' He had seen the child start alone, and the villain was waiting to devour her; when at the same moment he perceived some woodcutters who might observe him, and he changed his mind. Instead of falling upon Blanchette he came frisking up to her like a good dog. ''Tis you! my nice Little Golden-Hood,' said he. So the little girl stops to talk with the wolf, who, for all that, she did not know in the least. 'You know me, then!' said she. 'What is your name?' 'My name is friend wolf. And where are you going thus, my pretty one, with your little basket on your arm?' 'I am going to my grandmother, to take her a good piece of cake for her Sunday treat tomorrow.' 'And where does she live, your grandmother?' 'She lives at the other side of the wood, in the first house in the village, near the windmill, you know.' 'Ah! yes! I know now,' said the wolf. 'Well, that's just where I'm going; I shall get there before you, no doubt, with your little bits of legs, and I'll tell her you're coming to see her; then she'll wait for you.' Thereupon the wolf cuts across the wood, and in five minutes arrives at the grandmother's house. He knocks at the door: toc, toc. No answer. He knocks louder. Nobody. Then he stands up on end, puts his two forepaws on the latch and the door opens. Not a soul in the house. The old woman had risen early to sell herbs in the town, and she had gone off in such haste that she had left her bed unmade, with her great nightcap on the pillow. 'Good!' said the wolf to himself, 'I know what I'll do.' He shuts the door, pulls on the grandmother's nightcap down to his eyes, then he lies down all his length in the bed and draws the curtains. In the meantime the good Blanchette went quietly on her way, as little girls do, amusing herself here and there by picking Easter daisies, watching the little birds making their nests, and running after the butterflies which fluttered in the sunshine. At last she arrives at the door. Knock, knock. 'Who is there?' says the wolf, softening his rough voice as best he can. 'It's me, Granny, your Little Golden-Hood. I'm bringing you a big piece of cake for your Sunday treat tomorrow.' 'Press your finger on the latch, then push and the door opens.' 'Why, you've got a cold, Granny,' said she, coming in. 'Ahem! a little, a little . . .' replies the wolf, pretending to cough. 'Shut the door well, my little lamb. Put your basket on the table, and then take off your frock and come and lie down by me. You shall rest a little.' The good child undresses, but observe this! She kept her little hood upon her head. When she saw what a figure her Granny cut in bed, the poor little thing was much surprised. 'Oh!' cries she, 'how like you are to friend wolf, Grandmother!' 'That's on account of my nightcap, child,' replies the wolf. 'Oh! what hairy arms you've got, Grandmother!' 'All the better to hug you, my child.' 'Oh! what a big tongue you've got, Grandmother!' 'All the better for answering, child.' 'Oh ! what a mouthful of great white teeth you have, Grandmother!' 'That's for crunching little children with!' And the wolf opened his jaws wide to swallow Blanchette. But she put down her head crying, 'Mamma! Mamma!' and the wolf only caught her little hood. Thereupon, oh dear! oh dear! he draws back, crying and shaking his jaw as if he had swallowed red-hot coals. It was the little fire-colored hood that had burnt his tongue right down his throat. The little hood, you see, was one of those magic caps that they used to have in former times, in the stories, for making oneself invisible or invulnerable. So there was the wolf with his throat burnt, jumping off the bed and trying to find the door, howling and howling as if all the dogs in the country were at his heels. Just at this moment the grandmother arrives, returning from the town with her long sack empty on her shoulder. 'Ah, brigand!' she cries, 'wait a bit!' Quickly she opens her sack wide across the door, and the maddened wolf springs in head downwards. It is he now that is caught, swallowed like a letter in the post. For the brave old dame shuts her sack, so; and she runs and empties it in the well, where the vagabond, still howling, tumbles in and is drowned. 'Ah, scoundrel! you thought you would crunch my little grandchild! Well, tomorrow we will make her a muff of your skin, and you yourself shall be crunched, for we will give your carcass to the dogs.' Thereupon the grandmother hastened to dress poor Blanchette, who was still trembling with fear in the bed. 'Well,' she said to her, 'without my little hood where would you be now, darling?' And, to restore heart and legs to the child, she made her eat a good piece of her cake, and drink a good draught of wine, after which she took her by the hand and led her back to the house. And then, who was it who scolded her when she knew all that had happened? It was the mother. But Blanchette promised over and over again that she would never more stop to listen to a wolf, so that at last the mother forgave her. And Blanchette, the Little Golden-Hood, kept her word. And in fine weather she may still be seen in the fields with her pretty little hood, the color of the sun. But to see her you must rise early. 1895), pp.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
990,A Ghoul-Like Deed,England,NA,"John Walker Ord, The History and Antiquities of Cleveland, Comprising the Wapentake of East and West Langbargh, North Riding, County York (London: Simpkin and Marshall, 1846), p. 470.","An old gentleman in the village [Hutton Rudby] related a curious story of the ghoul-like deeds of a certain parish clerk, who officiated also as sexton, some years ago. It would appear that a married woman of the village having been given up for dead, was at length removed to the usual place of interment. Whether from some implied wish on her part, or difficulty in releasing it, the wedding ring was allowed to remain on the finger. This circumstance awakened the cupidity of the parish clerk, who, at the lone hour of midnight, crept cautiously to the new-made grave. Having removed the earth, and unscrewed the coffin, he proceeded to take off the ring, but from the contracted state of the fingers was unable to effect his purpose. Accordingly with his pocketknife he set about amputating the finger; but he had scarcely reached the bone, when, O horror! the corpse bolted nearly upright in its coffin, at the same time uttering a loud and dismal scream. The parish clerk, who, by the by, was a tailor, immediately darted homeward with the utmost speed, his hair bristling on end. Meantime the poor woman, who had been unconsciously buried in a trance, alarmed at her strange and peculiar situation, directed her steps to her husband's residence, and knocked loudly at the door. What was her husband's amazement and consternation to behold his buried wife, in her shroud and grave-clothes, standing at the door, calling for admittance! His first alarm having somewhat abated, he proceeded to make further inquiry, and was at length convinced that his true wife, in flesh and blood, had in reality returned from the tomb. Afterwards, the injured finger and the state of the grave, pointed suspicion to the parish clerk; but the husband, instead of punishing him for allowing his wife to return from her last resting place, actually presented him annually with a web of the finest linen (he being a linen manufacturer).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
990,A Sign from God,Germany,NA,"Johann Gustav Büsching, Volks-Sagen, Märchen und Legenden, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Carl Heinrich Reclam, 1812), no. 82, pp. 389-91.","In Magdeburg they formerly showed (I do not know if they still do) a house with a plaque depicting a horse that was looking out the window of a house's upper story. The following legend explains this plaque: A man buried his wife with the pomp expected of his class, leaving on her finger a valuable diamond ring. The greedy gravedigger noticed this, and therefore returned that night to open the grave, pry up the coffin lid, and attempt to remove the ring from the dead woman. However, the ring was tight, and he had to push and twist and turn, which revived the woman, who was only in a trance. She sat up, giving the disloyal gravedigger such a fright that he fell down unconscious. The woman, herself frightened by her helpless condition, picked up the gravedigger's lantern and staggered toward her husband's house. She knocked. The servant asked, 'Who is there?' 'It's me,' she answered, 'the lady of the house. Open the door for me.' Deathly pale, he ran to his master's room and told him the news. 'My wife will never return from her grave,' he answered, 'any more than would my horses walk up the steps in order to look out the window.' Then he heard clip clop up the steps. It was his horses. Then the man believed, went downstairs, opened the door, and received his wife, who he thought was dead. And he lived happily with her for many long years. 389-91.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
990,A Terrible Experience,Scotland,NA,"Buckham Hugh Hossack, Kirkwall in the Orkneys (Kirkwall: William Peace and Son, 1900), p. 444.","Margaret Halcro married, 1674, in her 27th year, the Rev. Henry Erskine, and died, 14th January 1725, in the house of her son, Rev. Ebenezer Erskine. She was buried at Scotland Wells, where her tombstone is still to be seen. Poor Mrs. Erskine had one terrible experience. The minister, a widower when he married Marion Halcro, was deeply attached to his young wife, and bitter was his anguish when, a few months after the marriage, she was cut off by a short illness. Mr. Erskine resolved that her trinkets and jewellery should be buried with her, and a valuable ring was left upon her finger. When John Carr, village carpenter, and sexton of Chirnside Parish Church, came to screw down the coffin lid, the minister, gazing on the features of his beloved wife, thought he saw the lips quiver. Every available test was vainly tried in the fond hope that life had not departed. But Carr had seen the jewellery, examined the bracelets, and had even tried whether the ring would slip off without difficulty, for he thought it a pity that such beautiful articles should be lost. To save himself subsequent labour and time, the nails were loosely screwed, and in late afternoon at the graveyard, consulting the feelings of the bereaved husband, the earth was lightly thrown in, the considerate sexton remarking that he could finish the work better in daylight. At night Carr returned to the burial ground, quickly removed the earth, and opened the coffin. The ring was first sought, but it refused to leave its place. Taking his knife, the operator placed the finger on the edge of the coffin and proceeded to amputation. With the opening of a vein vitality was restored, and Mrs. Erskine uttered a piercing shriek. Carr yelled and fled, leaving the lady to get out of the grave as best she might. Weak and cold as a corpse, she found her way home, but even at the manse her troubles were not over. The door was locked, though the inmates had not retired. The minister was strangely affected by the knock, which was exactly that of his late wife, and the old servant who opened the door fainted on seeing the apparition. But Margaret Halcro, even in such an emergency, was practical. The terrified husband could not believe the voice which declared that this was no ghost, but his own living and loving wife. While he stood helpless, Mrs. Erskine, shivering in her grave clothes, slipped past and hurried to the study, where there was a fire. Stimulants were administered, and the bed, warmed with hot bricks, soon restored her to comfort, and she was able to relate in detail her terrible experiences, through all of which she had been perfectly conscious. She told of her great effort to speak when her husband was looking at her in her coffin; of Carr's examination of the jewellery; and of her calculating on the sexton's return to the grave. Mrs. Erskine survived her husband twenty years.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
990,Buried in a Trance,Scotland,NA,"Andrew Jervise, The History and Traditions of the Land of the Lindsays in Angus and Mearns, 2nd edition (Edinburgh: David Douglas, 1882), pp. 15-16.","Bent on obtaining the treasure at all hazards, he stole under night to her lonely sanctuary, and soon succeeded in putting himself in possession of the whole, except the massive rings which girded her swollen fingers. These he eyed with great admiration, and having failed to gain them by ordinary means, he resolved to amputate the fingers. A slight movement of the body, and the faint exclamation of 'Alas!' staggered his valour -- the knife dropped from his guilty hand -- he trembled from head to foot, and fell senseless on the cold damp floor, amidst crazy trestles and musty bones! Meanwhile, the lady, disentangling herself from her shroud, snatched the glimmering taper in one hand, and, raising her unexpected deliverer with the other, led him forth from the vault. Restored to consciousness, he craved mercy on bended knees; and, although the lady assured him of a handsome reward from her husband if he would accompany her to the castle, he begged for leave to flee from his native land; while she, with a heart grateful for the restoration of life, kindly permitted him to retain his sacrilegious spoil, and the greedy sexton was never heard of more!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
990,Lady Mount Edgcumbe Buried Alive,England,NA,"Augustus J. C. Hare, The Story of My Life, vol. 3 (New York: Dodd, Mead, and Company; London: George Allen, 1901), pp. 204-205.","It was known that she had been put into her coffin with a very valuable ring upon her finger, and the sexton went in after the funeral, when the coffin was put into the vault, to get it off. He opened the coffin, but the ring was hard to move, and he had to rub the dead finger up and down. This brought Lady Mount Edgcumbe to life, and she sat up. The sexton fled, leaving the doors of the vault and church open. Lady Mount Edgcumbe walked home in her shroud, and appeared in front of the windows. Those within thought it was a ghost. Then she walked in at the front door. When she saw her husband, she fainted away in his arms. This gave her family time to decide what should be done, and they settled to persuade her it had been a terrible delirium. When she recovered from her faint, she was in her own bed, and she ever believed it had been a dream.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
990,Lady Restored to Life,England,NA,"Beaver H. Blacker, ed., Gloucestershire Notes and Queries, vol. 1 (London: W. Kent and Company, 1881), pp. 2-3.","I have met with the following statement: On what authority, let me ask, has this statement been made? And, if true, when did the occurrence take place? Change the scene to the town of Drogheda, in Ireland, the lady's name to Harman, and the locket to a ring, and you have a tolerably accurate account of what occurred in the last century, and with the tradition of which I have been familiar from my childhood.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,Bloody Baker,England,NA,"Milledulcia: A Thousand Pleasant Things Selected from Notes and Queries (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1857), pp. 27-29.","I one day was looking over the different monuments in Cranbrook Church in Kent, when in the chancel my attention was arrested by one erected to the memory of Sir Richard Baker. The gauntlet, gloves, helmet, and spurs were (as is often the case in monumental erections of Elizabethan date) suspended over the tomb. What chiefly attracted my attention was the color of the gloves, which was red. The old woman who acted as my cicerone, seeing me look at them, said, 'Aye, miss, those are Bloody Baker's gloves; their red color comes from the blood he shed.' This speech awakened my curiosity to hear more, and with very little pressing I induced my old guide to tell me the following strange tale: The baker family had formerly large possessions in Cranbrook, but in the reign of Edward VI great misfortunes fell on them; by extravagance and dissipation they gradually lost all their lands, until an old house in the village (now used as the poor- house) was all that remained to them. The sole representative of the family remaining at the accession of Queen Mary was Sir Richard Baker. He had spent some years abroad in consequence of a duel; but when, said my informant, Bloody Queen Mary reigned, he thought he might safely return, as he was a Papist. When he came to Cranbrook he took up his abode in his old house. He only brought one foreign servant with him, and these two lived alone. Very soon strange stories began to be whispered respecting unearthly shrieks having been heard frequently to issue at nightfall from his house. Many people of importance were stopped and robbed in the Glastonbury woods, and many unfortunate travelers were missed and never heard of more. Richard Baker still continued to live in seclusion, but he gradually repurchased his alienated property, although he was known to have spent all he possessed before he left England. But wickedness was not always to prosper. He formed an apparent attachment to a young lady in the neighborhood, remarkable for always wearing a great many jewels. He often pressed her to come and see his old house, telling her he had many curious things he wished to show her. She had always resisted fixing a day for her visit, but happening to walk within a short distance of his house, she determined to surprise him with a visit. Her companion, a lady older than herself, endeavored to dissuade her from doing so, but she would not be turned from her purpose. They knocked at the door, but no one answered them; they, however, discovered it was not locked, and determined to enter. At the head of the stairs hung a parrot, which, on their passing, cried out: Peepoh, pretty lady, be not too bold, Or your red blood will soon run cold. And cold did run the blood of the adventurous damsel when, on opening one of the room doors, she found it filled with the dead bodies of murdered persons, chiefly women. Just then they heard a noise, and on looking out of the window saw Bloody Baker and his servant bringing in the murdered body of a lady. Nearly dead with fear, they concealed themselves in a recess under the staircase. As the murderers with their dead burden passed by them, the hand of the unfortunate murdered lady hung in the baluster of the stairs. With an oath Bloody Baker chopped it off, and it fell into the lap of one of the concealed ladies. As soon as the murderers had passed by, the ladies ran away, having the presence of mind to carry with them the dead hand, on one of the fingers of which was a ring. On reaching home they told their story, and in confirmation of it displayed the ring. All the families who had lost relatives mysteriously were then told of what had been found out, and they determined to ask Baker to a large party, apparently in a friendly manner, but to have constables concealed ready to take him into custody. He came, suspecting nothing, and then the lady told him all she had seen, pretending it was a dream. 'Fair lady,' said he, 'dreams are nothing; they are but fables.' 'They may be fables,' said she; 'but is this a fable?' and she produced the hand and ring. Upon this the constables rushed in and took him; and the tradition further says, he was burnt, notwithstanding Queen Mary tried to save him, on account of the religion he professed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,Bobby Rag,English,NA,"Francis Hindes Groome, Gypsy Folk-Tales (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1899), no. 51, pp. 198-200.","Yeahs an' yeahs an' double yeahs ago, deah wuz a nice young Gypsy gal playin' round an ole oak tree. An' up comed a squire as she wur a-playin', an' he fa1led in love wid her, an' asked her ef she'd go to his hall an' marry him. An' she says, 'No, sir, you wouldn't have a pooah Gypsy gal like me.' But he meaned so, an' stoled her away an' married her. Now when he bring'd her home, his mother warn't 'greeable to let hisself down so low as to marry a Gypsy gal. So she says, 'You'll hev to go an' 'stry her in de Hundert Mile Wood, an' strip her star'-mother-naked, an' bring back her clothes and her heart and pluck wid you.' And he took'd his hoss, and she jumped up behint him, and rid behint him into de wood. You 'll be shuah it wor a wood, an ole-fashioned wood we know it should be, wid bears an' eagles an' sneks an' wolfs into it. And when he took'd her in de wood he says, 'Now, I 'll ha' to kill you here, an' strip you star'-mother-naked and tek back your clothes an' your heart an' pluck wid me, and show dem to my mammy.' But she begged hard for herself, an' she says, 'Deah's an eagle into dat wood, an' he's gat de same heart an' pluck as a Christ'n; take dat home an' show it to your mammy, an' I 'll gin you my clothes as well.' So he stript her clothes affer her, an' he kilt de eagle, an' took'd his heart an' pluck home, an' showed it to his mammy, an' said as he'd kilt her. And she heared him rode aff, an' she wents an, an' she wents an, an' she wents an, an' she crep an' crep an her poor hens and knees, tell she fun' a way troo de long wood. You 'ah shuah she'd have hard work to fin' a way troo it; an' long an' by last she got to de hedge anear de road, so as she'd hear any one go by. Now, in de marnin' deah wuz a young genleman comed by an hoss-back, an' he couldn't get his hoss by for love nor money; an' she hed herself in under de hedge, for she wur afrightened 'twor de same man come back to kill her agin, an' besides you 'ah shuah she wor ashamed of bein' naked. An' he calls out, 'Ef you 'ah a ghost, go way; but ef you 'ah a livin' Christ'n, speak to me.' An' she med answer direc'ly, 'I'm as good a Christ'n as you are, but not in parable [apparel].' An' when he sin her, he pull't his deah beautiful topcoat affer him, an' put it an her. An' he says, 'Jump behint me.' An' she jumped behint him, an' he rid wi' her to his own gret hall. An' deah wuz no speakin' tell dey gat home. He knowed she wuz deah to be kilt, an' he galloped as hard as he could an his blood-hoss, tell he got to his own hall. An' when he bring'd her in, dey wur all struck stunt to see a woman naked, wid her beautiful black hair hangin down her back in long rinklets. Deh asked her what she wuz deah fur, an' she tell'd dem, an' she tell'd dem. An' you 'ah shuah dey soon put clothes an her; an' when she wuz dressed up, deah warn't a lady in de land more han'some nor her. An' his folks wor in delight av her. 'Now,' dey says, 'we'll have a supper for goers an' comers an' all gentry to come at.' You 'ah shuah it should be a 'spensible supper an' no savation of no money. And deah wuz to be tales tell'd an' songs sing'd. An' every wan dat didn't sing't a song had to tell't a tale. An' every door wuz bolted for fear any wan would mek a skip out. An' it kem to pass to dis' Gypsy gal to sing a song; an' de gentleman dat fun' her says, 'Now, my pretty Gypsy gal, tell a tale.' An' de gentleman dat wuz her husband knowed her, an' didn't want her to tell a tale. And he says, 'Sing a song, my pretty Gypsy gal.' An' she says, 'I won't sing a song, but I'll tell a tale.' An' she says: Bobby rag! Bobby rag! Roun' de oak tree -- 'Pooh! pooh!' says her husband, 'dat tale won't do.' (Now de ole mother an' de son, dey knowed what wuz comin' out.) 'Go on, my pretty Gypsy gal,' says de oder young genleman. 'A werry nice tale indeed.' So she goes on: Bobby rag! Bobby rag! Roun' de oak tree. A Gypsy I wuz born'd, A lady I wuz bred; Dey made me a coffin Afore I wuz dead. 'An' dat's de rogue deah.' An' she tell't all de tale into de party, how he wur agoin' to kill her an' tek her heart an' pluck home. An' all de gentry took't an' gibbeted him alive, both him an' his mother. An' dis young squire married her, an' med her a lady for life. Ah! ef we could know her name, an' what breed she wur, what a beautiful ting dat would be. But de tale doan' say.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,Captain Murderer,"England, Charles Dickens","This story, purportedly told to Dickens in his childhood by a nurse, was one of a number of tales and sketches incorporated into the collection The Uncommercial Traveller.","Charles Dickens, All the Year Round: A Weekly Journal, no. 72 (September 8, 1860), pp. 518-19.","The first diabolical character that intruded himself on my peaceful youth (as I called to mind that day at Dullborough), was a certain Captain Murderer. This wretch must have been an offshoot of the Blue Beard family, but I had no suspicion of the consanguinity in those times. His warning name would seem to have awakened no general prejudice against him, for he was admitted into the best society and possessed immense wealth. Captain Murderer's mission was matrimony, and the gratification of a cannibal appetite with tender brides. On his marriage morning, he always caused both sides of the way to church to be planted with curious flowers; and when his bride said, 'Dear Captain Murderer, I never saw flowers like these before: what are they called?' he answered, 'They are called garnish for house-lamb,' and laughed at his ferocious practical joke in a horrid manner, disquieting the minds of the noble bridal company, with a very sharp show of teeth, then displayed for the first time. He made love in a coach and six, and married in a coach and twelve, and all his horses were milk-white horses with one red spot on the back which he caused to be hidden by the harness. For, the spot would come there, though every horse was milk white when Captain Murderer bought him. And the spot was young bride's blood. (To this terrific point I am indebted for my first personal experience of a shudder and cold beads on the forehead.) When Captain Murderer had made an end of feasting and revelry, and had dismissed the noble guests, and was alone with his wife on the day month after their marriage, it was his whimsical custom to produce a golden rolling-pin and a silver pieboard. Now, there was this special feature in the Captain's courtships, that he always asked if the young lady could make pie-crust; and if she couldn't by nature or education, she was taught. Well. When the bride saw Captain Murderer produce the golden rolling-pin and silver pieboard, she remembered this, and turned up her laced-silk sleeves to make a pie. The Captain brought out a silver pie-dish of immense capacity, and the Captain brought out flour and butter and eggs and all things needful, except the inside of the pie; of materials for the staple of the pie itself, the Captain brought out none. Then said the lovely bride, 'Dear Captain Murderer, what pie is this to be?' He replied, 'A meat pie.' Then said the lovely bride, 'Dear Captain Murderer, I see no meat.' The Captain humorously retorted, 'Look in the glass.' She looked in the glass, but still she saw no meat, and then the Captain roared with laughter, and, suddenly frowning and drawing his sword, bade her roll out the crust. So she rolled out the crust, dropping large tears upon, it all the time because he was so cross, and when she had lined the dish with crust and had cut the crust all ready to fit the top, the Captain called out, 'I see the meat in the glass!' And the bride looked up at the glass, just in time to see the Captain cutting her head off; and he chopped her in pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the bones. Captain Murderer went on in this way, prospering exceedingly, until he came to choose a bride from two twin sisters, and at first didn't know which to choose. For, though one was fair and the other dark, they were both equally beautiful. But the fair twin loved him, and the dark twin hated him, so he chose the fair one. The dark twin would have prevented the marriage if she could, but she couldn't; however, on the night before it, much suspecting Captain Murderer, she stole out and climbed his garden wall, and looked in at his window through a chink in the shutter, and saw him having his teeth filed sharp. Next day she listened all day, and heard him make his joke about the house-lamb. And that day month, he had the paste rolled out, and cut the fair twin's head off, and chopped her in pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the bones. Now, the dark twin had had her suspicions much increased by the filing of the Captain's teeth, and again by the house-lamb joke. Putting all things together when he gave out that her sister was dead, she divined the truth, and determined to be revenged. So she went up to Captain Murderer's house, and knocked at the knocker and pulled at the bell, and when the Captain came to the door, said: 'Dear Captain Murderer, marry me next, for I always loved you and was jealous of my sister.' The Captain took it as a compliment, and made a polite answer, and the marriage was quickly arranged. On the night before it, the bride again climbed to his window, and again saw him having his teeth filed sharp. At this sight, she laughed such a terrible laugh, at the chink in the shutter, that the Captain's blood curdled, and he said: 'I hope nothing has disagreed with me!' At that, she laughed again, a still more terrible laugh, and the shutter was opened and search made, but she was nimbly gone and there was no one. Next day they went to church in the coach and twelve, and were married. And that day month, she rolled the pie-crust out, and Captain Murderer cut her head off, and chopped her in pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the bones. But before she began to roll out the paste she had taken a deadly poison of a most awful character, distilled from toads' eyes and spiders' knees; and Captain Murderer had hardly picked her last bone, when he began to swell, and to turn blue, and to be all over spots, and to scream. And he went on swelling and turning bluer and being more all over spots and screaming, until he reached from floor to ceiling and from wall to wall; and then, at one o'clock in the morning, he blew up with a loud explosion. At the sound of it, all the milk-white horses in the stables broke their halters and went mad, and then they galloped over everybody in Captain Murderer's house (beginning with the family blacksmith who had filed his teeth) until the whole were dead, and then they galloped away. Hundreds of times did I hear this legend of Captain Murderer, in my early youth, and added hundreds of times was there a mental compulsion upon me in bed, to peep in at his window as the dark twin peeped, and to revisit his horrible house, and look at him in his blue and spotty and screaming stage, as he reached from floor to ceiling and from wall to wall. The young woman who brought me acquainted with Captain Murderer, had a fiendish enjoyment of my terrors, and used to begin, I remember --as a sort of introductory overture -- by clawing the air with both hands, and uttering a long low hollow groan. So acutely did I suffer from this ceremony in combination with this infernal Captain, that I sometimes used to plead I thought I was hardly strong enough and old enough to hear the story again just yet But she never spared me one word of it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,Greenbeard,Lithuania,NA,"August Schleicher, 'Vom Grünbart,' Litauische Märchen, Sprichworte, Rätsel und Lieder (Weimar: Hermann Bölau, 1857), pp. 22-25.","In a city there lived a very wealthy merchant who had a very beautiful daughter, and she said that she would marry only a man who had a green beard. Great forests surrounded the city, and twenty-four robbers lived together in these woods. The captain of these robbers had heard about the girl who would marry only a man with a green beard, so he asked his people if they did not know of a substance that would color a beard green, and they immediately procured such a dye for him. Then he dyed his beard green (otherwise he was a handsome man) and rode into the city to the merchant to court his daughter. The girl liked him, so he spent the night there. The next day they made arrangements for the girl to pay him a visit. He said that he possessed a large mansion in the woods. He told the girl to ride along the main road until she came to a bridge. The other side of the bridge she should turn left onto a path, then continue riding until she came to his mansion. Then Greenbeard departed. The merchant's daughter now made preparations for the journey. She had a good cake baked for her bridegroom, then mounted her horse and rode on her way. Arriving at the bridge she found the side path that Greenbeard had told her about. She rode along this path into the woods. The deeper she went into the woods the narrower the path became, until it was only a narrow footpath. What should she do now? She could not ride any further, so she dismounted, tied up her horse, and continued on foot. At the end of the pathway she saw a small house with two lions chained near the door. Approaching them she thought, 'Should I go any further, or not?' The lions did nothing, so she went inside. In the first room there were beds and a number of flintlocks hanging on the wall. She went into another room where there was a table. A bird's cage with a little bird hung from a rafter. The bird said to her, 'How did you get here? This is a robbers' house. You cannot get away right now, for if you go outside the lions will rip you apart. I will tell you what to do. Lie down under the bed. When the robbers come home they will get drunk and then fall asleep. Then you can escape. When you go outside throw a piece of cake to each of the lions, then you can run away.' She did just that, and crawled under the bed. One after the other the robbers came home, saying, 'It smells here like human flesh.' The bird made excuses as best it could, and they stopped asking questions. The robbers had brought a girl with them. After eating their supper they chopped her into pieces, beginning with her little fingers. She had a ring on one of her fingers, and the finger with the ring rolled under the bed where the merchant's daughter was lying. She picked up the finger and put it into her pocket. When the robbers had finished their work they began to drink again, drinking so much that they knew nothing more of their sins, and they all fell asleep. When the girl thought that they were all fast asleep, she got up, gave the little bird a bit of sugar, then took a piece of cake in each hand. She threw the cake to the lions as she walked out. While they were devouring the cake she made her escape. However, they had scarcely finished the cake when they began to roar, bellowing so loudly that the forest shook. The robbers jumped up, and they immediately surmised that the girl had been there. They took after her, but she safely reached her horse. She rode home as fast as she could, arriving there as white as a corpse with fear. She was so sick that she had to lie down immediately. Greenbeard cut off his beard, then made plans to capture the girl. He ordered large wagons loaded with large barrels in which the robbers could hide. So outfitted he rode to the merchant. He offered him these wares, claiming to be a wholesale merchant from such and such a city. He had told his people that he would gain entrance into the merchant's house, and then would give them a sign when they should break their way out of the barrels, steal everything the merchant had, and take away the girl as well. However, one of the merchant's servants was walking about in the courtyard when he heard a voice from one of the barrels: 'What is happening? It is taking a long time.' He went inside and reported to his master: 'Sir, what is happening? There are people inside the barrels.' Then the merchant called up a number of strong men to capture the robbers. He forced the robber captain to stay seated inside with two strong men beside him. Then the girl came in and showed him the chopped off finger with the ring and asked him if he remembered it. Now he knew that he had been exposed, and he looked around for an escape route. But the merchant gave the men a sign, and they held him fast, then bound him hand and foot. In one of his boots he had hidden a long knife. After tying him securely, they went into the courtyard and capured the rest of them, one after the other. Then they took them all to prison. Thus all the robbers were captured and taken care of. The girl then led the people to the robbers' house. She kept the little bird for herself. Everything else was divided among the poor. They burned the house down. The merchant kept the lions. The robbers all died in prison. Thus everything was finished. And the girl no longer showed any desire for green beards.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,Laula,Wales,NA,"Francis Hindes Groome, Gypsy Folk-Tales (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1899), pp. 174-75.","Three young ladies live at a castle. A gentleman comes to visit them daily. They know not who he is or where he lives. He asks the youngest to accompany him home. She goes with him, eats, drinks, and returns. She asks his coachman his master's name, 'Laula.' She thinks it a pretty name; her elder sister a bad one. Next evening she goes again. They eat, drink, and play cards. He leaves the room, and returns with a phial of blood. 'Is your blood as red as this?' She pretends that he is jesting; but he cuts off her finger, opens the window, and throws it to the big dog, afterwards killing her. The tale goes on, 'Who got the finger? The elder sister got it.' It then explains how she had followed the pair by the track of the horse's feet, pacified the dog, and caught the finger (with ring on) thrown to him. She desires her father to issue invitations to a dinner. Everyone comes and has to tell a tale or sing a song. On Laula's plate is placed nothing but this finger. When the elder sister tells her tale, he grows uneasy, and says he must go outside. He twice interrupts thus, but is restrained by the other gentlemen. She gives him away, and at the old father's suggestion he is placed in a barrel filled with grease and burnt to death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,Sulasa and Sattuka,"India, The Jataka",NA,"The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, vol. 3 (Cambridge: at the University Press, 1897), no. 419, pp. 261-63.","Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there was a beautiful woman of the town, called Sulasa, who had a train of five hundred courtesans, and whose price was a thousand pieces a night. There was in the same city a robber named Sattuka, as strong as an elephant, who used to enter rich men's houses at night and plunder at will. The townsmen assembled and complained to the king. The king ordered the city-watch to post bands here and there, have the robber caught and cut off his head. They bound his hands behind his back and led him to the place of execution, scourging him in every square with whips. The news that he was taken excited the whole city. Sulasa was standing at a window, and looking down on the street she saw the robber, loved him at sight and thought, 'If I can free that stout fighting-man, I will give up this bad life of mine and live respectably with him.' In the way described in the Kanavera Birth she gained his freedom by sending a thousand pieces to the chief constable of the city and then lived with him in delight and harmony. The robber after three or four months thought, 'I shall never be able to stay in this one place: but one can't go empty-handed: Sulasa's ornaments are worth a hundred thousand pieces: I will kill her and take them.' So he said to her one day, 'Dear, when I was being hauled along by the king's men, I promised an offering to a tree-deity on a mountaintop, who is now threatening me because I have not paid it: let us make an offering.' 'Very well, husband, prepare and send it.' 'Dear, it will not do to send it: let us both go and present it, wearing all our ornaments and with a great retinue.' 'Very well, husband, we'll do so.' He made her prepare the offering and when they reached the mountain-foot, he said, 'Dear, the deity, seeing this crowd of people, will not accept the offering; let us two go up and present it.' She consented, and he made her carry the vessel. He was himself armed to the teeth, and when they reached the top, he set the offering at the foot of a tree which grew beside a precipice a hundred times as high as a man, and said, 'Dear, I have not come to present the offering, I have come with the intention of killing you and going away with all your ornaments: take them all off and make a bundle of them in your outer garment.' 'Husband, why would you kill me?' 'For your money.' 'Husband, remember the good I have done you: when you were being hauled along in chains, I gave up a rich man's son for you and paid a large sum and saved your life: though I might get a thousand pieces a day, I never look at another man: such a benefactress I am to you: do not kill me, I will give you much money and be your slave.' With these entreaties she spoke the first stanza: Here is a golden necklace, and emeralds and pearls, Take all and welcome: give me place among thy servant girls. When Sattuka had spoken the second stanza in accordance with his purpose, to wit: Fair lady, lay thy jewels down and do not weep so sore: I'll kill thee: else I can't be sure thou'lt give me all thy store: Sulasa's wits rose to the occasion, and thinking, 'This robber will not give me my life, but I'll take his life first by throwing him down the precipice in some way,' she spoke the two stanzas: Within my years of sense, within my conscious memory, No man on earth, I do protest, have I loved more than thee. Come hither, for my last salute, receive my last embrace: For never more upon the earth shall we meet face to face. Sattuka could not see her purpose, so he said, 'Very well, dear; come and embrace me.' Sulasa walked round him in respectful salutation three times, kissed him, and saying, 'Now, husband, I am going to make obeisance to you on all four sides,' she put her head on his foot, did obeisance at his sides, and went behind him as if to do obeisance there: then with the strength of an elephant she took him by the hinder parts and threw him head over heels down that place of destruction a hundred times as high as a man. He was crushed to pieces and died on the spot. Seeing this deed, the deity who lived on the mountain-top spoke these stanzas: Wisdom at times is not confined to men: A woman can shew wisdom now and then. Women are quick in counsel now and then. How quick and keen she was the way to know, She slew him like a deer with full-stretched bow. He that to great occasion fails to rise Falls, like that dull thief from the precipice. One prompt a crisis in his fate to see, Like her, is saved from threatening enemy. So Sulasa killed the robber. When she descended from the mountain and came among her attendants, they asked where her husband was. 'Don't ask me,' she said, and mounting her chariot she went on to the city.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,The Cannibal Innkeeper,Romania,NA,"Abstracted from M. Gaster, 'Why Does the Duck Feed on Refuse? The Story of the Cannibal Innkeeper,' Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 85, pp. 259-61.","Once there was a poor orphan girl who worked as a servant at the house of a rich man. Her dearest companion was a little dog that her parents had given her before they died. One day the chieftain of a robber band, disguised as an ordinary servant, came to the rich man's house and asked the girl to marry him. Sensing something sinister about him, the girl rejected the suitor's advances, so, with the assistance of his fellow robbers, he carried her away by force. Now a prisoner in the robber's house, the girl still refused to marry him, in spite of his friendly words, his threats, and his abuse. Finally he gave up his attempts to win her love, and sold her to a wild and cruel innkeeper. Now this innkeeper would rob travelers, kill them, cut them into pieces, and serve their cooked flesh to his other guests. He terrorized the poor girl by showing her the valuables he had stolen from his victims, the room where he murdered them, and the weapons he used for his wicked deeds. Then he locked her and her little dog in an adjoining room. Soon afterward he brought in a little boy whom he had captured in the woods gathering berries. He cut off the boy's head and cut him into pieces. Then he forced the girl to cook the boy's flesh and serve it to the innkeeper's guests. Some time later the innkeeper brought in a very old woman, ugly and wrinkled, and nothing but skin and bones. Perhaps wanting to fatten her up for later, he locked her in the room with the girl and her dog. After their captor had left, the old woman told the girl that the cannibal innkeeper was her own son, and that she, disguised so well that he could not recognize her, had come to punish him for his wickedness. Skilled in witchcraft, the old woman told the girl how she could escape. She would first have to kill her little dog and eat a piece of its heart. The girl did this, and then the old woman rubbed some ointment all over the girl's body, which transformed her into a duck. A little later the wild man opened the door, and the duck flew over his head, escaping into the open. The innkeeper ran from room to room looking for the girl, and his mother uttered a magic curse that caused the house to collapse upon him, killing him at once. The girl turned around and saw the heap of ruins, but as the old woman had not told her how she could again become a human being, she has remained a duck to this very day. The Story of the Cannibal Innkeeper,' Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 85, pp. 259-61.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,The Girl Who Got Up the Tree,England,"Addy's source: 'From North Derbyshire.' Addy's note concerning the girl's riddle: The following variation occurs: One moonlight night as I sat high Waiting for one but two came by, The boughs did bend, my heart did quake To see the hole the fox did make.","Sidney Oldall Addy, Household Tales with other Traditional Remains: Collected in the Counties of York, Lincoln, Derby, and Nottingham (London: David Nutt, 1895), no. 9, pp. 10-11.","Thinking that the girl had not yet come, the two men began to talk, and the girl heard her sweetheart say, 'She will not come tonight. We'll go home now, and come back and kill her tomorrow night.' As soon as they had gone the girl came down the tree and ran home to her father. When she had told him what she had seen, the father pondered awhile and then said to his daughter, 'We will have a feast and ask our friends, and we will ask thy sweetheart to come and the man that came with him to the tree.' So the two men came along with the other guests. In the evening they began to ask riddles of each other, but the girl who had got up the tree was the last to ask hers. She said:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,The History of Mr. Greenwood,Scotland,NA,"Peter Buchan, Ancient Scottish Tales: An Unpublished Collection Made by Peter Buchan, with an introduction byu John A. Fairley (Peterhead: Reprinted from the Transactions of the Buchan Field Club, 1908), pp. 21-24.","In the Western Isles of Scotland there lived a very rich man, of the name of Gregory, who had two beautiful daughters, to whom he was inordinately attached, but being vastly rich, he would not suffer either of them to go for an hour out of his presence without a strong detachment of the inmates of his house accompanying them wherever they went; and for the purpose of defending them from violent attacks that might be made upon them, or being carried off by the lawless banditti who at that time infested that part of the country. It happened, however, one day when they were at their usual walk and recreation, a little distance from their house, there came up to them a gentleman with his servant on horseback, who accosted them in a rather familiar way, asking them if those men they saw at a little distance were attendants of theirs? They were answered in the affirmative. He also put some other questions to them which they did not choose to answer. One of the ladies then wished to know how he was so impertinent; when he replied that, being much attached to the elder of the two, her beauty being so enchanting, he broke through the rules of good breeding. As flattery has too often the desired effect of gaining its purpose over silly minds, it wrought upon this lady like a charm, and made her the more attentive to his bewitching strain, Having so far gained her heart and confidence, he next got all the information that he wanted regarding her place of residence, and other particulars, with liberty to visit her as a suitor. These preliminaries having been settled, the ladies returned home, attended by the stranger gentleman, who gave his name as Mr. Greenwood, proprietor of an extensive tract of land on one of the neighbouring islands. His visits becoming so frequent, and himself so familiar, that at length he entreated the lady, his sweetheart, to pay a visit in return to his castle, as it was but a short way off, to which she consented. The necessary instructions were given her for finding the castle secretly, as she could not go openly for fear of her father, he not permitting her to go anywhere without her usual guard of attendants. She behoved, therefore, to steal away in his absence. The time for this purpose being agreed upon, as it was expected her father would leave home in a few days; but as some secret forebodings of evil preyed much upon her mind, she thought it advisable to go to the place he had appointed some days previous to the time they were to meet. The impropriety of venturing alone, and to a place she knew not, and to meet with one with whom she was so little acquainted, seemed very improper. Having deliberately weighed the matter in her own mind, she thought it better to go in disguise and reconnoitre his dwelling and circumstances. Accordingly, she got herself dressed in all the tattered and torn habiliments of an old beggar woman, and went as proposed, asking alms on her way thither. On her arriving at Greenwood's castle, she knocked loudly, but as no one appeared, she ventured in, as the door was unlocked, and destitute of a bolt for its security. Her first movement was to examine the contents of a pot which boiled on the fire, but on looking in, she saw such a sight as quite horrified her -- it was part of a human body! She next observed a bundle of rusty keys to lie on a table in the kitchen. When taking them up, she applied one of them to the door of a room which was adjoining the kitchen. In this room hung men's clothes of every description; out of each dress she cut a swatch, which having pocketed, she went to another room, when having opened it also, there she found women's dresses of great variety; some new, and some old. Out of each of them she cut again. Her next adventure was down a small trap-door, where, when she arrived at the bottom, she was up to the knees in blood, at which she greatly wondered ; but in the midst of her astonishment, from one of the dark corners of this dreadful vault, a voice said: O, dear lady Maisry, be not so bold, Lest your warm heart blood soon turn as cold. On hearing these words, she immediately fled from this ocean of blood, and ascended with a quick though palsied step, till she arrived at its summit. On beholding the light, she was put to her wits' end how she should make her escape from this place of skulls, which she never thought of till now. On ruminating on these things, her eyes were shocked with the cannibal owner of the place and his servant dragging triumphantly by the hair of the head, the dead body of a murdered female. As they came hurriedly into the room upon her, she had little time to seek a hiding place, or meditate her escape; so fled behind a door which stood half open between them, but so placed as she could hear and see what passed without being observed by the other party. Near this place lay a large bloodhound, to which she threw a piece of bread and thereby gained his favour. Greenwood then cut off one of the female's hands and threw it to the dog; but as Maisry had so lately given him a piece of bread, she was suffered to take it up and carry it away. Having continued in this precarious situation for a wearyful length of time, Greenwood remarked to his man, that he smelled fresh blood. The servant, with some difficulty, got him persuaded that the smell arose from the hand which he had so recently cut off from the dead body and thrown to the dog. He was also with some reluctance appeased in his rage towards one of his domestics that had offended him. However, he determined that on going to bed, all the doors should be well secured inside, so that none could make their escape ere morning, if any were in the house that did not belong to it; and for their better security, should have their beds made at one of the back doors of the castle. On their going to bed, as fate would have it, sleep took such strong hold of their senses that they were soon in the arms of the drowsy god and snored aloud. It was now time for the lady to think of saving herself by flight, which she accomplished in the following surprising manner. She opened the door, and at once made such a spring over both of their bodies, as cleared them and the place of her confinement. She then fled with the rapidity of lightning. The jump which she took awoke Greenwood, who said, surely someone had escaped; but the servant insisted that it was only the flutter of a bird that had passed the door. Unconcernedly they then went to sleep again. The lady having reached her father's house, caused a great party of her friends and acquaintances to be invited to a feast which was to be prepared for their entertainment, about the time that Greenwood had promised to give her a call. All things being ready, and the guests at supper set, Greenwood among the rest, when all were merry, and all seemed to enjoy the entertainment. Supper at length being ended, it was proposed that a few songs for the amusement of the company, should be sung by those who could, and those who could not sing should tell some story or tale. This being agreed upon by all, songs were sung and tales were told by all till it came to Maisry's turn, who said, as she could do neither she would tell a dream she dreamed last night; and looking over to Greenwood, remarked that it was concerning him. All seemed anxious to hear it, but none more so than Greenwood, when she began thus: I thought that I disguised myself as a common pauper, and went to your castle to ask alms, but after loudly knocking, and finding no one to make answer, I ventured in, and seeing a pot boiling on the fire, a thought struck me to look into it, I saw what I could scarcely believe, a part of a human body. This having raised my curiosity, I went a step farther and on finding a bunch of keys lying on a table near where I stood; I opened an apartment near the kitchen, and found a variety of men's clothes; next I went into another, where I found women's and cut a piece out of each of them, which I brought along. I also ventured down a small trap stair, when I found myself up to the knees among blood, and a voice saying: Greenwood could contain himself no longer, but interrupting her said, 'Women's dreams are fabulous, and so are women's thoughts. Jack, saddle your horse, and we will go ride.' But she would not consent to this, but continued to tell the rest of her dream, much against his wish or inclination; but there was no avoiding hearing her out, so she went on, 'On arriving at the top of the trap stair which I went down to the vault of blood, I observed you and your man dragging by the hair of her head, the body of a dead lady. You cut off one of her hands and threw it to a greedy bloodhound which lay near where I stood. The hand I took up, and see here it is,' producing the bloody hand before them all; when, to his mortification and confusion, he and his servant were secured. He to be burned in the midst of his castle, which was in a remote and secret place of a large wood; the servant to be drowned; which were immediately put into execution, to the no small satisfaction and amazement of all who heard his murderous history.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,The Oxford Student,England,NA,"James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to the Nursery Rhymes of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1849), pp. 49-50.","Many years ago there lived at the University of Oxford a young student, who, having seduced the daughter of a tradesman, sought to conceal his crime by committing the more heinous one of murder. With this view, he made an appointment to meet her one evening in a secluded field. She was at the rendezvous considerably before the time agreed upon for their meeting, and hid herself in a tree. The student arrived on the spot shortly afterwards, but what was the astonishment of the girl to observe that he commenced digging a grave. Her fears and suspicions were aroused, and she did not leave her place of concealment till the student, despairing of her arrival, returned to his college. The next day, when she was at the door of her father's house, he passed and saluted her as usual. She returned his greeting by repeating the following lines: Astounded by her unexpected knowledge of his base design, in a moment of fury he stabbed her to the heart. This murder occasioned a violent conflict between the tradespeople and the students, the latter taking part with the murderer, and so fierce was the skirmish, that Brewer's Lane, it is said, ran down with blood. The place of appointment was adjoining the Divinity Walk, which was in time past far more secluded than at the present day, and she is said to have been buried in the grave made for her by her paramour. According to another version of the tale, the name of the student was Fox, and a fellow student went with him to assist in digging the grave. The verses in this account differ somewhat from the above:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,The Robber's Bride,Germany,"The Colshorns heard this tale from 'an oral source in Altenhagen,' a village near Bielefeld in northern Germany.","Carl and Theodor Colshorn, 'Die Räuberbraut,' Märchen und Sagen (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Rümpler, 1854), no. 38, pp. 125-28.","Once upon a time there were a man and a woman to whom the dear Lord had given a wonderfully beautiful daughter. The parents and the child prayed, and worked, and lived good and wholesome lives. One day when the daughter had just reached her fifteenth year a splendid carriage drove up to their little hut. A distinguished gentleman emerged from it and said to the parents, 'Do you not have a daughter whom I could marry?' 'No,' was the answer. 'To be sure, we do have a daughter, but she should not get married yet.' However, the gentleman would not accept this response. He had his horses unhitched, and he stayed there for three days. During these three days he was so pious and polite, and furthermore he had so much money and other valuables, that he won the mother's approval already on the first day, on the second day that of the daughter, and finally on the third day that of the father as well. The father had repeatedly said to his wife, 'I do not have a good feeling about this!' but she made him feel good about it, knowing how to coax him with sweet words into giving his approval. As evening of the third day approached they took leave of their daughter, and asked the distinguished gentleman to take good care of her. He promised to do so, as he hurried away with his beautiful bride. Now this distinguished gentleman was in truth a wild robber and cannibal. On their way he told the poor child nothing but horror stories, and when he pulled her from his carriage, he said to her, laughing, 'Would you prefer to be boiled in oil or cooked in water? You are a delicious morsel, and because I am so fond of you, I will give you your choice.' The terrified bride could not answer, and the cannibal pushed her into a cave, saying further, 'Ask the dear Lord to give you a good idea, and during the night prepare yourself to die!' Then he went into an adjoining cave. When the girl came to her senses, she heard a terrible commotion in the next cave. The robber was beating his housekeeper, who in turn was scolding and scratching him. Now she was an old witch. She became very angry when he brought home a young girl, and for this she received a good beating. That is how the two of them behaved. That night the cannibal slept by himself in his cave, and the old witch stayed with the young bride. The latter, however, did not close her eyes, but instead prayed and wept continuously. The old witch was upset that she was not able to sleep. She was also somewhat touched and still angry with the cannibal. At last she croaked, 'Stop your whimpering! Just what did that beast tell you?' The girl answered, 'He asked me if I would prefer to be boiled in oil or cooked in water.' The witch laughed and replied, 'And you have no desire for either one, you poor little fool!' This sounded so heartless that it blocked the poor girl's throat. 'Don't be so sensitive!' the old hag continued, when she received no answer. 'Do you want me to tickle you?' And she scratched the girl until she cried out loudly. 'You have a very good voice!' scoffed the witch, then continued, 'What I am about to tell you is thanks to that ruthless tyrant's blows. Tomorrow morning when he asks you, answer that you would prefer to be cooked in water. Then you yourself will have to carry the water, for he is too proud to do so himself. I will pretend to be sick. When you reach the well, take off your clothes and put them on the well-pole as though you were dressing a real person, then hide yourself in the hollow tree, the seventh tree on the right-hand side of the path. Now give me some peace, or I myself will divulge the plan.' Very early the next morning the cannibal came into the cave, and when the girl answered his question by saying that she would prefer to be cooked in water, he kicked the witch with his foot and shouted, 'Go get some water while I slaughter my little dove.' 'Fetch your own water!' croaked the witch. 'You have lamed both of my arms.' The cannibal cursed and ordered his bride, 'Take this bucket and get some water so that I can cook you!' She took the bucket, put her clothes onto the well-pole, and crept into the hollow tree. When she did not return, the robber shouted, 'Are you waiting for your sweetheart there at the well? Is that why you are standing there without moving? If you don't come back immediately, I will see to it that he comes to you!' The pole did not pay the least attention to his scoffing, nor did it even turn around when the cannibal began to curse and threaten. When finally a shot from the cave hit the pole, it neither cried nor fell over. 'Is that girl bulletproof?' shouted the cannibal, took a broadsword and ran to the well. How he seethed when he came closer and found the strange large doll! Boiling with rage, he ran with a few leaps back into his cave, tied his sword around his waist, mounted his faithful steed, shouted to the witch, 'Fill the pot with oil and bring it to a boil!' and hurried away, accompanied by a large bloodhound. Soon he came to the hollow tree, where the dog stopped and barked and scratched. The robber drew his worthy sword and thrust it through the bark, cutting the maiden's right big toe. Bright blood flowed from it onto the sword, but when he pulled it out again, the blood had disappeared. So he rode on. When the girl could no longer hear the galloping horse and the barking dog she climbed out of the tree and crept into a deep ditch, then covered herself with twigs. A half hour later the angry robber returned. The dog stopped next to the ditch, and the robber thrust his sword into the twigs, cutting the same toe on its other side. Again blood flowed from it, but when he pulled back the sword, it was as clean as before. The poor bride put her ear against the side of the ditch, and when she could no longer hear the earth trembling, she wearily climbed out and limped to the well in order to dress herself a little. She had just washed herself when the robber returned. Seeing her, he shouted loudly for joy. He had just pulled out his worthy sword in order to cut off her head, when a bullet came out of the woods and struck him down. The prince had just been hunting in the vicinity, and he was the one who shot the cannibal. When he came nearer and saw the beautiful maiden, his heart burned with love for her. The robber was cursing and writhing in his own blood, and the prince had him thrown into the pot filled with oil. He took the maiden back to his castle as his wife, and there they lived long and happily together. 1854), no. 38, pp. 125-28. village near Bielefeld in northern Germany.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,The Story of Mr. Fox,England,"Additional note by Hartland: This story was contributed to Malone's Shakspeare by Blakeway, in elucidation of Benedict's speech in 'Much Ado about Nothing,' act 1, scene 1 -- 'Like the old tale, my Lord: it is not so, nor 'twas not so; but indeed, God forbid it should be so!' Blakeway adds that this is evidently an allusion to the tale of 'Mr. Fox,' 'which Shakspeare may have heard, as I have, related by a great-aunt in childhood.' Essentially the same story is found in James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to the Nursery Rhymes of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1849), pp. 47-48.","Edwin Sidney Hartland, English Fairy and Other Folk Tales (London: Walter Scott, [ca. 1890]), pp. 25-27. Hartland's source is Malone's Shakspeare (1821), v. 7, p. 163.","Once upon a time there was a young lady called Lady Mary, who had two brothers. One summer they all three went to a country seat of theirs, which they had not before visited. Among the other gentry in the neighborhood who came to see them was a Mr. Fox, a bachelor, with whom they, particularly the young lady, were much pleased. He used often to dine with them, and frequently invited Lady Mary to come and see his house. One day that her brothers were absent elsewhere, and she had nothing better to do, she determined to go thither, and accordingly set out unattended. When she arrived at the house and knocked at the door, no one answered. At length she opened it and went in; over the portal of the door was written: 'Be bold, be bold, but not too bold.' She advanced; over the staircase was the same inscription. She went up; over the entrance of a gallery, the same again. Still she went on, and over the door of a chamber found written: Be bold, be bold, but not too bold, Lest that your heart's blood should run cold! A few days afterwards Mr. Fox came to dine with them as usual. After dinner the guests began to amuse each other with extraordinary anecdotes, and Lady Mary said she would relate to them a remarkable dream she had lately had. 'I dreamt,' said she, 'that as you, Mr. Fox, had often invited me to your house, I would go there one morning. When I came to the house I knocked at the door, but no one answered. When I opened the door, over the hall I saw written, 'Be bold, be bold, but not too bold.' But,' said she, turning to Mr. Fox, and smiling, 'It is not so, nor it was not so.' Then she pursued the rest of the story, concluding at every turn with, 'It is not so, nor it was not so,' until she came to the room full of skeletons, when Mr. Fox took up the burden of the tale, and said: It is not so, nor it was not so, And God forbid it should be so! But it is so, and it was so, And here the hand I have to show!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
955,The Sweetheart in the Wood,Norway,Link to the tale in Norwegian: Kjæresten i skogen.,"Peter Christian Asbjørnsen, Tales from the Fjeld, translated by G. W. Dasent (London: Chapman and Hall, 1874), pp. 231-37.","Once on a time there was a man who had a daughter, and she was so pretty her name was spread over many kingdoms, and lovers came to her as thick as autumn leaves. One of these made out that he was richer than all the rest; and grand and handsome he was too; so he was to have her, and after that he came over and over again to see her. As time went on, he said he should like her to come to his house and see how he lived; he was sorry he could not fetch her and go with her, but the day she came he would strew peas all along the path right up to his house door; but somehow or other it fell out that he strewed the peas a day too early. She set out and walked a long way, through wood and waste, and at last she came to a big grand house, which stood in a green field in the midst of the wood; but her lover was not at home, nor was there a soul in the house either. First, she went into the kitchen, and there she saw nothing but a strange bird which hung in a cage from the roof. Next she went into the parlour, and there everything was so fine it was beyond belief. But as she went into it, the bird called after her: 'Pretty maiden, be bold, but not too bold.' When she passed on into an inner room, the bird called out the same words. There she saw ever so many chests of drawers, and when she pulled open the drawers, they were filled with gold and silver, and everything that was rich and rare. When she went on into a second room the bird called out again: 'Pretty maiden! be bold, but not too bold.' In that room the walls were all hung round with women's dresses, till the room was crammed full. She went on into a third room, and then the bird screamed out: 'Pretty maiden! Pretty maiden, be bold, but not too bold.' And what do you think she saw there? Why! ever so many pails full of blood. So she passed on to a fourth room, and then the bird screamed and screeched after her: That room was full of heaps of dead bodies, and skeletons of slain women, and the girl got so afraid that she was going to run away out of the house, but she had only got as far as the next room, where the pails of blood stood, when the bird called out to her: 'Pretty maiden! Pretty maiden! Jump under the bed, jump under the bed, for now he's coming.' She was not slow to give heed to the bird, and to hide under the bed. She crept as far back close to the wall as she could, for she was so afraid she would have crept into the wall itself, had she been able! So in came her lover with another girl; and she begged so prettily and so hard he would only spare her life, and then she would never say a word against him, but it was all no good. He tore off all her clothes and jewels, down to a ring which she had on her finger. That he pulled and tore at, but when he couldn't get it off he hacked off her finger, and it rolled away under the bed to the girl who lay there, and she took it up and kept it, Her sweetheart told a little boy who was with him to creep under the bed and bring out the finger. Yes! he bent down and crept under, and saw the girl lying there; but she squeezed his hand hard, and then he saw what she meant. 'It lies so far under, I can't reach it,' he cried. 'Let it bide there till tomorrow, and then I'll fetch it out.' Early next morning the robber went out, and the boy was left behind to mind the house, and he then went to meet the girl to whom his master was betrothed, and who had come, as you know, by mistake the day before. But before he went, the robber told him to be sure not to let her go into the two farthermost bedrooms. So when he was well off in the wood, the boy went and said she might come out now. 'You were lucky, that you were,' he said, 'in coming so soon, else he would have killed you like all the others.' She did not stay there long, you may fancy, but hurried back home as quick as ever she could, and when her father asked her why she had come so soon, she told him what sort of a man her sweetheart was, and all that she had heard and seen. A short time after her lover came passing by that way, and he looked so grand that his raiment shone again, and he came to ask, he said, why she had never paid him that visit as she had promised. 'Oh!' said her father; 'there came a man in the way with a sledge and scattered the peas, and she couldn't find her way; but now you must just put up with our poor house, and stay the night, for you must know we have guests coming, and it will be just a betrothal feast.' So when they had all eaten and drunk, and still sat round the table, the daughter of the house said she had dreamt such a strange dream a few nights before. If they cared to hear it she would tell it them, but they must all promise to sit quite still till she came to the end. Yes! They were all ready to hear, and they all promised to sit still, and her sweetheart as well. 'I dreamt I was walking along a broad path, and it was strewn with peas.' 'Yes! Yes!' said her sweetheart; 'just as it will be when you go to my house, my love.' 'Then the path got narrower and narrower, and it went far far away through wood and waste.' 'Just like the way to my house, my love,' said her sweetheart. 'And so I came to a green field, in which stood a big grand house.' 'Just like my house, my love,' said her sweetheart. 'So I went into the kitchen, but I saw no living soul, and from the roof hung a strange bird in a cage, and as I passed on into the parlour, it called after me, 'Pretty maiden, be bold, but not too bold.'' 'Just like my house that too, my love!' said her sweetheart. 'So I passed on into a bedroom, arid the bird bawled after me the same words, and in there were so many chests of drawers, and when I pulled the drawers out and looked into them, they were filled with gold and silver stuffs, and everything that was grand.' 'That is just like it is at my house, my love,' said her sweetheart. 'I, too, have many drawers full of gold and silver, and costly things.' 'So I went on into another bedroom, and the bird screeched out to me the very same words; and that room was all hung round on the walls with fine dresses of women.' 'Yes, that too, is just as it is in my house,' he said; 'there are dresses and finery there both of silk and satin.' 'Well! when I passed on to the next bedroom, the bird began to screech and scream: 'Pretty maiden, pretty maiden! be bold, but not too bold!' and in this room were casks and pails all round the walls, and they were full of blood.' 'Fie,' said her sweetheart, 'how nasty. It isn't at all like that in my house, my love,' for now he began to grow uneasy and wished to be off. 'Why!' said the daughter, 'it's only a dream, you know, that I am telling. Sit still. The least you can do is to hear my dream out.' Then she went on: 'When I went on into the next bedroom the bird began to scream out as loudly as before, the same words: 'Pretty maiden, pretty maiden! be bold, but not too bold.' And there lay many dead bodies and skeletons of slain folk.' 'No! no,' said her sweetheart, 'there's nothing like that in my house,' and again he tried to run out. 'Sit still, I say,' she said, 'it is nothing else than a dream, and you may very well hear it out. I, too, thought it dreadful, and ran back again, but I had not got farther than the next room where all those pails of blood stood, when the bird screeched out that I must jump under the bed and hide, for now he was coming; and so he came, and with him he had a girl who was so lovely I thought I had never seen her like before. She prayed and begged so prettily that he would spare her life. But he did not care a pin for all her tears and prayers; he tore off her clothes, and took all she had, and he neither spared her life nor aught else; but on her left hand she had a ring, which he could not tear off, so he hacked off her finger, and it rolled away under the bed to me.' 'Indeed! my love,' said her sweetheart, 'there's nothing like that in my house.' 'Yes, it was in your house,' she said, 'and here is the finger and the ring, and you are the man who hacked it off.' So they laid hands on him, and put him to death, and burnt both his body and his house in the wood.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
565,Frodi's Mill,Iceland,"In the above text I have omitted accent marks from the names Grótti, Fródi, and Mýsingr.","Snorri Sturluson, The Prose Edda, translated by Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur (New York: The American-Scandinavian Foundation, 1916), pp. 162-63.","In that time two millstones were found in Denmark, so great that no one was so strong that he could turn them. The nature of the mill was such that whatsoever he who turned asked for, was ground out by the millstones. This mill was called Grotti. He who gave King Frodi the mill was named Hengikjöptr. King Frodi had the maidservants led to the mill, and bade them grind gold; and they did so. First they ground gold and peace and happiness for Frodi; then he would grant them rest or sleep no longer than the cuckoo held its peace or a song might be sung. It is said that they sang the song which is called the Lay of Grotti, and this is its beginning: Now are we come To the king's house, The two fore-knowing, Fenja and Menja: These are with Frodi Son of Fridleifr, The Mighty Maidens, As maid-thralls held. And before they ceased their singing, they ground out a host against Frodi, so that the sea king called Mysingr came there that same night and slew Frodi, taking much plunder. Then the Peace of Frodi was ended. Mysingr took Grotti with him, and Fenja and Menja also, and bade them grind salt. And at midnight they asked whether Mysingr were not weary of salt. He bade them grind longer. They had ground but a little while, when down sank the ship; and from that time there has been a whirlpool in the sea where the water falls through the hole in the millstone. It was then that the sea became salt. Prose Edda, translated by Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur (New York: The American-Scandinavian Foundation, 1916), pp. 162-63. Grótti, Fródi, and Mýsingr.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
565,The Coffee Mill Which Grinds Salt,Denmark,NA,"J. Christian Bay, Danish Fairy and Folk Tales (New York and London: Harper and Brothers, 1899), pp. 11-13.","There was once a little boy by the name of Hans. As his parents died while he was very young, his grandmother took care of him and taught him reading and writing, and to be a good boy. When she became very old, and thought she was about to die, she called the little boy to her and said, 'I am old, Hans, and may not live long. You were always a good boy, and therefore you shall have my only treasure, a coffee mill which I have always kept at the bottom of my old chest. This coffee mill will grind all that you wish. If you say to it, 'Grind a house, little mill,' it will work away, and there the house will stand. When you say, 'Stop, little mill,' it will cease to grind.' Hans thanked his grandmother kindly, and when she died, and he was alone in the world, he opened the chest, took the coffee mill, and went out into the world. When he had walked a long distance, and needed something to eat, he placed the mill on the grass and said, 'Grind some bread and butter, little mill.' Very soon Hans had all that he needed, and then he bid the mill to stop. The next day he came to a large seaport, and when he saw the many vessels, he thought it would be pleasant to see more of the great world. He therefore boarded one of the ships and offered his service to the sailors. As it just happened that the captain needed a boy of Hans's age, he told him to stay. As soon as the ship was out of port, the sailors commenced abusing Hans. He bore the harsh treatment as well as he could, and when he had nothing to eat the mill ground all that he wished. The bad men wondered how he could always be contented, although they gave him but little to eat. One day one of them peeped through a hole in the cabin door and discovered how the coffee mill served him. Now the sailors offered a large sum of money to Hans if he would sell his treasure. He refused, however, saying that it was all that his good old grandmother had left him. So one day these wicked men threw Hans overboard and seized the mill. As they were in need of some salt, they bid it grind for them. The mill immediately began its work, and soon they had enough. Now they asked it to stop, but as the one who had peeped through the hole into the boy's cabin had not learned the exact command, the mill refused to obey, and before long the ship was filled with salt. The men grew desperate, but none of them was able to find a way out of the difficulty. So at length the ship sank down with the mill, the salt, and all the wicked men. The men were drowned, but the mill is yet standing at the bottom of the sea, grinding away, and for this reason the water in the ocean has and always will have a salt taste. Fairy and Folk Tales (New York and London: Harper and Brothers, 1899), 11-13.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
565,Why Sea Water Is Salty,Germany,"The Colshorns' source: 'Oral, in Leer and Hannover.'","Carl and Theodor Colshorn, Märchen und Sagen (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Rümpler, 1854), no. 61, pp. 173-75.","Once upon a time there was a dear, brave boy who had nothing on earth but a blind grandmother and a clear conscience. After finishing school he became a ship's boy and was about to begin his first journey. He saw that all his new comrades were gambling with good money, but he had nothing, not even a penny. This saddened him, and he complained to his grandmother. She thought for a while, then limped into her room and returned with a small mill, which she gave to the boy, saying, 'If you say to the mill, 'Mill, mill, grind for me; grind this or that for me at once!' then it will grind for you whatever you want. And when you say, 'Mill, mill, stand still, for I want nothing more!' then it will stop grinding. But say nothing about this, or it will bring you misfortune!' The boy thanked her, said farewell, and boarded his ship. When his comrades again began to gamble with their money, he took his mill into a dark corner and said, 'Mill, mill, grind for me; grind golden ducats for me at once!' and the mill ground out ducats of pure gold that fell ringing into his leather cap. When the cap was full he said, 'Mill, mill, stand still, for I want nothing more!' and it stopped grinding. He was now the richest of all his comrades. The ship's captain was very miserly, and whenever there was not enough to eat, the boy had only to say, 'Mill, mill, grind for me; grind fresh bread for me at once!' and it would grind away until he said the other words. The mill ground out anything for him that he wanted. His comrades often asked him how he got these good things, but he said only that he was not at liberty to tell them. However, they continued to press him, until at last he told them the whole story. It was not long before the evil ship's captain got wind of this, and he immediately hatched a plot. One evening he called the boy into his cabin and said, 'Fetch your mill and grind out some fresh chickens for me!' The boy went and brought back a basket full of fresh chickens, but the godless man was not satisfied. He beat the poor boy until he brought the mill to him and told him what he had to say to make it grind. However, the boy did not tell him how to make it stop, and the captain did not think to ask him about this. Afterward when the boy was standing alone on deck, the captain went to him and pushed him into the sea, not thinking at all about how much care and concern his father and mother had given for him, nor how his blind grandmother was hoping for his return. He pushed him into the sea, then said that he accidentally had fallen overboard, thinking that this was the end of the story. Then he went into his cabin and said to the mill, 'Mill, mill, grind for me; grind salt for me at once!' and the mill ground out grains of pure white salt. When the bowl was full the ship's captain said, 'That is enough!' but the mill continued to grind forth. Whatever the captain said or did, the mill ground away until the entire cabin was full. He took hold of the mill to throw it overboard, but received such a blow that he fell to the floor as though stunned. The mill continued to grind forth until the entire ship was full and was beginning to sink. Finally the ship's captain grabbed his sword and chopped the mill into tiny pieces; but behold, every little piece became a little mill, and all the mills ground out grains of pure white salt. It was soon over for the ship. It sank with man and mouse and all the mills. These are still grinding out grains of pure white salt at the bottom of the sea. And even if you were to shout out the correct command, they are so deep that they would not hear it. And that is why seawater is so salty. (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Rümpler, 1854), no. 61, pp. 173-75.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
565,Why the Ocean Is Salty,Philippines,"Fansler's source: 'Narrated by José M. Paredes of Bangued, Ilocos Sur. He heard the story from a farmer.'","Source (books.google.com): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: The American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), pp. 425-26. Source (Internet Archive): Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: The American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), pp. 425-26.","A few years after the creation of the world there lived a tall giant by the name of Ang-ngalo, the only son of the god of building. Ang-ngalo was a wanderer, and a lover of work. He lived in the mountains, where he dug many caves. These caves he protected from the continual anger of Angin, the goddess of the wind, by precipices and sturdy trees. One bright morning, while Ang-ngalo was climbing to his loftiest cave, he spied across the ocean -- the ocean at the time was pure, its water being the accumulated tears of disappointed goddesses -- a beautiful maid. She beckoned to him, and waved her black handkerchief; so Ang-ngalo waded across to her through the water. The deep caverns in the ocean are his footprints. This beautiful maid was Sipgnet, the goddess of the dark. She said to Ang-ngalo, 'I am tired of my dark palace in heaven. You are a great builder. What I want you to do for me is to erect a great mansion on this spot. This mansion must be built of bricks as white as snow.' Ang-ngalo could not find any bricks as white as snow; the only white thing there was then was salt. So he went for help to Asin, the ruler of the kingdom of Salt. Asin gave him pure bricks of salt, as white as snow. Then Ang-ngalo built hundreds of bamboo bridges across the ocean. Millions of men were employed day and night transporting the white bricks from one side of the ocean to the other. At last the patience of Ocean came to an end; she could not bear to have her deep and quiet slumber disturbed. One day, while the men were busy carrying the salt bricks across the bridges, she sent forth big waves and destroyed them. The brick-carriers and their burden were buried in her deep bosom. In time the salt dissolved, and today the ocean is salty.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
565,Why the Sea Is Salt,Norway,Link to the tale in the orignal Norwegian: Kvernen som står og maler på havsens bunn (The Quern that Stands and Grinds at the Bottom of the Sea). Note that Dasent changed the title in his translation.,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), pp. 9-15.","Once on a time, but it was a long, long time ago, there were two brothers, one rich and one poor. Now, one Christmas eve, the poor one hadn't so much as a crumb in the house, either of meat or bread, so he went to his brother to ask him for something to keep Christmas with, in God's name. It was not the first time his brother had been forced to help him, and you may fancy he wasn't very glad to see his face, but he said, 'If you will do what I ask you to do, I'll give you a whole flitch [side] of bacon.' So the poor brother said he would do anything, and was full of thanks. 'Well, here is the flitch,' said the rich brother, 'and now go straight to hell.' 'What I have given my word to do, I must stick to,' said the other; so he took the flitch and set off. He walked the whole day, and at dusk he came to a place where he saw a very bright light. 'Maybe this is the place,' said the man to himself. So he turned aside, and the first thing he saw was an old, old man, with a long white beard, who stood in an outhouse hewing wood for the Christmas fire. 'Good even,' said the man with the flitch. 'The same to you; whither are you going so late?' said the man. 'Oh! I'm going to hell, if I only knew the right way,' answered the poor man. 'Well, you're not far wrong, for this is hell,' said the old man. 'When you get inside they will be all for buying your flitch, for meat is scarce in hell; but mind, you don't sell it unless you get the hand-quern which stands behind the door for it. When you come out, I'll teach you how to handle the quern, for it's good to grind almost anything.' So the man with the flitch thanked the other for his good advice, and gave a great knock at the devil's door. When he got in, everything went just as the old man had said. All the devils, great and small, came swarming up to him like ants round an anthill, and each tried to outbid the other for the flitch. 'Well!' said the man, 'by rights my old dame and I ought to have this flitch for our Christmas dinner; but since you have all set your hearts on it, I suppose I must give it up to you; but if I sell it at all, I'll have for it that quern behind the door yonder.' At first the devil wouldn't hear of such a bargain, and chaffered and haggled with the man; but he stuck to what he said, and at last the devil had to part with his quern. When the man got out into the yard, he asked the old woodcutter how he was to handle the quern; and after he had heard how to use it, he thanked the old man and went off home as fast as he could, but still the clock had struck twelve on Christmas eve before he had reached his own door. 'Wherever in the world have you been?' said his old dame. 'Here have I sat hour after hour waiting and watching, without so much as two sticks to lay together under the Christmas brose.' 'Oh!' said the man, 'I could not get back before, for I had to go a long way, first for one thing, and then for another; but now you shall see what you shall see.' So he put the quern on the table, and bade it first of all grind lights, then a tablecloth, then meat, then ale, and so on till they had got everything that was nice for Christmas fare. He had only to speak the word, and the quern ground out what he wanted. The old dame stood by blessing her stars, and kept on asking where he had got this wonderful quern, but he wouldn't tell her. 'It's all one where I got it from; you see the quern is a good one, and the millstream never freezes. That's enough.' So he ground meat and drink and dainties enough to last till Twelfth Day, and on the third day he asked all his friends and kin to his house, and gave a great feast. Now, when his rich brother saw all that was on the table, and all that was behind in the larder, he grew quite spiteful and wild, for he couldn't bear that his brother should have anything. ''Twas only on Christmas eve,' he said to the rest, 'he was in such straits, that he came and asked for a morsel of food in God's name, and now he gives a feast as if he were count or king.' And he turned to his brother and said, 'But whence, in hell's name, have you got all this wealth?' 'From behind the door,' answered the owner of the quern, for he didn't care to let the cat out of the bag. But later on the evening, when he had got a drop too much, he could keep his secret no longer, and brought out the quern and said, 'There, you see what has gotten me all this wealth.' And so he made the quern grind all kind of things. When his brother saw it, he set his heart on having the quern, and, after a deal of coaxing, he got it; but he had to pay three hundred dollars for it, and his brother bargained to keep it till hay harvest, for he thought, if I keep it till then, I can make it grind meat and drink that will last for years. So you may fancy the quern didn't grow rusty for want of work, and when hay harvest came, the rich brother got it, but the other took care not to teach him how to handle it. It was evening when the rich brother got the quern home, and next morning he told his wife to go out into the hayfield and toss, while the mowers cut the grass, and he would stay at home and get the dinner ready. So, when dinnertime drew near, he put the quern on the kitchen table and said, 'Grind herrings and broth, and grind them good and fast.' So the quern began to grind herrings and broth; first of all, all the dishes full, then all the tubs full, and so on till the kitchen floor was quite covered. Then the man twisted and twirled at the quern to get it to stop, but for all his twisting and fingering the quern went on grinding, and in a little while the broth rose so high that the man was like to drown. So he threw open the kitchen door and ran into the parlor, but it wasn't long before the quern had ground the parlor full too, and it was only at the risk of his life that the man could get hold of the latch of the house door through the stream of broth. When he got the door open, he ran out and set off down the road, with the stream of herrings and broth at his heels, roaring like a waterfall over the whole farm. Now, his old dame, who was in the field tossing hay, thought it a long time to dinner, and at last she said, 'Well! though the master doesn't call us home, we may as well go. Maybe he finds it hard work to boil the broth, and will be glad of my help.' The men were willing enough, so they sauntered homewards; but just as they had got a little way up the hill, what should they meet but herrings, and broth, and bread, all running, and dashing, and splashing together in a stream, and the master himself running before them for his life, and as he passed them he bawled out, 'Would to heaven each of you had a hundred throats! But take care you're not drowned in the broth.' Away he went, as though the Evil One were at his heels, to his brother's house, and begged him for God's sake to take back the quern that instant; for, said he, 'If it grinds only one hour more, the whole parish will be swallowed up by herrings and broth.' But his brother wouldn't hear of taking it back till the other paid him down three hundred dollars more. So the poor brother got both the money and the quern, and it wasn't long before he set up a farmhouse far finer than the one in which his brother lived, and with the quern he ground so much gold that he covered it with plates of gold; and as the farm lay by the seaside, the golden house gleamed and glistened far away over the sea. All who sailed by put ashore to see the rich man in the golden house, and to see the wonderful quern, the fame of which spread far and wide, till there was nobody who hadn't heard tell of it. So one day there came a skipper who wanted to see the quern; and the first thing he asked was if it could grind salt. 'Grind salt!' said the owner; 'I should just think it could. It can grind anything.' When the skipper heard that, he said he must have the quern, cost what it would; for if he only had it, he thought he should be rid of his long voyages across stormy seas for a lading of salt. Well, at first the man wouldn't hear of parting with the quern; but the skipper begged and prayed so hard, that at last he let him have it, but he had to pay many, many thousand dollars for it. Now, when the skipper had got the quern on his back, he soon made off with it, for he was afraid lest the man should change his mind; so he had no time to ask how to handle the quern, but got on board his ship as fast as he could, and set sail. When he had sailed a good way off, he brought the quern on deck and said, 'Grind salt, and grind both good and fast.' Well, the quern began to grind salt so that it poured out like water; and when the skipper had got the ship full, he wished to stop the quern, but whichever way he turned it, and however much he tried, it was no good; the quern kept grinding on, and the heap of salt grew higher and higher, and at last down sunk the ship. There lies the quern at the bottom of the sea, and grinds away at this very day, and that is the reason why the sea is salt. Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), pp. 9-15. på havsens bunn (The Quern that Stands and Grinds at the Bottom of the Sea). Note that Dasent changed the title in his translation.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278,The Frog and the Rat,Jean de La Fontaine,NA,NA,"Merlin said well, that those who often cheat Will sometimes cheat themselves -- the phrase is old. I'm sorry that it is, I must repeat, It's full of energy, and sound as gold. But to my story: Once a well fed rat, Rotund and wealthy, plump and fat, Not knowing either Fast or Lent, Lounging beside a marsh pool went. A frog addressed him in the frog's own tongue, And asked him home to dinner civilly. No need to make the invitation long. He spoke, however, of the things he'd see: The pleasant bath, worth curiosity; The novelties along the marsh's shore, The score and score Of spots of beauty, manners of the races, The government of various places, Some day he would recount with glee Unto his youthful progeny. One thing alone the gallant vexed, And his adventurous soul perplexed; He swam but little, and he needed aid. The friendly frog was undismayed; His paw to hers she strongly tied, And then they started side by side. The hostess towed her frightened guest Quick to the bottom of the lake -- Perfidious breach of law of nations -- All promises she faithless breaks, And sinks her friend to make fresh rations. Already did her appetite Dwell on the morsel with delight, Lunch, Scrunch! He prays the gods; she mocks his woe; He struggles up; she pulls below. And while this combat is fought out, A kite that's seeking all about Sees the poor rat that's like to drown; And pounces swift as lightning down. The frog tied to him, by the way, Also became the glad kite's prey; They gave him all that he could wish, A supper both of meat and fish. So oftentimes a base deceit Falls back upon the father cheat; So oftentimes doth perfidy Return with triple usury. Return to: Folklore and Mythology Electronic Texts.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278,"The Mouse, the Frog, and the Hawk",Aesop,NA,NA,"A mouse and a frog struck up a friendship. They were not well mated, for the mouse lived entirely on land, while the frog was equally at home on land or in the water. In order that they might never be separated, the frog tied himself and the mouse together by the leg with a piece of thread. As long as they kept on dry land all went fairly well; but, coming to the edge of a pool, the frog jumped in, taking the mouse with him, and began swimming about and croaking with pleasure. The unhappy mouse, however, was soon drowned, and floated about on the surface in the wake of the frog. There he was spied by a hawk, who pounced down on him and seized him in his talons. The frog was unable to loose the knot which bound him to the mouse, and thus was carried off along with him and eaten by the hawk.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
278,The Scorpion and the Tortoise,Bidpai,NA,NA,"A scorpion and a tortoise became such fast friends that they took a vow that they would never separate. So when it happened that one of them was obliged to leave his native land, the other promised to go with him. They had traveled only a short distance when they came to a wide river. The scorpion was now greatly troubled. 'Alas,' he said, 'you, my friend, can easily swim, but how can a poor scorpion like me ever get across this stream?' 'Never fear,' replied the tortoise; 'only place yourself squarely on my broad back and I will carry you safely over.' No sooner was the scorpion settled on the tortoise's broad back, than the tortoise crawled into the water and began to swim. Halfway across he was startled by a strange rapping on his back, which made him ask the scorpion what he was doing. 'Doing?' answered the scorpion. 'I am whetting my sting to see if it is possible to pierce your hard shell.' 'Ungrateful friend,' responded the tortoise, 'it is well that I have it in my power both to save myself and to punish you as you deserve.' And straightway he sank his back below the surface and shook off the scorpion into the water.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,A Donegal Fairy,Ireland,Yeats's source: Letitia Maclintock.,"W. B. Yeats, Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry (London: Walter Scott, 1888), p. 46.","My mother's sister was her lone in the house one day, wi' a' big pot o' water boiling on the fire, and ane o' the wee folk fell down the chimney, and slipped wi' his leg in the hot water. He let a terrible squeal out o' him, an' in a minute the house was full o' wee crathurs pulling him out o' the pot, an' carrying him across the floor. 'Did she scald you?' my aunt heard them saying to him. 'Na, na, it was mysel' scalded my ainsel',' quoth the wee fellow. 'A weel, a weel,' says they. 'If it was your ainsel scalded yoursel', we'll say nothing, but if she had scalded you, we'd ha' made her pay.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,Issi Teggi (Self Did It),Estonia,"Another translation of this legend is found in Jacob Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, translated by James Steven Stallybrass, vol. 3 (London: George Bell and Sons, 1883), pp. 1027-28.","Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, vol. 1, 3rd edition (Göttingen: Dieterichsche Buchhandlung, 1854), pp. 979-80.","The Estonians call a farm servant who is in charge of barns and grain a row-man. Such a row-man was once sitting and molding buttons when the devil came up to him, greeted him, and asked, 'What are you doing there?' 'I am molding eyes.' 'Eyes? Can you mold me some new ones?' 'Oh yes, but right now I do not have any at hand.' 'But would you do it for me another time?' 'I can do that,' said the row-man. 'When should I come back?' 'Whenever you want to.' The next day the devil returned to have eyes molded for himself. The row-man said, 'Do you want large ones or small ones?' 'Very large ones.' The man began to melt a large quantity of lead, saying, 'I cannot mold for you unless you let me tie you down.' He told him to lie down with his back on a bench, then took some thick, strong cords and tied him down securely. After the devil was tightly bound, he asked, 'What is your name?' 'My name is Issi (self).' 'That is a good name. I do not know of a better one.' The lead was now molten. The devil opened his eyes wide, thinking to get new ones, and waiting for the cast. 'I'm pouring now,' said the row-man, then poured the hot lead into the devil's eyes. The devil jumped up, with the bench on his back, and ran away. He ran past some people who were plowing in a field. They asked, 'Who did that to you?' The devil answered, 'Issi teggi (self did it).' The people laughed and said, 'Self done, self have.' The devil died of his new eyes, and since then no one has ever seen him again. Mythologie, vol. 1, 3rd edition (Göttingen: Dieterichsche Buchhandlung, 1854), pp. 979-80. not have an easy English equivalent. Mythology, translated by James Steven Stallybrass, vol. 3 (London: George Bell and Sons, 1883), pp. 1027-28.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,Legends of the Mill: The Beggar Woman and the Fairy,Norway,"Brækstad's source: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, 'Kvernsagn,' Norske Huldre-Eventyr og Folkesagn, 3rd edition (Christiania [Oslo]: P. F. Steensballe, 1870), pp. 1-10. Another translation of this story is: 'Self Did It,' The Norwegian Fairy Book, edited by Clara Stroebe; translated by Frederick H. Martens (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1922), pp. 81-82.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Folk and Fairy Tales, translated by H. L. Brækstad (New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1883), pp. 157-58.","'Oh, dear no!' said the owner of the mill; 'you can't stay there at night; neither you nor the mill would have any peace for the goblin.' But the beggar-woman wanted so badly to get her corn ground, for she had not a spoonful of meal to make either soup or porridge for the children at home. Well, at last she got leave to go into the mill and grind her corn at night. When she came there, she made a fire on the hearth, where a big pot of tar was hanging. She started the mill, and sat down by the hearth with her knitting. In a while a girl came into the mill and said 'Good evening' to her. 'Good evening,' answered the beggar-woman, and went on with her knitting. But very soon the strange girl began raking the fire out over the hearth, but the beggar-woman raked it together again. 'What's your name?: said the fairy, as you already will have guessed that the strange girl was. 'My name is Self!' answered the beggar-woman. 'The girl thought that was a strange name, and began raking the fire about again. This made the beggar-woman angry, and she began scolding and raking the fire together. They were thus employed for some time, when the beggar-woman, watching her opportunity, upset the boiling tar over the girl, who began screaming and screeching, and as she ran out of the mill, she cried, 'Father, father, Self has burnt me!' 'Well, if you have burnt yourself, you have only yourself to blame,' said a voice in the hill.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,My Ainsel,"Northumberland, England","This story has been reprinted or retold in many collections, including: Balfour, M. C. County Folk-Lore, vol. 4: Examples of Printed Folk-Lore Concerning Northumberland (London: David Nutt, 1904), pp. 15-16. Clouston, W. A. The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1888), p. 194. Hartland, Edwin Sidney, English Fairy and Other Folk Tales (London: Walter Scott Publishing Company, [ca. 1890]), pp. 149-50. Keightley, Thomas, The Fairy Mythology, Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of various Countries, new edition, revised and greatly enlarged (London: H. G. Bohn, 1850), p. 313. Balfour, M. C. County Folk-Lore, vol. 4: Examples of Printed Folk-Lore Concerning Northumberland (London: David Nutt, 1904), pp. 15-16. Clouston, W. A. The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1888), p. 194. Hartland, Edwin Sidney, English Fairy and Other Folk Tales (London: Walter Scott Publishing Company, [ca. 1890]), pp. 149-50. Keightley, Thomas, The Fairy Mythology, Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of various Countries, new edition, revised and greatly enlarged (London: H. G. Bohn, 1850), p. 313.","M. A. Richardson, The Local Historian's Table Book of Remarkable Occurrences, Historical Facts, Traditions, Legendary and Descriptive Ballads, etc., etc., Connected with the Counties of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, Northumberland, and Durham, vol. 3 (London: J. R. Smith, 1846), pp. 48-49.","A widow and her son, a little boy, lived together in a cottage in or near the village of Rothley, Northumberland. One winter evening, the child refused to go to bed with his mother, as he wished to sit up for a while longer, 'for,' said he 'I am not sleepy.' The mother, finding remonstrance in vain, at last told him that if he sat up by himself, the fairies would most certainly come and take him away. The boy laughed as his mother went to bed, leaving him sitting by the fire. He had not been there long, watching the fire and enjoying its cheerful warmth, till a beautiful little figure, about the size of a child's doll, descended the chimney, and alighted on the hearth! The little fellow was somewhat startled at first, but its prepossessing smile as it paced to and fro before him, soon overcame his fears, and he enquired familiarly 'What do they ca' thou?' 'Ainsel' answered the little thing haughtily, at the same time retorting the question, 'And what do they ca' thou?' 'My Ainsel,' answered the boy; and they commenced playing together like two children newly acquainted. Their gambols continued quite innocently until the fire began to grow dim; the boy then took up the poker to stir it, when a hot cinder accidentally fell upon the foot of his playmate, her tiny voice was instantly raised to a most terrific roar, and the boy had scarcely time to crouch into the bed behind his mother, before the voice of the old fairy mother was heard shouting 'Who's done it? Who's done it?' 'Oh! It was My Ainsel!' answered the daughter. 'Why then,' said the mother, as she kicked her up the chimney, 'What's all the noise for, there's nyen [no one] to blame.' Local Historian's Table Book of Remarkable Occurrences, Historical Facts, Traditions, Legendary and Descriptive Ballads, etc., etc., Connected with the Counties of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, Northumberland, and Durham, vol. 3 (London: J. R. Smith, 1846), pp. 48-49. This story has been reprinted or retold in many collections, including: Balfour, M. C. County Folk-Lore, vol. 4: Examples of Printed Folk-Lore Concerning Northumberland (London: David Nutt, 1904), pp. 15-16. Clouston, W. A. The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1888), p. 194. Hartland, Edwin Sidney, English Fairy and Other Folk Tales (London: Walter Scott Publishing Company, [ca. 1890]), pp. 149-50. Keightley, Thomas, The Fairy Mythology, Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of various Countries, new edition, revised and greatly enlarged (London: H. G. Bohn, 1850), p. 313.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,My Own Self,"Sunderland, England","Jacobs' source: 'Told to Mrs. [M. C. ] Balfour by Mrs. W., a native of North Sunderland, who had seen the cottage and heard the tale from persons who had known the widow and her boy, and had got the story direct from them. The title was Me A'an Sel', which I have altered to My Own Self' (p. 221).","Joseph Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 16-19.","In a tiny house in the North Countrie, far away from any town or village, there lived not long ago, a poor widow all alone with her little son, a six-year-old boy. The house-door opened straight on to the hillside, and all round about were moorlands and huge stones, and swampy hollows; never a house nor a sign of life wherever you might look, for their nearest neighbors were the 'ferlies' in the glen below, and the 'will-o'-the-wisps' in the long grass along the path-side. And many a tale she could tell of the 'good folk' calling to each other in the oak trees, and the twinkling lights hopping on to the very window sill, on dark nights; but in spite of the loneliness, she lived on from year to year in the little house, perhaps because she was never asked to pay any rent for it. But she did not care to sit up late, when the fire burnt low, and no one knew what might be about; so, when they had had their supper she would make up a good fire and go off to bed, so that if anything terrible did happen, she could always hide her head under the bedclothes. This, however, was far too early to please her little son; so when she called him to bed, he would go on playing beside the fire, as if he did not hear her. He had always been bad to do with since the day he was born, and his mother did not often care to cross him; indeed, the more she tried to make him obey her, the less heed he paid to anything she said, so it usually ended by his taking his own way. But one night, just at the fore-end of winter, the widow could not make up her mind to go off to bed, and leave him playing by the fireside; for the wind was tugging at the door, and rattling the windowpanes, and well she knew that on such a night, fairies and such like were bound to be out and about, and bent on mischief. So she tried to coax the boy into going at once to bed. 'The safest bed to bide in, such a night as this!' she said; but no, he wouldn't. Then she threatened to 'give him the stick,' but it was no use. The more she begged and scolded, the more he shook his head; and when at last she lost patience and cried that the fairies would surely come and fetch him away, he only laughed and said he wished they would, for he would like one to play with. At that his mother burst into tears, and went off to bed in despair, certain that after such words something dreadful would happen, while her naughty little son sat on his stool by the fire, not at all put out by her crying. But he had not long been sitting there alone, when he heard a fluttering sound near him in the chimney, and presently down by his side dropped the tiniest wee girl you could think of; she was not a span high, and had hair like spun silver, eyes as green as grass, and cheeks red as June roses. The little boy looked at her with surprise. 'Oh!' said he; 'what do they call ye?' 'My own self,' she said in a shrill but sweet little voice, and she looked at him too. 'And what do they call ye?' 'Just my own self too?' he answered cautiously; and with that they began to play together. She certainly showed him some fine games. She made animals out of the ashes that looked and moved like life; and trees with green leaves waving over tiny houses, with men and women an inch high in them, who, when she breathed on them, fell to walking and talking quite properly. But the fire was getting low, and the light dim, and presently the little boy stirred the coals with a stick, to make them blaze; when out jumped a red-hot cinder, and where should it fall, but on the fairy-child's tiny foot. Thereupon she set up such a squeal, that the boy dropped the stick, and clapped his hands to his ears; but it grew to so shrill a screech, that it was like all the wind in the world, whistling through one tiny keyhole. There was a sound in the chimney again, but this time the little boy did not wait to see what it was, but bolted off to bed, where he hid under the blankets and listened in fear and trembling to what went on. A voice came from the chimney speaking sharply. 'Who's there, and what's wrong?' it said. 'It's my own self,' sobbed the fairy child; 'and my foot's burnt sore. O-o-h!' 'Who did it?' said the voice angrily; this time it sounded nearer, and the boy, peeping from under the clothes, could see a white face looking out from the chimney opening. 'Just my own self too!' said the fairy-child again. 'Then if ye did it your own self,' cried the elf-mother shrilly, 'what's the use o' making all this fash about it?' And with that she stretched out a long thin arm, and caught the creature by its ear, and, shaking it roughly, pulled it after her, out of sight up the chimney. The little boy lay awake a long time, listening, in case the fairy mother should come back after all; and next evening after supper, his mother was surprised to find that he was willing to go to bed whenever she liked. 'He's taking a turn for the better at last!' she said to herself; but he was thinking just then that, when next a fairy came to play with him, he might not get off quite so easily as he had done this time. English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 16-19. Jacobs' source: 'Told to Mrs. [M. C. ] Balfour by Mrs. W., a native of North Sunderland, who had seen the cottage and heard the tale from persons who had known the widow and her boy, and had got the story direct from them. The title was Me A'an Sel', which I have altered to My Own Self' (p. 221).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,Mysel' i' da Mill,"Shetland Islands, Scotland",NA,"John Nicolson, Some Folk-Tales and Legends of Shetland (Edinburgh: Thomas Allan and Sons, 1920), p. 31.","A Yell man was grinding corn in the water mill one night. He was alone, and according to custom, was winding floss (common rush) to pass the time. As the grinding was likely to occupy most of the night he set about preparing supper. He had brought a fowl with him which he proceeded to roast, using the klibbi-tengs (fire-tongs made from a bent hoop) as a gridiron. Presently he heard the sound of music and dancing and knew that the trows had come. Shortly afterwards the door was quietly opened. One of them, a young woman, came into the mill and wanted to know the occupant's name. The man knew whom he had to deal with, however, and the answer he gave was a cautious one. 'Mysel' i' da mill,' he replied. The visitor, however, seemed in no hurry to depart. She went to the fire and touched the fowl, and afterwards approached the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. This rather upset his temper. He resented the familiarity, and seizing the sizzling fowl by its legs, he dashed it full in the woman's face. The latter immediately fled outside screaming with pain and fright. The music ceased, and the merrymakers crowded round their companion, and with anger in their voices, demanded to know how she had come by the injury. 'It was mysel' i' da mill,' she told them. On hearing this, the trows replied in chorus, 'Sel' dö sel' ha'e.' The mirth was resumed, and the lone occupant of the mill settled down to his task, well satisfied that his ready wit had saved him. (Edinburgh: Thomas Allan and Sons, 1920), p. 31.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,The Fairy in the House,Basque,"Webster's source: Estefanella Hirigaray. This tale lacks the expected exchange in which the fairy's antagonist claims that his name is 'Self,' or equivalent.","Wentworth Webster, Basque Legends (London: Griffith and Farran, 1879), pp. 55-56.","There was once upon a time a gentleman and lady. And the lady was spinning one evening. There came to her a fairy, and they could not get rid of her; and they gave her every evening some ham to eat, and at last they got very tired of their fairy. One day the lady said to her husband, 'I cannot bear this fairy; I wish I could drive her away.' And the husband plots to dress himself up in his wife's clothes just as if it was she, and he does so. The wife goes to bed, and the husband remains in the kitchen alone, and the fairy comes as usual. And the husband was spinning. The fairy says to him, 'Good-day, madam.' 'The same to you too; sit down.' 'Before you made chirm, chirin, but now you make firgilun, fargalun.' [That is, the wife span evenly with a clear steady sound of the wheel, but the man did it unevenly.] The man replies, 'Yes, now I am tired.' As his wife used to give her ham to eat, the man offers her some also. 'Will you take your supper now?' 'Yes, if you please,' replies the fairy. He puts the frying-pan on the fire with a bit of ham. While that was cooking, and when it was red, red-hot, he throws it right into the fairy's face. The poor fairy begins to cry out, and then come thirty of her friends. 'Who has done any harm to you?' 'I, to myself; I have hurt myself.' 'If you have done it yourself, cure it yourself.' And all the fairies go off, and since then there came no more fairies to that house. This gentleman and lady were formerly so well off, but since the fairy comes no longer the house little by little goes to ruin, and their life was spent in wretchedness. If they had lived well they would have died well too.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,The Miller and the Ourisk,Scotland,NA,"Sir Walter Scott, Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft (London: George routledge and Sons, 1884), p. 98. First published 1831.","The ourisk of the Celts was a creature by no means peculiarly malevolent or formidably powerful, but rather a melancholy spirit, which dwelt in wildernesses far removed from men. If we are to identify him with the Brown Dwarf of the Border moors, the ourisk has a mortal term of life and a hope of salvation, as indeed the same high claim was made by the satyr who appeared to St. Anthony. Moreover, the Highland ourisk was a species of lubber fiend, and capable of being over-reached by those who understood philology. It is related of one of these goblins which frequented a mill near the foot of Loch Lomond, that the miller, desiring to get rid of this meddling spirit, who injured the machinery by setting the water on the wheel when there was no grain to be grinded, contrived to have a meeting with the goblin by watching in his mill till night. The ourisk then entered, and demanded the miller's name, and was informed that he was called Myself; on which is founded a story almost exactly like that of Outis in The Odyssey, a tale which, though classic, is by no means an elegant or ingenious fiction, but which we are astonished to find in an obscure district, and in the Celtic tongue, seeming to argue some connection or communication between these remote Highlands of Scotland and the readers of Homer in former days, which we cannot account for. After all, perhaps, some churchman more learned than his brethren may have transferred the legend from Sicily to Duncrune, from the shores of the Mediterranean to those of Loch Lomond. on Demonology and Witchcraft (London: George routledge and Sons, 1884), p. 98. First published 1831.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1137,The Story of Tam M'Kechan,Scotland,NA,"Hugh Miller, Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland: The Traditional History of Cromarty, 2nd edition (London: Johnstone and Hunter, 1850), pp. 460-70.","As a poor man, however, and the son of a poor man, Tam M'Kechan seemed to bid pretty fair for the gallows; nor could he plead ignorance that such was the general opinion. He had been told so when a herd-boy; for it was no unusual matter for his master, a farmer of the parish, to find him stealing peas in the corner of one field, when the whole of his charge were ravaging the crops of another. He had been told so too when a sailor, ere he had broken his indentures and ran away, when once caught among the casks and packages in the hold, ascertaining where the Geneva and the sweetmeats were stowed. And now that be was a drover and a horse-jockey, people, though they no longer told him so, for Tam had become dangerous, seemed as certain of the fact as ever. With all his roguery, however, when not much in liquor he was by no means a very disagreeable companion; few could match him at a song or the bagpipe, and though rather noisy in his cups and somewhat quarrelsome, his company was a good deal courted by the bolder spirits of the parish, and among the rest by the miller. Tam had heard of the piebald horses and their ghostly attendants [fairies that were believed to frequent the area]; but without more knowledge than fell to the share of his neighbors, he was a much greater skeptic, and after rallying the miller on his ingenuity and the prettiness of his fancy, he volunteered to spend a night at the mill, with no other companion than his pipes. Preparatory to the trial the miller invited one of his neighbors, the young farmer of Eathie, that they might pass the early part of the evening with Tam; but when, after an hour's hard drinking, they rose to leave the cottage, the farmer, a kindhearted lad, who was besides warmly attached to the jockey's only sister, would fain have dissuaded him from the undertaking. 'I've been thinking, Tam,' he said, 'that flyte wi' the miller as ye may, ye would better let the good people alone; or stay, sin' ye are sae bent on playing the fule, I'll e'en play it wi' you; rax me my plaid; we'll trim up the fire in the killogie thegether; an' you will keep me in music.' 'Na, Jock Hossack,' said Tam, 'I maun keep my good music for the good people; it's rather late to flinch now; but come to the burn edge wi' me the night, an' to the mill as early in the morning as ye may; an' hark ye, tak a double caulker [dram] wi' you.' He wrapt himself up closely in his plaid, took the pipes under his arm, and, accompanied by Jock and the miller, set out for the dell, into which, however, he insisted on descending alone. Before leaving the bank, his companions could see that he had succeeded in lighting up a fire in the mill, which gleamed through every bore and opening, and could hear the shrill notes of a pibroch [a bagpipe tune] mingling with the dash of the cascade. The sun had risen high enough to look aslant into the dell, when Jock and the miller descended to the mill, and found the door lying wide open. All was silent within; the fire had sunk into a heap of white ashes, though there was a bundle of fagots untouched beside it, and the stool on which Tam had been seated lay overturned in front. But there were no traces of Tam, except that the miller picked up, beside the stool, a little flat-edged instrument, used by the unfortunate jockey in concealing the age of his horses by effacing the marks on their teeth, and that Jock Hossack found one of the drones of his pipes among the extinguished embers. Weeks passed away, and there was still nothing heard of Tam; and as everyone seemed to think it would be in vain to seek for him any where but in the place where he had been lost, Jock Hossack, whose marriage was vexatiously delayed in consequence of his strange disappearance, came to the resolution of unraveling the mystery, if possible, by passing a night in the mill. For the first few hours he found the evening wear heavily away; the only sounds that reached him were the loud monotonous dashings of the cascade, and the duller rush of the stream as it swept past the mill-wheel. He piled up fuel on the fire till the flames rose halfway to the ceiling, and every beam and rafter stood out from the smoke as clearly as by day; and then yawning, as he thought how companionable a thing a good fire is, he longed for something to amuse him. A sudden cry rose from the further gable, accompanied by a flutter of wings, and one of the miller's ducks, a fine plump bird, came swooping down among the live embers. 'Poor bird!' said Jock, 'From the fox to the fire; I had almost forgotten that I wanted my supper.' He dashed the duck against the floor -- plucked and emboweled it -- and then, suspending the carcass by a string before the fire, began to twirl it round and round to the heat. The strong odoriferous fume had begun to fill the apartment, and the drippings to hiss and sputter among the embers, when a burst of music rose so suddenly from the green without, that Jock, who had been so engaged with the thoughts of his supper as almost to have forgotten the fames, started half a yard from his seat. 'That maun be Tam's pipes,' he said ; and giving a twirl to the duck he rose to a window. The moon, only a few days in her wane, was looking aslant into the dell, lighting the huge melancholy cliffs with their birches and hazels, and the white flickering descent of the cascade. The little level green on the margin of the stream lay more in the shade; but Jock could see that it was crowded with figures marvelously diminutive in stature, and that nearly one half of them were engaged in dancing. It was enough for him, however, that the music was none of Tam's making; and, leaving the little creatures to gambol undisturbed, he returned to the fire. He had hardly resumed his seat when a low tap was heard at the door, and shortly after a second and a third. Jock sedulously turned his duck to the heat, and sat still. He had no wish for visitors, and determined on admitting none. The door, however, though firmly bolted, fell open of itself, and there entered one of the strangest-looking creatures he had ever seen. The figure was that of a man, hut it was little more than three feet in height; and though the face was as sallow and wrinkled as that of a person of eighty, the eye had the roguish sparkle and the limbs all the juvenile activity of fourteen. 'What's your name, man?' said the little thing coming up to Jock, and peering into his face till its wild elfish features were within a few inches of his. 'What's your name?' 'Mysel' an Mysel'' -- i. e., myself -- said Jock, with a policy similar to that resorted to by Ulysses in the cave of the giant. 'Ah, Mysel' an Mysel'!' rejoined the creature; 'Mysel an Mysel'! and what's that you have got there, Mysel' an Mysel'?' touching the duck as it spoke with the tip of its finger, and then transferring part of the scalding gravy to the cheek of Jock. Rather an unwarrantable liberty, thought the poor fellow, for so slight an acquaintance; the creature reiterated the question, and dabbed Jock's other cheek with a larger and still more scalding application of the gravy. 'What is it?' he exclaimed, losing in his anger all thought of consequences, and dashing the bird, with the full swing of his arm, against the face of his visitor, 'It's that!' The little creature, blinded and miserably burnt, screamed out in pain and terror till the roof rung again; the music ceased in a moment, and Jock Hossack had barely time to cover the fire with a fresh heap of fuel, which for a few seconds reduced the apartment to total darkness, when the crowd without came swarming like wasps to every door and window of the mill. 'Who did it, Sanachy -- who did it?' was the query of a thousand voices at once. 'Oh, 'twas Mysel' an Mysel',' said the creature; ''twas Mysel' an Mysel'.' 'And if it was yoursel' and yoursel', who, poor Sanachy,' replied his companions, 'can help that?' They still, however, clustered round the mill; the flames began to rise in long pointed columns through the smoke, and Jock Hossack had just given himself up for lost, when a cock crew outside the building, and after a sudden breeze had moaned for a few seconds among the cliffs and the bushes, and then stink in the lower recesses of the dell, he found himself alone. He was married shortly after to the sister of the lost jockey, and never again saw the good people, or, what he regretted nearly as little, his unfortunate brother-in-law. There were some, however, who affirmed, that the latter had returned from fairyland seven years after his mysterious disappearance, and supported the assertion by the fact, that there was one Thomas M'Kechan who suffered at Perth for sheep-stealing a few months after the expiry of the seventh year.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,Dorani,Punjab,"Lang's source: 'Major Campbell, Feroshepore.' The Punjab region is today divided between Pakistan (65%) and India (35%).","Andrew Lang, The Olive Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1907), pp. 188-97.","Once upon a time there lived in a city of Hindustan a seller of scents and essences, who had a very beautiful daughter named Dorani. This maiden had a friend who was a fairy, and the two were high in favor with Indra, the king of fairyland, because they were able to sing so sweetly and dance so deftly that no one in the kingdom could equal them for grace and beauty. Dorani had the most lovely hair in the world, for it was like spun gold, and the smell of it was like the smell of fresh roses. But her locks were so long and thick that the weight of it was often unbearable, and one day she cut off a shining tress, and wrapping it in a large leaf, threw it in the river which ran just below her window. Now it happened that the king's son was out hunting, and had gone down to the river to drink, when there floated towards him a folded leaf, from which came a perfume of roses. The prince, with idle curiosity, took a step into the water and caught the leaf as it was sailing by. He opened it, and within he found a lock of hair like spun gold, and from which came a faint, exquisite odor. When the prince reached home that day he looked so sad and was so quiet that his father wondered if any ill had befallen him, and asked what was the matter. Then the youth took from his breast the tress of hair which he had found in the river, and holding it up to the light, replied, 'See, my father, was ever hair like this? Unless I may win and marry the maiden that owns that lock I must die!' So the king immediately sent heralds throughout all his dominions to search for the damsel with hair like spun gold; and at last he learned that she was the daughter of the scent-seller. The object of the herald's mission was quickly noised abroad, and Dorani heard of it with the rest; and, one day, she said to her father, 'If the hair is mine, and the king requires me to marry his son, I must do so; but, remember, you must tell him that if, after the wedding, I stay all day at the palace, every night will be spent in my old home.' The old man listened to her with amazement, but answered nothing, as he knew she was wiser than he. Of course the hair was Dorani's, and heralds soon returned and informed the king, their master, who summoned the scent-seller, and told him that he wished for his daughter to be given in marriage to the prince. The father bowed his head three times to the ground, and replied, 'Your highness is our lord, and all that you bid us we will do. The maiden asks this only -- that if, after the wedding, she stays all day at the palace, she may go back each night to her father's house.' The king thought this a very strange request; but said to himself it was, after all, his son's affair, and the girl would surely soon get tired of going to and fro. So he made no difficulty, and everything was speedily arranged and the wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings. At first, the condition attaching to his wedding with the lovely Dorani troubled the prince very little, for he thought that he would at least see his bride all day. But, to his dismay, he found that she would do nothing but sit the whole time upon a stool with her head bowed forward upon her knees, and he could never persuade her to say a single word. Each evening she was carried in a palanquin to her father's house, and each morning she vas brought back soon after daybreak; and yet never a sound passed her lips, nor did she show by any sign that she saw, or heard, or heeded her husband. One evening the prince, very unhappy and troubled, was wandering in an old and beautiful garden near the palace. The gardener was a very aged man, who had served the prince's great grandfather; and when he saw the prince he came and bowed himself to him, and said, 'Child! child! why do you look so sad? Is aught the matter?' Then the prince replied, 'I am sad, old friend, because I have married a wife as lovely as the stars, but she will not speak to me, and I know not what to do. Night after night she leaves me for her father's house, and day after day she sits in mine as though turned to stone, and utters no word, whatever I may do or say.' The old man stood thinking for a moment, and then he hobbled off to his own cottage. A little later he came back to the prince with five or six small packets, which he placed in his hands and said, 'Tomorrow, when your bride leaves the palace, sprinkle the powder from one of these packets upon your body, and while seeing clearly, you will become yourself invisible. More I cannot do for you, but may all go well!' And the prince thanked him, and put the packets carefully away in his turban. The next night, when Dorani left for her father's house in her palanquin, the prince took out a packet of the magic powder and sprinkled it over himself, and then hurried after her. He soon found that, as the old man had promised, he was invisible to everyone, although he felt as usual, and could see all that passed. He speedily overtook the palanquin and walked beside it to the scent-seller's dwelling. There it was set down, and, when his bride, closely veiled, left it and entered the house, he, too, entered unperceived. At the first door Dorani removed one veil; then she entered another doorway at the end of a passage where she removed another veil; next she mounted the stairs, and at the door of the women's quarters removed a third veil. After this she proceeded to her own room where were set two large basins, one of attar of roses and one of water; in these she washed herself, and afterwards called for food. A servant brought her a bowl of curds, which she ate hastily, and then arrayed herself in a robe of silver, and wound about her strings of pearls, while a wreath of roses crowned her hair. When fully dressed, she seated herself upon a four-legged stool over which was a canopy with silken curtains, these she drew around her, and then called out, 'Fly, stool, to the palace of rajah Indra.' Instantly the stool rose in the air, and the invisible prince, who had watched all these proceedings with great wonder, seized it by one leg as it flew away, and found himself being borne through the air at a rapid rate. In a short while they arrived at the house of the fairy who, as I told you before, was the favorite friend of Dorani. The fairy stood waiting on the threshold, as beautifully dressed as Dorani herself was, and when the stool stopped at her door she cried in astonishment, 'Why, the stool is flying all crooked today! What is the reason of that, I wonder? I suspect that you have been talking to your husband, and so it will not fly straight.' But Dorani declared that she had not spoken one word to him, and she couldn't think why the stool flew as if weighed down at one side. The fairy still looked doubtful, but made no answer, and took her seat beside Dorani, the prince again holding tightly one leg. Then the stool flew on through the air until it came to the palace of Indra the rajah. All through the night the women sang and danced before the rajah Indra, whilst a magic lute played of itself the most bewitching music; till the prince, who sat watching it all, was quite entranced. Just before dawn the rajah gave the signal to cease; and again the two women seated themselves on the stool, and, with the prince clinging to the leg, it flew back to earth, and bore Dorani and her husband safely to the scent-seller's shop. Here the prince hurried away by himself past Dorani's palanquin with its sleepy bearers, straight on to the palace; and, as he passed the threshold of his own rooms he became visible again. Then he lay down upon a couch and waited for Dorani's arrival. As soon as she arrived she took a seat and As soon as she arrived she took a seat and remained as silent as usual, with her head bowed on her knees. For a while not a sound was heard, but presently the prince said, 'I dreamed a curious dream last night, and as it was all about you I am going to tell it you, although you heed nothing.' The girl, indeed, took no notice of his words, but in spite of that he proceeded to relate every single thing that had happened the evening before, leaving out no detail of all that he had seen or heard. And when he praised her singing -- and his voice shook a little -- Dorani just looked at him; but she said naught, though, in her own mind, she was filled with wonder. 'What a dream!' she thought. 'Could it have been a dream? How could he have learnt in a dream all she had done or said?' Still she kept silent; only she looked that once at the prince, and then remained all day as before, with her head bowed upon her knees. When night came the prince again made himself invisible and followed her. The same things happened again as had happened before, but Dorani sang better than ever. In the morning the prince a second time told Dorani all that she had done, pretending that he had dreamt of it. Directly he had finished Dorani gazed at him, and said, 'Is it true that you dreamt this, or were you really there?' 'I was there,' answered the prince. 'But why do you follow me?' asked the girl. 'Because,' replied the prince, 'I love you, and to be with you is happiness.' This time Dorani's eyelids quivered; but she said no more, and was silent the rest of the day. However, in the evening, just as she was stepping into her palanquin, she said to the prince, 'If you love me, prove it by not following me tonight.' And so the prince did as she wished, and stayed at home. That evening the magic stool flew so unsteadily that they could hardly keep their seats, and at last the fairy exclaimed, 'There is only one reason that it should jerk like this! You have been talking to your husband!' And Dorani replied, 'Yes, I have spoken; oh, yes, I have spoken!' But no more would she say. That night Dorani sang so marvelously that at the end the rajah Indra rose up and vowed that she might ask what she would and he would give it to her. At first she was silent; but, when he pressed her, she answered, 'Give me the magic lute.' The rajah, when he heard this, was displeased with himself for having made so rash a promise, because this lute he valued above all his possessions. But as he had promised, so he must perform, and with an ill grace he handed it to her. 'You must never come here again,' said he, 'for, once having asked so much, how will you in future be content with smaller gifts?' Dorani bowed her head silently as she took the lute, and passed with the fairy out of the great gate, where the stool awaited them. More unsteadily than before, it flew back to earth. When Dorani got to the palace that morning she asked the prince whether he had dreamt again. He laughed with happiness, for this time she had spoken to him of her own free will; and he replied, 'No; but I begin to dream now -- not of what has happened in the past, but of what may happen in the future.' That day Dorani sat very quietly, but she answered the prince when he spoke to her; and when evening fell, and with it the time for her departure, she still sat on. Then the prince came close to her and said softly, 'Are you not going to your house, Dorani?' At that she rose and threw herself weeping into his arms, whispering gently, 'Never again, my lord, never again would I leave thee!' So the prince won his beautiful bride; and though they neither of them dealt any further with fairies and their magic, they learnt more daily of the magic of Love, which one may still learn, although fairy magic has fled away. Olive Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1907), pp. 188-97. (35%).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,"Hildur, the Queen of the Elves",Iceland,This account differs from most type 306 tales in that here the woman who makes the nocturnal trips to a magical realm is herself a supernatural being.,"Jón Árnason, Icelandic Legends, translated by George E. J. Powell and Eiríkur Magnússon (London: Richard Bentley, 1864), pp. 85-95.","Once, in a mountainous district, there lived a certain farmer, whose name and that of his farm have not been handed down to us; so we cannot tell them. He was unmarried, and had a housekeeper named Hildur, concerning whose family and descent he knew nothing whatever. She had all the indoor affairs of the farm under her charge, and managed them wondrous well. All the inmates of the house, the farmer himself to boot, were fond of her, as she was clean and thrifty in her habits, and kind and gentle in speech. Everything about the place flourished exceedingly, but the farmer always found the greatest difficulty in hiring a herdsman; a very important matter, as the well-being of the farm depended not a little on the care taken of the sheep. This difficulty did not arise from any fault of the farmer's own, or from neglect on the part of the housekeeper to the comforts of the servants, but from the fact, that no herdsman who entered his service lived more than a year, each one being without fail found dead in his bed, on the morning of Christmas Day. No wonder, therefore, the farmer found herdsmen scarce. In those times it was the custom of the country to spend the night of Christmas Eve at church, and this occasion for service was looked upon as a very solemn one. But so far was this farm from the church, that the herdsmen, who did not return from their flocks till late in the evening, were unable to go to it on that night until long after the usual time; and as for Hildur, she always remained behind to take care of the house, and always had so much to do in the way of cleaning the rooms and dealing out the rations for the servants, that the family used to come home from church and go to bed long before she had finished her work, and was able to go to bed herself. The more the reports of the death of herdsman after herdsman, on the night of Christmas Eve, were spread abroad, the greater became the difficulty the farmer found in hiring one, although it was never supposed for an instant that violence was used towards the men, as no mark had ever been found on their bodies; and as, moreover, there was no one to suspect. At length the farmer declared that his conscience would no longer let him thus hire men only in order that they might die, so he determined in future to let luck take care of his sheep, or the sheep take care of themselves. Not long after he had made this determination, a bold and hardy-looking man came to him and made him a proffer of his services. The farmer said, 'My good friend, I am not in so great need of your services as to hire you.' Then the man asked him, 'Have you, then, taken a herdsman for this winter?' The farmer said, 'No; for I suppose you know what a terrible fate has hitherto befallen every one I have hired.' 'I have heard of it,' said the other, 'but the fear of it shall neither trouble me nor prevent my keeping your sheep this winter for you, if you will but make up your mind to take me.' But the farmer would not hear of it at first. 'For,' said he, 'it is a pity, indeed, that so fine a fellow as you should lose your chance of life. Begone, if you are wise, and get work elsewhere.' Yet still the man declared, again and again, that he cared not a whit for the terrors of Christmas Eve, and still urged the farmer to hire him. At length the farmer consented, in answer to the man's urgent prayer, to take him as herdsman; and very well they agreed together. For everyone, both high and low, liked the man, as he was honest and open, zealous in everything he laid his hands to, and willing to do anyone a good turn, if need were. On Christmas Eve, towards nightfall, the farmer and all his family went (as has been before declared to be the custom) to church, except Hildur, who remained behind to look after household matters, and the herdsman, who could not leave his sheep in time. Late in the evening, the latter as usual returned home, and after having eaten his supper, went to bed. As soon as he was well between the sheets, the remembrance struck him of what had befallen fallen all the former herdsmen in his position on the same evening, and he thought it would be the best plan for him to he awake and thus to be ready for any accident, though he was mighty little troubled with fear. Quite late at night, he heard the farmer and his family return from church, enter the house, and having taken supper, go to bed. Still, nothing happened, except that whenever he closed his eyes for a moment, a strange and deadly faintness stole over him, which only acted as one reason the more for his doing his best to keep awake. Shortly after he had become aware of these feelings, he heard someone creep stealthily up to the side of his bed, and looking through the gloom at the figure, fancied he recognized Hildur the housekeeper. So he feigned to be fast asleep, and felt her place something in his mouth, which he knew instantly to be the bit of a magic bridle, but yet allowed her to fix it on him, without moving. When she had fastened the bridle, she dragged him from his bed with it, and out of the farmhouse, without his being either able or willing to make the least resistance. Then mounting on his back, she made him rise from the ground as if on wings, and rode him through the air, till they arrived at a huge and awful precipice, which yawned, like a great well, down into the earth. She dismounted at a large stone, and fastening the reins to it, leaped into the precipice. But the herdsman, objecting strongly to being tied to this stone all night, and thinking to himself that it would be no bad thing to know what became of the woman, tried to escape, bridle and all, from the stone. This he found, however, to be impossible, for as long as the bit was in his mouth, he was quite powerless to get away. So he managed, after a short struggle, to get the bridle off his head, and having so done, leapt into the precipice, down which he had seen Hildur disappear. After sinking for a long, long time, he caught a glimpse of Hildur beneath him, and at last they came to some beautiful green meadows. From all this, the man guessed that Hildur was by no means a common mortal, as she had before made believe to be, and feared if he were to follow her along these green fields, and she turn round and catch sight of him, he might, not unlikely, pay for his curiosity with his life. So he took a magic stone which he always carried about him, the nature of which was to make him invisible when he held it in his palm, and placing it in the hollow of his hand, ran after her with all his strength. When they had gone some way along the meadows, a splendid palace rose before them, with the way to which Hildur seemed perfectly well acquainted. At her approach a great crowd of people came forth from the doors, and saluted Hildur with respect and joy. Foremost of these walked a man of kingly and noble aspect, whose salutation seemed to be that of a lover or a husband. All the rest bowed to her as if she were their queen. This man was accompanied by two children, who ran up to Hildur, calling her mother, and embraced her. After the people had welcomed their queen, they all returned to the palace, where they dressed her in royal robes, and loaded her hands with costly rings and bracelets. The herdsman followed the crowd, and posted himself where he would be least in the way of the company, but where he could catch sight easily of all that passed, and lose nothing. So gorgeous and dazzling were the hangings of the hall, and the silver and golden vessels on the table, that he thought he had never, in all his life before, seen the like; not to mention the wonderful dishes and wines which seemed plentiful there, and which, only by the look of them, filled his mouth with water, while he would much rather have filled it with something else. After he had waited a little time, Hildur appeared in the hall, and all the assembled guests were begged to take their seats, while Hildur sat on her throne beside the king; after which all the people of the court ranged themselves on each side of the royal couple, and the feast commenced. When it was concluded, the various guests amused themselves, some by dancing, some by singing, others by drinking and revel; but the king and queen talked together, and seemed to the herdsman to be very sad. While they were thus conversing, three children, younger than those the man had seen before, ran in, and clung round the neck of their mother. Hildur received them with all a mother's love, and, as the youngest was restless, put it on the ground and gave it one of her rings to play with. After the little one had played a while with the ring he lost it, and it rolled along the floor towards the herdsman, who, being invisible, picked it up without being perceived, and put it carefully into his pocket. Of course all search for it by the guests was in vain. When the night was far advanced, Hildur made preparations for departure, at which all the people assembled showed great sorrow, and begged her to remain longer. The herdsman had observed, that in one corner of the hall sat an old and ugly woman, who had neither received the queen with joy nor pressed her to stay longer. As soon as the king perceived that Hildur addressed herself to her journey, and that neither his entreaties nor those of the assembly could induce her to stay, he went up to the old woman, and said to her. 'Mother, rid us now of thy curse; cause no longer my queen to live apart and afar from me. Surely her short and rare visits are more pain to me than joy.' The old woman answered him with a wrathful face. 'Never will I depart from what I have said. My words shall hold true in all their force, and on no condition will I abolish my curse.' On this the king turned from her, and going up to his wife, entreated her in the fondest and most loving terms not to depart from him. The queen answered, 'The infernal power of thy mother's curse forces me to go, and perchance this may be the last time that I shall see thee. For lying, as I do, under this horrible ban, it is not possible that my constant murders can remain much longer secret, and then I must suffer the full penalty of crimes which I have committed against my will.' While she was thus speaking the herdsman sped from the palace and across the fields to the precipice, up which he mounted as rapidly as he had come down, thanks to the magic stone. When he arrived at the rock he put the stone into his pocket, and the bridle over his head again, and awaited the coming of the elf queen. He had not long to wait, for very soon afterwards Hildur came up through the abyss, and mounted on his back, and off they flew again to the farmhouse, where Hildur, taking the bridle from his head, placed him again in his bed, and retired to her own. The herdsman, who by this time was well tired out, now considered it safe to go to sleep, which he did, so soundly as not to wake till quite late on Christmas morning. Early that same day the farmer rose, agitated and filled with the fear that, instead of passing Christmas in joy, he should assuredly, as he so often had before, find his herdsman dead, and pass it in sorrow and mourning. So he and all the rest of the family went to the bedside of the herdsman. When the farmer had looked at him and found him breathing, he praised God aloud for his mercy in preserving the man from death. Not long afterwards the man himself awoke and got up. Wondering at his strange preservation the farmer asked him how he had passed the night, and whether he had seen or heard anything. The man replied, 'No; but I have had a very curious dream.' 'What was it?' asked the farmer. Upon which the man related everything that had passed in the night, circumstance for circumstance, and word for word, as well as he could remember. When he had finished his story everyone was silent for wonder, except Hildur, who went up to him and said, 'I declare you to be a liar in all that you have said, unless you can prove it by sure evidence.' Not in the least abashed, the herdsman took from his pocket the ring which he had picked up on the floor of the hall in Elf-Land, and showing it to her said, 'Though my dream needs no proof, yet here is one you will not doubtless deem other than a sure one; for is not this your gold ring, Queen Hildur?' Hildur answered, 'It is, no doubt, my ring. Happy man! may you prosper in all you undertake, for you have released me from the awful yoke which my mother-in-law laid, in her wrath, upon me, and from the curse of a yearly murder.' And then Hildur told them the story of her life as follows: I was born of an obscure family among the elves. Our king fell in love with me and married me, in spite of the strong disapproval of his mother. She swore eternal hatred to me in her anger against her son, and said to him, 'Short shall be your joy with this fair wife of yours, for you shall see her but once a year, and that only at the expense of a murder. This is my curse upon her, and it shall be carried out to the letter. She shall go and serve in the upper world, this queen, and every Christmas Eve shall ride a man, one of her fellow servants, with this magic bridle, to the confines of Elf-Land, where she shall pass a few hours with you, and then ride him back again till his very heart breaks with toil, and his very life leaves him. Let her thus enjoy her queenship.' And this horrible fate was to cling to me. until I should either have these murders brought home to me, and be condemned to death, or should meet with a gallant man, like this herdsman, who should have nerve and courage to follow me down into Elf-Land, and be able to prove afterwards that he had been there with me, and seen the customs of my people. And now I must confess that all the former herdsmen were slain by me, but no penalty shall touch me for their murders, as I committed them against my will. And as for you, O courageous man, who have dared, the first of human beings, to explore the realms of Elf-Land, and have freed me from the yoke of this awful curse, I will reward you in times to come, but not now. A deep longing for my home and my loved ones impels me hence. Farewell! With these words Hildur vanished from the sight of the astonished people, and was never seen again. But our friend the herdsman, leaving the service of the farmer, built a farm for himself, and prospered, and became one of the chief men in the country, and always ascribed, with grateful thanks, his prosperity to Hildur, Queen of the Elves. Legends, translated by George E. J. Powell and Eiríkur Magnússon (London: Richard Bentley, 1864), pp. 85-95. who makes the nocturnal trips to a magical realm is herself a supernatural being. fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Invisible Shepherd Boy,Germany/Hungary,"According to Stier this tale was collected in Hungary from an informant with roots in Münster, Germany.","G. Stier, 'Der unsichtbare Schäferjunge,' Ungarische Sagen und Märchen: Aus der Erdélyischen Sammlung übersetzt (Berlin: Ferd. Dümmler's Buchhandlung, 1850), no. 7, pp. 51-56.","Where was it? Where was it not? Once upon a time there was a poor man who had a very pious son who was a shepherd. One day he was grazing his sheep in a very mountainous area when, like someone whose heart was about to break because of a great wish, he uttered a deep sigh toward heaven. Hearing a quiet sound he looked around and saw Saint Peter as a gray old man walking toward him. 'Why are you sighing so, my son?' he asked, 'and what is your wish?' 'My only wish,' he answered respectfully, 'is a bag that can never be filled and a pelt that would make me invisible when I wrap myself in it.' Peter granted these wishes, and then disappeared. The boy left his shepherd's things lying there and made his way to the capital city. Here he hoped to find his luck, for a king lived here who had twelve daughters, eleven of whom wore out at least six pairs of shoes every night. This angered their father because it was costing him a good part of his income, and furthermore some people were thinking ill of his daughters. But in spite of all his cunning he could not discover how they were doing this. Finally the king promised his youngest daughter to the man who could bring the mystery to the light of day. This promise lured a great many suitors to the capital city, but they were all ridiculed by the girls, and they had to withdraw in shame. The shepherd boy, trusting in his pelt, presented himself as well, and the girls, as usual, measured him with spiteful looks. Night came, and the boy, wrapped in his pelt, lay down before their bedroom door, then quickly slipped inside when they went to bed. At midnight a spirit entered and awoke each girl. There was a flurry of activity: they got dressed, made themselves beautiful, then stuffed a travel bag full of shoes. However, the youngest one did not see what was happening. Therefore the invisible shepherd boy, without being noticed, awoke her as well, which frightened the other sisters. However, because it had already happened, they thought it would be best to tempt her to join them. After some hesitation the girl agreed to do so. When everyone was ready the spirit placed a basin on the table. Each sister rubbed some of its contents onto her shoulders, and wings immediately grew from them. The shepherd boy did the same thing, and when they all flew out the window, he flew after them. After flying a few hours they came to a great copper forest and to a well with a copper railing on which were twelve copper cups. Here they refreshed themselves and drank. The youngest one, who was taking this journey for the first time, looked about fearfully. The boy drank as well, and as they were setting forth again, he put into his bag a cup and some leaves that he pulled from a tree,. The tree rustled noisily, sounding through the entire forest. The littlest girl noticed this and warned her sisters that someone was following them, but thinking they were safe, they only laughed at her. They flew onward, and before long they came to a silver forest and to a well with a silver railing. They drank here as before, and the boy again put a cup and a silver twig into his bag. At the sound of the twig being broken from the tree the smallest sister again warned her sisters, but to no avail. Leaving this forest they arrived at a golden forest, and a well with a golden railing and golden cups. They also stopped here, and the boy put a golden cup and a golden twig into his bag. Hearing the cracking sound, the smallest sister alerted the others, but again they did nothing. After leaving this forest they came to a huge mountain cliff, whose moss-covered summit reached steeply toward heaven. They stopped here, and the spirit struck the cliff with a golden wand, upon which it opened up, and they all went through the opening, the boy as well. They entered a marvelous room which opened into a hall that was decorated with fairy-like splendor. Twelve handsome fairy-youths approached them. Ever more servants appeared and busied themselves making all necessary preparations for a magnificent ball. Magical music sounded forth. The doors opened onto a huge dance hall, and everything was happy and gay. As morning approached they returned home just as they had come (and the shepherd boy was with them). They lay down on their beds as though nothing had happened, which their worn-out shoes disproved, then got up at the normal time. The king was waiting impatiently for any news that the shepherd boy might bring, and in only a few minutes he told him everything that had happened. The girls were summoned, and they denied everything. However, the cups and the twigs testified against them, and the littlest sister spoke against them as well, which was why the shepherd boy had awakened her. The king now fulfilled his promise, but the eleven girls were burned to death as sorceresses. Source: G. Stier, 'Der unsichtbare Schäferjunge,' Ungarische Sagen und Märchen: Aus der Erdélyischen Sammlung übersetzt (Berlin: Ferd. Dümmler's Buchhandlung, 1850), no. 7, pp. 51-56. informant with roots in Münster, Germany.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Midnight Dance,Russia,"The Russian collector's name is also transliterated as Alexander Nikolayevich Afanasyev. Link to an article on Alexander Nikolayevich Afanasyev from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.","Aleksandr Nikolaevich Afanas'ev, Russian Folk-Tales, translated by Leonard A. Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 106-108.","Once upon a time there was a king who was a widower. He had twelve daughters: each was fairer than the others. Every night these princesses went where nobody knew. It was only for twenty-four hours, and they always wore out a new pair of shoes. Now the king had no shoes ready for them, and he wanted to know where they went at night and what they did. So he made a feast ready, and he summoned all the kings and korolévichi, all the boyárs, and the merchants and the simple folk, to it, and he asked them, 'Can any of you guess this riddle? Whoever guesses it I will give him my beloved daughter as a wife and a half of my kingdom as a dowry.' No one was able to find out where the princesses went at night. Only one poor nobleman cried out, 'Your kingly majesty, I will find out!' 'Very well; go and find out.' So then the poor nobleman began pondering and saying to himself, 'What have I done? I have undertaken to find out, and I don't know myself. If I don't find out now, possibly the king will put me under arrest.' So he went out of the palace beyond the city, and went on and on, and at last he met an old woman on the road who asked him, 'What are you thinking of, doughty youth?' And he answered, 'How should I, Babushka, not become thoughtful? I have undertaken to discover for the king where his daughters go by night.' 'Oh, this is a difficult task, but it can be done. Here, I will give you the cap of invisibility; with that you cannot be seen. Now, remember, when you go to sleep the princesses will pour a sleeping draught out for you. You turn to the wall and pour it into the bed and do not drink it.' So the poor nobleman thanked the old woman and returned to the palace. Nighttime approached and they gave him a room next to that in which the princesses slept. So he lay on the bed and began to keep watch. Then one of the princesses brought sleeping drugs in wine and asked him to drink her health. He could not refuse, and so he took the goblet, turned to the wall, and poured it into the bed. At midnight the princesses went to look whether he was asleep or not. Then the poor nobleman pretended to be as sound asleep as a log, and himself kept a keen look out for every noise. 'Now, sisters, our watchman has gone to sleep. It is time we set out on our promenade. It is time.' So they all put on their best clothes, and the elder sister went to her bedside, moved the bed, and an entrance into the subterranean realm instantly opened up beneath, leading to the home of the Accursèd Tsar. They all went down a flight of stairs, and the poor nobleman quietly got off his bed, put on the cap of invisibility, and followed them. He, without noticing, touched the youngest princess's dress. She was frightened and said to her sisters, 'O my sisters, somebody has stepped on my dress. This is a foretokening of woe.' 'Nonsense; it does not mean anything of the sort!' So they all went down the flight of steps into a grove, and in that grove there were golden flowers. Then the poor nobleman broke off and plucked a single sprig, and the entire grove rustled. 'Oh, sisters,' said the youngest sister, 'some unfortunate thing is injuring us. Did you hear how the grove rustled?' 'Do not fear; this is the music in the Accursèd Tsar's realm.' So they went into the tsar's palace. He, with his lackeys, met them; music sounded; and they began dancing. And they danced until their shoes were worn thin. Then the Tsar bade wine to be served to his guests. The poor nobleman took a single goblet from under his nose, poured out the wine, and put the cup into his pocket. At last the rout was over, and the princesses bade farewell to their cavaliers, promised to come another night, turned back home, undressed and lay down to sleep. Then the king summoned the poor nobleman, and asked him, 'Did you keep watch on my daughters?' 'Yes, I did, your majesty.' 'Where did they go?' 'Into the subterranean realm, to the Accursèd Tsar, where they danced all night long.' So the king summoned his daughters, and began cross examining them. 'Where do you go at night?' So the princesses tried a feint: 'We have not been anywhere.' 'Were you not with the Accursèd Tsar? There is this poor nobleman who can turn evidence on you. He is able to convict you.' 'What do you mean, bátyushka? He can convict us when all night he slept the sleep of the dead?' Then the poor nobleman brought the golden flower out of his pocket, and the goblet, and said, 'There is the testimony.' What could they do? The princesses had to acknowledge their guilt, and the king bade the entrance to the subterranean realm be slated up. And he married the poor nobleman to the youngest daughter, and they lived happily ever after. Folk-Tales, translated by Leonard A. Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 106-108. Nikolayevich Afanasyev. Afanasyev from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Princess with the Twelve Pair of Golden Shoes,Denmark,"Stroebe's source: Svend Grundtvig, 'Prindsessen med de tolv Par Guldsko,' Danske Folkeminder, Viser, Sagn og Æventyr m.m., levende i Folkemunde (Copenhagen: C. G. Iversens Forlagshandel, 1861), no. 3, pp. 11-15. This story is from the Danish island of Bornholm.","Clara Stroebe, ed. The Danish Fairy Book, translated [from the German] by Frederick H. Martens (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1922), no. 15, pp. 135-42.","There was once a young man who had wandered out into the world to seek his fortune. As he went his way he met an old man who asked him for alms. The lad told him that he had no money; but that he would gladly share with him what food he had, and this the old man gratefully accepted. They seated themselves beneath a tree, and the young man divided the food into two equal parts. When they had eaten he rose to go on his way; but the old man said: 'You shared what you had with me, and in return I will give you this stick and this ball, for they will make your fortune. If you raise the stick in the air in front of you, you will become invisible; and if you strike the ball with the stick, it will roll in front of you, and show you the road you should take.' The young man thanked him for his gifts, cast the ball to the ground and struck it with the stick. The ball rolled swiftly in advance of him, and kept on rolling, until they came to a large city. Here he saw that the chopped-off heads of human beings had been planted all around the city walls. He asked the first person whom he met why this was, and learned that the whole country grieved because of the princess, who wore out twelve pair of golden shoes every night without anyone knowing how she did so. The old king was weary of it, and had vowed whoever could solve the mystery should receive the princess and half the kingdom beside; but whoever tried and could not solve it would have to lose his life. Now many princes and great lords had come and made the attempt, because the princess was surpassingly lovely; but all of them had had to yield their lives, and the old king was in deep sorrow because of it. When the young man heard of this he had a great mind to undertake the adventure. He at once went to the castle and said he would make the attempt the following night. When the old king saw him, he felt sorry for him, and he advised him to give up the undertaking, since he was certain to have no better luck than his predecessors. But he held to his resolve, and the king said that he should sleep for three nights in the princess' room, and see whether he could discover anything; and if he had not discovered anything by the third day, he would have to take his way to the scaffold. The young man was satisfied to have it so, and in the evening he was led into the princess's room, where a bed had been prepared for him. He leaned his stick against the bed, hung his knapsack on it, and lay down resolved not to close an eye the whole night. He stayed awake for a long time and did not notice anything; but suddenly he fell asleep, and when he woke up it was bright daylight. Then he was very angry with himself, and resolved firmly that he would keep a better watch the following night. But the next night passed just as the first had, and now the young man had but a single night left. When he lay down the third night, he pretended to fall asleep at once; and before long he heard a voice asking the princess whether he were sleeping. The princess answered, ''Yes,' and thereupon a maiden clad in white came to his bed and said: ''I will test him, at any rate, to see whether he is really asleep,' and she took a golden needle and thrust it into his heel. But he did not move, and she went away and left the needle behind her. Then he saw her, together with the princess, move aside the latter's bed, so that a flight of stairs came to view, and they went down the flight of stairs. He rose quickly, took the needle and put it in his knapsack on his back, and held his stick before him so that he was invisible. Then he followed them down the stairs, and they went on until they reached a forest that was all of silver -- trees, flowers and grass. When they came to the end of the silver forest, he broke a branch from a tree, and put it in his knapsack. The princess heard the trees rustle and turned around; but she could see no one. 'Oh, that is only the wind!' said the maiden with her. Then they came to another forest, where all was of gold -- trees, flowers and grass; and when they reached the end of the golden forest, he broke a branch and put it in his knapsack. The princess turned around, and said it seemed as though some one were behind them; but the girl replied again that it was only the wind. Then they came to a forest whose trees, flowers and grass were all of diamond, and when they reached the end of the diamond forest, he broke a branch from a tree and put it in his knapsack. Finally they reached a lake, and there lay a little boat, and the princess and the girl got in. But as they were about to push off, he leaped into the boat, and it rocked so strongly that the princess grew afraid, and cried out that now surely some one was behind them. But the girl replied it was only the wind. They crossed to the opposite shore, and there lay a great castle. An ugly troll came up, received the princess, led her in and asked her why she was so late. Then she told him she had suffered a great fright, and that someone had followed them, though she had seen no one. Then they seated themselves at the table, and the young man stood behind the princess's chair. When she had eaten he took away her golden plate, her golden knife and her golden fork, and put them all in his knapsack. The troll and the princess could not imagine what had become of them; but the troll wasted no more thought on them, for now he wanted to dance. So they began to dance, and the princess danced twelve times with the troll, and each time she danced with him she completely wore out a pair of golden shoes. But when she had danced the last dance and thrown the shoes in the corner, the young man picked them up, and put them in his knapsack. When the dancing was over the troll led her back to the boat, and the young man crossed with them, and was the first to jump ashore and run home swiftly, so that he got there before they did, and could lie down in bed and pretend to be asleep when the princess arrived. In the morning the old king came, and asked whether he had discovered anything; but he said he had fallen asleep, as he had the two nights preceding, and had not noticed anything. This made the old king very sad; but the princess was all the happier, and wished to see him beheaded herself. So the young man was led to the scaffold, and the king and the princess and the whole court went along. And as he stood on the scaffold, he begged permission of the king to tell him a wonderful dream he had dreamt during the night just passed, and the king granted his request. So he told how he had dreamed that a girl clad in white had come to the princess and asked her whether he was asleep; and in order to make certain, the girl in white had thrust a golden needle into his heel. 'And I think this is the very needle,' he said and drew it forth from his knapsack. 'And then I dreamed that they pushed the princess's bed aside, and went down a flight of steps, hidden beneath the bed, and I went after them; and then I dreamed that we came to a forest where the trees, flowers and grass were all of silver, and I broke a branch from one of the trees. Here it is. Then we came to a forest where the trees, flowers and grass were of gold, and I broke a branch from one of those trees. Here it is. Then I dreamed we came to a forest where the trees, flowers and grass were of diamond, and I broke a branch from one of those trees. Here it is. Then I dreamed that we went on and came to a lake, where lay a boat, and the princess and the girl got into the boat. But when I leaped in the princess was frightened, and said that there was some one behind her, though she could not see me. We crossed the lake to a great castle, and there an ugly troll received the princess and led her into the castle, and sat down to dine with, her; and I dreamed that I stood behind her chair, and that after she had eaten, I took her plate, her knife and her fork and put them in my knapsack. Here they are. And then I dreamed that the troll asked the princess to dance with him, and that she danced twelve times, and each time she danced she wore out a pair of golden shoes. But when she had danced the last dance, and flung the shoes aside, I picked them up, put them in my knapsack, and here they are. Then I dreamed the princess came home again; but I reached the castle before she did, and lay down in bed before she arrived.' When the old king had heard all this his happiness was beyond bounds; but the princess was half dead with fright, and could not imagine how it had all happened. The king now wished the young man to marry the princess; but he decided to pay the troll a visit first, and asked the princess to lend him her golden thimble. She gave it to him, and the young man descended the stairs, passed through the silver forest, the golden forest and the diamond forest by the lake, and rowed across to the troll's castle. When he found the troll he thrust him through the heart with the golden needle that he had drawn from his heel, and held the princess's thimble beneath it. Three drops of blood fell into it, and the troll died. Then he rowed back, and when he came to the diamond forest, he let one drop of blood fall to the ground, and at once all the trees, flowers and grasses turned into as many men, women and children, who were so happy to be released from their enchantment they begged him to be their king, for they were a whole nation. They followed him to the golden forest, and there he let another drop of blood fall to the ground; and there, too, all the trees, flowers and grasses turned into human beings, enough to people a kingdom. They went with him to the silver forest, and here he let the third drop of blood fall to the ground and all the trees, flowers and grasses likewise became human beings, praised him as their deliverer, and wished to make him their king. They went with him to the old king and told him of their deliverance, and he and the princess were also happy, now that she, too, had been released from her enchantment. Then the wedding was celebrated with great splendor, and he became king over all three kingdoms.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Seven Iron Slippers,Portugal,"The episode depicting the fight over the magic cap and the magic boots is classified as a type 518 folktale, titled generically 'Men Fight over Magic Objects.'","Consiglieri Pedroso, Portuguese Folk-Tales (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by E. Stock, 1882), pp. 85-90.","There lived once together a king and a queen, and a princess who was their daughter. The princess had worn out every evening seven pairs of slippers made of iron; and the king could not make out how that could be, though he was always trying to find out. The king at last issued a decree, that whosoever should be able to find out how the princess managed to wear out seven slippers made of iron in the short space of time between morning and evening, he would give the princess in marriage if he were a man, and if a woman he would marry her to a prince. It happened that a soldier was walking along an open country road carrying on his back a sack of oranges, and he saw two men fighting and giving each other great blows. The soldier went up to them and asked them, 'Oh, men, why are you giving each other such blows?' 'Why indeed should it be!' they replied. 'Because our father is dead, and he has left us this cap, and we both wish to possess it.' 'Is it possible that for the sake of a cap you should be fighting?' inquired the soldier. The men then said, 'The reason is that this cap has a charm, and if any one puts it on and says, 'Cap, cover me so that no one shall see me!' no one can see us.' The soldier upon hearing this said to them, 'I'll tell you what I can do for you; you let me remain here with the cap whilst I throw this orange to a great distance, and you run after it, and the one that shall pick it up first shall be the possessor of the cap.' The men agreed to this, and the soldier threw the orange to a great distance, as far as he possibly could, whilst the men both ran to pick it up. Here the soldier without loss of time put on the cap saying, 'Cap, make me invisible.' When the men returned with the orange they could see nothing and nobody. The soldier went away with the cap, and further on he met on his road two other men fighting, and he said to them, 'Oh, foolish men, why do you give The men replied, 'Indeed, you may well ask why, if it were not that father died and left us this pair of boots, and we, each of us, wish to be the sole possessor of them.' The soldier replied, 'Is it possible that for the matter of a pair of boots you should be fighting thus?' And they replying said, 'It is because these boots are charmed, and when one wishes to go any distance he has only to say, 'Boots take me here or there,' wherever one should wish to go, and instantly they convey one to any place.' The soldier said to them, 'I will tell you what to do; I will throw an orange to a great distance, and you give me the boots to keep; you run for the orange, and the first who shall pick it up shall have the pair of boots.' He threw the orange to a great distance and both men ran to catch it. Upon this the soldier said, 'Cap, make me invisible, boots take me to the city!' and when the men returned they missed the boots, and the soldier, for he had gone away. He arrived at the capital and heard the decree read which the king had promulgated, and he began to consider what he had better do in this case. 'With this cap, and with these boots I can surely find out what the princess does to wear out seven pairs of slippers made of iron in one night.' He went and presented himself at the palace. When the king saw him he said, 'Do you really know a way of finding out how the princess, my daughter, can wear out seven slippers in one night?' The soldier replied, 'I only ask you to let me try.' 'But you must remember,' said the king, 'that if at the end of three days you have not found out the mystery, I shall order you to be put to death.' The soldier to this replied that he was prepared to take the consequences. The king ordered him to remain in the palace. Every attention was paid to all his wants and wishes, he had his meals with the king at the same table, and slept in the princess's room. But what did the princess do? She took him a beverage to his bedside and gave it to him to drink. This beverage was a sleeping draught which she gave him to make him sleep all night. Next morning the soldier had not seen the princess do anything, for he had slept very soundly the whole night. When he appeared at breakfast the king asked him, 'Well, did you see anything?' 'Your majesty must know that I have seen nothing whatever.' The king said, 'Look well what you are at, for now there only remains two days more for you, or else you die!' The soldier replied, 'I have not the least misgivings.' Night came on and the princess acted as before. Next morning the king asked him again at breakfast, 'Well, have you seen anything last night?' The soldier replied, 'Your majesty must know that I have seen nothing whatever.' 'Be careful, then, what you do, only one day more and you die!' The soldier replied, 'I have no misgivings.' He then began to think it over. 'It is very curious that I should sleep all night -- it cannot be from anything else but from drinking the beverage which the princess gives me. Leave me alone, I know what I shall do; when the princess brings me the cup I shall pretend to drink, but shall throw away the beverage.' The night came and the princess did not fail to bring him the beverage to drink to his bedside. The soldier made a pretence to drink it, but instead threw it away, and feigned sleep though he was awake. In the middle of the night he saw the princess rise up, prepare to go out, and advance towards the door to leave. What did he do then? He put on the cap, drew on the boots, and said, 'Cap make me invisible, boots take me wherever the princess goes.' The princess entered a carriage, and the soldier followed her into the carriage and accompanied her. He saw the carriage stop at the seashore. The princess then embarked on board a vessel decked with flags. The soldier on seeing this said, 'Cap, cover me, that I may be invisible,' and embarked with the princess. She reached the land of giants, and when on passing the first sentinel, he challenged her with 'Who's there?' 'The Princess of Harmony,' she replied. The sentinel rejoined, 'Pass with your suite.' The princess looked behind her, and not seeing any one following her she said to herself, 'The sentinel cannot be in his sound mind; he said 'pass with your suite.' I do not see any one.' She reached the second sentinel, who cried out at the top of his voice, 'Who's there?' 'The Princess of Harmony,' replied the princess. 'Pass with your suite,' said the sentinel. The princess was each time more and more astonished. She came to the third sentinel, who challenged her as the others had done, 'The Princess of Harmony.' 'Pass on with your suite,' rejoined the sentinel. The princess as before wondered what the man could mean. After journeying for a long time the soldier who followed her closely saw the princess arrive at a beautiful palace, enter in, and go into a hall for dancing, where he saw many giants. The princess sat upon a seat by the side of her lover who was a giant. The soldier hid himself under their seat. The band struck up, and she rose to dance with the giant, and when she finished the dance she had her iron slippers all in pieces. She took them off and pushed them under her seat. The soldier immediately took possession of them and put them inside his sack. The princess again sat down to converse with her lover. The band again struck up some dance music and the princess rose to dance. When she finished this dance another of her slippers had worn out. She took them off and left them under her seat. The soldier put these also into his sack. Finally, she danced seven times, and each time she danced she tore a pair of slippers made of iron. The soldier kept them all in his sack. After the ball the princess sat down to converse with her lover; and what did the soldier do? He turned their chairs over and threw them both on the middle of the floor. They were very much surprised and they searched everywhere and through all the houses and could find no one. The giants then looked out for a book of fates they had, wherein could be seen the course of the winds and other auguries peculiar to their race. They called in a black servant to read in the book and find out what was the matter. The soldier rose up from where he was and said, 'Cap, make me invisible.' He then gave the negro a slap on the face, the negro fell to the ground, while he took possession of the book and kept it. The time was approaching when the princess must depart and return home, and not being able to stay longer she went away. The soldier followed her and she returned by the same way she came. She went on board and when she reached the city the carriage was already waiting for her. The soldier then said, 'Boots take me to the palace,' and he arrived there, took off his clothes, and went to bed. When the princess arrived she found everything in her chamber just as she left it, and even found the soldier fast asleep. In the morning the king said, 'Well, soldier, did you see anything remarkable last night?' 'Be it known to your majesty that I saw nothing whatever last night,' replied the soldier. The king then said, 'According to what you say, I do not know if you are aware that you must die today.' The soldier replied, 'If it is so I must have patience, what else can I do?' When the princess heard this she rejoiced much. The king then ordered that everything for the execution should be prepared before the palace windows. When the soldier was proceeding to execution he asked the king to grant him a favor for the last time and to send for the princess so that she should be present. The king gave the desired permission, and the princess was present, when he said to her, 'Is it true to say that the princess went out at midnight?' 'It is not true,' replied the princess. 'Is it true to say,' again asked the soldier, 'that the princess entered a carriage, and afterwards went on board a vessel and proceeded to a ball given in the kingdom of the giants?' The princess replied, 'It is not true.' The soldier yet asked her another question, 'Is it true that the princess tore seven pair of slippers during the seven times she danced?' and then he showed her the slippers. 'There is no truth in all this,' replied the princess. The soldier at last said to her, 'Is it true to say that the princess at the end of the ball fell on the floor from her seat, and the giants had a book brought to them to see what bewitchery and magic pervaded and had taken possession of the house, and which book is here?' The princess now said, 'It is so.' The king was delighted at the discovery and happy ending of this affair, and the soldier came to live in the palace and married the princess. Folk-Tales (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by E. Stock, 1882), pp. 85-90. is classified as a type 518 folktale, titled generically 'Men Fight over Magic Objects.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces (Grimm),"Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm","The Grimms' source: Jenny von Droste-Hülshoff. This is the first edition of the Grimms' famous collection (two volumes, 1812/1815), best known in the English-speaking world as Grimms' Fairy Tales. In succeeding editions this tale was assigned number 133. This particular tale underwent but few changes (mostly stylistic) between the first and following editions. Link to the German text of the first edition: Die zertanzten Schuhe (1815). Link to the German text of the final edition: Die zertanzten Schuhe (1857). Link to an English translation of the final edition: The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces (1857). Convention varies on translating the German title into English: 'The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces' (Margaret Hunt,1884). 'The Worn-Out Dancing Slippers' (Francis P. Magoun and Alexander H. Krappe, 1960). 'The Shoes That Were Danced Through' (Ralph Manheim, 1977). 'The Worn-Out Dancing Shoes' (Jack Zipes, 1987). 'The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces' (Margaret Hunt,1884). 'The Worn-Out Dancing Slippers' (Francis P. Magoun and Alexander H. Krappe, 1960). 'The Shoes That Were Danced Through' (Ralph Manheim, 1977). 'The Worn-Out Dancing Shoes' (Jack Zipes, 1987).","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die zertanzten Schuhe,' Kinder- und Haus-M�rchen, vol. 2 (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1815), no. 47, pp. 239-45.","A prince soon presented himself. He was well received, and escorted to the anteroom to the twelve daughters' bedroom. He was given a bed there, and told to watch where they went and danced. So they would not be able to do anything in secret, or go out to some other place, the door to their room was left open. But the prince fell asleep, and when he awoke the next morning, the twelve had been dancing, for their shoes all had holes in their soles. The same thing happened the second and the third evening, and his head was chopped off. Many others came to try this risky venture, but they too all lost their lives. Now it happened that a poor soldier, who because of his wounds could no longer serve in the army, was making his way to the city where the king lived. He met an old woman who asked him where he was going. 'I'm not sure myself,' he said. 'But I would like to become king and discover where the princesses are dancing their shoes to pieces.' 'Oh,' said the old woman, 'that isn't so difficult. Just do not drink the wine that one of them will bring you in the evening.' Then she gave him a cloak and said, 'Put this on, and you will be invisible, and you can follow the twelve.' Having receiving this good advice, the soldier became serious, took heart, went to the king, and announced himself as a suitor. He, like the others, was well received, and was given royal clothes to wear. That evening at bedtime he was escorted to the anteroom. Just as he was going to bed, the oldest princess brought him a goblet of wine, but he secretly poured it out. He lay down, and after a little while began to snore as if he were in the deepest sleep. The twelve princesses heard him and laughed. The oldest one said, 'He could have spared his life as well!' Then they got up, opened their wardrobes, chests, and closets, took out their best clothes, and made themselves beautiful in front of their mirrors, all the time jumping about in anticipation of the dance. However, the youngest one said, 'I'm not sure. You are all very happy, but I'm afraid that something bad is going to happen!' 'You snow goose,' said the oldest one. 'You are always afraid! Have you forgotten how many princes have been here for nothing. I wouldn't even have had to give this soldier a sleeping potion. He would never have woken up.' When they were ready, they first approached the soldier, but he did not move at all, and as soon as they thought it was safe, the oldest one went to her bed and knocked on it. It immediately sank beneath the floor, revealing a trapdoor. The soldier saw how they all climbed down, one after the other, the oldest one leading the way. He jumped up, put on the cloak, and followed immediately after the youngest one. Halfway down the stairs he stepped on her dress. Frightened, she called out, 'It's not right! Something is holding my dress.' 'Don't be so simple,' said the oldest one. 'You just caught yourself on a hook.' They continued until they came to a magnificent walkway between rows of trees. Their leaves were all made of silver, and they shone and glistened. The soldier broke off a twig in order to prove where he had been, and a loud cracking sound came from the tree. The youngest one called out again, 'It's not right. Didn't you hear that sound? That has never happened before.' The oldest one said, 'That is just a joyful salute that they are firing because soon we will have disenchanted our princes.' Then they came to a walkway where the tress were all made of gold, and finally to a third one, where they were made of clear diamonds. He broke a twig from each of these. The cracking sound frightened the youngest one each time, but the oldest one insisted that it was only the sounds of joyful salutes. They continued on until they came to a large body of water. Twelve boats were there, and in each boat there was a handsome prince waiting for them. Each prince took a princess into his boat. The soldier sat next to the youngest princess, and her prince said, 'I am as strong as ever, but the boat seems to be much heavier. I am rowing as hard as I can.' 'It must be the warm weather,' said the youngest princess. 'It's too hot for me as well.' On the other side of the water there was a beautiful, brightly illuminated castle. Joyful music, kettle drums, and trumpets sounded forth. They rowed over and went inside. Each prince danced with his princess. The invisible soldier danced along as well, and when a princess held up a goblet of wine, he drank it empty as she lifted it to her mouth. This always frightened the youngest one, but the oldest one silenced her every time. They danced there until three o'clock the next morning when their shoes were danced to pieces and they had to stop. The princes rowed them back across the water. This time the soldier took a seat next to the oldest princess in the lead boat. They took leave from their princes on the bank and promised to come back the next night. When they were on the steps the soldier ran ahead and got into bed. When the twelve tired princesses came in slowly, he was again snoring loudly. 'He will be no risk to us,' they said. Then they took off their beautiful clothes and put them away, placed their worn out shoes under their beds, and went to bed. The next morning the soldier said nothing, for he wanted to see the amazing thing once again. He went along the second and third nights, and everything happened as before. Each time they danced until their shoes were in pieces. The third time he also took along a goblet as a piece of evidence. The hour came when he was to give his answer, and he brought the three twigs and the goblet before the king. The twelve princesses stood behind the door and listened to what he had to say. The king asked, 'Where did my daughters dance their shoes to pieces?' He answered, 'in an underground castle with twelve princes.' Then he told the whole story and brought forth the pieces of evidence. When they saw that they had been betrayed, and that their denials did no good, they admitted everything. Then the king asked him which one he wanted for a wife. He answered, 'I myself am no longer young, so give me the oldest one.' Their wedding was held the same day, and the kingdom was promised to him following the king's death. But the princes had as many days added to their curse as they had spent nights dancing with the twelve princesses.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces (Schambach),Germany,NA,"Georg Schambach and Wilhelm Müller, 'Die zertanzten Schuhe,' Niedersächsische Sagen und Märchen: Aus dem Munde des Volkes gesammelt (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht's Verlag, 1855), pp. 283-85.","A peasant got news of this and became so engrossed with the thoughts of how he himself might thus win a princess that with time he fell into deep despair. One day while sadly walking along he met a dwarf who asked him why he was so gloomy. At first the peasant did not want to answer, saying that the dwarf would not be able to help him. The dwarf replied, 'You cannot know that. Just tell me.' So the peasant told him what the king had proclaimed, and how had become discouraged, not knowing how he could discover the secret. To this the dwarf told the peasant to go to a certain meadow just outside the city, describing exactly where it was. There he would find a washhouse, inside of which there was a bed. The peasant should lie down on this bed and pretend to be sound asleep. He should also place a brandy bottle next to him, to make it appear that he was drunk. However, on no account was he to drink anything, but instead was to pay close attention to whatever the princesses did and to follow their every move. The peasant went to the house and did exactly what he had been told to do. That night at eleven o'clock the princesses arrived. They shook him soundly to find out if he was asleep. When he neither stirred nor moved they opened a trapdoor that he had not seen before and climbed down through it. The peasant quickly jumped up and followed after them. As soon as he went through the trapdoor he became invisible, so the princesses, who were walking ahead of him, could not see him. They soon entered a beautiful tree-lined walkway. Then they came to a pear tree loaded with pears of pure gold. The peasant plucked one of them, immediately causing a loud cracking sound. The princesses heard this and were afraid that the peasant in the bed was following them. But seeing no one, they continued on their way. They came to a broad river. A rowboat was on the bank, which the six princesses climbed into, and the peasant as well. On the other side of the river there stood a magnificent castle. They went inside, then entered a large hall with a floor made of golden flax-comb teeth. In the hall six enchanted princes were awaiting the princesses, and they immediately began to dance with them. While they were dancing the peasant broke loose one of the golden flax-comb teeth, again causing a loud cracking sound. The princesses were once again afraid, but seeing no one, they put themselves at ease. After dancing away the hour between eleven and twelve, they hurriedly departed, climbed into the rowboat, and crossed the river. The peasant was with them in the boat, and then he rushed on ahead, lay down on the bed, and pretended to be asleep. Arriving at their castle, the princesses too went to bed and fell asleep. The next day the peasant went to the king, saying that he wanted to reveal where his daughters were going every night, and he told him everything. The king had his daughters come before him one at a time and asked each one, beginning with the oldest, if what the peasant said was true. The five oldest stubbornly denied everything, whereupon the king had each of their heads cut off, one after the other. Only the youngest daughter said that she would confess everything. For five years now they had been dancing with the enchanted princes every night. If they had finished dancing the sixth year with them, they would have been redeemed. They could also be redeemed by allowing their heads to be cut off, like the five sisters. The peasant received the youngest princess for his wife.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Slippers of the Twelve Princesses,Romania,Note the strong similarity between this story and the preceding tale 'The Twelve Dancing Princesses.' The sections are misnumbered in the original. Numbers V and VIII are missing.,"[E. B. Mawer], Roumanian Fairy tales and Legends (London: H. K. Lewis, 1881), pp. 1-20.","Once on a time, in the good old times, there lived a cow-herd, who had neither father nor mother. He was called Jonica, that is to say Johnnie, but people had given him the name of Gura Casca (open mouth) because when he led his cows to pasture, he bellowed at every thing which he met on the way. Otherwise he was really a very pretty boy, his face was fair, and his, eyes as blue as a morsel of the sky, with hair curling, and as yellow as the rays of the sun. The young girls of the village teased him sadly. 'Hé! Hé! Jonica, where are you going with your open mouth?' 'What does that matter to you?' he would reply tranquilly, and pass on his way. Though only a cow-herd, he was sufficiently proud of his good looks, and he knew quite well the difference between beauty and ugliness, so the young peasant girls with their faces and throats tanned by the sun, their large hands red and cracked, their feet shod in 'opinci' (a rough sort of sandal) or other common leather, were not at all to his mind. He had heard tell, that, down there, a long way off, in the towns, the young girls were quite different; that they had throats as white as alabaster, pink cheeks, delicate and soft hands, their small feet covered by satin slippers, that in short they were clad in robes of silk and gold, and were called princesses. So that, while his comrades only sought to please some rustic villager, he dreamed, neither more nor less, that he should marry a princess One noon-day in the middle of August, when the sun was so scorching that even the flies did not know where to put themselves, Jonica sat down under the shadow of an oak to eat his mammaliga (thick Indian meal porridge) and a morsel of sheep's milk cheese; seeing that his flock was lying peaceably about, he stretched himself at full length, and was soon asleep. He had a charming dream! A zina, a fairy, appeared to him, beautiful as the day, fresh as a rose, and clad in a robe sparkling with diamonds. She said to him, 'There is a country where precious stones grow; go to the court of the emperor who reigns there, and you will marry a princess.' In the evening, when he took his cows back to the stable, Jonica recounted his dream to several of his friends, who freely laughed at him. But the words of the zina had such an influence on him, that he laughed himself at the ridicule of which he was the object. The next day, at the same hour, and the same place, our cow-herd came to take his siesta. He had the same dream; and the same fairy, more radiant than ever, appeared again to him, and repeated, 'There is a country where precious stones grow; go to the court of the emperor who reigns there and you will marry a princess.' Jonica again repeated his dream, and it was again turned into ridicule. 'What does it matter to me,' said Jonica, 'if they laugh? I know one thing, that if that fairy appears again to me, I'll follow her advice.' On the following day he had the same dream, he got up joyfully, and in the evening they heard him in the village singing, 'I quit the cows and calves, or I am going to marry the daughter of an emperor.' His master, who overheard him, became thoughtful, but Jonica said to him, 'You may do, and think as you like, but it is decided! I am going away!' He began to make his preparations, and in the morning he left. The people of the village held their sides with laughing, when they saw him with his little bundle on a stick, slung across his shoulder, descend the hill, traverse the plain, and then slowly disappear, in the dim distance. In those days, people did say that there was really a country where precious stones grew, as grass, plants, and flowers grow in other places. It was said that the emperor of these parts had twelve daughters: twelve princesses, the one prettier than the other, but all as proud as they were beautiful. It was said also, that they only went to sleep at sunrise, and got up at midday. They lived altogether in one large room of the palace, and slept in beds of gold, encrusted with flowers of diamonds and emeralds. When the princesses retired in the evening, the nine doors of their apartment were locked outside with nine padlocks. It was impossible for them to get out, and yet each night something very extraordinary took place. The satin slippers of the twelve princesses, were literally worn out each morning. One might have thought that the daughters of the emperor had danced all night. When they were questioned, they declared that they knew nothing, and could understand nothing about it. No one could explain this strange fact, for, notwithstanding the greatest watchfulness, not the least noise had ever been heard in the chamber of the princesses, after they had retired to rest. The emperor, their father, was most perplexed, and determined, at any price, to penetrate this mystery. He had a trumpet sounded, and it was published throughout all the country, that if any one succeeded in finding out, by what means his daughters, the princesses, wore out their slippers in a single night, he might choose from amongst them, his wife. At this news, a great number of emperors' sons, and kings' sons, presented themselves to explore this adventure. They hid themselves behind a great curtain in the chamber of the princesses. But once there, no one ever heard any more of them, and they never reappeared. Our Jonica, who arrived just then at the court of the emperor, heard talk of all these matters, and succeeded in being taken into the service of one of the imperial gardeners, who had been obliged to send away one of his best helps. His new master did not find him very intelligent, but he was convinced that his curling light hair and good looks, would make him acceptable to the princesses. Thus his daily duty, then, was each morning to present a bouquet to the daughters of the emperor. Jonica posted himself at their door, at the hour of their awakening, and as each came forth, he presented her with a bouquet. They found the flowers very beautiful, but disdained to cast a look or smile on poor Jonica, who remained there more than ever, Gura Casca, open-mouthed. Lina, alone, the youngest, the most graceful, and the prettiest of the princesses, let fall by hazard on him, a look as soft as velvet. Ah! my sisters,' cried she, 'how good looking our young gardener is!' They burst into mocking laughter, and the eldest remarked to Lina, that it was unbecoming a princess to lower her eyes to a valet. Nevertheless, Jonica intoxicated by the looks and the beauty of Lina, thought of the promise of the emperor, and it entered into his head to try and discover the mystery of the slippers. He did not mention it to any one though, for he was afraid that the emperor might hear of it, be angry, and have him driven away from court, as a punishment for his audacity. While these thoughts were passing through his brain, Jonica dreamed again of the fairy with the sparkling robe. She held in her right hand two small laurel branches, one was as red as a cherry, and the other like a rose; in her left hand was a little golden spade, a watering can of the same metal, and a silken veil. She gave all these to Jonica, saying, 'Plant these two laurels in large boxes, turn over the earth with this spade, water them with this watering can, and wipe them with this silken veil. When they have grown three feet high, say to each separately, 'Beautiful laurels, with a golden spade I have dug you, with a golden watering can I have watered you, and with a silken veil I have wiped you.' This said, you can ask anything you wish, and it will be accorded you.' When Jonica awoke he found the two laurels and the other objects on the table, and fell on his knees to thank the good fairy. He at once began to carry out her instructions. The shrubs grew rapidly, and when they had attained the necessary height, he went to the cherry laurel, and said, 'Beautiful cherry laurel, with a golden spade I have dug you, with a golden can I have watered you, with a silken veil I have wiped you; grant me in exchange, the gift of becoming invisible whenever I desire.' Immediately he saw grow out from the laurel, a beautiful white flower. He gathered it, placed it in his buttonhole, and at once became invisible. When night arrived, the princesses went up to their bedroom, and Jonica, barefooted, so as to make no noise, glided up behind them, and hid himself underneath one of the twelve beds. Then, instead of preparing themselves to go to bed, each of the princesses opened a wardrobe, and took out their richest dresses and finest jewels. Each assisting the other, they dressed en grande toilette. Jonica could see nothing from his hiding place, but he heard them laugh, and dance with joy. The eldest, who seemed to have great authority over them, hurried them, and kept exclaiming, 'Be quick, my sisters, our dancers are dying of impatience.' At the end of an hour, the. laughing and talking ceased. Jonica carefully put out his head, and saw that the princesses were dressed like fairies. They wore quite new satin slippers, and held in their hands the bouquets which he had offered to them in the morning. They placed themselves one behind the other, and the eldest who was at the head, struck three blows in a peculiar manner, on a certain part of the wall. A door quite invisible opened, and the princesses disappeared. Jonica followed them noiselessly, but by accident he placed his foot on the train of the princess Lina. 'There is someone behind me,' she cried. 'Someone trod on my dress.' The eldest turned round quickly, but seeing no one, exclaimed, 'How foolish you are Lina, you must have caught it against a nail.' The twelve daughters of the emperor, descended, and descended, and descended until they arrived at an underground passage, at the end of which was an iron door with a strong bolt. The eldest opened this, and then they found themselves in an enchanted bower, where the leaves of the trees were in silver, and sparkled in the moonlight. They walked on until they came to a second bower, and here the trees had golden leaves; still on, and then a third bower, where the leaves were of emeralds and rubies and diamonds, and their rays were so bright that one might have thought it was full daylight. The princesses continued their walk, and (Jonica still following), arrived soon on the borders of a large lake. On this lake were twelve boats, and in each boat one of the lost sons of an emperor, who, oar in hand, each waited for a princess. Jonica took his place in the boat of the princess Lina. The boat, being more heavily laden, could not float so quickly as the others, and so was always behind. 'I do not know,' said Lina to her cavalier, 'why we do not go so quickly as at other times, what can be the matter?' 'I do not understand it either,' said the emperor's son, 'for I row with all my force.' On the other side of the lake the little gardener perceived a beautiful palace, illuminated a giorno, and heard harmonious sounds of violins, trumpets and cymbals. The emperors' sons each having a princess on his arm entered the palace, and after them came Jonica into a saloon lighted by ten lustres. The walls were immense mirrors, in gold frames set with precious stones. On a centre table a massive golden vase contained an enormous bouquet of flowers which gave forth an exquisite perfume. Poor Jonica was literally dazed and petrified by the sight of so much splendor. When able to look at, and admire the princesses in the midst of this dazzling light, he lost his wits completely, and looked so ardently with his eyes, that one would have thought that he wished to taste them also with his mouth. Some were fair, some were brown, and nearly all of them had let fall their beautiful hair down their pretty white shoulders. Never, even in his dreams, had the poor boy seen such enchantresses. But amongst them all, and above all, it was Lina, who seemed to him the most graceful, the most beautiful, the most intoxicating, with her dark eyes and long hair -- the shade of a raven's wing. And with what fire she danced! Leaning on the shoulder of her cavalier, Lina turned as light as a spindle. Her face was flushed, her eyes shone like two stars, and it was evident that dancing was her great delight. Poor Jonica let fall envious looks on the emperors' sons, and heartily regretted not to be on the same footing, so that he also might have had the right to be cavalier to such beautiful young creatures. All these dancers, to the number of fifty, were emperors' sons who had tried to discover the secret of the princesses. These latter had enticed them to a midnight expedition, and had given them to drink at table, an enchanted beverage, which had frozen their blood, killed in them every sentiment of love, every remembrance, or worldly desire, leaving them only the ardent pleasure of the dance, in the bosom of this splendid palace, become henceforth their eternal habitation. The princesses danced until their white satin slippers were in holes, until the cock had crowed three times. Then the music ceased, black slaves arranged a princely table, which was instantaneously filled with the most succulent meats, and the rarest and most exquisite wines. Each one took his place, and ate and drank at his ease, excepting our poor Gura Casca, who had to content himself with feasting his eyes alone. When the repast was over, the princesses reentered their boat, and Jonica who followed them step by step, arrived with them in the wood with the silver leaves. There, to prove to himself, and to prove also to others, that what he had seen was no dream, Jonica broke off a branch of the tree with the beautiful leaves. The noise which he made, caused Lina to turn round. 'What can that be?' said she to her sisters. 'Probably,' said the eldest, 'it is the rustling amongst the branches of some bird, that has its nest in one of the towers of the palace.' Jonica then got in advance of the princesses, and mounted rapidly to their chamber, opened the window, and glided silently along the trellis which covered the wall, and began his daily work. While preparing the flowers for the princesses, he hid the branch of silver leaves in the bouquet destined for Lina. Great was the astonishment of the young girl, who asked herself, in vain, how it was possible that the branch could have come there. Without saying anything to her sisters, she went down into the garden, and there, under the shade of a large chestnut tree, she found the gardener. She had for the moment, a great mind to speak to him, but on reflection, thought it better to wait a little, and so passed on her way. When evening arrived, the princesses again returned to the ball, Jonica followed them, and a second time entered Lina's boat. Again the emperor's son complained of the labor required in rowing. 'No doubt it is the heat which you feel,' replied Lina. All passed as on the previous evening, but this time, on returning, Jonica broke off a branch of the golden leaves. When the daily bouquets were distributed, the princess Lina found, concealed in hers, the golden Remaining a little behind her sisters, and showing the golden branch to Jonica, she asked, 'From whence, hadst thou these leaves?' 'Your highness knows quite well.' 'So thou hast followed us?' 'Yes, highness.' 'And how didst thou manage that?' 'It is a secret.' 'We did not see thee.' 'I was invisible.' 'At any rate, I see that thou hast penetrated the mystery. Speak of it to no one, and take this purse as the price of thy silence,' and she threw to the poor boy, a purse of gold. 'I do not sell my silence,' said Jonica, with a haughtiness which astonished the princess. 'I know how to hold my tongue, without being paid for it.' And he walked away, leaving the purse on the ground. The three succeeding days, Lina neither saw nor heard anything particular, during their nocturnal excursions; but the fourth night, there was a distinct rustling in the wood of diamond leaves, and the next morning she found a diamond branch, hidden in her bouquet. Then she was fully convinced that the young gardener knew all their escapades, and calling him to her, she asked 'Dost thou know the price, which the emperor, our father, offers for the discovery of our secret?' 'I know it, highness.' 'Then why dost thou not go to him, and betray it?' 'I do not wish.' 'Art thou afraid?' 'No, highness.' 'Then, why wilt thou not speak?' Jonica looked up at her, his eyes full of expression, but did not reply. While Lina was talking with the youth, her sisters were laughing at her, and when she came back they still went on with their ridicule, until she became quite red with anger. 'Thou canst marry him,' said her sisters, 'there is nothing to prevent; thou wilt be the gardener's wife, and thou wilt live in the cottage at the bottom of the garden. Thou canst help thy husband to draw the water from the fountain, and thou canst offer us our daily nosegays.' Lina became still more angry, and the weight of her anger fell on poor Jonica. When he again presented her with flowers, she took them with supreme indifference, and treated him with the greatest disdain. The poor fellow could not understand it, for he was always most respectful. He never dared to look her full in the face, and yet she felt he was present with her all day long. At length, she came to the resolution to confide to her sisters all that she knew. 'What!' cried they, 'this stupid boy has learned our secret, and thou hast kept it from us! We must, at once, absolutely get rid of him.' 'By what means?' 'Have him stabbed, and thrown into a cave.' This was the usual way by which troublesome people were disposed of. But Lina would not hear of this, saying that the poor boy had committed no fault. 'If you touch a hair of his head,' she said, 'I will go and confess all to our father the emperor.' To tranquilize Lina, it was decided to get Jonica to go again to the ball, and to make him drink the enchanted beverage, which would put him in the same state as the other cavaliers. So they called the young gardener to them, and the eldest sister asked him by what means he had discovered their secret? but he would give them no answer. Then they informed him of the decision which they had come to respecting him. He replied, that he accepted it, and that he would drink willingly the enchanted beverage, so as to become the cavalier of her whom he loved. On the day fixed, wishing to have as fine clothes, and to be able to make as handsome presents as the emperors' sons, Jonica went to the rose laurel, and said 'my beautiful laurel, I have dug you with a golden spade, I have watered you with a golden watering can, I have wiped you with a silken veil, grant that, in one moment, I may be as richly dressed as an emperor's son.' Immediately he saw a beautiful flower expand, and gathering it, he was at once clad in velvet as dark and soft as Lina's eyes, a toque to match, with an agraffe of diamonds, and a flower in his buttonhole. From being tanned and brown, his complexion became fair and fresh as an infant's and his beauty was marvelous. Even his common, vulgar manner changed completely, and any one might have thought him really an emperor's son. Thus metamorphosed, he presented himself before the emperor, to ask his authority to try in his turn, to unravel the secret of the princesses. He was so changed that the emperor did not recognize him. When the princesses went back to their bedroom, Jonica was waiting for them behind the door After their usual excursion, Jonica gave his arm to the eldest princess, and afterwards danced with each of the sisters successively, and with so much dignity and grace, that they were all enchanted. When it was Lina's turn, he was in raptures; but he did not address a single word to her. While conducting her to her place, the princess said to him, jokingly, 'Being treated like an emperor's son, thou must be in blissful happiness.' 'Never fear, princess,' replied he, 'you shall not be a gardener's wife.' Lina looked at him, half frightened, but he walked away, without waiting for her answer. When the princesses had once more danced until their slippers were in holes, the music ceased, the black slaves prepared the table as usual, and Jonica was placed at the right hand of the eldest princess, and facing Lina. He was served with the most delicate meats, the choicest wines; compliments and praises were showered on him, but he was neither intoxicated by their wines, nor by their flatteries. Presently the eldest princess made a sign, and one of the slaves came forward bearing a massive golden cup. 'This enchanted palace has no longer any secrets for thee,' cried the princess to Jonica. 'Let us drink to your triumph!' The young man casting a tender glance at Lina, raised the cup to his lips. 'Do not drink it,' she cried impetuously. 'Do not drink it, I would rather be a gardener's wife,' and she began to weep. Jonica threw the enchanted beverage over his shoulder, cleared the table, and fell on his knees at the feet of the princess Lina. All the other emperors' sons fell each at the feet of their respective princesses, who choosing them for their husbands, held out their hands and raised them from the ground. The charm was broken! The twelve couples crossed the lake in boats, traversed the forests, passed through the cellar, and arrived at the emperor's chamber. Jonica, with the golden cup in his hand, explained to him the mystery of the worn-out slippers. 'God give thee life, young man,' said the emperor. 'Take thy choice from amongst my daughters.' 'My choice has been made for a long time,' said he, taking by the hand the princess Lina, who blushed and could not look up. The princess Lina did not become a gardener's wife, for Jonica became a prince. Before their marriage took place, Lina enquired of him, how he had discovered their secret. Jonica showed her the two laurels. Lina, like an intelligent woman, thought that Jonica would have too great an advantage over her, if he enjoyed the power which was given to him by possessing these shrubs, so she tore the laurels up by their roots and flung them into the fire. A short time afterwards, the marriage took place with imperial splendor. It was followed by festivities which lasted three days and three nights, and the young people lived very happily together, to a good old age. Fairy tales and Legends (London: H. K. Lewis, 1881), pp. 1-20.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Three Girls,"Gypsy (Slovak, Moravian, and Bohemian)","This imperfectly told story combines a type 306 story with a vampire story (type 307, titled generically 'The Princesses in the Coffin').","Francis Hindes Groome, Gypsy Folk-Tales (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1899), no. 41, pp. 141-43.","Somewhere there was a king who had three daughters, princesses. Those three sisters used to go to meet the devils, and the father knew not where they went to. But there was one called Jankos; Halenka [a fairy] aided him. The king asks Jankos, 'Don't you know where my daughters go? Not one single night are they at home, and they are always wearing out new shoes.' Then Jankos lay down in front of the door, and kept watch to see where they went to. But Halenka told him everything; she aided him. 'They will, when they come, fling fire on you, and prick you with needles.' Halenka told him he must not stir, but be like a corpse. They came, those devils, for the girls, and straightway the girls set out with them to hell. On, on, they walked, but he stuck close to them. As the girls went to hell he followed close behind, but so that they knew it not. He went through the diamond forest; when he came there he cut himself a diamond twig from the forest. He follows; straightway they, those girls, cried, 'Jankos is coming behind us.' For when he broke it, he made a great noise. The girls heard it. 'Jankos is coming behind us.' But the devils said, 'What does it matter if he is?' Next they went through the forest of glass, and once more he cut off a twig; now he had two tokens. Then they went through the golden forest, and once more he cut off a twig; so now he had three. Then Halenka tells him, 'I shall change you into a fly, and when you come into hell, creep under the bed, hide yourself there, and see what will happen.' Then the devils danced with the girls, who tore their shoes all to pieces, for they danced upon blades of knives, and so they must tear them. Then they flung the shoes under the bed, where Jankos took them, so that he might show them at home. When the devils had danced with the girls, each of them threw his girl upon the bed and lay with her; thus did they with two of them, but the third would not yield herself. Then Jankos, having got all he wanted, returned home and lay down again in front of the door, 'that the girls may know I am lying here.' The girls returned after midnight, and went to bed in their room as if nothing had happened. But Jankos knew well what had happened, and straightway he went to their father, the king, and showed him the tokens. 'I know where your daughters go: to hell. The three girls must own they were there, in the fire. Isn't it true? weren't you there? And if you believe me not, I will show you the tokens. See, here is one token from the diamond forest; then here is one from the forest of glass; a third from the golden forest; and the fourth is the shoes which you tore dancing with the devils. And two of you lay with the devils, but that third one not, she would not yield herself.' Straightway the king seized his rifle, and straightway he shot them dead. Then he seized a knife, and slit up their bellies, and straightway the devils were scattered out from their bellies. Then he buried them in the church, and laid each coffin in front of the altar, and every night a soldier stood guard over them. But every night those two used to rend the soldier in pieces; more than a hundred were rent thus. At last it fell to a new soldier, a recruit, to stand guard; when he went upon guard he was weeping. But a little old man came to him -- it was my God; and Jankos was there with the soldier. And the old man tells him, 'When the twelfth hour strikes and they come out of their coffins, straightway jump in and lie down in the coffin, and don't leave the coffin, for if you do they will rend you. So don't you go out, even if they beg you and fling fire on you, for they will beg you hard to come out.' Thus then till morning he lay in the coffin. In the morning those two were alive again, and both kneeling in front of the altar. They were lovelier than ever. Then the soldier took one to wife, and Jankos took the other. Then when they came home with them their father was very glad. Then Jankos and the soldier got married, and if they are not dead they are still alive. Folk-Tales (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1899), no. 41, pp. 141-43. story (type 307, titled generically 'The Princesses in the Coffin').",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
306,The Twelve Dancing Princesses,France,"Lang does not identify the specific source of this story. However, in his preface to the collection he notes that some of the tales were 'adapted' from the long stories of Madame d'Aulnoy. Marie-Catherine d'Aulnoy (ca. 1650-1705) was a prolific writer of literary fairy tales. The current tale's literary style, Belgian place names, and French-language verses offer strong evidence that Lang used one of d'Aulnoy's longer works as a basis for this retelling. Note also that the following story, 'The Slippers of the Twelve Princesses,' collected in Romania, bears a very strong resemblance to the current one. This should be no surprise, as d'Aulnoy's stories were read and retold across Europe. The motif of the princess sleeping on a pea, covered by twenty mattresses, is best known in Hans Christian Andersen's tale The Princess on the Pea (type 704).","Andrew Lang, The Red Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1895), pp. 1-12.","I. Once upon a time there lived in the village of Montignies-sur-Roc a little cow-boy, without either father or mother. His real name was Michael, but he was always called the Star Gazer, because when he drove his cows over the commons to seek for pasture, he went along with his head in the air, gaping at nothing. As he had a white skin, blue eyes, and hair that curled all over his head, the village girls used to cry after him, 'Well, Star Gazer, what are you doing? ' and Michael would answer, 'Oh, nothing,' and go on his way without even turning to look at them. The fact was he thought them very ugly, with their sun-burnt necks, their great red hands, their coarse petticoats and their wooden shoes. He had heard that somewhere in the world there were girls whose necks were white and whose hands were small, who were always dressed in the finest silks and laces, and were called princesses, and while his companions round the fire saw nothing in the flames but common everyday fancies, he dreamed that he had the happiness to marry a princess. II. One morning about the middle of August, just at mid-day when the sun was hottest, Michael ate his dinner of a piece of dry bread, and went to sleep under an oak. And while he slept he dreamt that there appeared before him a beautiful lady, dressed in a robe of cloth of gold, who said to him, 'Go to the castle of Beloeil, and there you shall marry a princess.' That evening the little cow-boy, who had been thinking a great deal about the advice of the lady in the golden dress, told his dream to the farm people. But, as was natural, they only laughed at the Star Gazer. The next day at the same hour he went to sleep again under the same tree. The lady appeared to him a second time, and said, 'Go to the castle of Beloeil, and you shall marry a princess.' In the evening Michael told his friends that he had dreamed the same dream again, but they only laughed at him more than before. 'Never mind,' he thought to himself; 'if the lady appears to me a third time, I will do as she tells me.' The following day, to the great astonishment of all the village, about two o'clock in the afternoon a voice was heard singing: Raleô, raleô, How the cattle go! It was the little cow-boy driving his herd back to the byre. The farmer began to scold him furiously, but he answered quietly, 'I am going away,' made his clothes into a bundle, said good-bye to all his friends, and boldly set out to seek his fortunes. There was great excitement through all the village, and on the top of the hill the people stood holding their sides with laughing, as they watched the Star Gazer trudging bravely along the valley with his bundle at the end of his stick. It was enough to make anyone laugh, certainly. III. It was well known for full twenty miles round that there lived in the castle of Beloeil twelve princesses of wonderful beauty, and as proud as they were beautiful, and who were besides so very sensitive and of such truly royal blood, that they would have felt at once the presence of a pea in their beds, even if the mattresses had been laid over it. It was whispered about that they led exactly the lives that princesses ought to lead, sleeping far into the morning, and never getting up till midday. They had twelve beds all in the same room, but what was very extraordinary was the fact that though they were locked in by triple bolts, every morning their satin shoes were found worn into holes. When they were asked what they had been doing all night, they always answered that they had been asleep; and, indeed, no noise was ever heard in the room, yet the shoes could not wear themselves out alone! At last the Duke of Beloeil ordered the trumpet to be sounded, and a proclamation to be made that whoever could discover how his daughters wore out their shoes should choose one of them for his wife. On hearing the proclamation a number of princes arrived at the castle to try their luck. They watched all night behind the open door of the princesses, but when the morning came they had all disappeared, and no one could tell what had become of them. IV. When he reached the castle, Michael went straight to the gardener and offered his services. Now it happened that the garden boy had just been sent away, and though the Star Gazer did not look very sturdy, the gardener agreed to take him, as he thought that his pretty face and golden curls would please the princesses. The first thing he was told was that when the princesses got up he was to present each one with a bouquet, and Michael thought that if he had nothing more unpleasant to do than that he should get on very well. Accordingly he placed himself behind the door of the princesses' room, with the twelve bouquets in a basket. He gave one to each of the sisters, and they took them without even deigning to look at the lad, except Lina the youngest, who fixed her large black eyes as soft as velvet on him, and exclaimed, 'Oh, how pretty he is -- our new flower boy!' The rest all burst out laughing, and the eldest pointed out that a princess ought never to lower herself by looking at a garden boy. Now Michael knew quite well what had happened to all the princes, but notwithstanding, the beautiful eyes of the princess Lina inspired him with a violent longing to try his fate. Unhappily he did not dare to come forward, being afraid that he should only be jeered at, or even turned away from the castle on account of his impudence. V. Nevertheless, the Star Gazer had another dream. The lady in the golden dress appeared to him once more, holding in one hand two young laurel trees, a cherry laurel and a rose laurel, and in the other hand a little golden rake, a little golden bucket, and a silken towel. She thus addressed him, 'Plant these two laurels in two large pots, rake them over with the rake, water them with the bucket, and wipe them with the towel. When they have grown as tall as a girl of fifteen, say to each of them, 'My beautiful laurel, with the golden rake I have raked you, with the golden bucket I have watered you, with the silken towel I have wiped you.' Then after that ask anything you choose, and the laurels will give it to you.' Michael thanked the lady in the golden dress, and when he woke he found the two laurel bushes beside him. So he carefully obeyed the orders he had been given by the lady. The trees grew very fast, and when they were as tall as a girl of fifteen he said to the cherry laurel, 'My lovely cherry laurel, with the golden rake I have raked thee, with the golden bucket I have watered thee, with the silken towel I have wiped thee. Teach me how to become invisible.' Then there instantly appeared on the laurel a pretty white flower, which Michael gathered and stuck into his buttonhole. VI. That evening, when the princesses went upstairs to bed, he followed them barefoot, so that he might make no noise, and hid himself under one of the twelve beds, so as not to take up much room. The princesses began at once to open their wardrobes and boxes. They took out of them the most magnificent dresses, which they put on before their mirrors, and when they had finished, turned themselves all round to admire their appearances. Michael could see nothing from his hiding place, but he could hear everything, and he listened to the princesses laughing and jumping with pleasure. At last the eldest said, 'Be quick, my sisters, our partners will be impatient.' At the end of an hour, when the Star Gazer heard no more noise, he peeped out and saw the twelve sisters in splendid garments, with their satin shoes on their feet, and in their hands the bouquets he had brought them. 'Are you ready?' asked the eldest. 'Yes,' replied the other eleven in chorus, and they took their places one by one behind her. Then the eldest princess clapped her hands three times and a trap door opened. All the princesses disappeared down a secret staircase, and Michael hastily followed them. As he was following on the steps of the princess Lina, he carelessly trod on her dress. 'There is somebody behind me,' cried the princess; 'they are holding my dress.' 'You foolish thing,' said her eldest sister, 'you are always afraid of something. It is only a nail which caught you.' VII. They went down, down, down, till at last they came to a passage with a door at one end, which was only fastened with a latch. The eldest princess opened it, and they found themselves immediately in a lovely little wood, where the leaves were spangled with drops of silver which shone in the brilliant light of the moon. They next crossed another wood where the leaves were sprinkled with gold, and after that another still, where the leaves glittered with diamonds. At last the Star Gazer perceived a large lake, and on the shores of the lake twelve little boats with awnings, in which were seated twelve princes, who, grasping their oars, awaited the princesses. Each princess entered one of the boats, and Michael slipped into that which held the youngest. The boats glided along rapidly, but Lina's, from being heavier, was always behind the rest. 'We never went so slowly before,' said the princess; 'what can be the reason?' 'I don't know,' answered the prince. 'I assure you I am rowing as hard as I can.' On the other side of the lake the garden boy saw a beautiful castle splendidly illuminated, whence came the lively music of fiddles, kettledrums, and trumpets. In a moment they touched land, and the company jumped out of the boats; and the princes, after having securely fastened their barks, gave their arms to the princesses and conducted them to the castle. VIII. Michael followed, and entered the ballroom in their train. Everywhere were mirrors, lights, flowers, and damask hangings. The Star Gazer was quite bewildered at the magnificence of the sight. He placed himself out of the way in a corner, admiring the grace and beauty of the princesses. Their loveliness was of every kind. Some were fair and some were dark; some had chestnut hair, or curls darker still, and some had golden locks. Never were so many beautiful princesses seen together at one time, but the one whom the cow-boy thought the most beautiful and the most fascinating was the little princess with the velvet eyes. With what eagerness she danced! Leaning on her partner's shoulder she swept by like a whirlwind. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, and it was plain that she loved dancing better than anything else. The poor boy envied those handsome young men with whom she danced so gracefully, but he did not know how little reason he had to be jealous of them. The young men were really the princes who, to the number of fifty at least, had tried to steal the princesses' secret. The princesses had made them drink something of a philter, which froze the heart and left nothing but the love of dancing. IX. They danced on till the shoes of the princesses were worn into holes. When the cock crowed the third time the fiddles stopped, and a delicious supper was served by negro boys, consisting of sugared orange flowers, crystallized rose leaves, powdered violets, cracknels, wafers, and other dishes, which are, as everyone knows, the favorite food of princesses. After supper, the dancers all went back to their boats, and this time the Star Gazer entered that of the eldest princess. They crossed again the wood with the diamond-spangled leaves, the wood with gold-sprinkled leaves, and the wood whose leaves glittered with drops of silver, and as a proof of what he had seen, the boy broke a small branch from a tree in the last wood. Lina turned as she heard the noise made by the breaking of the branch. 'What was that noise?' she said. 'It was nothing,' replied her eldest sister; 'it was only the screech of the barn owl that roosts in one of the turrets of the castle.' While she was speaking Michael managed to slip in front, and running up the staircase, he reached the princesses' room first. He flung open the window, and sliding down the vine which climbed up the wall, found himself in the garden just as the sun was beginning to rise, and it was time for him to set to his work. X. That day, when he made up the bouquets, Michael hid the branch with the silver drops in the nosegay intended for the youngest princess. When Lina discovered it she was much surprised. However, she said nothing to her sisters, but as she met the boy by accident while she was walking under the shade of the elms, she suddenly stopped as if to speak to him; then, altering her mind, went on her way. The same evening the twelve sisters went again to the ball, and the Star Gazer again followed them and crossed the lake in Lina's boat. This time it was the prince who complained that the boat seemed very heavy. 'It is the heat,' replied the princess. 'I, too, have been feeling very warm.' During the ball she looked everywhere for the gardener's boy, but she never saw him. As they came back, Michael gathered a branch from the wood with the gold-spangled leaves, and now it was the eldest princess who heard the noise that it made in breaking. 'It is nothing,' said Lina; 'only the cry of the owl which roosts in the turrets of the castle.' XI. As soon as she got up she found the branch in her bouquet. When the sisters went down she stayed a little behind and said to the cow-boy, 'Where does this branch come from?' 'Your Royal Highness knows well enough,' answered Michael. 'So you have followed us?' 'Yes, princess.' 'How did you manage it? We never saw you.' 'I hid myself,' replied the Star Gazer quietly. The princess was silent a moment, and then said, 'You know our secret! Keep it. Here is the reward of your discretion.' And she flung the boy a purse of gold. 'I do not sell my silence,' answered Michael, and he went away without picking up the purse. For three nights Lina neither saw nor heard anything extraordinary; on the fourth she heard a rustling among the diamond-spangled leaves of the wood. That day there was a branch of the trees in her bouquet. She took the Star Gazer aside, and said to him in a harsh voice, 'You know what price my father has promised to pay for our secret?' 'I know, princess,' answered Michael. 'Don't you mean to tell him?' 'That is not my intention.' 'Are you afraid?' 'No, princess.' 'What makes you so discreet, then?' But Michael was silent. XII. Lina's sisters had seen her talking to the little garden boy, and jeered at her for it. 'What prevents your marrying him?' asked the eldest. 'You would become a gardener too; it is a charming profession. You could live in a cottage at the end of the park, and help your husband to draw up water from the well, and when we get up you could bring us our bouquets.' The princess Lina was very angry, and when the Star Gazer presented her bouquet, she received it in a disdainful manner. Michael behaved most respectfully. He never raised his eyes to her, but nearly all day she felt him at her side without ever seeing him. One day she made up her mind to tell everything to her eldest sister. 'What!' said she, 'this rogue knows our secret, and you never told me! I must lose no time in getting rid of him.' 'But how?' 'Why, by having him taken to the tower with the dungeons, of course.' For this was the way that in old times beautiful princesses got rid of people who knew too much. But the astonishing part of it was that the youngest sister did not seem at all to relish this method of stopping the mouth of the gardener's boy, who, after all, had said nothing to their father. XIII. It was agreed that the question should be submitted to the other ten sisters. All were on the side of the eldest. Then the youngest sister declared that if they laid a finger on the little garden boy, she would herself go and tell their father the secret of the holes in their shoes. At last it was decided that Michael should be put to the test; that they would take him to the ball, and at the end of supper would give him the philter which was to enchant him like the rest. They sent for the Star Gazer, and asked him how he had contrived to learn their secret; but still he remained silent. Then, in commanding tones, the eldest sister gave him the order they had agreed upon. He only answered, ' I will obey.' He had really been present, invisible, at the council of princesses, and had heard all; but he had make up his mind to drink of the philter, and sacrifice himself to the happiness of her he loved. Not wishing, however, to cut a poor figure at the ball by the side of the other dancers, he went at once to the laurels, and said, 'My lovely rose laurel, with the golden rake I have raked thee, with the golden bucket I have watered thee, with a silken towel I have dried thee. Dress me like a prince.' A beautiful pink flower appeared. Michael gathered it, and found himself in a moment clothed in velvet, which was as black as the eyes of the little princess, with a cap to match, a diamond aigrette, and a blossom of the rose laurel in his buttonhole. Thus dressed, he presented himself that evening before the Duke of Beloeil, and obtained leave to try and discover his daughters' secret. He looked so distinguished that hardly anyone would have known who he was. XIV. The twelve princesses went upstairs to bed. Michael followed them, and waited behind the open door till they gave the signal for departure. This time he did not cross in Lina's boat. He gave his arm to the eldest sister, danced with each in turn, and was so graceful that everyone was delighted with him. At last the time came for him o dance with the little princess. She found him the best partner in the world, but he did not dare to speak a single word to her. When he was taking her back to her place she said to him in a mocking voice, 'Here you are at the summit of your wishes. You are being treated like a prince.' 'Don't be afraid,' replied the Star Gazer gently. 'You shall never be a gardener's wife.' The little princess stared at him with a frightened face, and he left her without waiting for an answer. When the satin slippers were worn through the fiddles stopped, and the negro boys set the table. Michael was placed next to the eldest sister, and opposite to the youngest. They gave him the most exquisite dishes to eat, and the most delicate wines to drink; and in order to turn his head more completely, compliments and flattery were heaped on him from every side. But he took care not to be intoxicated, either by the wine or the compliments. XV. At last the eldest sister made a sign, and one of the black pages brought in a large golden cup. 'The enchanted castle has no more secrets for you,' she said to the Star Gazer. 'Let us drink to your triumph.' He cast a lingering glance at the little princess, and without hesitation lifted the cup. 'Don't drink!' suddenly cried out the little princess; 'I would rather marry a gardener.' And she burst into tears. Michael flung the contents .of the cup behind him, sprang over the table, and fell at Lina's feet. The rest of the princes fell likewise at the knees of the princesses, each of whom chose a husband and raised him to her side. The charm was broken. The twelve couples embarked in the boats, which crossed back many times in order to carry over the other princes. Then they all went through the three woods, and when they had passed the door of the underground passage a great noise was heard, as if the enchanted castle was crumbling to the earth. They went straight to the room of the Duke of Beloeil, who had just awoke. Michael held in his hand the golden cup, and he revealed the secret of the holes in the shoes. 'Choose, then,' said the duke, 'whichever you prefer.' 'My choice is already made,' replied the garden boy, and he offered his hand to the youngest princess, who blushed and lowered her eyes. XVI. The princess Lina did not become a gardener's wife; on the contrary, it was the Star Gazer who became a prince. But before the marriage ceremony the princess insisted that her lover should tell her how he came to discover the secret. So he showed her the two laurels which had helped him, and she, like a prudent girl, thinking they gave him too much advantage over his wife, cut them off at the root and threw them in the fire. And this is why the country girls go about singing: Nous n'irons plus au bois, Les lauriers sont coupés, and dancing in summer by the light of the moon. Red Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1895), pp. 1-12. Lang does not identify the specific source of this story. However, in his preface to the collection he notes that some of the tales were 'adapted' from the long stories of Madame d'Aulnoy. Marie-Catherine d'Aulnoy (ca. 1650-1705) was a prolific writer of literary fairy tales. The current tale's literary style, Belgian place names, and French-language verses offer strong evidence that Lang used one of d'Aulnoy's longer works as a basis for this retelling. Note also that the following story, 'The Slippers of the Twelve Princesses,' collected in Romania, bears a very strong resemblance to the current one. This should be no surprise, as d'Aulnoy's stories were read and retold across Europe. The motif of the princess sleeping on a pea, covered by twenty mattresses, is best known in Hans Christian Andersen's tale The Princess on the Pea (type 704).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,Gutmann und Gutweib,Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,NA,"Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Sämtliche Werke, vol. 1 (Stuttgart: J. G. Cotta, 1893), pp. 151-52.","Und morgen fällt St. Martins Fest, Gutweib liebt ihren Mann; Da knetet sie ihm Puddings ein Und bäckt sie in der Pfann'. Im Bette liegen beide nun, Da saust ein wilder West; Und Gutmann spricht zur guten Frau: 'Du, riegle die Türe fest.' -- 'Bin kaum erholt und halb erwarmt, Wie käm' ich da zu Ruh; Und klapperte sie einhundert Jahr, Ich riegelte sie nicht zu.' Drauf eine Wette schlossen sie Ganz leise sich ins Ohr: So wer das erste Wörtlein spräch', Der schöbe den Riegel vor. Zwei Wanderer kommen um Mitternacht Und wissen nicht, wo sie stehn, Die Lampe losch, der Herd verglomm, Zu hören ist nichts, zu sehn. 'Was ist das für ein Hexen-Ort? Da bricht uns die Geduld!' Doch hörten sie kein Sterbenswort, Des war die Türe schuld. Den weißen Pudding speisten sie, Den schwarzen ganz vertraut; Und Gutweib sagte sich selber viel, Doch keine Silbe laut. Zum andern sprach der eine dann: 'Wie trocken ist mir der Hals! Der Schrank, der klafft, und geistig riecht's, Da findet sich's allenfalls. 'Ein Fläschchen Schnaps ergreif' ich da, Das trifft sich doch geschickt! Ich bring' es dir, du bringst es mir, Und bald sind wir erquickt.' Doch Gutmann sprang so heftig auf Und fuhr sie drohend an: 'Bezahlen soll mit teurem Geld, Wer mir den Schnaps verthan!' Und Gutweib sprang auch froh heran, Drei Sprünge, als wär' sie reich: 'Du Gutmann sprachst das erste Wort, Nun riegle die Türe gleich!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,Johnie Blunt,"Scotland, Robert Burns",NA,"James Johnson, The Scotish Musical Museum: Consisting of upwards of Six Hundred Songs, now accompanied with copious notes and illustrations of the lyric poetry and music of Scotland by the late William Stenhouse, vol. 4 (Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons; London: Thomas Cadell, 1834), no. 365, p. 376.","There liv'd a man in yonder glen, And John Blunt was his name, O; He maks gude maut, and he brews gude ale, And he bears a wondrous fame, O. The wind blew in the hallan ae night, Fu' snell out o'er the moor, O; 'Rise up, rise up, auld Luckie,' he says, 'Rise up and bar the door, O.' They made a paction tween them twa, They made it firm and sure, O, Whae'er sud speak the foremost word, Should rise and bar the door, O. Three travellers that had tint their gate, As thro' the hills they foor, O, They airted by the line o' light Fu' straight to Johnie Blunt's door, O. They haurl'd auld Luckie out o' her bed, And laid her on the floor, O; But never a word auld Luckie wad say, For barrin o' the door, O. 'Ye've eaten my bread, ye hae druken my ale, And ye'll mak my auld wife a whore, O' 'Aha Johnie Blunt! ye hae spoke the first word, Get up and bar the door, O.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,Sennuccio and Bedovina,Italy,"This episode is part of a longer tale (night 8, story 1) from Straparola's famous collection, first published between 1550 and 1553.","Giovanni Francesco Straparola, The Facetious Nights of Straparola, vol. 3 (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), pp. 101-105.","One evening Sennuccio and his wife Bedovina were seated near the door of the house to take the air a little, for the season was very warm. Said Sennuccio to his wife, 'Bedovina, shut the door, for now it is time for us to get to bed.' To this request she made reply that he might shut the door himself; and as they went on thus disputing, without either one consenting to shut the door, Sennuccio said,'Bedovina, let us make a bargain, that the one who shall speak first shall shut the door.' The wife, who was both lazy by nature and obstinate by habit, agreed to this; so Sennuccio and Bedovina sat on, lazy wretches as they were, neither one daring to speak for fear of incurring the penalty of having to shut the door. The good woman, however, soon began to weary of the sport, and growing heavy with sleep she left her husband sitting on a bench, and, having taken off her clothes, went to bed. A short time after this there passed through the street the serving-man of a certain gentleman, who was going back to his house. At this moment it chanced that the candle in the lantern which he carried went out, and, observing that Sennuccio's house was yet open, he went in and said, 'Ho, there! is anyone within? Give me a light for my candle.' But no one answered him. The servant, having gone a little further into the house, observed Sennuccio, who was sitting with his eyes wide open upon the bench, and made bold to ask him for a light, but the lazy fellow vouchsafed not a word in reply. Whereupon the servant, deeming that Sennuccio was fast asleep, took him by the hand and began to jog him, saying, 'Good brother, what ails you? Answer me quick.' But Sennuccio was not asleep, and only held his tongue through fear of being amerced in the penalty of having to shut the door, so he kept silent. Then the servant went on a little further, and remarked a faint light on a hearth where the embers were yet alive, and when he entered the inner room he found no one there save only Bedovina, who was lying alone in the bed. He called to her and shook her roughly more than once, but she, like her husband, in order not to incur the penalty of having to shut the door, would neither speak nor stir. The servant, having taken a good look at her, found her comely, though miserly of her words, so he laid himself softly down beside her, and though not over well furnished for the task he undertook, contrived to accomplish it, Bedovina keeping dead silence all the while and quietly allowing him to do what he would with her, though her husband saw all that went on. And when the young man had gone his way Bedovina got out of bed, and, going to the door, found there her husband, who was yet awake, and by way of chiding him thus spake: 'A fine husband you are, certes! You have left me lying all night with the door wide open, giving thereby free course for any lewd fellows to come into the house, and never lifting your hand to keep them back. You of a truth ought to be made to drink out of a shoe with a hole in it.' Whereupon the lazy rascal rose to his feet and gave answer to her in this wise: 'Now go and shut the door, little fool that you are! Now I am equal with you. You, forsooth, thought you were going to make me shut the door, and you find yourself properly tricked. This is the way headstrong folk are always punished.' Bedovina, seeing that she had indeed lost the wager she had made, and at the same time enjoyed a merry night, shut the door forthwith, and went to bed with her cuckoldly knave of a husband.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,Story of the Third Brahman,India,"Link to an earlier printed version of this tale: Betel Anantya (The Tatler, December 31, 1830, p. 406).","W. A. Clouston, The Book of Noodles; or, Fools and the Follies: Stories of Simpletons (London: Elliot Stock, 1888), pp. 181-85.","My wife, having been long detained at her father's house, on account of her youth, had cohabited with me but about a month when, going to bed one evening, I happened to say (carelessly, I believe), that all women were babblers. She retorted, that she knew men who were not less babblers than women. I perceived at once that she alluded to myself; and being somewhat piqued at the sharpness of her retort, I said, 'Now let us see which of us shall speak first.' 'Agreed,' quoth she; 'but what shall be the forfeit?' 'A leaf of betel,' said I. Our wager being thus made, we both addressed ourselves to sleep, without speaking another word. Next morning, as we did not appear at our usual hour, after some interval, they called us, but got no answer. They again called, and then roared stoutly at the door, but with no success. The alarm began to spread in the house. They began to fear that we had died suddenly. The carpenter was called with his tools. The door of our room was forced open, and when they got in they were not a little surprised to find both of us wide awake, in good health, and at our ease, though without the faculty of speech. My mother was greatly alarmed, and gave loud vent to her grief. All the Brahmans in the village, of both sexes, assembled, to the number of one hundred; and after close examination, every one drew his own conclusion on the accident which was supposed to have befallen us. The greater number were of opinion that it could have arisen only from the malevolence of some enemy who had availed himself of magical incantations to injure us. For this reason, a famous magician was called, to counteract the effects of the witchcraft, and to remove it. As soon as he came, after steadfastly contemplating us for some time, he began to try our pulses, by putting his finger on our wrists, on our temples, on the heart, and on various other parts of the body; and after a great variety of grimaces, the remembrance of which excites my laughter, as often as I think of him, he decided that our malady arose wholly from the effect of malevolence. He even gave the name of the particular devil that possessed my wife and me and rendered us dumb. He added that the devil was very stubborn and difficult to allay, and that it would cost three or four pagodas for the offerings necessary for compelling him to fly. My relations, who were not very opulent, were astonished at the grievous imposition which the magician had laid on them. Yet, rather than we should continue dumb, they consented to give him whatsoever should be necessary for the expense of his sacrifice; and they farther promised that they would reward him for his trouble as soon as the demon by whom we were possessed should be expelled. He was on the point of commencing his magical operations, when a Brahman, one of our friends, who was present, maintained, in opposition to the opinion of the magician and his assistants, that our malady was not at all the effect of witchcraft, but arose from some simple and ordinary cause, of which he had seen several instances, and he undertook to cure us without any expense. He took a chafing-dish filled with burning charcoal, and heated a small bar of gold very hot. This he took up with pincers, and applied to the soles of my feet, then to my elbows, and the crown of my head. I endured these cruel operations without showing the least symptom of pain, or making any complaint; being determined to bear anything, and to die, if necessary, rather than lose the wager I had laid. 'Let us try the effect on the woman,' said the doctor, astonished at my resolution and apparent insensibility. And immediately taking the bit of gold, well heated, he applied it to the sole of her foot. She was not able to endure the pain for a moment, but instantly screamed out, 'Enough!' and turning to me, 'I have lost my wager,' she said; 'there is your leaf of betel.' 'Did I not tell you,' said I, taking the leaf, 'that you would be the first to speak out, and that you would prove by your own conduct that I was right in saying yesterday, when we went to bed, that women are babblers?' Everyone was surprised at the proceeding; nor could any of them comprehend the meaning of what was passing between my wife and me; until I explained the kind of wager we had made overnight, before going to sleep. 'What!' they exclaimed. 'Was it for a leaf of betel that you have spread this alarm through your own house and the whole village? For a leaf of betel that you showed such constancy, and suffered burning from the feet to the head upwards? Never in the world was there seen such folly!' And so, from that time, I have been constantly known by the name of Betel Anantya.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Barring of the Door,Scotland,"Francis James Child, in his English and Scottish Popular Ballads, vol. 5, part 1 (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1894) gives a background of this ballad, and lists several variants (no. 275, pp. 96-99).","William Edmondstoune Aytoun, The Ballads of Scotland, vol. 2 (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1858), pp. 171-72.","It fell about the Martinmas time, And a gay time it was then; When our gudewife gat puddings to make, And she's boiled them in the pan. The wind sae cauld blew south and north, And blew intil the floor; Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife, 'Get up and bar the door.' 'My hand is in my hussyskep, Gudeman, as ye may see, An it shouldna be barr'd this hundred year, It's no be barr'd for me!' They made a paction 'tween them twa, They made it firm and sure; That wha should speak the foremost word Should rise and bar the door. Then by there came twa gentlemen At twelve o'clock at night, And they could neither see house nor hall, Nor coal nor candle-light. 'Now, whether is this a rich man's house, Or whether is it a poor?' But never a word would ane o' them speak, For barring of the door. And first they ate the white puddings, And then they ate the black; Though muckle thought the gudewife to hersel, Yet ne'er a word she spak. Then said the one unto the other, 'Here, man, tak ye my knife, Do ye tak aff the auld man's beard, And I'll kiss the gudewife!' 'But there's nae water in the house, And what shall we do then?' 'What ails ye at the puddin' broo, That boils into the pan?' 0 up then started our gudeman, And an angry man was he; 'Will ye kiss my wife before my e'en, And scaud me wi' puddin' bree?' Then up and started our gudewife, Gied three skips on the floor; 'Gudeman! ye've spoke the foremost word -- Get up and bar the door!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Beggar and the Five Muffins,India,NA,"Mrs. Howard [Georgiana Wolff] Kingscote and Natêsá Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), no. 25, pp. 280-84.","In a certain village there lived a poor beggar and his wife. The man used to go out every morning with a clean vessel in his hand, return home with rice enough for the day's meal, and thus they lived on in extreme poverty. One day a poor Mádhava Brahmin invited the pair to a feast, and among Mádhavas muffins (tôsai) are always a part of the good things on festive occasions. So during the feast the beggar and his wife had their fill of muffins. They were so pleased with them, that the woman was extremely anxious to prepare some muffins in her own house, and began to save a little rice every day from what her husband brought her for the purpose. When enough had been thus collected she begged a poor neighbor's wife to give her a little black pulse, which the latter -- praised be her charity -- readily did. The faces of the beggar and his wife literally glowed with joy that day, for were they not to taste the long-desired muffins for a second time? The woman soon turned the rice she had been saving, and the black pulse she had obtained form her neighbor into a paste, and mixing it well with a little salt, green chilies, coriander seed, and curds, set it in a pan on the fire. And with her mouth watering all the while, prepared five muffins. By the time her husband had returned from his collection of alms, she was just turning out of the pan the fifth muffin. And when she placed the whole five muffins before him, his mouth, too, began to water. He kept two for himself and two he place before his wife. But what was to be done with the fifth? He did not understand the way out of this difficulty. That half and half made one, and that each could take two and a half muffins was a question too hard for him to solve. The beloved muffins must not be torn in pieces. So he said to his wife that either he or she must take the remaining one. But how were they to decide which should be the lucky one? Proposed the husband, 'Let us both shut our eyes and stretch ourselves as if in sleep, each on a verandah on either side of the kitchen. Whoever opens an eye and speaks first gets only two muffins, and the other gets three.' So great was the desire of each to get the three muffins, that they both abided by the agreement, and the woman, though her mouth watered for the muffins, resolved to go through the ordeal. She placed the five cakes in a pan and covered it over with another pan. She then carefully bolted the door inside, and asking her husband to go into the east verandah, she lay down in the west one. Sleep she had none, and with closed eyes kept guard over her husband, for if he spoke first, he would have only two muffins, and the other three would come to her share. Equally watchful was her husband over her. Thus passed one whole day -- two -- three! The house was never opened. No beggar came to receive the morning dole. The whole village began to inquire after the missing beggar. What had become of him? What had become of his wife? 'See whether his house is locked on the outside and whether he has left us to go to some other village,' spoke the gray-heads. So the village watchman came and tried to push the door open, but it would not open. 'Surely,' said they, 'it is locked on the inside! Some great calamity must have happened. Perhaps thieves have entered the house, and after plundering their property, murdered the inmates.' 'But what property is a beggar likely to have?' thought the village assembly, and not liking to waste time in idle speculations, they sent two watchmen to climb the roof and open the latch from the inside. Meanwhile the whole village -- men, women, and children -- stood outside the beggar's house to see what had taken place inside. The watchmen jumped into the house, and to their horror found the beggar and his wife stretched on opposite verandahs like two corpses. They opened the door, and the whole village rushed in. They too saw the beggar and his wife lying so still that they thought them to be dead. And though the beggar pair had heard everything that passed around them, neither would open an eye or speak, for whoever did it first would get only two muffins! At the public expense of the village, two green litters of bamboo and coconut leaves were prepared on which to remove the unfortunate pair to the cremation ground. 'How loving they must have been to have died together like this!' said some gray-beards of the village. In time the cremation ground was reached, and village watchmen had collected a score of dried cow-dung cakes and a bundle of firewood from each house for the funeral pyre. From these charitable contributions two pyres had been prepared, one for the man and one for the woman. The pyre was then lighted, and when the fire approached his leg, the man thought it time to give up the ordeal and to be satisfied with only two muffins. So while the villagers were still continuing the funeral rites, they suddenly heard a voice, 'I shall be satisfied with two muffins!' Immediately another voice replied from the woman's pyre, 'I have gained the day. Let me have the three!' The villagers were amazed and ran away. One bold man alone stood face to face with the supposed dead husband and wife. He was a bold man, indeed, for when a dead man or a man supposed to have died comes to life, village people consider him to be a ghost. However, this bold villager questioned the beggars until he came to know their story. He then went after the runaways and related to them the whole story of the five muffins, to their great amazement. But what was to be done to the people who had thus voluntarily faced death out of love for muffins? Persons who had ascended the green litter and slept on the funeral pyre could never come back to the village! If they did the whole village would perish. So the elders built a small hut in a deserted meadow outside the village and made the beggar and his wife live there. Ever after that memorable day, our hero and his wife were called the muffin beggar and the muffin beggar's wife, and many old ladies and young children from the village used to bring them muffins in the morning and evening, out of pity for them, for had they not loved muffins so much that they underwent death in life? Natêsá Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), no. 25, pp. 280-84.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,"The Farmer, His Wife, and the Open Door",Pakistan,NA,"Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 11, pp. 14-15.","Once upon a time a poor farmer and his wife, having finished their day's labor and eaten their frugal supper, were sitting by the fire, when a dispute arose between them as to who should shut the door, which had been blown open by a gust of wind. 'Wife, shut the door!' said the man. 'Husband, shut it yourself!' said the woman. 'I will not shut it, and you shall not shut it,' said the husband; 'but let the one who speaks the first word shut it.' This proposal pleased the wife exceedingly, and so the old couple, well satisfied, retired in silence to bed. In the middle of the night they heard a noise, and, peering out, they perceived that a wild dog had entered the room, and that he was busy devouring their little store of food. Not a word, however, would either of these silly people utter, and the dog, having sniffed at everything, and having eaten as much as he wanted, went out of the house. The next morning the woman took some grain to the house of a neighbor in order to have it ground into flour. In her absence the barber entered, and said to the husband, 'How is it you are sitting here all alone?' The farmer answered never a word. The barber then shaved his head, but still he did not speak; then he shaved off half his beard and half his mustache, but even then the man refrained from uttering a syllable. Then the barber covered him all over with a hideous coating of lampblack, but the stolid farmer remained as dumb as a mute. 'The man is bewitched!' cried the barber, and he hastily quitted the house. He had hardly gone when the wife returned from the mill. She, seeing her husband in such a ghastly plight, began to tremble, and exclaimed, 'Ah! wretch, what have you been doing?' 'You spoke the first word,' said the farmer, 'so begone, woman, and shut the door.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Hashish Eater and His Bride,Egypt,NA,"Julia Pardoe, 'Soliman Bey and the Three Storytellers: The Third Storyteller,' The Thousand and One Days: A Companion to the 'Arabian Nights' (London: William Lay, 1857), pp. 55-57.","No longer ago than a week ... I had a house filled with every comfort, plenty of money, and a wife who was a miracle of beauty. One day this charming better half of myself, after having passed all the day in the bath, returned from it looking so clean, fresh, and rosy, that my head, where the hashish which I had been taking for the last hour and a half was breeding disorder, became on fire and was lost. My eyes grew intoxicated with my wife, as if I had then beheld her beauty for the first time, and my heart bounded like the holy waves of the Nile during a storm. 'Dear cousin,' I cried, for she was my cousin as well as my wife, 'how captivating you are today! I am over head and ears in love with you again!' At this instant the hashish suggested to me to divorce her immediately in order to contract a new marriage and taste again the bliss of a first union. No sooner said than done; I pronounced the prescribed phrase, and the next day I celebrated a new marriage with her. When the festivities were over, I conducted my relations and guests to the door, which, from absence of mind, I had forgotten to shut. 'Dear cousin,' said my wife to me when we were alone, 'go and shut the street door.' 'It would be strange indeed if I did,' I replied. 'Am I just made a bridegroom, clothed in silk, wearing a shawl and a dagger set with diamonds, and am I to go and shut the door? Why, my dear, you are crazy; go and shut it yourself!' 'Oh indeed!' she exclaimed; 'am I, young, robed in a satin dress, with lace and precious stones, am I to go and shut the courtyard door? No, indeed, it is you who have become crazy, and not I. Come, let us make a bargain,' she continued; 'and let the first who speaks get up and bar the door.' 'Agreed,' I replied, and straightway I became mute, and she too was silent, while we both sat down, dressed as we were in our nuptial attire, looking at each other, and seated on opposite sofas. We remained thus for one -- two -- hours. During this time thieves happening to pass by, and seeing the door open, entered and laid hold of whatever came to their hand. We heard footsteps in the house, but opened not our mouths; the robbers came even into our room, and saw us seated, motionless and indifferent to all that took place. They continued therefore their pillage, collecting together everything valuable, and even dragging away the carpets from beneath us; they then laid hands on our own persons, which they despoiled of every article worth taking, while we, in the fear of losing our wager, said not a word. Having thus cleared the house, the thieves departed quietly, but we remained on our seats, saying not a syllable. Towards morning a police officer came round on his tour of inspection, and, seeing our door opened, walked in. Having searched all the rooms and found no one, he entered the apartment where we were seated, and inquired the meaning of what he saw. Neither my wife nor I would condescend to reply. The officer became angry, and ordered our heads to be cut off. The executioner's sword was just about to perform its office, when my wife cried out, 'Sir, he is my husband, spare him!' 'Oh, oh!' I exclaimed, overjoyed and clapping my hands, 'you have lost the wager; go, shut the door.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Husband and the Wife Who Made a Wager as to Who Would Eat the Pancake,India / China,"According to Brown, this is the oldest datable version of the 'Silence Wager' story. It is from the Book of the Hundred Apologues, carried to China from India by a Buddhist monk named Gunavrddhi in 492 A.D. According to Chavannes, it was composed in India by a monk named Samghasena, probably about 450 A.D.","W. Norman Brown, 'The Silence Wager Stories: Their Origin and Their Diffusion,' American Journal of Philology, vol. 43 (1922), pp. 295-96. Source: Brown's source: Édouard Chavannes, 'Le mari et sa femme qui avaient fait une convention au sujet d'une galette à manger,' Cinq cents contes et apologues extraits du Tripitaka chinois, vol. 2 (Paris: Ernest Leroux, 1911), no. 303, p. 209.","A man and his wife had three pancakes. Each ate one, but not being willing to divide the third they agreed that whichever spoke first should forfeit it to the other. Soon after, thieves entered the house; but though the couple saw them neither would make an outcry. The thieves collected their booty and then, emboldened by the house owner's unaccountable silence, picked up the woman to carry her away also. Still the husband made no sign, but the woman could stand it no longer. 'Stop, thief!' she cried, then, rebuking her husband, 'What a fool you are that for the sake of a pancake you watch these thieves without a sound!' But the husband clapped his hands and said laughing, 'Aha! wife, I win the pancake.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Obstinate Shoemaker,Denmark,"Bay does not identify his specific source for each tale in this collection, but he does state in his preface that 'the sources from which most of these stories were gathered are principally the works of the late Professor Svend Grundtvig.'","J. Christian Bay, Danish Folk Tales: A Collection of Popular Stories and Fairy Tales (New York and London: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1899), pp. 199-201.","Once upon a time there was a shoemaker who doted on pancakes. One day he asked his wife to bake him some for dinner. She replied that she was willing enough, but there was no pan in the house, and if he wished for pancakes, he had better go and borrow one from the neighbor. He complied, and at dinner he ate as rapidly as his wife could bake. When they had finished their meal, the shoemaker told his wife to carry the pan back to its owner. She refused, however, and declared that she did not like to carry back borrowed articles. As he insisted, they nearly came to blows, but finally they agreed to go to work, and the one who spoke first should return the pan to its owner. The shoemaker seated himself on his platform, sewing and handling his shoes and his leather. His wife took her seat by her spinning wheel, and soon they were working as if life depended upon their handiness. Neither uttered a sound. In a short time a squire who lived in the neighborhood, and who had given a pair of shoes to the shoemaker to repair, passed the house, bid his coachman stop, and sent his servant in, asking him to see whether his shoes were finished. The servant walked in, greeted, and delivered his errand. 'Whew, whe-ew, whe-e-e-e-e-e-ew!' whistled the shoemaker, who sat on his three-legged chair, battling with the air, and sewing diligently. As the servant could not draw a single word from him by way of answer, he turned to the woman, whose spinning wheel went so rapidly that sparks flew from it. 'How is it,' asked he, 'that your husband does not answer when I talk to him?' 'Tralalalide-lide-raderade-lidelidelidelidelide-ralala!' sang the woman at the top of her voice, spinning with all her might and looking straight into his face. The servant saw that there was nothing for him to do but return to his master in the carriage. The two people must have lost their senses! When he reached the carriage, the squire asked him if the shoes were finished. 'I don't know,' replied he. 'The shoemaker and his wife must have lost their senses. The man whistles and the woman sings, and those are all the sounds they utter. They would not say as much as one plain word.' The squire alighted to see what had happened to the persons within. 'If they pretend to make fun of their customers, I shall teach them manners,' said he to himself. 'Here they are, and here I come.' So he opened the door and walked in. The shoemaker whistled with all his might as soon as the squire opened his mouth to speak. The woman sang and shouted with all her might; but neither of them seemed to notice his question as to the shoes. At length he became vexed, seized his riding whip, and lifted it over the woman's shoulders. The shoemaker stole a glance at them, but said nothing. A minute later the whip was dancing lustily across the shoulder blades of the woman, who at once struck up a new tune, but less merry than before. But this was too much for the shoemaker. He jumped from his seat, rushed at the squire, and bid him stop. 'Ah,' exclaimed the squire. 'You are not mute. I am pleased to know that your voice is in as good working order as your fingers seem to be.' 'You spoke first,' cried the woman to her husband, 'and you must carry the pan back to our neighbor!' Now they told the squire of their quarrel and agreement, and it greatly amused him when he learned that he had settled the dispute. I do not know whether or not his shoes were finished; but that cuts no figure. I saw, however, the shoemaker when he slouched through the back yard with the pan carefully concealed under his coat. It served him right that his wife won the wager. What do you think? Bay does not identify his specific source for each tale in this collection, but he does state in his preface that 'the sources from which most of these stories were gathered are principally the works of the late Professor Svend Grundtvig.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Opium Eaters and the Open Gate,Turkey,Title provided and language cautiously modernized by D. L. Ashliman.,"Sheykh-Zada, 'The Lady's Fourteenth Story,' The History of the Forty Vezirs; or, The Story of the Forty Morns and Eves, translated by E. J. W. Gibb (London: George Redway, 1886), pp. 171-72.","Certain opium eaters, while walking about, found a sequin. They said, 'Let us go to a cook and buy food and eat.' So they went and entered a cook shop and said, 'Master, give us a sequin's worth of food.' The cook prepared all manner of foods and loaded a porter with them. And the opium eaters took him outside the city where there was a tomb [enclosed by four walls]. They entered and sat down, and the porter laid down the food and went away. The opium eaters fell to eating the food, when suddenly one of them said, 'The gate is open. Stop, one of you shut the gate, or else other opium eaters will come and trouble us. Even though they be friends, they will do the deeds of foes.' One of them replied, 'You go and shut the gate,' and they began to quarrel. At length one said, 'Come, let us agree that the one of us who first speaks shall get up and fasten the gate.' They all agreed to this proposal, and left the food and sat quite still. Suddenly a she-dog and fifteen dogs came in. Not one of the opium eaters stirred or spoke, for if one spoke, he would need to get up and shut the gate, so no one spoke. The dogs made an end of the food and ate it all up. Just then another dog leaped in from outside, but no food remained. Now one of the opium eaters had partaken of everything, and some of the food remained about his mouth and on his beard. The newly arrived dog licked up the morsels of food that were on the opium eater's breast, and while he was licking up those about his mouth he took his lip for a piece of meat and bit it. The opium eater did not stir, for he said to himself, 'They will ask me to shut the gate,' but to ease his soul, he muttered 'Ouch!' inwardly cursing the dog. When the other opium eaters heard him make that noise they said, 'Get up and fasten the gate!' He replied, 'Caution follows loss. Now that the food is gone and my lip is wounded, what need is there to shut the gate? Through negligence and folly you have let these very good things slip from your hands.' And crying 'Woe! Alas!' they went each in a different direction. translated by E. J. W. Gibb (London: George Redway, 1886), pp. 171-72. Ashliman.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Porridge Pot,Flanders,Translated by D. L. Ashliman.,"Johannes Wilhelm Wolf, Deutsche Märchen und Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1843), no. 40, pp. 158-59.","Once upon a time there were a man and a woman. One evening they did not know what to eat. Finally the man spoke, 'Wife, let us eat porridge.' 'No,' said the woman, 'for then tomorrow I would have to wash out the porridge pot, and I won't do that.' 'I won't do it either,' said the man, and they fell to quarreling who would have to wash out the porridge pot. Finally they agreed that the first one of them to speak would have to wash it out. They ate their porridge and went to bed. The next morning neither of them said anything about getting up. Seven o'clock came, eight o'clock, even twelve o'clock, and the two still lay in bed. The neighbors were concerned and said to one another, 'Robbers must have come and murdered both of them.' So they broke down the door, entered the bedroom, and told them to get up, but received no answer. Then one of the neighbors said, 'Wait, let's fetch the priest so they can say their confessions.' The priest came, but they refused to say their confessions, remaining as still as mice. The priest went home, and the two remained lying there until evening, and neither said a word. Then the priest returned and asked, 'Have they said anything yet?' 'No,' replied the neighbors. 'Then stay here and care for them!' said the priest. 'Yes, and who is going to pay us for it?' asked the neighbors. The priest answered, 'You'll be paid. There is a good coat hanging on the wall over there. Take it and sell it, and then you'll have your money.' With that the woman cried out with anger, 'What? You want to take my coat? Take your own things, but leave other people's things to them.' 'Aha,' said the man. 'Now go and wash out the porridge pot!' And so the woman had to wash out the porridge pot. Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1843), no. 40, pp. 158-59.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Silent Couple,Syria,"Beloe's source, as stated in the preface: I became possessed of these tales in the following manner. My friend Dr. Russel brought with him a small volume from Aleppo [Syria], from which, he at different times recited to me so much, that I became impatient to hear more. My importunity finally prevailed, and at various intervals his kindness induced him to dictate, in the best manner he could, from the Arabic, whilst I performed the humble office of scribe. (p. ix)","William Beloe, Miscellanies: Consisting of Poems, Classical Extracts and Oriental Apologues, vol. 3 (London: F. and C. Rivington, 1795), pp. 54-56.","A man of infamous character, one night told his wife to make haste and get supper ready; she accordingly brought to table some dry stale bread. 'Why my dear,' said he, 'who the devil can eat such dry, hard bread as that?' 'Get up and moisten it,' said she. 'No, do you,' returned the husband. 'I'll be hanged if I do,' replied the wife.' I'm fatigued, and won't stir an inch.' Thus they went on, each growing more and more obstinate, till at length it was determined by the consent of both, that whoever should speak the ?rs word, should instantly get up and moisten the bread. In this interesting situation they remained for a considerable time, when one of the neighbors accidentally came in, who had a sneaking attachment to the lady. They both looked at him attentively, but said nothing. 'Good evening,' said the visitor. They said nothing. 'What's the matter,' continued he. Why are you silent?' They said nothing. Whence he conjectured that they had laid a wager to preserve silence. 'You are a man,' said he to the husband. Why don't you speak?' He said nothing. He kissed his wife, but the man said nothing. He disgraced her, but the man said nothing. His facetious neighbor gave him a blow on the cheek, but the man said nothing. Irritated, he at length went to the justice and complained that he could, not make the man speak. He was committed to prison. Still he said nothing. The next morning he was again brought before the judge, but still said nothing. The judge ordered him to be hanged for contumacy. When the sentence was on the point of being executed, the wife appeared, and in a most pitiable tone exclaimed, ' Alas my unfortunate husband!' 'You devil,' said he, 'go home and moisten the bread.' Beloe's source, as stated in the preface:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1351,The Wager,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 95, pp. 284-85.","There was once a husband and a wife. The former said one day to the latter, 'Let us have some fritters.' She replied, 'What shall we do for a frying pan?' 'Go and borrow one from my godmother.' 'You go and get it; it is only a little way off.' 'Go yourself; I will take it back when we are done with it.' So she went and borrowed the pan, and when she returned said to her husband, 'Here is the pan, but you must carry it back.' So they cooked the fritters, and after they had eaten, the husband said, 'Now let us go to work, both of us, and the one who speaks first shall carry back the pan.' Then she began to spin and he to draw his thread -- for he was a shoemaker -- and all the time keeping silence, except that when he drew his thread he said, 'Leulerò, leulerò;' and she, spinning, answered, 'Piciciì, picicì, piciciò.' And they said not another word. Now there happened to pass that way a soldier with a horse, and he asked a woman if there was any shoemaker in that street. She said that there was one nearby, and took him to the house. The soldier asked the shoemaker to come and cut his horse a girth, and he would pay him. The latter made no answer but, 'Leulerò, leulerò;' and his wife, 'Piciciì, picicì, piciciò.' Then the soldier said, 'Come and cut my horse a girth, or I will cut your head off!' The shoemaker only answered, 'Leulerò, leulerò;' and his wife, 'Piciciì, picicì, piciciò.' Then the soldier began to grow angry, and seized his sword and said to the shoemaker, 'Either come and cut my horse a girth, or I will cut your head off!' But to no purpose. The shoemaker did not wish to be the first one to speak, and only replied, 'Leulerò, leulerò;' and his wife, 'Piciciì, picicì, piciciò.' Then the soldier got mad in good earnest, seized the shoemaker's head, and was going to cut it off. When his wife saw that, she cried out, 'Ah! don't, for mercy's sake!' 'Good!' exclaimed her husband. 'Now you go and carry the pan back to my godmother, and I will go and cut the horse's girth.' And so he did, and won the wager.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
214A,The Ass as Singer,Tibet,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Tibetan Tales Derived from Indian Sources, translated from the Tibetan of the Kah-Gyur by F. Anton von Schiefner; done into English from the German by W. R. S. Ralston (London: Trübner and Company, 1882), no. 32, pp. 232-24. Source (Internet Archive): Tibetan Tales Derived from Indian Sources, translated from the Tibetan of the Kah-Gyur by F. Anton von Schiefner; done into English from the German by W. R. S. Ralston (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, and Company, 1906), no. 32, pp. 232-24.","When in long-past times the Bodisat, in consequence of his aggregation of merits remaining incomplete, had been born in a herd of horned cattle as a bull, he used to go out of the city in the evenings to a bean-field belonging to the king, and there take his food. But by day he lived in the city. There an ass joined him. It said one day, 'O uncle, your flesh and your blood and your hide thrive, and yet I have never seen you change your abode.' The bull answered, 'O nephew, I feed at eventide in the king's bean-field.' The ass said, Uncle, I will go with you too.' The bull objected, 'O nephew, as you are wont to let your voice resound, we might run a risk.' The ass replied, 'O uncle, let us go, I will not raise my voice.' After they two had broken through the enclosure of the bean-field and reached the interior, the ass uttered no sound until it had eaten its fill. Then it said, 'Uncle, shall not I sing a little?' The bull replied, 'Wait an instant, until I have gone away. Then do just as you please.' The bull ran off, and the ass lifted up its voice. As soon as the king's people heard that, they seized the ass, and in order to punish it, as in their opinion it had devoured the whole produce of the king's bean-field, they cut off its ears, fastened a pestle to its neck, and then set it free. As it wandered to and fro, the bull saw it, and pronounced this verse: 'Excellently hast thou sung forsooth, and therefore obtained thy recompense. In consequence of thy song I also well-nigh lost my ears. He who knows not how to keep his word, to him may easily happen some such thing as this; to wander to and fro, adorned with a club and destitute of ears.' The ass also gave utterance to a verse: 'Keep silence thou with broken teeth, be silent then, O old bull; for three men are searching for thee with clubs in their hands.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
214A,The Four Associates,Pakistan,The episode of the animal escaping capture by playing dead is categorized Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 33.,"Source (books.google.com): Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment: Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 12, pp. 15-17. Source (Internet Archive): Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment: Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 12, pp. 15-17.","Once upon a time a crow, a jackal, a hyena, and a camel swore a friendship, and agreed to seek their food in common. Said the camel to the crow, 'Friend, you can fly. Go forth and reconnoiter the country for us.' So the crow flew away from tree to tree until he came to a fine field of muskmelons, and then he returned and reported the fact to his companions. 'You,' said he to the camel, 'can eat the leaves, but the fruit must be the share of the jackal, the hyena, and myself.' When it was night all four visited the field and began to make a hearty supper. Suddenly the owner woke up and rushed to the rescue. The crow, the jackal, and the hyena easily escaped, but the camel was caught and driven out with cruel blows. Overtaking his comrades, he said, 'Pretty partners you are, to leave your friend in the lurch!' Said the jackal, 'We were surprised. But cheer up. Tonight we'll stand by you and won't allow you to be thrashed again!' The next day the owner, as a precaution, covered his field with nets and nooses. At midnight the four friends returned again, and began devouring as before. The crow, the jackal, and the hyena soon had eaten their fill, but not so the camel, who had hardly satisfied the cravings of hunger when the jackal suddenly remarked, 'Camel, I fell a strong inclination to bark.' 'For heaven's sake don't,' said the camel. 'You'll bring up the owner, and then while you all escape I shall be thrashed again.' 'Bark I must,' replied the jackal, who set up a dismal yell. Out from his hut ran the owner. But it happened that while the camel, the crow, and the jackal succeeded in getting away, the stupid hyena was caught in a net. 'Friends! Friends!' cried he. 'Are you going to abandon me? I shall be killed!' 'Obey my directions,' said the crow, 'and all will be right.' 'What shall I do?' asked the hyena. 'Lie down and pretend to be dead,' said the crow, 'and the owner will merely throw you out, after which you can run away.' He had hardly spoken when the owner came to the spot, and seeing what he believed to be a dead hyena, he seized him by the hind legs and threw him out of the field, when at once the delighted hyena sprang to his feet and trotted away. 'Ah!' said the man. 'That rascal was not dead after all.' When the four associates met again, the camel said to the jackal, 'Your barking, friend, might have got me another beating. Never mind. All's well that ends well. Today yours, tomorrow mine.' Some time afterwards the camel said, 'Jackal, I'm going out for a walk. If you will get on my back I will give you a ride, and you can see the world.' The jackal agreed, and, stooping down, the camel allowed him to mount on his back. As they were going along they came to a village, whereupon all the dogs rushed out and began barking furiously at the jackal, whom they eyed on the camel's back. Then said the camel to the jackal, 'O jackal, I feel a strong inclination to roll.' 'For heaven's sake, don't!' pleaded the jackal. 'I shall be worried.' 'Roll I must,' replied the camel, and he rolled, while the village dogs fell on the jackal before he could escape, and tore him to pieces. Then the camel returned and reported the traitor's death to his friends, who mightily approved the deed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
214A,The Musical Donkey,India (The Panchatantra),NA,"Source (Internet Archive): The Panchatantra, translated from the Sanskrit by Arthur W. Ryder (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), pp. 446-49. Source (wikisource): The Panchatantra, translated from the Sanskrit by Arthur W. Ryder (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), book 5, pp. 446-49.","In a certain town was a donkey named Prig. In the daytime he carried laundry packages, but was at liberty to wander anywhere at night. One night while wandering in the fields he fell in with a jackal and made friends. So the two broke through a hedge into cucumber-beds, and having eaten what they could hold of that comestible, parted at dawn to go home. One night the egotistical donkey, standing among the cucumbers, said to the jackal: 'See, nephew! The night is marvelously fine. I will contribute a song. What sentiment shall my song express?' 'Don't, uncle,' said the jackal. 'It might make trouble, seeing that we are on thieves' business. Thieves and lovers should keep very quiet. As the proverb says: No sleepyhead should pilfer fur, No invalid, rich provender, No sneezer should become a thief -- Unless they wish to come to grief. 'Besides, your vocal music is not agreeable, since it resembles a blast on a conch-shell. The farmers would hear you from afar, would rise, and would fetter or kill you. Better keep quiet and eat.' 'Come, come!' said the donkey. 'Your remarks prove that you live in the woods and have no musical taste. Did you never hear this? Oh, bliss if murmurs sweet to hear Of music's nectar woo your ear When darkness flees from moonlight clear In autumn, and your love is near.' 'Very true, uncle,' said the jackal. 'But your bray is harsh. Why do a thing that defeats your own purpose?' 'Fool, fool!' answered the donkey. 'Do you think me ignorant of vocal music? Listen to its systematization, as follows: Seven notes, three scales, and twenty-one Are modulations said to be; Of pitches there are forty-nine, Three measures, also pauses three; Caesuras three; and thirty-six Arrangements of the notes, in fine; Six apertures; the languages Are forty; sentiments are nine. One hundred songs and eighty-five Are found in songbooks, perfect, pure, With all accessories complete, Unblemished in their phrasing sure. On earth is nothing nobler found, Nor yet in heaven, than vocal song; The singing Devil soothes the Lord, When quivering strings the sound prolong. 'After this, how can you think me lacking in educated taste? How can you try to hinder me?' 'Very well, uncle,' said the jackal. 'I will stay by the gap in the hedge, and look for farmers. You may sing to heart's content.' When he had done so, the donkey lifted his neck and began to utter sounds. But the farmers, hearing the bray of a donkey, angrily clenched their teeth, snatched cudgels, rushed in, and beat him so that he fell to the ground. Next they hobbled him by fastening on his neck a mortar with a convenient hole, then went to sleep. Presently the donkey stood up, forgetting the pain as donkeys naturally do. As the verse puts it: With dog, and ass, and horse, And donkey more than most, The pain from beatings is Immediately lost. Then with the mortar on his neck, he trampled the hedge and started to run away. At this moment the jackal, looking on from a safe distance, said with a smile: Well sung, uncle! Why would you Not stop when I told you to? What a necklace! Yes, you wear Music medals rich and rare. 'Just so, you would not stop when I advised it.' After listening to this, the wheel-bearer said: 'O my friend, you are quite right. Yes, there is much wisdom in the verse: He who, lacking wit, does not Harken to a friend, Just like weaver Slow, inclines To a fatal end.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
214A,The Turtle and the Lizard,Philippines (Tinguian),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Fay-Cooper Cole, Traditions of the Tinguians: A Study in Philippine Folk-Lore (Chicago: Field Museum of Natural History, 1915), no. 78, p. 196. Source (Internet Archive): Fay-Cooper Cole, Traditions of the Tinguians: A Study in Philippine Folk-Lore (Chicago: Field Museum of Natural History, 1915), no. 78, p. 196.","When they got there the turtle told the lizard he must be very still, but when the lizard tasted the ginger, he exclaimed, 'The ginger of Gotgotapa is very good.' 'Be still,' said the turtle, but again the lizard shouted louder than before. Then the man heard and came out of his house to catch the robbers. The turtle could not run fast, so he lay very still, and the man did not see him. But the lizard ran, and the man chased him. When they were very far, the turtle went into the house. Now the man had a coconut shell which he used to sit on, and the turtle hid under it. The man could not catch the lizard, so in a while he came back to his house and sat on the shell. By and by, the turtle called 'Kook.' Then the man jumped up and looked all around to find where the noise came from, but he could not find out. The turtle called 'Kook' again, and the man tried very hard to find what made the noise. The turtle called a third time more loudly, and then the man thought it was his testicles which made the noise, so he took a stone and hit them. Then he died, and the turtle ran away. When the turtle got a long way, he met the lizard again, and they saw some honey on the branch of a tree. 'I run first to get,' said the turtle; but the big lizard ran fast and seized the honey. Then the bees stung him, and he ran back to the turtle. On the road they saw a bird snare. The turtle said, 'That is the paliget [a gold or silver wire worn by women or men about their necks] of my grandfather.' Then the lizard ran very fast to get it, but it caught his neck and held him until the man who owned it came and killed him. Then the turtle went away. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
214A,Tit for Tat,India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Mary Frere, Old Deccan Days; or, Hindoo Fairy Legends Current in Southern India, (London: John Murray, 1868), no. 13, pp. 195-97. Source (Internet Archive): Mary Frere, Old Deccan Days; or, Hindoo Fairy Legends Current in Southern India, (London: John Murray, 1868), no. 13, pp. 195-97.","There once lived a camel and a jackal who were great friends. One day the jackal said to the camel, 'I know that there is a fine field of sugarcane on the other side of the river. If you will take me across I'll show you the place. This plan will suit me as well as you. You will enjoy eating the sugarcane, and I am sure to find many crabs, bones, and bits of fish by the riverside, on which to make a good dinner.' The camel consented, and swam across the river, taking the jackal, who could not swim, on his back. When they reached the other side, the camel went to eat the sugarcane, and the jackal ran up and down the riverbank devouring all the crabs, bits of fish, and bones he could find. But being so much smaller an animal, he had made an excellent meal before the camel had eaten more than two or three mouthfuls; and no sooner had he finished his dinner, than he ran round and round the sugarcane field, yelping and howling with all his might. The villagers heard him, and thought, 'There is a jackal among the sugarcanes. He will be scratching holes in the ground, and spoiling the roots of the plants.' And they went down to the place to drive him away. But when they got there, they found to their surprise not only a jackal, but a camel who was eating the sugarcanes! This made them very angry, and they caught the poor camel, and drove him from the field, and beat him until he was nearly dead. When they had gone, the jackal said to the camel, 'We had better go home.' And the camel said, 'Very well, then, jump upon my back as you did before.' So the jackal jumped upon the camel's back, and the camel began to recross the river. When they had got well into the water, the camel said, 'This is a pretty way in which you have treated me, friend jackal. No sooner had you finished your own dinner than you must go yelping about the place loud enough to arouse the whole village, and bring all the villagers down to beat me black and blue, and turn me out of the field before I had eaten two mouthfuls! What in the world did you make such a noise for?' 'I don't know,' said the jackal 'It is a custom I have. I always like to sing a little after dinner.' The camel waded on through the river. The water reached up to his knees -- then above them -- up, up, up, higher and higher, until he was obliged to swim. Then turning to the jackal, he said, 'I feel very anxious to roll.' 'Oh, pray don't. Why do you wish to do so?' asked the jackal. 'I don't know,' answered the camel. 'It is a custom I have. I always like to have a little roll after dinner.' So saying, he rolled over in the water, shaking the jackal off as he did so. And the jackal was drowned, but the camel swam safely ashore.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
410,Little Brier-Rose,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,In some versions (including later Grimm editions) the harbinger of pregnancy is a frog.,"Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed., vol. 1 (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 50, pp. 225-29.","A king and queen had no children, although they wanted one very much. Then one day while the queen was sitting in her bath, a crab crept out of the water onto the ground and said, 'Your wish will soon be fulfilled, and you will bring a daughter into the world.' And that is what happened. The king was so happy about the birth of the princess that he held a great celebration. He also invited the fairies who lived in his kingdom, but because he had only twelve golden plates, one had to be left out, for there were thirteen of them. The fairies came to the celebration, and as it was ending they presented the child with gifts. The one promised her virtue, the second one gave beauty, and so on, each one offering something desirable and magnificent. The eleventh fairy had just presented her gift when the thirteenth fairy walked in. She was very angry that she had not been invited and cried out, 'Because you did not invite me, I tell you that in her fifteenth year, your daughter will prick herself with a spindle and fall over dead.' The parents were horrified, but the twelfth fairy, who had not yet offered her wish, said, 'It shall not be her death. She will only fall into a hundred-year sleep.' The king, hoping to rescue his dear child, issued an order that all spindles in the entire kingdom should be destroyed. The princess grew and became a miracle of beauty. One day, when she had just reached her fifteenth year, the king and queen went away, leaving her all alone in the castle. She walked from room to room, following her heart's desire. Finally she came to an old tower. A narrow stairway led up to it. Being curious, she climbed up until she came to a small door. There was a small yellow key in the door. She turned it, and the door sprang open. She found herself in a small room where an old woman sat spinning flax. She was attracted to the old woman, and joked with her, and said that she too would like to try her hand at spinning. She picked up the spindle, but no sooner did she touch it, than she pricked herself with it and then fell down into a deep sleep. At that same moment the king and his attendants returned, and everyone began to fall asleep: the horses in the stalls, the pigeons on the roof, the dogs in the courtyard, the flies on the walls. Even the fire on the hearth flickered, stopped moving, and fell asleep. The roast stopped sizzling. The cook let go of the kitchen boy, whose hair he was about to pull. The maid dropped the chicken that she was plucking. They all slept. And a thorn hedge grew up around the entire castle, growing higher and higher, until nothing at all could be seen of it. Princes, who had heard about the beautiful Brier-Rose, came and tried to free her, but they could not penetrate the hedge. It was as if the thorns were firmly attached to hands. The princes became stuck in them, and they died miserably. And thus it continued for many long years. Then one day a prince was traveling through the land. An old man told him about the belief that there was a castle behind the thorn hedge, with a wonderfully beautiful princess asleep inside with all of her attendants. His grandfather had told him that many princes had tried to penetrate the hedge, but that they had gotten stuck in the thorns and had been pricked to death. 'I'm not afraid of that,' said the prince. 'I shall penetrate the hedge and free the beautiful Brier-Rose.' He went forth, but when he came to the thorn hedge, it turned into flowers. They separated, and he walked through, but after he passed, they turned back into thorns. He went into the castle. Horses and colorful hunting dogs were asleep in the courtyard. Pigeons, with their little heads stuck under they wings, were sitting on the roof. As he walked inside, the flies on the wall, the fire in the kitchen, the cook and the maid were all asleep. He walked further. All the attendants were asleep; and still further, the king and the queen. It was so quiet that he could hear his own breath. Finally he came to the old tower where Brier-Rose was lying asleep. The prince was so amazed at her beauty that he bent over and kissed her. At that moment she awoke, and with her the king and the queen, and all the attendants, and the horses and the dogs, and the pigeons on the roof, and the flies on the walls. The fire stood up and flickered, and then finished cooking the food. The roast sizzled away. The cook boxed the kitchen boy's ears. And the maid finished plucking the chicken. Then the prince and Brier-Rose got married, and they lived long and happily until they died. no. 50, pp. 225-29. pregnancy is a frog.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
410,"Sun, Moon, and Talia",Giambattista Basile,"Giambattista Basile was born about 1575 in Naples and died 1632 in Giugliano, Campania. His Lo cunto de li cunti (The Story of Stories) was published in 1634, and named Il pentamerone because of its similarity to Boccaccio's Decamerone. The framework of Lo cunto de li cunti provides a context for ten women to tell one story each every day for five days. The fifty resulting stories, all based on oral tradition, comprise one of the monumental folktale collections of all time.","The Pentameron of Giambattista Basile, translated by Richard F. Burton (Privately printed, 1893), day 5, tale 5. Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman.","There once lived a great lord, who was blessed with the birth of a daughter, whom he named Talia. He sent for the wise men and astrologers in his lands, to predict her future. They met, counseled together, and cast her horoscope, and at length they came to the conclusion that she would incur great danger from a splinter of flax. Her father therefore forbade that any flax, hemp, or any other material of that sort be brought into his house, so that she should escape the predestined danger. One day, when Talia had grown into a young and beautiful lady, she was looking out of a window, when she beheld passing that way an old woman, who was spinning. Talia, never having seen a distaff or a spindle, was pleased to see the twirling spindle, and she was so curious as to what thing it was, that she asked the old woman to come to her. Taking the distaff from her hand, she began to stretch the flax. Unfortunately, Talia ran a splinter of flax under her nail, and she fell dead upon the ground. When the old woman saw this, she became frightened and ran down the stairs, and is running still. As soon as the wretched father heard of the disaster which had taken place, he had them, after having paid for this tub of sour wine with casks of tears, lay her out in one of his country mansions. There they seated her on a velvet throne under a canopy of brocade. Wanting to forget all and to drive from his memory his great misfortune, he closed the doors and abandoned forever the house where he had suffered this great loss. After a time, it happened by chance that a king was out hunting and passed that way. One of his falcons escaped from his hand and flew into the house by way of one of the windows. It did not come when called, so the king had one of his party knock at the door, believing the palace to be inhabited. Although he knocked for a length of time, nobody answered, so the king had them bring a vintner's ladder, for he himself would climb up and search the house, to discover what was inside. Thus he climbed up and entered, and looked in all the rooms, and nooks, and corners, and was amazed to find no living person there. At last he came to the salon, and when the king beheld Talia, who seemed to be enchanted, he believed that she was asleep, and he called her, but she remained unconscious. Crying aloud, he beheld her charms and felt his blood course hotly through his veins. He lifted her in his arms, and carried her to a bed, where he gathered the first fruits of love. Leaving her on the bed, he returned to his own kingdom, where, in the pressing business of his realm, he for a time thought no more about this incident. Now after nine months Talia delivered two beautiful children, one a boy and the other a girl. In them could be seen two rare jewels, and they were attended by two fairies, who came to that palace, and put them at their mother's breasts. Once, however, they sought the nipple, and not finding it, began to suck on Talia's fingers, and they sucked so much that the splinter of flax came out. Talia awoke as if from a long sleep, and seeing beside her two priceless gems, she held them to her breast, and gave them the nipple to suck, and the babies were dearer to her than her own life. Finding herself alone in that palace with two children by her side, she did not know what had happened to her; but she did notice that the table was set, and food and drink were brought in to her, although she did not see any attendants. In the meanwhile the king remembered Talia, and saying that he wanted to go hunting, he returned to the palace, and found her awake, and with two cupids of beauty. He was overjoyed, and he told Talia who he was, and how he had seen her, and what had taken place. When she heard this, their friendship was knitted with tighter bonds, and he remained with her for a few days. After that time he bade her farewell, and promised to return soon, and take her with him to his kingdom. And he went to his realm, but he could not find any rest, and at all hours he had in his mouth the names of Talia, and of Sun and Moon (those were the two children's names), and when he took his rest, he called either one or other of them. Now the king's wife began to suspect that something was wrong from the delay of her husband while hunting, and hearing him name continually Talia, Sun, and Moon, she became hot with another kind of heat than the sun's. Sending for the secretary, she said to him, 'Listen to me, my son, you are living between two rocks, between the post and the door, between the poker and the grate. If you will tell me with whom the king your master, and my husband, is in love, I will give you treasures untold; and if you hide the truth from me, you will never be found again, dead or alive.' The man was terribly frightened. Greed and fear blinded his eyes to all honor and to all sense of justice, and he related to her all things, calling bread bread, and wine wine. The queen, hearing how matters stood, sent the secretary to Talia, in the name of the king, asking her to send the children, for he wished to see them. Talia, with great joy, did as she was commanded. Then the queen, with a heart of Medea, told the cook to kill them, and to make them into several tasteful dishes for her wretched husband. But the cook was tender hearted and, seeing these two beautiful golden apples, felt pity and compassion for them, and he carried them home to his wife, and had her hide them. In their place he prepared two lambs into a hundred different dishes. When the king came, the queen, with great pleasure, had the food served. The king ate with delight, saying, 'By the life of Lanfusa, how tasteful this is'; or, 'By the soul of my ancestors, this is good.' Each time she replied, 'Eat, eat, you are eating of your own.' For two or three times the king paid no attention to this repetition, but at last seeing that the music continued, he answered, 'I know perfectly well that I am eating of my own, because you have brought nothing into this house'; and growing angry, he got up and went to a villa at some distance from his palace, to solace his soul and alleviate his anger. In the meanwhile the queen, not being satisfied of the evil already done, sent for the secretary and told him to go to the palace and to bring Talia back, saying that the king longed for her presence and was expecting her. Talia departed as soon as she heard these words, believing that she was following the commands of her lord, for she greatly longed to see her light and joy, knowing not what was preparing for her. She was met by the queen, whose face glowed from the fierce fire burning inside her, and looked like the face of Nero. She addressed her thus, 'Welcome, Madam Busybody! You are a fine piece of goods, you ill weed, who are enjoying my husband. So you are the lump of filth, the cruel bitch, that has caused my head to spin? Change your ways, for you are welcome in purgatory, where I will compensate you for all the damage you have done to me.' Talia, hearing these words, began to excuse herself, saying that it was not her fault, because the king her husband had taken possession of her territory when she was drowned in sleep; but the queen would not listen to her excuses, and had a large fire lit in the courtyard of the palace, and commanded that Talia should be cast into it. The lady, perceiving that matters had taken a bad turn, knelt before the queen, and begged her to allow her at least to take off the garments she wore. The queen, not for pity of the unhappy lady, but to gain also those robes, which were embroidered with gold and pearls, told her to undress, saying, 'You can take off your clothes. I agree.' Talia began to take them off, and with every item that she removed she uttered a loud scream. Having taken off her robe, her skirt, the bodice, and her shift, she was on the point of removing her last garment, when she uttered a last scream louder than the rest. They dragged her towards the pile, to reduce her to lye ashes which would be used to wash Charon's breeches. The king suddenly appeared, and finding this spectacle, demanded to know what was happening. He asked for his children, and his wife -- reproaching him for his treachery -- told him that she had had them slaughtered and served to him as meat. When the wretched king heard this, he gave himself up to despair, saying, 'Alas! Then I, myself, am the wolf of my own sweet lambs. Alas! And why did these my veins know not the fountains of their own blood? You renegade bitch, what evil deed is this which you have done? Begone, you shall get your desert as the stumps, and I will not send such a tyrant-faced one to the Colosseum to do her penance!' So saying, he commanded that the queen should be cast into the fire which she had prepared for Talia, and the secretary with her, because he had been the handle for this bitter play, and weaver of this wicked plot. He was going to do the same with the cook, whom he believed to be the slaughterer of his children, when the man cast himself at his feet, saying, 'In truth, my lord, for such a deed, there should be nothing else than a pile of living fire, and no other help than a spear from behind, and no other entertainment than twisting and turning within the blazing fire, and I should seek no other honor than to have my ashes, the ashes of a cook, mixed up with the queen's. But this is not the reward that I expect for having saved the children, in spite of the gall of that bitch, who wanted to kill them and to return to your body that which was of your own body.' Hearing these words, the king was beside himself. He thought he was dreaming, and he could not believe what his own ears had heard. Therefore, turning to the cook, he said, 'If it is true that you have saved my children, be sure that I will take you away from turning the spit, and I will put you in the kitchen of this breast, to turn and twist as you like all my desires, giving you such a reward as shall enable you to call yourself a happy man in this world.' While the king spoke these words, the cook's wife, seeing her husband's need, brought forth the two children, Sun and Moon, before their father. And he never tired at playing the game of three with his wife and children, making a mill wheel of kisses, now with one and then with the other. He gave a generous reward to the cook, he made him a chamberlain. He married Talia to wife; and she enjoyed a long life with her husband and her children, thus experiencing the truth of the proverb:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
410,The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood,Charles Perrault,"Lang's source: Charles Perrault, Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralitéz (Paris, 1697). The title of this tale in French is 'La belle au bois dormant.' Lang edited a critical edition (in the original French, but with an English title): Perrault's Popular Tales, edited from the original editions, with introduction, etc. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1888). The tale 'La belle au bois dormant' is found on pp. 7-19.","Andrew Lang, The Blue Fairy Book, 5th ed. (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1891), pp. 54-63. I have carefully modernized the spelling and punctuation. The translation of the verse moral (omitted by Lang) comes from Perrault's Fairy Tales, translated by S. R. Littlewood (London: Herbert and Daniel, 1912).","There were formerly a king and a queen, who were so sorry that they had no children; so sorry that it cannot be expressed. They went to all the waters in the world; vows, pilgrimages, all ways were tried, and all to no purpose. At last, however, the queen had a daughter. There was a very fine christening; and the princess had for her godmothers all the fairies they could find in the whole kingdom (they found seven), that every one of them might give her a gift, as was the custom of fairies in those days. By this means the princess had all the perfections imaginable. After the ceremonies of the christening were over, all the company returned to the king's palace, where was prepared a great feast for the fairies. There was placed before every one of them a magnificent cover with a case of massive gold, wherein were a spoon, knife, and fork, all of pure gold set with diamonds and rubies. But as they were all sitting down at table they saw come into the hall a very old fairy, whom they had not invited, because it was above fifty years since she had been out of a certain tower, and she was believed to be either dead or enchanted. The king ordered her a cover, but could not furnish her with a case of gold as the others, because they had only seven made for the seven fairies. The old fairy fancied she was slighted, and muttered some threats between her teeth. One of the young fairies who sat by her overheard how she grumbled; and, judging that she might give the little princess some unlucky gift, went, as soon as they rose from table, and hid herself behind the hangings, that she might speak last, and repair, as much as she could, the evil which the old fairy might intend. In the meanwhile all the fairies began to give their gifts to the princess. The youngest gave her for gift that she should be the most beautiful person in the world; the next, that she should have the wit of an angel; the third, that she should have a wonderful grace in everything she did; the fourth, that she should dance perfectly well; the fifth, that she should sing like a nightingale; and the sixth, that she should play all kinds of music to the utmost perfection. The old fairy's turn coming next, with a head shaking more with spite than age, she said that the princess should have her hand pierced with a spindle and die of the wound. This terrible gift made the whole company tremble, and everybody fell a crying. At this very instant the young fairy came out from behind the hangings, and spake these words aloud: 'Assure yourselves, O King and Queen, that your daughter shall not die of this disaster. It is true, I have no power to undo entirely what my elder has done. The princess shall indeed pierce her hand with a spindle; but, instead of dying, she shall only fall into a profound sleep, which shall last a hundred years, at the expiration of which a king's son shall come and awake her.' The king, to avoid the misfortune foretold by the old fairy, caused immediately proclamation to be made, whereby everybody was forbidden, on pain of death, to spin with a distaff and spindle, or to have so much as any spindle in their houses. About fifteen or sixteen years after, the king and queen being gone to one of their houses of pleasure, the young princess happened one day to divert herself in running up and down the palace; when going up from one apartment to another, she came into a little room on the top of the tower, where a good old woman, alone, was spinning with her spindle. This good woman had never heard of the king's proclamation against spindles. 'What are you doing there, goody?' said the princess. 'I am spinning, my pretty child,' said the old woman, who did not know who she was. 'Ha!' said the princess, 'this is very pretty; how do you do it? Give it to me, that I may see if I can do so.' She had no sooner taken it into her hand than, whether being very hasty at it, somewhat unhandy, or that the decree of the fairy had so ordained it, it ran into her hand, and she fell down in a swoon. The good old woman, not knowing very well what to do in this affair, cried out for help. People came in from every quarter in great numbers; they threw water upon the princess's face, unlaced her, struck her on the palms of her hands, and rubbed her temples with Hungary-water; but nothing would bring her to herself. And now the king, who came up at the noise, bethought himself of the prediction of the fairies, and, judging very well that this must necessarily come to pass, since the fairies had said it, caused the princess to be carried into the finest apartment in his palace, and to be laid upon a bed all embroidered with gold and silver. One would have taken her for a little angel, she was so very beautiful; for her swooning away had not diminished one bit of her complexion; her cheeks were carnation, and her lips were coral; indeed, her eyes were shut, but she was heard to breathe softly, which satisfied those about her that she was not dead. The king commanded that they should not disturb her, but let her sleep quietly till her hour of awaking was come. The good fairy who had saved her life by condemning her to sleep a hundred years was in the kingdom of Matakin, twelve thousand leagues off, when this accident befell the princess; but she was instantly informed of it by a little dwarf, who had boots of seven leagues, that is, boots with which he could tread over seven leagues of ground in one stride. The fairy came away immediately, and she arrived, about an hour after, in a fiery chariot drawn by dragons. The king handed her out of the chariot, and she approved everything he had done, but as she had very great foresight, she thought when the princess should awake she might not know what to do with herself, being all alone in this old palace; and this was what she did: she touched with her wand everything in the palace (except the king and queen) -- governesses, maids of honor, ladies of the bedchamber, gentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks, undercooks, scullions, guards, with their beefeaters, pages, footmen; she likewise touched all the horses which were in the stables, pads as well as others, the great dogs in the outward court and pretty little Mopsey too, the princess's little spaniel, which lay by her on the bed. Immediately upon her touching them they all fell asleep, that they might not awake before their mistress and that they might be ready to wait upon her when she wanted them. The very spits at the fire, as full as they could hold of partridges and pheasants, did fall asleep also. All this was done in a moment. Fairies are not long in doing their business. And now the king and the queen, having kissed their dear child without waking her, went out of the palace and put forth a proclamation that nobody should dare to come near it. This, however, was not necessary, for in a quarter of an hour's time there grew up all round about the park such a vast number of trees, great and small, bushes and brambles, twining one within another, that neither man nor beast could pass through; so that nothing could be seen but the very top of the towers of the palace; and that, too, not unless it was a good way off. Nobody; doubted but the fairy gave herein a very extraordinary sample of her art, that the princess, while she continued sleeping, might have nothing to fear from any curious people. When a hundred years were gone and passed the son of the king then reigning, and who was of another family from that of the sleeping princess, being gone a hunting on that side of the country, asked: What those towers were which he saw in the middle of a great thick wood? Everyone answered according as they had heard. Some said that it was a ruinous old castle, haunted by spirits. Others, that all the sorcerers and witches of the country kept there their sabbath or night's meeting. The common opinion was that an ogre lived there, and that he carried thither all the little children he could catch, that he might eat them up at his leisure, without anybody being able to follow him, as having himself only the power to pass through the wood. The prince was at a stand, not knowing what to believe, when a very good countryman spake to him thus: 'May it please your royal highness, it is now about fifty years since I heard from my father, who heard my grandfather say, that there was then in this castle a princess, the most beautiful was ever seen; that she must sleep there a hundred years, and should be waked by a king's son, for whom she was reserved.' The young prince was all on fire at these words, believing, without weighing the matter, that he could put an end to this rare adventure; and, pushed on by love and honor, resolved that moment to look into it. Scarce had he advanced toward the wood when all the great trees, the bushes, and brambles gave way of themselves to let him pass through; he walked up to the castle which he saw at the end of a large avenue which he went into; and what a little surprised him was that he saw none of his people could follow him, because the trees closed again as soon as he had passed through them. However, he did not cease from continuing his way; a young and amorous prince is always valiant. He came into a spacious outward court, where everything he saw might have frozen the most fearless person with horror. There reigned all over a most frightful silence; the image of death everywhere showed itself, and there was nothing to be seen but stretched-out bodies of men and animals, all seeming to be dead. He, however, very well knew, by the ruby faces and pimpled noses of the beefeaters, that they were only asleep; and their goblets, wherein still remained some drops of wine, showed plainly that they fell asleep in their cups. He then crossed a court paved with marble, went up the stairs and came into the guard chamber, where guards were standing in their ranks, with their muskets upon their shoulders, and snoring as loud as they could. After that he went through several rooms full of gentlemen and ladies, all asleep, some standing, others sitting. At last he came into a chamber all gilded with gold, where he saw upon a bed, the curtains of which were all open, the finest sight was ever beheld -- a princess, who appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years of age, and whose bright and, in a manner, resplendent beauty, had somewhat in it divine. He approached with trembling and admiration, and fell down before her upon his knees. And now, as the enchantment was at an end, the princess awaked, and looking on him with eyes more tender than the first view might seem to admit of. 'Is it you, my prince?' said she to him. 'You have waited a long while.' The prince, charmed with these words, and much more with the manner in which they were spoken, knew not how to show his joy and gratitude; he assured her that he loved her better than he did himself; their discourse was not well connected, they did weep more than talk -- little eloquence, a great deal of love. He was more at a loss than she, and we need not wonder at it; she had time to think on what to say to him; for it is very probable (though history mentions nothing of it) that the good fairy, during so long a sleep, had given her very agreeable dreams. In short, they talked four hours together, and yet they said not half what they had to say. In the meanwhile all the palace awaked; everyone thought upon their particular business, and as all of them were not in love they were ready to die for hunger. The chief lady of honor, being as sharp set as other folks, grew very impatient, and told the princess aloud that supper was served up. The prince helped the princess to rise; she was entirely dressed, and very magnificently, but his royal highness took care not to tell her that she was dressed like his great-grandmother, and had a point band peeping over a high collar; she looked not a bit less charming and beautiful for all that. They went into the great hall of looking-glasses, where they supped, and were served by the princess's officers, the violins and hautboys played old tunes, but very excellent, though it was now above a hundred years since they had played; and after supper, without losing any time, the lord almoner married them in the chapel of the castle, and the chief lady of honor drew the curtains. They had but very little sleep -- the princess had no occasion; and the prince left her next morning to return to the city, where his father must needs have been in pain for him. The prince told him that he lost his way in the forest as he was hunting, and that he had lain in the cottage of a charcoal burner, who gave him cheese and brown bread. The king, his father, who was a good man, believed him; but his mother could not be persuaded it was true; and seeing that he went almost every day a hunting, and that he always had some excuse ready for so doing, though he had lain out three or four nights together, she began to suspect that he was married, for he lived with the princess above two whole years, and had by her two children, the eldest of which, who was a daughter, was named Morning, and the youngest, who was a son, they called Day, because he was a great deal handsomer and more beautiful than his sister. The queen spoke several times to her son, to inform herself after what manner he did pass his time, and that in this he ought in duty to satisfy her. But he never dared to trust her with his secret; he feared her, though he loved her, for she was of the race of the ogres, and the king would never have married her had it not been for her vast riches; it was even whispered about the court that she had ogreish inclinations, and that, whenever she saw little children passing by, she had all the difficulty in the world to avoid falling upon them. And so the prince would never tell her one word. But when the king was dead, which happened about two years afterward, and he saw himself lord and master, he openly declared his marriage; and he went in great ceremony to conduct his queen to the palace. They made a magnificent entry into the capital city, she riding between her two children. Soon after, the king went to make war with the Emperor Contalabutte, his neighbor. He left the government of the kingdom to the queen his mother, and earnestly recommended to her care his wife and children. He was obliged to continue his expedition all the summer, and as soon as he departed the queen mother sent her daughter-in-law to a country house among the woods, that she might with the more ease gratify her horrible longing. Some few days afterward she went thither herself, and said to her clerk of the kitchen: 'I have a mind to eat little Morning for my dinner tomorrow.' 'Ah! madam,' cried the clerk of the kitchen. 'I will have it so,' replied the queen (and this she spoke in the tone of an ogress who had a strong desire to eat fresh meat), 'and will eat her with a sauce Robert.' The poor man, knowing very well that he must not play tricks with ogresses, took his great knife and went up into little Morning's chamber. She was then four years old, and came up to him jumping and laughing, to take him about the neck, and ask him for some sugar candy. Upon which he began to weep, the great knife fell out of his hand, and he went into the back yard, and killed a little lamb, and dressed it with such good sauce that his mistress assured him that she had never eaten anything so good in her life. He had at the same time taken up little Morning, and carried her to his wife, to conceal her in the lodging he had at the bottom of the courtyard. About eight days afterward the wicked queen said to the clerk of the kitchen, 'I will sup on little Day.' He answered not a word, being resolved to cheat her as he had done before. He went to find out little Day, and saw him with a little foil in his hand, with which he was fencing with a great monkey, the child being then only three years of age. He took him up in his arms and carried him to his wife, that she might conceal him in her chamber along with his sister, and in the room of little Day cooked up a young kid, very tender, which the ogress found to be wonderfully good. This was hitherto all mighty well; but one evening this wicked queen said to her clerk of the kitchen, 'I will eat the queen with the same sauce I had with her children.' It was now that the poor clerk of the kitchen despaired of being able to deceive her. The young queen was turned of twenty, not reckoning the hundred years she had been asleep; and how to find in the yard a beast so firm was what puzzled him. He took then a resolution, that he might save his own life, to cut the queen's throat; and going up into her chamber, with intent to do it at once, he put himself into as great fury as he could possibly, and came into the young queen's room with his dagger in his hand. He would not, however, surprise her, but told her, with a great deal of respect, the orders he had received from the queen mother. 'Do it; do it' (said she, stretching out her neck). 'Execute your orders, and then I shall go and see my children, my poor children, whom I so much and so tenderly loved,' for she thought them dead ever since they had been taken away without her knowledge. 'No, no, madam' (cried the poor clerk of the kitchen, all in tears); 'you shall not die, and yet you shall see your children again; but then you must go home with me to my lodgings, where I have concealed them, and I shall deceive the queen once more, by giving her in your stead a young hind.' Upon this he forthwith conducted her to his chamber, where, leaving her to embrace her children, and cry along with them, he went and dressed a young hind, which the queen had for her supper, and devoured it with the same appetite as if it had been the young queen. Exceedingly was she delighted with her cruelty, and she had invented a story to tell the king, at his return, how the mad wolves had eaten up the queen his wife and her two children. One evening, as she was, according to her custom, rambling round about the courts and yards of the palace to see if she could smell any fresh meat, she heard, in a ground room, little Day crying, for his mamma was going to whip him, because he had been naughty; and she heard, at the same time, little Morning begging pardon for her brother. The ogress presently knew the voice of the queen and her children, and being quite mad that she had been thus deceived, she commanded next morning, by break of day (with a most horrible voice, which made everybody tremble), that they should bring into the middle of the great court a large tub, which she caused to be filled with toads, vipers, snakes, and all sorts of serpents, in order to have thrown into it the queen and her children, the clerk of the kitchen, his wife and maid; all whom she had given orders should be brought thither with their hands tied behind them. They were brought out accordingly, and the executioners were just going to throw them into the tub, when the king (who was not so soon expected) entered the court on horseback (for he came post) and asked, with the utmost astonishment, what was the meaning of that horrible spectacle. No one dared to tell him, when the ogress, all enraged to see what had happened, threw herself head foremost into the tub, and was instantly devoured by the ugly creatures she had ordered to be thrown into it for others. The king could not but be very sorry, for she was his mother; but he soon comforted himself with his beautiful wife and his pretty children. Moral Many a girl has waited long For a husband brave or strong; But I'm sure I never met Any sort of woman yet Who could wait a hundred years, Free from fretting, free from fears. Now, our story seems to show That a century or so, Late or early, matters not; True love comes by fairy-lot. Some old folk will even say It grows better by delay. Yet this good advice, I fear, Helps us neither there nor here. Though philosophers may prate How much wiser 'tis to wait, Maids will be a sighing still -- Young blood must when young blood will! Green, and Company, 1891), pp. 54-63. I have carefully modernized the spelling and punctuation. The translation of the verse moral (omitted by Lang) comes from Perrault's Fairy Tales, translated by S. R. Littlewood (London: Herbert and Daniel, 1912). passé, avec des moralitéz (Paris, 1697).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1362,A Poor Mariner of Gaeta,"Italy, Poggio Bracciolini",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Poggio Bracciolini, The Facetiae or Jocose Tales, volume 1 (Paris: Isidore Liseux, 1879), no. 1, pp. 7-10.","The generality of the common people of Gaeta get their living on the sea. One of them, an extremely poor mariner, after wandering here and there to make a little money, came home after nearly five years absence; he had left behind a very young wife and a most humble stock of furniture. So soon as he had set foot on land, he rushed home to see his wife, who, in the interval, despairing of his re turn, had taken to living with another man. On crossing the threshold, he notices that his house has been partly put in good repair, beautified and enlarged; wondering, he enquires of his wife how it has come to pass that their cottage, formerly so ugly, has become tidy and neat. 'By the grace of God, who gives assistance to all men,' replies the woman. 'God be blessed,' quoth the man, 'for such kindness conferred upon us!' He next sees the bedroom, an elegant couch, and other furniture above his wife's condition, and again enquires where it all comes from. 'The grace of God,' says she. He returns anew thanks to the Lord for his great bounty. Other things meet his eyes, that are novel and unusual in his house; they also are the gift of God. He is at last feeling surprised at such favors lavished upon him, when a pretty little boy comes forward, more than three years old, who, infant-like, caresses his mother. The husband looking at the child and inquiring whose it is, the wife answers it is hers. Amazed, he asks how he can have come by that offspring whilst away; his wife asserts that it is also by the grace of God. Indignant at this superabundance of divine grace, which has gone the length of giving him heirs, 'Indeed,' says he, 'I am under great obligations to God, who has taken such care of my interests!' It seemed to him that God had been rather too considerate in providing him with children during his absence.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1362,A Twelve-Month Child,"Italy, Poggio Bracciolini",Poggio Bracciolini was born in 1380 and died in 1459.,"Poggio Bracciolini, The Facetiae or Jocose Tales, volume 2 (Paris: Isidore Liseux, 1879), no. 72, pp. 2-3.","A Florentine, who had been abroad, came home after one year's absence, and found his wife in labor. He did not like it, suspecting some conjugal disloyalty. However, not being sure of the thing, he sought the advice of a neighbor, a clever gentlewoman, and asked her if a child could be born to him after twelve months. The lady, seeing his silliness, at once comforted him: 'To be sure,' said she,' for, if on the day she conceived, your wife happened to see a donkey, she will have borne a whole year, as asses do.' The husband took those words for gospel, and thanking God for having rid him of an ugly suspicion, and his wife of a grievous exposure, he acknowledged the child as his own.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1362,Ten Cradles,"England, John Taylor","Spelling modernized by D. L. Ashliman. Hazlitt's source: John Taylor, Wit and Mirth: Being 113 Pleasant Tales and Witty Jests (London, 1635). John Taylor, 'the water poet,' was born between 1577 and 1580, and died in 1653.","W. Carew Hazlitt, Shakespeare Jest-Books (London: Willis and Sotheran, 1864), Taylor's Wit and Mirth, no. 92, p. 57.","A fellow, having been married but five weeks, perceived his wife to be great with child, wherefore she desired him to buy a cradle. Shortly after he went to a fair and bought ten cradles; and being demanded why he bought so many, he answered, that his wife would have use for them all in one year.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1362,The Child of Snow,"France, Les cent nouvelles nouvelles",Les cent nouvelles nouvelles is a collection of one hundred stories assembled in the mid-fifteenth century by Antoine de la Sale [also spelled de La Salle] (1385/6 - 1460/1). The purported author of the nineteenth story is Philippe Vignier. Link to a French-language edition of this story: L'Enfant de neige.,"One Hundred Merrie and Delightsome Stories, Right Pleasante to Relate in All Goodly Companie by Way of Joyance and Jollity: Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles, now first done into the english tongue by Robert B. Douglas (Paris: Charles Carrington, 1899), no. 19.","Of an English merchant whose wife had a child in his absence, and told him that it was his; and how he cleverly got rid of the child -- for his wife having asserted that it was born of the snow, he declared it had been melted by the sun. Moved by a strong desire to see and know foreign countries, and to meet with adventures, a worthy and rich merchant of London left his fair and good wife, his children, relations, friends, estates, and the greater part of his possessions, and quitted the kingdom, well furnished with money and great abundance of merchandise, such as England can supply to foreign countries, and with many other things which, for the sake of brevity, I do not mention here. On this first voyage, the good merchant wandered about for a space of five years, during which time his good wife looked after his property, disposed of much merchandise profitably, and managed so well that her husband, when he returned at the end of five years, greatly praised her, and loved her more than ever. The merchant, not content with the many strange and wonderful things he had seen, or with the large fortune he had made, four or five months after his return, again set forth in quest of adventures in foreign lands, both Christian and pagan, and stayed there so long that ten years passed before his wife again saw him, but he often wrote to her, that she might know that he was still alive. She was young and lusty, and wanted not any of the goods that God could give, except the presence of her husband. His long absence constrained her to provide herself with a lover, by whom shortly she had a fine boy. This son was nourished and brought up with the others, his half-brothers, and, when the merchant returned, was about seven years old. Great were the rejoicings between husband and wife when he came back, and whilst they were conversing pleasantly, the good woman, at the demand of her husband, caused to be brought all their children, not omitting the one who had been born during the absence of him whose name she bore. The worthy merchant seeing all these children, and remembering perfectly how many there should be, found one over and above; at which he was much astonished and surprised, and he inquired of his wife who was this fair son, the youngest of their children? 'Who is he?' said she; 'On my word, husband, he is our son! Who else should he be?' 'I do not know,' he replied, 'but, as I have never seen him before, is it strange that I should ask?' 'No, by St. John,' said she; 'but he is our son.' 'How can that be?' said her husband. 'You were not pregnant when I left.' 'Truly I was not, so far as I know,' she replied, 'but I can swear that the child is yours, and that no other man but you has ever lain with me.' 'I never said so,' he answered, 'but, at any rate, it is ten years since I left, and this child does not appear more than seven. How then can it be mine? Did you carry him longer than you did the others?' 'By my oath, I know not!' she said; 'but what I tell you is true. Whether I carried it longer than the others I know not, and if you did not make it before you left, I do not know how it could have come, unless it was that, not long after your departure, I was one day in our garden, when suddenly there came upon me a longing and desire to eat a leaf of sorrel, which at that time was thickly covered with snow. I chose a large and fine leaf, as I thought, and ate it, but it was only a white and hard piece of snow. And no sooner had I eaten it than I felt myself to be in the same condition as I was before each of my other children was born. In fact, a certain time afterwards, I bore you this fair son.' The merchant saw at once that he was being fooled, but he pretended to believe the story his wife had told him, and replied; 'My dear, though what you tell me is hardly possible, and has never happened to anyone else, let God be praised for what He has sent us. If He has given us a child by a miracle, or by some secret method of which we are ignorant, He has not forgotten to provide us with the wherewithal to keep it.' When the good woman saw that her husband was willing to believe the tale she told him, she was greatly pleased. The merchant, who was both wise and prudent, stayed at home the next ten years, without making any other voyages, and in all that time breathed not a word to his wife to make her suspect he knew aught of her doings, so virtuous and patient was he. But he was not yet tired of travelling, and wished to begin again. He told his wife, who was very dissatisfied thereat. 'Be at ease,' he said, 'and, if God and St. George so will, I will return shortly. And as our son, who was born during my last voyage, is now grown up, and capable of seeing and learning, I will, if it seem good to you, take him with me.' 'On my word', said she 'I hope you will, and you will do well.' 'It shall be done,' he said, and thereupon he started, and took with him the young man, of whom he was not the father, and for whom he felt no affection. They had a good wind, and came to the port of Alexandria, where the good merchant sold the greater part of his merchandise very well. But he was not so foolish as to keep at his charge a child his wife had had by some other man, and who, after his death, would inherit like the other children, so he sold the youth as a slave, for good money paid down, and as the lad was young and strong, nearly a hundred ducats was paid for him. When this was done, the merchant returned to London, safe and sound, thank God. And it need not be told how pleased his wife was to see him in good health, but when she saw her son was not there, she knew not what to think. She could not conceal her feelings, and asked her husband what had become of their son? 'Ah, my dear,' said he, 'I will not conceal from you that a great misfortune has befallen him.' 'Alas, what?' she asked. 'Is he drowned?' 'No; but the truth is that the wind and waves wafted us to a country that was so hot that we nearly died from the great heat of the sun. And one day when we had all left the ship, in order that we each might dig a hole in which to shield ourselves from the heat, -- our dear son, who, as you know was made of snow, began to melt in the sun, and in our presence was turned into water, and ere you could have said one of the seven psalms, there was nothing left of him. Thus strangely did he come into the world, and thus suddenly did he leave it. I both was, and am, greatly vexed, and not one of all the marvels I have ever seen astonished me so greatly.' 'Well!' said she. 'Since it has pleased God to give and to take away, His name be praised.' As to whether she suspected anything or not, the history is silent and makes no mention, but perhaps she learned that her husband was not to be hoodwinked.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1362,The Ice Child,"Germany, Johannes Pauli","Link to this tale, as recorded in a 1597 edition of Schimpf und Ernst: Eines Kauffmans Weib ward schwanger von einem Eißschmarren. Johannes Pauli was born about 1455 and died after 1530.","Johannes Pauli, 'Das Eiskind,' Sinnreiche und unterhaltende Geschichten aus Frater Johannes Pauli's Schimpf und Ernst. Edited by Gustav Jördens (Leipzig: Wilhelm Lauffer, 1822), no. 7, pp. 14-17.","In Venice there was a merchant whose journeys kept him away from home for one or three years at a time. Once upon returning he found a good-looking boy running around in his house. The man asked, 'Whose good-looking boy is this?' His wife said, 'Husband, he is mine. Let me tell you how I came to have this child. In the winter I was walking in the garden, thinking about you with longing. Just then a ice cycle fell from the roof. I ate it, and the child grew out of it. As a sign of this, his name is Glacies.' The good man said nothing, not wanting to make to much of the situation, for if a man scolds his wife, he is only scolding himself. Furthermore, he thought, if you had been with her, this probably would not have happened. Just as you have broken foreign jugs while abroad, she has broken some pots here at home. Glacies grew up and became large. One day the man said to his wife, 'What do you think if I took our Glacies with me, so he could learn the art of buying and selling, so in the future he will know whether or not he wants to become a merchant.' His wife said, 'But you must take care of him.' The man took him along, and sold him overseas. A long time later he returned home, but did not bring the child with him. The woman said, 'What have you done with our child Glacies?' The man said, 'A strange thing happened to him. One day while we were sailing on the sea it was terribly hot. I told him not to sit there bare-headed, but he did so anyway. The sun was so hot on hi head that he melted and ran into the sea. Just as he came from water, he became water once again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1362,The Snow Child (Ashliman),Europe,"This story was very popular among the writers of medieval and renaissance jest books, both in Latin and in vernacular languages.","Retold from various sources, including those reprinted in: Lutz Röhrich, Erzählungen des späten Mittelalters und ihr Weiterleben in Literatur und Volksdichtung bis zur Gegenwart (Bern and Munich: Francke Verlag, 1962), v. 1, pp. 204-298.","A merchant lived with his wife in their cottage by the shore. Their's was not an easy life, for his voyages kept him away from home many months at a time. One homecoming following a particularly long and arduous voyage, the merchant was greeted by his wife and an infant child. He was surprised, but not especially pleased, to see the newborn baby, as he had been at sea for nearly a year. The wife countered the husband's inquiring look with an explanation. 'No, it is not your son,' she admitted. 'It's a miracle boy, a Snow Child!' She continued, 'One winter's day while returning home from church I slipped on the ice and fell into a snow bank. Nine months later I gave birth to our Snow Child. Is he not a wonder!' The husband had to admit that the child was a wonder, for he had no color. His hair and his skin were a bleached white. The merchant seemed to accept the new family member. Many voyages and seasons later, it was on a hot summer's day, the merchant, announced to his wife that he would be going to market in the next village. 'I'll take the Snow Child along for an outing,' he said. The merchant arrived back home that evening, but he was alone. 'Where is our son?' asked the anxious mother. 'Something terrible happened,' responded the husband. 'We were walking across a broad meadow in the hot sun, and he ...,' the husband faltered. 'And he melted.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1362,The Snow Child (North),"England, Thomas North","Title added and spelling cautiously modernized by D. L. Ashliman. North's The Morall Philosophie of Doni [Bidpai] was first published in 1569 or 1570. Although North attributes this version of the 'Snow Child' story to the legendary Indian philosopher Bidpai, it is demonstrably of European, not Oriental, origin.","Joseph Jacobs, The Earliest English version of the Fables of Bidpai: 'The Morall Philosophie of Doni,' by Sir Thomas North (London: David Nutt, 1888), pp. 203-206.","His wife, that remained at home, was good and square, and plumb of body, her brawn as hard as a board, and that had her face before her as other women; so that a great rich man also of that country cast his eyes upon her, and entertained her in that time of vacation. And she that delighted not to be kept at the rack and manger, suffered her receipt to run at large, to fare more daintily. In so much as at the last (sinning in gluttony) her breasts grew big, and her belly rose, so when time came, she brought forth a goodly babe, which she carefully put forth to nurse and thus it grew; and in fine as her own in deed she brought it home and fostered it. Her husband being come home that had been long absent, glad to see his wife and she (in seeming also) no less glad of his coming, (but Lord, what feast and joy in outward show between them) they sweetly kissed, and with loving words embraced each other. 'Oh my Conye, welcome,' quoth she. 'Oh my dear Musse,' said he, 'gramercy to thee.' All wedlock ceremonies duly accomplished; her husband, casting his eyes about and seeing this fair little boy running about the house, 'Musse,' quoth he, 'I pray thee whence is this little knave?' 'What knowest thou not, Conye,' said she? 'It is mine.' (And this she told him as she that could cunningly handle him in his kind), and so followed on, preventing his tale: 'Doest thou not remember that three years ago there fell a great snow. (Jesus, how cold it was), and at the same time I remember the ravens and crows fell down stark dead in the streets, and the little fish died in the wells. Oh what a cold it was, and I took it, in deed (God knoweth) with throwing of snowballs, the young maids of the country and I together; and I cannot tell how, I handled so many, but well I know, I came home fair with child, and I am sure it was no other but the snow, and that is seen by the boy, that is as fair and white as snow itself, and therefore I called his name White. And, because I know well enough ye men are of such metal, that even strait ye think all the evil of us poor women that can be, and for that I would not put any jealousy or toy in thy head, I sent him out of the doors to nurse, thinking afterwards at leisure, when thou hadst known thy good wife, to send for him, and so to have told thee even plainly from point to point how the matter went, and how I came by this good, pretty, sweet, fair, well-favored boy.' Her husband, though indeed he was but an ass and a dreamish fool, was not moved a whit at her ill-favored tale, nor once hung down his head for the matter, and made as though he believed her; but he knew strait the knavery of the foolish invention of his wife. Howbeit what for the love he bare her (because she was worth the looking on ywis [for certain]), and for that he was but a rude fellow to behold, and thought himself scant worthy of her, and that he had married her, pining away for her sake; he thought it better to carry such things in his breast than in his head, and the rather peradventure because he doubted false measure, fearing his partner's ill will that farmed his ground at halves with him; in fine, he was contented to bite it in for the time, determining not to be at charges with other men's children. So one day spying time and place, he carried out of the doors with him this little boy White; and such was his walk that the boy was never more heard of, nor seen after that. The woman looked and looked again to see her son return with her husband. But seeing her husband come home without him, 'Come,' sayth she to him, 'I pray thee, what hast thou done with my boy?' Her husband that had bought his wit so dear, answered her: 'A sweet Musse, the other day unadvisedly (I confess it) I carried him abroad with me, and we walked a great while in the sun together, and thou knowest how hot it was two days ago (alack that I should tell it thee); the heat of the sun hath quite dissolved him. And then I found thy words true which before I hardly believed. Alas, poor wretch, he suddenly turned all into water, that woe is me.' His Musse, hearing this, in a rage flung her away, and left Conye all alone, so he never after saw her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
709,Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree,Scotland,"Jacobs' source: Kenneth Macleod, Celtic Magazine, vol. 13, pp. 213-18. Remarks by Joseph Jacobs: It is unlikely, I should say impossible, that this tale, with the incident of the dormant heroine, should have arisen independently in the Highlands; it is not likely an importation from abroad. Yet in it occurs a most 'primitive' incident, the bigamous household of the hero.... On the 'survival' method of investigation this would possibly be used as evidence for polygamy in the Highlands. Yet if, as is probably, the story came from abroad, this trait may have come with it, and only implies polygamy in the original home of the tale.","Joseph Jacobs, Celtic Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1892), no. 11, pp. 88-92.","Once upon a time there was a king who had a wife, whose name was Silver-Tree, and a daughter, whose name was Gold-Tree. On a certain day of the days, Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree went to a glen, where there was a well, and in it there was a trout. Said Silver-Tree, 'Troutie, bonny little fellow, am not I the most beautiful queen in the world?' 'Oh! indeed you are not.' 'Who then?' 'Why, Gold-Tree, your daughter.' Silver-Tree went home, blind with rage. She lay down on the bed, and vowed she would never be well until she could get the heart and the liver of Gold-Tree, her daughter, to eat. At nightfall the king came home, and it was told him that Silver-Tree, his wife, was very ill. He went where she was, and asked her what was wrong with her. 'Oh! only a thing which you may heal if you like.' 'Oh! indeed there is nothing at all which I could do for you that I would not do.' 'If I get the heart and the liver of Gold-Tree, my daughter, to eat, I shall be well.' Now it happened about this time that the son of a great king had come from abroad to ask Gold-Tree for marrying. The king now agreed to this, and they went abroad. The king then went and sent his lads to the hunting hill for a he goat, and he gave its heart and its liver to his wife to eat; and she rose well and healthy. A year after this Silver-Tree went to the glen, where there was the well in which there was the trout. 'Troutie, bonny little fellow,' said she, 'am not I the most beautiful queen in the world?' 'Oh! well, it is long since she was living. It is a year since I ate her heart and liver.' 'Oh! indeed she is not dead. She is married to a great prince abroad.' Silver-Tree went home, and begged the king to put the long-ship in order, and said, 'I am going to see my dear Gold-Tree, for it is so long since I saw her.' The long-ship was put in order, and they went away. It was Silver-Tree herself that was at the helm, and she steered the ship so well that they were not long at all before they arrived. The prince was out hunting on the hills. Gold-Tree knew the long-ship of her father coming. 'Oh!' said she to the servants, 'my mother is coming, and she will kill me.' 'She shall not kill you at all; we will lock you in a room where she cannot get near you.' This is how it was done; and when Silver-Tree came ashore, she began to cry out, 'Come to meet your own mother, when she comes to see you.' Gold-Tree said that she could not, that she was locked in the room, and that she could not get out of it. 'Will you not put out,' said Silver-Tree, 'your little finger through the keyhole, so that your own mother may give a kiss to it?' She put out her little finger, and Silver-Tree went and put a poisoned stab in it, and Gold-Tree fell dead. When the prince came home, and found Gold-Tree dead, he was in great sorrow, and when he saw how beautiful she was, he did not bury her at all, but he locked her in a room where nobody would get near her. In the course of time he married again, and the whole house was under the hand of this wife but one room, and he himself always kept the key of that room. On a certain day of the days her forgot to take the key with him, and the second wife got into the room. What did she see there but the most beautiful woman that she ever saw. She began to turn and try to wake her, and she noticed the poisoned stab in her finger. She took the stab out, and Gold-Tree rose alive, as beautiful as she was ever. At the fall of night the prince came home from the hunting hill, looking very downcast. 'What gift,' said his wife, 'would you give me that I could make you laugh?' 'Oh! indeed, nothing could make me laugh, except Gold-Tree were to come alive again.' 'Well, you'll find her alive down there in the room.' When the prince saw Gold-Tree alive her made great rejoicings, and he began to kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Said the second wife, 'Since she is the first one you had it is better for you to stick to her, and I will go away.' 'Oh! indeed you shall not go away, but I shall have both of you.' At the end of the year, Silver-Tree went to the glen, where there was the well, in which there was the trout. 'Why Gold-Tree, your daughter.' 'Oh! well, she is not alive. It is a year since I put the poisoned stab into her finger.' 'Oh! indeed she is not dead at all, at all.' order, for that she was going to see her dear Gold-Tree, as it was so long since she saw her. The long-ship was put in order, and they went away. It was Silver-Tree herself that was at the helm, and she steered the ship so well that they were not long at all before they arrived. The prince was out hunting on the hills. Gold-Tree knew her father's ship coming. 'Oh!' said she, 'my mother is coming, and she will kill me.' 'Not at all,' said the second wife; 'we will go down to meet her.' Silver-Tree came ashore. 'Come down, Gold tree, love,' said she, 'for your own mother has come to you with a precious drink.' 'It is a custom in this country,' said the second wife, 'that the person who offers a drink takes a draught out of it first.' Silver-Tree put her mouth to it, and the second wife went and struck it so that some of it went down her throat, and she fell dead. they had only to carry her home a dead corpse and bury her. The prince and his two wives were long alive after this, pleased and peaceful. I left them there. 213-18. Remarks by Joseph Jacobs: It is unlikely, I should say impossible, that this tale, with the incident of the dormant heroine, should have arisen independently in the Highlands; it is not likely an importation from abroad. Yet in it occurs a most 'primitive' incident, the bigamous household of the hero.... On the 'survival' method of investigation this would possibly be used as evidence for polygamy in the Highlands. Yet if, as is probably, the story came from abroad, this trait may have come with it, and only implies polygamy in the original home of the tale.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
709,Little Snow-White,"Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm","A note about the Grimms' name 'Sneewittchen': Both elements of this compound word are in Low German, although the tale itself was recorded in High German. The High German form of the heroine's name would be Schneeweißchen. The Grimms used both forms in their first edition, titling the story 'Sneewittchen (Schneeweißchen).' Some differences between the edition of 1812 and later versions: Beginning with the edition of 1819, the Grimms add the statement that Snow-White's mother died during childbirth, and that her father remarried. Note that in the first edition, presumably the version closest to its oral sources, Snow-White's jealous antagonist is her own mother, not a stepmother. Beginning with the edition of 1819, the poisoned apple is dislodged when a servant accidentally stumbles while carrying the coffin to the prince's castle. Beginning with the edition of 1819, the Grimms add the statement that Snow-White's mother died during childbirth, and that her father remarried. Note that in the first edition, presumably the version closest to its oral sources, Snow-White's jealous antagonist is her own mother, not a stepmother. Beginning with the edition of 1819, the poisoned apple is dislodged when a servant accidentally stumbles while carrying the coffin to the prince's castle. Link to the Grimm Brothers Home Page","Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), v. 1, no. 53, pp. 238-50.","Once upon a time in mid winter, when the snowflakes were falling like feathers from heaven, a beautiful queen sat sewing at her window, which had a frame of black ebony wood. As she sewed, she looked up at the snow and pricked her finger with her needle. Three drops of blood fell into the snow. The red on the white looked so beautiful, that she thought, 'If only I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as this frame.' Soon afterward she had a little daughter that was as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as ebony wood, and therefore they called her Little Snow-White. Now the queen was the most beautiful woman in all the land, and very proud of her beauty. She had a mirror, which she stood in front of every morning, and asked: Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who in this land is fairest of all? And the mirror always said: You, my queen, are fairest of all. And then she knew for certain that no one in the world was more beautiful than she. Now Snow-White grew up, and when she was seven years old, she was so beautiful, that she surpassed even the queen herself. Now when the queen asked her mirror: The mirror said: You, my queen, are fair; it is true. But Little Snow-White is still A thousand times fairer than you. When the queen heard the mirror say this, she became pale with envy, and from that hour on, she hated Snow-White. Whenever she looked at her, she thought that Snow-White was to blame that she was no longer the most beautiful woman in the world. This turned her heart around. Her jealousy gave her no peace. Finally she summoned a huntsman and said to him, 'Take Snow-White out into the woods to a remote spot, and stab her to death. As proof that she is dead bring her lungs and her liver back to me. I shall cook them with salt and eat them.' The huntsman took Snow-White into the woods. When he took out his hunting knife to stab her, she began to cry, and begged fervently that he might spare her life, promising to run away into the woods and never return. The huntsman took pity on her because she was so beautiful, and he thought, 'The wild animals will soon devour her anyway. I'm glad that I don't have to kill her.' Just then a young boar came running by. He killed it, cut out its lungs and liver, and took them back to the queen as proof of Snow-White's death. She cooked them with salt and ate them, supposing that she had eaten Snow-White's lungs and liver. Snow-White was now all alone in the great forest. She was terribly afraid, and began to run. She ran over sharp stones and through thorns the entire day. Finally, just as the sun was about to set, she came to a little house. The house belonged to seven dwarfs. They were working in a mine, and not at home. Snow-White went inside and found everything to be small, but neat and orderly. There was a little table with seven little plates, seven little spoons, seven little knives and forks, seven little mugs, and against the wall there were seven little beds, all freshly made. Snow-White was hungry and thirsty, so she ate a few vegetables and a little bread from each little plate, and from each little glass she drank a drop of wine. Because she was so tired, she wanted to lie down and go to sleep. She tried each of the seven little beds, one after the other, but none felt right until she came to the seventh one, and she lay down in it and fell asleep. When night came, the seven dwarfs returned home from the work. They lit their seven little candles, and saw that someone had been in their house. The first one said, 'Who has been sitting in my chair?' The second one, 'Who has been eating from my plate?' The third one, 'Who has been eating my bread?' The fourth one, 'Who has been eating my vegetables?' The fifth one, 'Who has been sticking with my fork?' The sixth one, 'Who has been cutting with my knife?' The seventh one, 'Who has been drinking from my mug?' Then the first one said, 'Who stepped on my bed?' The second one, 'And someone has been lying in my bed.' And so forth until the seventh one, and when he looked at his bed, he found Snow-White lying there, fast asleep. The seven dwarfs all came running, and they cried out with amazement. They fetched their seven candles and looked at Snow-White. 'Good heaven! Good heaven!' they cried. 'She is so beautiful!' They liked her very much. They did not wake her up, but let her lie there in the bed. The seventh dwarf had to sleep with his companions, one hour with each one, and then the night was done. When Snow-White woke up, they asked her who she was and how she had found her way to their house. She told them how her mother had tried to kill her, how the huntsman had spared her life, how she had run the entire day, finally coming to their house. The dwarfs pitied her and said, 'If you will keep house for us, and cook, sew, make beds, wash, and knit, and keep everything clean and orderly, then you can stay here, and you'll have everything that you want. We come home in the evening, and supper must be ready by then, but we spend the days digging for gold in the mine. You will be alone then. Watch out for the queen, and do not let anyone in.' The queen thought that she was again the most beautiful woman in the land, and the next morning she stepped before the mirror and asked: The mirror answered once again: But Little Snow-White beyond the seven mountains Is a thousand times fairer than you. It startled the queen to hear this, and she knew that she had been deceived, that the huntsman had not killed Snow-White. Because only the seven dwarfs lived in the seven mountains, she knew at once that they must have rescued her. She began to plan immediately how she might kill her, because she would have no peace until the mirror once again said that she was the most beautiful woman in the land. At last she thought of something to do. She disguised herself as an old peddler woman and colored her face, so that no one would recognize her, and went to the dwarf's house. Knocking on the door she called out, 'Open up. Open up. I'm the old peddler woman with good wares for sale.' Snow-White peered out the window, 'What do you have?' 'Bodice laces, dear child,' said the old woman, and held one up. It was braided from yellow, red, and blue silk. 'Would you like this one?' 'Oh, yes,' said Snow-White, thinking, 'I can let the old woman come in. She means well.' She unbolted the door and bargained for the bodice laces. 'You are not laced up properly,' said the old woman. 'Come here, I'll do it better.' Snow-White stood before her, and she took hold of the laces and pulled them so tight that Snow-White could not breathe, and she fell down as if she were dead. Then the old woman was satisfied, and she went away. Nightfall soon came, and the seven dwarfs returned home. They were horrified to find their dear Snow-White lying on the ground as if she were dead. They lifted her up and saw that she was laced up too tightly. They cut the bodice laces in two, and then she could breathe, and she came back to life. 'It must have been the queen who tried to kill you,' they said. 'Take care and do not let anyone in again.' The queen asked her mirror: But Little Snow-White with the seven dwarfs She was so horrified that the blood all ran to her heart, because she knew that Snow-White had come back to life. Then for an entire day and a night she planned how she might catch her. She made a poisoned comb, disguised herself differently, and went out again. She knocked on the door, but Snow-White called out, 'I am not allowed to let anyone in.' Then she pulled out the comb, and when Snow-White saw how it glistened, and noted that the woman was a complete stranger, she opened the door, and bought the comb from her. 'Come, let me comb your hair,' said the peddler woman. She had barely stuck the comb into Snow-White's hair, before the girl fell down and was dead. 'That will keep you lying there,' said the queen. And she went home with a light heart. The dwarfs came home just in time. They saw what had happened and pulled the poisoned comb from her hair. Snow-White opened her eyes and came back to life. She promised the dwarfs not to let anyone in again. The queen stepped before her mirror: The mirror answered: When the queen heard this, she shook and trembled with anger, 'Snow-White will die, if it costs me my life!' Then she went into her most secret room -- no one else was allowed inside -- and she made a poisoned, poisoned apple. From the outside it was red and beautiful, and anyone who saw it would want it. Then she disguised herself as a peasant woman, went to the dwarfs' house and knocked on the door. Snow-White peeped out and said, 'I'm not allowed to let anyone in. The dwarfs have forbidden it most severely.' 'If you don't want to, I can't force you,' said the peasant woman. 'I am selling these apples, and I will give you one to taste.' 'No, I can't accept anything. The dwarfs don't want me to.' 'If you are afraid, then I will cut the apple in two and eat half of it. Here, you eat the half with the beautiful red cheek!' Now the apple had been so artfully made that only the red half was poisoned. When Snow-White saw that the peasant woman was eating part of the apple, her desire for it grew stronger, so she finally let the woman hand her the other half through the window. She bit into it, but she barely had the bite in her mouth when she fell to the ground dead. The queen was happy, went home, and asked her mirror: And it answered: 'Now I'll have some peace,' she said, 'because once again I'm the most beautiful woman in the land. Snow-White will remain dead this time.' That evening the dwarfs returned home from the mines. Snow-White was lying on the floor, and she was dead. They loosened her laces and looked in her hair for something poisonous, but nothing helped. They could not bring her back to life. They laid her on a bier, and all seven sat next to her and cried and cried for three days. They were going to bury her, but they saw that she remained fresh. She did not look at all like a dead person, and she still had beautiful red cheeks. They had a glass coffin made for her, and laid her inside, so that she could be seen easily. They wrote her name and her ancestry on it in gold letters, and one of them always stayed at home and kept watch over her. Snow-White lay there in the coffin a long, long time, and she did not decay. She was still as white as snow and as red as blood, and if she had been able to open her eyes, they still would have been as black as ebony wood. She lay there as if she were asleep. One day a young prince came to the dwarfs' house and wanted shelter for the night. When he came into their parlor and saw Snow-White lying there in a glass coffin, illuminated so beautifully by seven little candles, he could not get enough of her beauty. He read the golden inscription and saw that she was the daughter of a king. He asked the dwarfs to sell him the coffin with the dead Snow-White, but they would not do this for any amount of gold. Then he asked them to give her to him, for he could not live without being able to see her, and he would keep her, and honor her as his most cherished thing on earth. Then the dwarfs took pity on him and gave him the coffin. The prince had it carried to his castle, and had it placed in a room where he sat by it the whole day, never taking his eyes from it. Whenever he had to go out and was unable to see Snow-White, he became sad. And he could not eat a bite, unless the coffin was standing next to him. Now the servants who always had to carry the coffin to and fro became angry about this. One time one of them opened the coffin, lifted Snow-White upright, and said, 'We are plagued the whole day long, just because of such a dead girl,' and he hit her in the back with his hand. Then the terrible piece of apple that she had bitten off came out of her throat, and Snow-White came back to life. She walked up to the prince, who was beside himself with joy to see his beloved Snow-White alive. They sat down together at the table and ate with joy. Their wedding was set for the next day, and Snow-White's godless mother was invited as well. That morning she stepped before the mirror and said: But the young queen She was horrified to hear this, and so overtaken with fear that she could not say anything. Still, her jealousy drove her to go to the wedding and see the young queen. When she arrived she saw that it was Snow-White. Then they put a pair of iron shoes into the fire until they glowed, and she had to put them on and dance in them. Her feet were terribly burned, and she could not stop until she had danced herself to death. compound word are in Low German, although the tale itself was recorded in High German. The High German form of the heroine's name would be Schneeweißchen. The Grimms used both forms in their first edition, titling the story 'Sneewittchen (Schneeweißchen).' Some differences between the edition of 1812 and later versions: Beginning with the edition of 1819, the Grimms add the statement that Snow-White's mother died during childbirth, and that her father remarried. Note that in the first edition, presumably the version closest to its oral stepmother. when a servant accidentally stumbles while carrying the coffin to the prince's castle.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
709,"Maria, the Wicked Stepmother, and the Seven Robbers",Italy,2002.,"Laura Gonzenbach, 'Maria, die böse Stiefmutter und die sieben Räuber,' Sicilianische Märchen, aus dem Volksmund gesammelt, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1870), no. 2, pp. 4-7.","Once upon a time there was a man whose wife died, and he had only a little daughter, whose name was Maria. Maria went to school to a woman who taught her sewing and knitting. In the evening when she left for home the woman would always say to her, 'Give your father my kindest greetings.' Because of these friendly greetings the man thought, 'She would be a wife for me,' and he married the woman. After they were married, the woman became very unfriendly toward poor Maria, for stepmothers have always been that way, and with time she could not stand her at all. Then she said to her husband, 'The girl eats too much of our bread. We will have to get rid of her.' But the man said, 'I cannot kill my child!' Then the woman said, 'Tomorrow take her with you out into the country and leave her there alone, so that she will not be able to find her way back home.' The next day the man called his daughter and said to her, 'We are going out into the country. We will take something to eat with us.' Then he got a large loaf of bread, and they set forth. However, Maria was clever, and she filled her pockets with bran. As she walked along behind her father, from time to time she threw down a little pile of bran onto the pathway. After walking for many hours they came to the top of a steep cliff. Her father dropped the loaf of bread over the cliff, then cried out, 'Oh, Maria, our bread fell down there!' 'Father,' said Maria, 'I will climb down and get it.' So she climbed down the cliff and got the bread, but by the time she had climbed back up to the top, her father had gone away, and Maria was all alone. She started to cry, for she was very far from home, and in a strange place. But then she thought about the bran and took courage. Following the bran, she finally arrived home again, late that night. 'Oh, father,' she said, 'why did you leave me alone?' The man comforted her and talked to her until he had reassured her. The stepmother was very angry that Maria had found the way back, and some time later she again told her husband that he should take Maria out into the country and abandon her in the woods. The next morning the man called his daughter once again, and they set forth. The father again carried a loaf of bread, but Maria forgot to take the bran with her. In the woods they came to an even steeper and higher cliff. The father again dropped the bread over the edge, and Maria had to climb down to get it. When she arrived back at the top, her father had gone away, and she was alone. She began to cry bitterly, and she ran one way and the other for a long time, only to find herself even deeper in the dark woods. Evening came, and suddenly she saw a light. She walked toward it and came to a little house. Inside she found a set table and seven beds, but no people were there. The house belonged to seven robbers. Maria hid behind a dough trough, and soon the seven robbers returned home. They ate and drank, and then went to bed. The next morning they left, but the youngest brother remained at home in order to cook the food and clean the house. After they had left, the youngest brother went out to buy food. Then Maria came out from behind the dough trough, swept and cleaned the house, and then put the kettle on the fire in order to cook the beans. Then once again she hid behind the dough trough. When the youngest brother returned home he was amazed to see everything so clean, and when his brothers came back, he told them what had happened. They were all astonished and could not imagine how it had happened. The next day the second brother remained at home alone. He pretended that he too was going away, but he returned at once and saw Maria, who had come out once again to clean up the house. Maria was frightened when she saw the robber. 'Oh,' she begged, ' for heaven's sake, do not kill me!' 'Who are you?' asked the robber. Then she told him about her wicked stepmother, and how her father had abandoned her in the woods, and how for two days she had been hiding behind the dough trough. 'You don't have to be afraid of us,' said the robber. 'Stay here with us and be our sister, and cook, sew, and wash for us.' When the other brothers returned home, they were satisfied with this, so Maria stayed with the seven robbers, did their housekeeping, and was always quiet and diligent. One day as she was sitting by the window sewing, a poor old woman came by and asked for alms. 'Oh,' said Maria, 'I don't have much, for I myself am a poor, unhappy girl, but I will give you what I have.' 'Why are you so unhappy?' asked the beggar woman. Then Maria told her how she had left home and had come here. The poor woman went forth and told the wicked stepmother that Maria was still alive. When the stepmother heard this she was very angry, and she gave the beggar woman a ring that she was to take to poor Maria. The ring was a magic ring. Eight days later the poor woman came again to Maria to beg for alms, and when Maria gave her something, she said, 'Look, my child, I have here a beautiful ring. Because you have been so good to me, I want to give it to you.' Suspecting nothing, Maria took the ring, but when she put it on her finger she fell down dead. When the robbers returned home and found Maria on the floor, they were very sad, and they cried bitterly for her. Then they made a beautiful coffin and laid Maria inside it, after having adorned her with the most beautiful jewelry. They also put a large amount of gold in the coffin, which they then set on an oxcart. They drove the oxcart into the city. When they came to the king's castle they saw that the stall door was wide open. They drove the oxen inside, in order to bring the cart into the stall. This caused the horses to become very uneasy, and they began rearing up and making noise. Hearing the noise, the king sent someone down to ask the stall-master what had happened. The stall-master answered that a cart had been driven into the stall. No one was with the cart, but on it there was a beautiful coffin. The king ordered that the coffin be brought to his room, and there he had it opened. When he saw the beautiful dead girl inside, he began to cry bitterly, and he could not leave her. He had four large wax candles brought and had them placed at the four corners of the coffin and lit. Then he sent everyone out of the room, barred the door, fell onto his knees before the coffin, and wept hot tears. When it was time to eat, his mother sent for him, asking him to come. He did not answer at once, but instead wept all the more fervently. Then the old queen herself came and knocked on the door and asked him to open it, but he did not answer. She looked through the keyhole, and when she saw that her son was kneeling next to a corpse, she had the door broken down. However, when she saw the beautiful girl, she herself was very moved, and she leaned over Maria and took her hand. Seeing the beautiful ring, she thought that it would be a shame to let it be buried along with the corpse, so she pulled it off. Then all at once the dead Maria came to life again. The young king said joyfully to his mother, 'This girl shall be my wife!' The old queen answered, 'Yes, so shall it be!' and she embraced Maria. Thus Maria became the king's wife, and the queen. They lived joyfully and in splendor until they died. sieben Räuber,' Sicilianische Märchen, aus dem Volksmund gesammelt, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1870), no. 2, pp. 4-7.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
709,The Crystal Casket,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 21, pp. 326-31.","There was once a widower who had a daughter. This daughter was between ten and twelve years old. Her father sent her to school, and as she was all alone in the world commended her always to her teacher. Now, the teacher, seeing that the child had no mother, fell in love with the father, and kept saying to the girl, 'Ask your father if he would like me for a wife.' This she said to her every day, and at last the girl said, 'Papa, the school-mistress is always asking me if you will marry her.' The father said, 'Eh! my daughter, if I take another wife, you will have great troubles.' But the girl persisted, and finally the father was persuaded to go one evening to the school-mistress' house. When she saw him she was well pleased, and they settled the marriage in a few days. Poor child! How bitterly she had to repent having found a stepmother so ungrateful and cruel to her! She sent her every day out on a terrace to water a pot of basil, and it was so dangerous that if she fell she would go into a large river. One day there came by a large eagle, and said to her, 'What are you doing her?' She was weeping because she saw how great the danger was of falling into the stream. The eagle said to her, 'Get on my back, and I will carry you away, and you will be happier than with your new mamma.' After a long journey they reached a great plain, where they found a beautiful palace all of crystal; the eagle knocked at the door and said, 'Open, my ladies, open! for I have brought you a pretty girl.' When the people in the palace opened the door, and saw that lovely girl, they were amazed, and kissed and caressed her. Meanwhile the door was closed, and they remained peaceful and contended. Let us return to the eagle, who thought she was doing a spite to the stepmother. One day the eagle flew away to the terrace where the stepmother was watering the basil. 'Where is your daughter?' asked the eagle. 'Eh!' she replied, 'perhaps she fell from this terrace and went into the river; I have not heard from her in ten days.' The eagle answered, 'What a fool you are! I carried her away; seeing that you treated her so harshly I carried her away to my fairies, and she is very well.' Then the eagle flew away. The stepmother, filled with rage and jealousy, called a witch from the city, and said to her, 'You see my daughter is alive, and is in the house of some fairies of an eagle which often comes upon my terrace; now you must do me the favor to find some way to kill this stepdaughter of mine, for I am afraid that some day or other she will return, and my husband, discovering this matter, will certainly kill me.' The witch answered, 'Oh, you need not be afraid of that; leave it to me.' What did the witch do? She had made a little basketful of sweetmeats, in which she put a charm; then she wrote a letter, pretending that it was her father, who, having learned where she was, wished to make her this present, and the letter pretended that her father was so glad to hear that she was with the fairies. Let us leave the witch who is arranging all this deception, and return to Ermellina (for so the young girl was named). The fairies had said to her, 'See, Ermellina, we are going away, and shall be absent four days; now in this time take good care not to open the door to anyone, for some treachery is being prepared for you by your stepmother.' She promised to open the door to no one: 'Do not be anxious, I am well off, and my stepmother has nothing to do with me.' But it was not so. The fairies went away, and the next day when Ermellina was alone, she heard a knocking at the door, and said to herself, 'Knock away! I don't open to anyone.' But meanwhile the blows redoubled, and curiosity forced her to look out of the window. What did she see? She saw one the servant girls of her own home (for the witch had disguised herself as one of her father's servants). 'O my dear Ermellina,' she said, 'your father is shedding tears of sorrow for you, because he really believed you were dead, but the eagle which carried you off came and told him the good news that you were here with the fairies. Meanwhile your father, not knowing what civility to show you, for he understands very well that you are in need of nothing, has thought to send you this little basket of sweetmeats.' Ermellina had not yet opened the door; the servant begged her to come down and take the basket and the letter, but she said, 'No, I wish nothing!' but finally, since women, and especially young girls, are fond of sweetmeats, she descended and opened the door. When the witch had given her the basket, she said, 'Eat this,' and broke off for her a piece of the sweetmeats which she had poisoned. When Ermellina took the first mouthful the old woman disappeared. Ermellina had scarcely time to close the door, when she fell down on the stairs. When the fairies returned they knocked at the door, but no one opened it for them; then they perceived that there had been some treachery, and began to weep. Then the chief of the fairies said, 'We must break open the door,' and so they did, and saw Ermellina dead on the stairs. Her other friends who loved her so dearly begged the chief of the fairies to bring her to life, but she would not, 'for,' she said, 'she has disobeyed me.' But one and the other asked her until she consented; she opened Ermellina's mouth, took out a piece of the sweetmeat which she had not yet swallowed, raised her up, and Ermellina came to life again. We can imagine what a pleasure it was for her fiends; but the chief of the fairies reproved her for her disobedience, and she promised not to do so again. Once more the fairies were obliged to depart. Their chief said, 'Remember, Ermellina: The first time I cured you, but the second I will have nothing to do with you.' Ermellina said they need not worry, that she would not open to anyone. But it was not so; for the eagle, thinking to increase her stepmother's anger, told her again that Ermellina was alive. The stepmother denied it all to the eagle, but she summoned anew the witch, and told her that her stepdaughter was still alive, saying, 'Either you will really kill her, or I will be avenged on you.' The old woman, finding herself caught, told her to buy a very handsome dress, one of the handsomest she could find, and transformed herself into a tailoress belonging to the family, took the dress, departed, went to poor Ermellina, knocked at the door and said, 'Open, open, for I am your tailoress.' Ermellina looked out of the window and saw her tailoress; and was, in truth, a little confused (indeed, anyone would have been so). The tailoress said, 'Come down, I must fit a dress on you.' She replied, 'No, no; for I have been deceived once.' 'But I am not the old woman,' replied the tailoress, 'you know me, for I have always made your dresses.' Poor Ermellina was persuaded, and descended the stairs; the tailoress took to flight while Ermellina was yet buttoning up the dress, and disappeared. Ermellina closed the door, and was mounting the stairs; but it was not permitted her to go up, for she fell down dead. Let us return to the fairies, who came home and knocked at the door; but what good did it do to knock! There was no longer anyone there. They began to weep. The chief of the fairies said, 'I told you that she would betray me again; but now I will have nothing more to do with her.' So they broke open the door, and saw the poor girl with the beautiful dress on; but she was dead. They all wept, because they really loved her. But there was nothing to do; the chief struck her enchanted wand, and commanded a beautiful rich casket all covered with diamonds and other precious stones to appear; then the others made a beautiful garland of flowers and gold, put it on the young girl, and then laid her in the casket, which was so rich and beautiful that it was marvelous to behold. Then the old fairy struck her wand as usual and commanded a handsome horse, the like of which not even the king possessed. Then they took the casket, put it on the horse's back, and led him into the public square of the city, and the chief of the fairies said, 'Go, and do not stop until you find someone who says to you, 'Stop, for pity's sake, for I have lost my horse for you.'' Now let us leave the afflicted fairies, and turn our attention to the horse, which ran away at full speed. Who happened to pass at that moment? The son of a king (the name of this king is not known); and saw this horse with that wonder on its back. Then the king began to spur his horse, and rode him so hard that he killed him, and had to leave him dead in the road; but the king kept running after the other horse. The poor king could endure it no longer; he saw himself lost, and exclaimed, 'Stop, for pity's sake, for I have lost my horse for you!' Then the horse stopped (for those were the words). When the king saw that beautiful girl dead in the casket, he thought no more about his own horse, but took the other to the city. The king's mother knew that her son had gone hunting; when she saw him returning with this loaded horse, she did not know what to think. The son had no father, wherefore he was all powerful. He reached the palace, had the horse unloaded, and the casket carried to his chamber; then he called his mother and said, 'Mother, I went hunting, but I have found a wife.' 'But what is it? A doll? A dead woman?' 'Mother,' replied her son, 'don't trouble yourself about what it is, it is my wife.' His mother began to laugh, and withdrew to her own room (what could she do, poor mother?). Now this poor king no longer went hunting, took no diversion, did not even go to the table, but ate in his own room. By a fatality it happened that war was declared against him, and he was obliged to depart. He called his mother, and said, 'Mother, I wish two careful chambermaids, whose business it shall be to guard this casket; for if on my return I find that anything has happened to my casket, I shall have the chambermaids killed.' His mother, who loved him, said, 'Go, my son, fear nothing, for I myself will watch over your casket.' He wept several days at being obliged to abandon this treasure of his, but there was no help for it, he had to go. After his departure he did nothing but commend his wife (so he called her) to his mother in his letters. Let us return to the mother, who no longer thought about the matter, not even to have the casket dusted; but all at once there came a letter which informed her that the king had been victorious, and should return to his palace in a few days. The mother called the chambermaids, and said to them, 'Girls, we are ruined.' They replied, 'Why, Highness?' 'Because my son will be back in a few days, and how have we taken care of the doll?' They answered, 'True, true; now let us go and wash the doll's face.' They went to the king's room and saw that the doll's face and hands were covered with dust and fly specks, so they took a sponge and washed her face, but some drops of water fell on her dress and spotted it. The poor chambermaids began to weep, and went to the queen for advice. The queen said, 'Do you know what to do! Call a tailoress, and have a dress precisely like this bought, and take off this one before my son comes.' They did so, and the chambermaids went to the room and began to unbutton the dress. The moment that they took off the first sleeve, Ermellina opened her eyes. The poor chambermaids sprang up in terror, but one of the most courageous said, 'I am a woman, and so is this one; she will not eat me.' To cut the matter short, she took off thee dress, and when it was removed Ermellina began to get out of the casket to walk about and see where she was. The chambermaids fell on their knees before her and begged her to tell them who she was. She, poor girl, told them the whole story. Then she said, 'I wish to know where I am.' Then the chambermaids called the king's mother to explain it to her. The mother did not fail to tell her everything, and she, poor girl, did nothing but weep penitently, thinking of what the fairies had done for her. The king was on the point of arriving, and his mother said to the doll, 'Come her; put on one of my best dresses.' In short, she arrayed her like a queen. Then came her son. They shut the doll up in a small room, so that she could not be seen. The king came with great joy, with trumpets blowing, and banners flying for the victory. But he took no interest in all this, and ran at once to his room to see the doll; the chambermaids fell on their knees before him saying that the doll smelled so badly that they could not stay in the palace, and were obliged to bury her. The king would not listen to this excuse, but at once called two of the palace servants to erect the gallows. His mother comforted him in vain: 'My son, it was a dead woman.' 'No, no, I will not listen to any reasons; dead or alive, you should have left it for me.' Finally, when his mother saw that he was in earnest about the gallows, she rang a little bell, and there cam forth no longer the doll, but a very beautiful girl, whose like was never seen. The king was amazed, and said, 'What is this!' Then his mother, the chambermaids, and Ermellina were obliged to tell him all that had happened. He said, 'Mother, since I adored her when dead, and called her my wife, now I mean her to be my wife in truth.' 'Yes, my son,' replied his mother, 'do so, for I am willing.' They arranged the wedding, and in a few days were man and wife.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
709,The Young Slave,"Italy, Giambattista Basile, Il Pentamerone","This story combines elements of Snow White (type 709) and Sleeping Beauty (type 410) tales. Giambattista Basile was born about 1575 in Naples and died 1632 in Giugliano, Campania. His Lo cunto de li cunti (The Story of Stories) was published in 1634, and named Il pentamerone by an editor because of its similarity to Boccaccio's Decamerone. The framework of Lo cunto de li cunti provides a context for ten women to tell one story each every day for five days. The fifty resulting stories, all based on oral tradition, comprise one of the monumental folktale collections of all time.","Giambattista Basile, Il Pentamerone; or, The Tale of Tales, translated by Richard Burton, vol. 1 (London: Henry and Company, 1893), day 2, tale 8, pp. 205-210.","Lisa is born from a rose-leaf, and dieth through a fairy's curse; her mother layeth her in a chamber and biddeth her brother not to open the door. But his wife being very jealous, wishing to see what is shut therein, openeth the door, and findeth Lisa well and alive, and attiring her in slave raiments, treateth her with cruelty. Lisa being at last recognised by her uncle, he sendeth his wife home to her relations, and giveth his niece in marriage. In days of yore, and in times long gone before, there lived a baron of Serva-Scura, and he had a young sister, a damsel of uncommon beauty, who often fared to the gardens in company of other young damsels of her age. One day of the days they went as usual, and beheld a rose-tree which had a beautiful fully opened rose upon it, and they agreed to wager that whosoever should jump clear above the tree without damaging the rose would win so much. Then the damsels began to jump one after the other, but none could clear the tree; till it coming to Cilia's turn (thus was the baron's sister hight), she took a little longer distance, and ran quickly, and jumped, and cleared the tree without touching the rose, and only a single leaf fell to the ground. She quickly picked it up, and swallowed it before any of the others perceived aught, and thus won the wager. Three days had hardly passed, when she felt that she was with child, and finding that such was the case she nearly died with grief, well wotting that she had done naught to bring such a catastrophe upon her, and she could not suppose in any way how this had occurred. Therefore she ran to the house of some fairies, her friends, and relating to them her case, they told her that there was no doubt but that she was with child of the leaf she had swallowed. Cilia hearing this hid her state as long as it was possible, but the time came at length for her delivery, and she gave birth secretly to a beauteous woman-child, her face like a moon in her fourteenth night, and she named her Lisa, and sent her to the fairies to be brought up. Now each of the fairies gave to the child a charm; but the last of them, wanting to run and see her, in so doing twisted the foot, and for the anguish of pain she felt cursed her, saying that when she should reach her seventh year, her mother in combing her hair would forget the comb sticking in the hair on her head, and this would cause her to die. And years went by till the time came, and the mishap took place, and the wretched mother was in despair at this great misfortune, and after weeping and wailing, ordered seven crystal chests one within the other, and had her child put within them, and then the chest was laid in a distant chamber in the palace; and she kept the key in her pocket. But daily after this her health failed, her cark and care bringing her to the last step of her life; and when she felt her end drawing near, she sent for her brother, and said to him, 'O my brother, I feel death slowly and surely come upon me, therefore I leave to thee all my belongings. Be thou the only lord and master; only must thou take a solemn oath that thou wilt never open the furtherest chamber in this palace, of which I consign to thee the key, which thou wilt keep within thy desk.' Her brother, who loved her dearly, gave her the required promise, and she bade him farewell and died. After a year had passed the baron took to himself a wife, and being one day invited to a hunt by some of his friends, he gave the palace in charge to his wife, begging her not to open the forbidden chamber, whose key was in his desk. But no sooner had he left the palace than dire suspicion entered in her mind, and turned by jealousy, and fired by curiosity (the first dower of womankind), she took the key, and opened the door, and beheld the seven crystal chests, through which she could perceive a beauteous child, lying as it were in a deep sleep. And she had grown as any other child of her age would, and the chests had lengthened with her. The jealous woman, sighting this charming creature, cried, 'Bravo my priest; key in waistband, and ram within; this is the reason why I was so earnestly begged not to open this door, so that I should not behold Mohammed, whom he worshippeth within these chests.' Thus saying, she pulled her out by the hair of her head; and whilst so doing the comb which her mother had left on her head fell off, and she came again to life, and cried out, 'O mother mine, O mother mine.' Answered the baroness,'I'll give thee mamma and papa;' and embittered as a slave, and an-angered as a bitch keeping watch on her young, and with poison full as an asp, she at once cut off the damsel's hair, and gave her a good drubbing, and arrayed her in rags. Every day she beat her on her head, and gave her black eyes, and scratched her face and made her mouth to bleed just as if she had eaten raw pigeons. But when her husband came back and saw this child so badly treated, he asked the reason of such cruelty; and she answered that she was a slave-girl sent her by her aunt, so wicked and perverse that it was necessary to beat her so as to keep her in order. After a time the baron had occasion to go to a country fair, and he, being a very noble and kind-hearted lord, asked of all his household people from the highest to the lowest not leaving out even the cats, what thing they would like him to bring for them, and one bade him buy one thing, and another another, till at the last he came to the young slave-girl. But his wife did not act as a Christian should, and said, 'Put this slave in the dozen, and let us do all things within the rule, as we all should like to make water in the same pot; leave her alone and let us not fill her with presumption.' But the lord, being by nature kind, would ask the young slave what she should like him to bring her, and she replied, 'I should like to have a doll, a knife, and some pumice stone; and if thou shouldst forget it, mayst thou be unable to pass the river which will be in thy way.' And the baron fared forth, and bought all the gifts he had promised to bring, but he forgot that which his niece had bade him bring; and when the lord on his way home came to the river, the river threw up stones, and carried away the trees from the mountain to the shore, and thus cast the basis of fear, and uplifted the wall of wonderment, so that it was impossible for the lord to pass that way; and he at last remembered the curse of the young slave, and turning back, bought her the three things, and then returned home, and gave to each the gifts he had brought. And he gave to Lisa also what pertained to her. As soon as she had her gifts in her possession, she retired in the kitchen, and putting the doll before her, she began to weep, and wail, and lament, telling that inanimate piece of wood the story of her travails, speaking as she would have done to a living being; and perceiving that the doll answered not, she took up the knife and sharpening it on the pumice stone, said, 'If thou wilt not answer me, I shall kill myself, and thus will end the feast;' and the doll swelled up as a bagpipe, and at last answered, 'Yes, I did hear thee, I am not deaf.' Now this went on for several days, till one day the baron, who had one of his portraits hung up near the kitchen, heard all this weeping and talking of the young slave-girl, and wanting to see to whom she spake, he put his eye to the keyhole, and beheld Lisa with the doll before her, to whom she related how her mother had jumped over the rose-tree, how she had swallowed the leaf, how herself had been born, how the fairies had each given her a charm, how the youngest fairy had cursed her, how the comb had been left on her head by her mother, how she had been put within seven crystal chests and shut up in a distant chamber, how her mother had died, and how she had left the key to her brother. Then she spoke of his going a-hunting, and the wife's jealousy, how she disobeyed her husband's behest and entered within the chamber, and how she had cut her hair, and how she treated her like a slave and beat her cruelly, and she wept and lamented saying, 'Answer me, O my doll; if not, I shall kill myself with this knife;' and sharpening it on the pumice stone, she was going to slay herself, when the baron kicked down the door, and snatched the knife out of her hands, and bade her relate to him the story. When she had ended, he embraced her as his own niece, and led her out of his palace to the house of a relative, where he commanded that she should be well entreated so that she should become cheerful in mind and healthy of body, as owing to the ill treatment she had endured she had lost all strength and healthful hue. And Lisa, receiving kindly treatment, in a few months became as beautiful as a goddess, and her uncle sent for her to come to his palace, and gave a great banquet in her honour, and presented her to his guests as his niece, and bade Lisa relate to them the story of her past troubles. Hearing the cruelty with which she had been entreated by his wife, all the guests wept. And he bade his wife return to her family, as for her jealousy and unseemly behaviour she was not worthy to be his mate; and after a time gave to his niece a handsome and worthy husband whom she loved; which touched the level that: When a man least goods of any kind expecteth, The heavens will pour upon him every grace. day 2, tale 8, pp. 205-210. Beauty (type 410) tales. Giambattista Basile was born about 1575 in Naples and died 1632 in Giugliano, Campania. His Lo cunto de li cunti (The Story of Stories) was published in 1634, and named Il pentamerone by an editor because of its similarity to Boccaccio's Decamerone. The framework of Lo cunto de li cunti provides a context for ten women to tell one story each every day for five days. The fifty resulting stories, all based on oral tradition, comprise one of the monumental folktale collections of all time.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
325,"Eucrates and Pancrates, the Egyptian Miracle Worker",Lucian,"This episode (untitled in the original) is taken from the dialogue The Lover of Lies. Lucian of Samasota (ca. A.D. 125 - ca, A.D. 180) was an Assyrian satirist who wrote in the Greek language. His purpose in The Lover of Lies was to belittle belief in supernatural tales of the type presented here. This tale is the basis of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's famous ballad 'Der Zauberlehrling' ('The Sorcerer's Apprentice,' 1797), which in turn inspired the symphonic poem L'apprenti sorcier (1897) by Paul Dukas. This story and music feature prominently in Walt Disney's animated film Fantasia (1940, 2000), with Mickey Mouse playing the role of the hapless sorcerer's apprentice.","A. M. Harmon, translator, Lucian, vol. 3 (London: William Heinemann; New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1921), pp. 371-77. English and Greek on opposite pages.","At last he persuaded me to leave all my servants behind in Memphis and to go with him quite alone, for we should not lack people to wait upon us; and thereafter we got on in that way. But whenever we came to a stopping place, the man would take either the bar of the door or the broom or even the pestle, put clothes upon it, say a certain spell over it, and make it walk, appearing to everyone else to be a man. It would go off and draw water and buy provisions and prepare meals and in every way deftly serve and wait upon us. Then, when he was through with its services, he would again make the broom a broom or the pestle a pestle by saying another spell over it. Though I was very keen to learn this from him, I could not do so, for he was jealous, although most ready to oblige in everything else. But one day I secretly overheard the spell -- it was just three syllables -- by taking my stand in a dark place. He went off to the square after telling the pestle what it had to do, and on the next day, while he was transacting some business in the square, I took the pestle, dressed it up in the same way, said the syllables over it, and told it to carry water. When it had filled and brought in the jar, I said, 'Stop! Don't carry any more water. Be a pestle again!' But it would not obey me now; it kept straight on carrying until it filled the house with water for us by pouring it in! At my wit's end over the thing, for I feared that Pancrates might come back and be angry, as was indeed the case, I took an axe and cut the pestle in two; but each part took a jar and began to carry water, with the result that instead of one servant I had now two. Meanwhile Pancrates appeared on the scene, and comprehending what had happened, turned them into wood again, just as they were before the spell, and then for his own part left me to my own devices without warning, taking himself off out of sight somewhere. 'Yes,' said he. 'Only half way, however, for I cannot bring it back to its original form if it once becomes a water carrier, but we shall be obliged to let the house be flooded with the water that is poured in!' 'Will you never stop telling such buncombe, old men as you are? ' said I. ' If you will not, at least for the sake of these lads put your amazing and fearful tales off to some other time, so that they may not be filled up with terrors and strange figments before we realise it. You ought to be easy with them and not accustom them to hear things like this which will abide with them and annoy them their lives long and will make them afraid of every sound by filling them with all sorts of superstition.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
325,Magic Book,Germany,NA,"Bernhard Baader, 'Zauberbuch,' Volkssagen aus dem Lande Baden und den angrenzenden Gegenden (Karlsruhe: Verlag der Herder'schen Buchhandlung, 1851), no. 281, p. 266.","A pastor at Krailsheim had old large books secured with chains to the walls and ceilings of a vaulted room. One time a servant girl was alone in this room, and out of curiosity she opened one of the books and read aloud a passage from it. Suddenly the entire room was crawling with mice, causing the servant girl to cry for help. At her cry the pastor the pastor came to her, and she hurriedly told him what had happened. He then read the passage from end to beginning, upon which the mice all disappeared. Baden und den angrenzenden Gegenden (Karlsruhe: Verlag der Herder'schen Buchhandlung, 1851), no. 281, p. 266.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
325,The Book of Magic,Russia,NA,"John T. Naaké, Slavonic Fairy Tales: Collected and translated from the Russian, Polish, Servian, and Bohemian (London: Henry S. King and Company, 1874), pp. 190-93.","He had read about half of the names when he raised his head, and looking around him, saw that the room was full of diabolical looking beings. The soldier was struck with terror, and not knowing what to do, began again to read the book. After reading for some little time, he again looked round him; the number of spirits had increased. Again he read, and having finished the book, looked again around him. By this time the number of demons had so much increased that there was barely space for them in the room. They sat upon each other's shoulders, and pressed continually forward round the reader. The soldier saw that the situation was serious; he shut the book, closed his eyes, and anxiously awaited his comrade. The spirits pressed closer and closer upon him, crying, 'Give us work to do -- quick!' The soldier reflected awhile, and then said, 'Fill up the cisterns of all the baths in the town with water brought thither in a sieve.' The demons flew away. In two minutes they returned and said, 'It is done! Give us some more work to do -- quick!' ' Pull the Voivode's [governor's] house down, brick by brick -- but take care you do not touch or disturb the inmates; then build it up again as it was before.' The goblins disappeared, but in two minutes returned. 'It is done!' they cried. 'Give us more work -- quick!' 'Go,' said the soldier,' and count the grains of sand that lie at the bottom of the Volga, the number of drops of water that are in the river, and of the fish that swim in it, from its source to its mouth.' The spirits flew away; but in another minute they returned, having executed their task. Thus, before the soldier could think of some new labor to be done, the old one was completed, and the demons were again at his side demanding more work. When he began to think what he should give them, they pressed round him, and threatened him with instant death if he did not give them something to do. The soldier was becoming exhausted, and there was yet no sign of his comrade's return. What course should he take? How deliver himself from the evil spirits? The soldier thought to himself, 'While I was reading the book, not one of the demons came near me. Let me try to read it again; perhaps that will keep them off.' Again he began to read the book of magic, but he soon observed that as he read, the number of phantoms increased, so that soon such a host of the spirit world surrounded him that the very lamp was scarcely visible. When the soldier hesitated at a word, or paused to rest himself, the goblins became more restless and violent, demanding, 'Give us work to do! Give us work!' The soldier was almost worn out, and unhappily knew not how to help himself. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, 'The spirits appeared when I read the book from the beginning; let me now read it from the end, perhaps this well send them way.' He turned the book round and began to read it from the end. After reading for some time he observed that the number of spirits decreased; the lamp began again to burn brightly, and there was an empty space around him. The soldier was delighted, and continued his reading. He read and read until he had read them all away. And thus he saved himself from the demons. His comrade came in soon afterwards. The soldier told him what had happened. 'It is fortunate for you,' said his comrade, 'that you began to read the book backwards in time. Had you not thus read them away by midnight they would have devoured you.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
325,The Farmer's Wife of Deloraine,Scotland,Henderson does not give this story a title.,"William Henderson, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866), pp. 159-61.","Witchcraft is not named in the next story, but we can scarcely be wrong in assuming it to be the agent at work in it. We must premise that it was, perhaps still is, customary in the Lowlands of Scotland, as in other secluded districts, for tailors to leave their workshops and go into the farmhouses of the neighborhood to work by the day. The farmer's wife of Deloraine thus engaged a tailor with his workmen and apprentices for the day, begging them to come in good time in the morning. They did so, and partook of the family breakfast of porridge and milk. During the meal, one of the apprentices observed that the milk jug was almost empty, on which the mistress slipped out of the back door with a basin in her hand to get a fresh supply. The lad's curiosity was roused, for he had heard there was no more milk in the house; so he crept after her, hid himself behind the door, and saw her turn a pin in the wall, on which a stream of pure milk flowed into the basin. She twirled the pin, and the milk stopped. Coming back, she presented the tailors with the bowl of milk, and they gladly washed down the rest of their porridge with it. About noon, while our tailors were busily engaged with the gudeman's wardrobe, one of them complained of thirst, and wished for a bowl of milk like the morning's. 'Is that a'?' said the apprentice; 'ye'se get that.' The mistress was out of the way, so he left his work, found his way to the spot he had marked in the morning, twirled the pin, and quickly filled a basin. But, alas! he could not then stay the stream. Twist the pin as he would, the milk still continued to flow. He called the other lads, and implored them to come and help him; but they could only bring such tubs and buckets as they found in the kitchen, and these were soon filled. When the confusion was at its height, the mistress appeared among them, looking as black as thunder; while she called out, in a mocking voice, 'A'ye loons! Ye hae drawn a' the milk fra every coo between the head o' Yarrow an' the foot o't. This day ne'er a coo will gie her maister a drop o' milk, though he war gawing to starve.' The tailors slunk away abashed, and from that day forward the wives of Deloraine have fed their tailors on nothing but chappit 'taties and kale. 159-61.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
325,The Magic Whistle,Iceland,"Extracted from Jacqueline Simpson, Scandinavian Folktales (London: Penguin Books, 1988), p. 130. &copy 1988 by Jacqueline Simpson. Simpson's source: Jón Árnason, Islenzkar Þjoðsögur og Æfintýri, vol. 1 (Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1862), pp. 495-96.",NA,"Sæmund the Wise owned a whistle that would sommon one or more imps, and they would have to serve the person who had blown the whistle. One day a servant girl discovered the whistle, which Sæmund had hidden in his bed. Her curiousity led her to pick it up and blow it. Immediately an imp appeared and demanded a task from her. Now ten of Sæmund's sheep had been slaughtered that day, and their fleeces were lying outside. The girl told the imp to count the hairs on all the fleeces, and that if he could do so before she finished making the bed, she would belong to him. The imp hurried away and began his task, but the girl was even faster. He still had one fleece left to count when she had finished making the bed, so he lost the bargain. Later Sæmund asked the girl if she had found anything in the bed. She told him everything, and he was pleased with her presence of mind. (London: Penguin Books, 1988), p. 130. &copy 1988 by Jacqueline Simpson. Simpson's source: Jón Árnason, Islenzkar Þjoðsögur og Æfintýri, vol. 1 (Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1862), pp. 495-96.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
325,The Master and His Pupil,England,"This story is reprinted in Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 73-76.","S. Baring-Gould, appendix to William Henderson, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866), pp. 343-44.","There was once a very learned man in the north country who knew all the languages under the sun, and who was acquainted with all the mysteries of creation. He had one big book bound in black calf and clasped with iron, and with iron corners, and chained to a table which was made fast to the floor; and when he read out of this book, he unlocked it with an iron key, and none but he read from it, for it contained all the secrets of the spiritual world. It told how many angels there were in heaven, and now they marched in their ranks, and sang in their quires, and what were their several functions, and what was the name of each great angel of might. And it told of the devils of hell, how many of them there were, and what were their several powers, and their labors, and their names, and how they might be summoned, and how tasks might be imposed on them, and how they might be chained to be as slaves to man. Now the master had a pupil who was but a foolish lad, and he acted as servant to the great master, but never was he suffered to look into the black book, hardly to enter the private room. One day the master was out, and then the lad, impelled by curiosity, hurried to the chamber where his master kept his wondrous apparatus for changing copper into gold, and lead into silver, and where was his mirror in which he could see all that was passing in the world, and where was the shell which when held to the ear whispered all the words that were being spoken by anyone the master desired to know about. The lad tried in vain with the crucibles to turn copper and lead into gold and silver -- he looked long and vainly into the mirror; smoke and clouds fleeted over it, but he saw nothing plain, and the shell to his ear produced only indistinct mutterings, like the breaking of distant seas on an unknown shore. 'I can do nothing,' he said, 'as I know not the right words to utter, and they are locked up in yon book.' He looked round, and, see! the book was unfastened; the master had forgotten to lock it before he went out. The boy rushed to it, and unclosed the volume. It was written with red and black ink, and much therein he could not understand; but he put his finger on a line, and spelled it through. At once the room was darkened, and the house trembled; a clap of thunder rolled through the passage of the old mansion, and there stood before the terrified youth a horrible form, breathing fire, and with eyes like burning lamps. It was the Evil One, Beelzebub, whom he had called up to serve him. 'Set me a task!' said a voice, like the roaring of an iron furnace. The boy only trembled, and his hair stood up. 'Set me a task, or I shall strangle thee!' But the lad could not speak. Then the evil spirit stepped towards him, and putting forth his hands touched his throat. The fingers burned his flesh. 'Set me a task.' 'Water yon flower,' cried the boy in despair, pointing to a geranium which stood in a pot on the floor. Instantly the spirit left the room, but in another instant he returned with a barrel on his back, and poured its contents over the flower; and again and again he went and came, and poured more and more water, till the floor of the room was ankle-deep. 'Enough, enough!' gasped the lad; but the Evil One heeded him not; the lad knew not the words by which to dismiss him, and still he fetched water. It rose to the boy's knees, and still more water was poured. It mounted to his waist, and Beelzebub ceased not bringing barrels full. It rose to his armpits, and he scrambled to the tabletop. And now the water stood up to the window and washed against the glass, and swirled around his feet on the table. It still rose; it reached his breast. In vain he cried; the evil spirit would not be dismissed, and to this day he would have been pouring water, and would have drowned all Yorkshire, had not the master remembered on his journey that he had not locked his book, and had therefore returned, and at the moment when the water was bubbling about the pupil's chin, spoken the words which cast Beelzebub back into his fiery home. on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1866), pp. 343-44. This story is reprinted in Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 73-76.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
325,The Schoolmaster at Bury,England,"Burne's source: The dictation of an aunt on June 8, 1890. The aunt gave it as 'from the relation of Anne Bentham,' a housemaid, 'circa 1825.' Burne does not give this episode a title.","Charlotte S. Burne, 'Reminiscences of Lancashire and Cheshire When George IV. Was King,' Folklore, vol. 20, no. 2 (June 30, 1909), p. 205.","Mr. Hodgson knew that the only way to get rid of him would be to give him a task which he could not perform, and that, if in three trials they could not hit upon such a task, the case would be hopeless. Mr. Hodgson first desired him to count the blades of grass in the castle croft. This task the devil performed directly. He was next ordered to count the grains of sand on the school brow. This gave him no more trouble than the former feat. Only one chance was left. A happy thought occurred to Mr. Hodgson. He commanded the devil to count the letters in the large Bible in the parish church. In an instant the devil descended to the lower regions through the floor of the school, leaving a great crack on the hearthstone where he passed through, to attest the truth of this story to future generations.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,Siegfried and Chriemhilt,German-American,"Source (JSTORE): W. W. Newell, 'Tales of the Blue Mountains in Pennsylvania,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 11, no. 40 (January - March 1898), p. 77.","Source (JSTORE): W. W. Newell, 'Tales of the Blue Mountains in Pennsylvania,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 11, no. 40 (January - March 1898), p. 77.","A youth of the name of Siegfried, having paid a visit to his promised bride, rather singularly called Chriemhilt, crossed the mountains during a thunderstorm and disappeared. Sixty-five years, a month, and a fortnight later the bride, now grown to an old woman and still unmarried, received a visit from this lover, who appeared on horseback, still wearing the costume habitual in the time when he had been lost to knowledge. This interview took place, according to the tale, in the presence of children. The old woman afterwards explained that she had been accosted by her lover, who was under the impression that he had remained only a few hours in the mountains with the spirits, whose splendid palaces and golden streets he described, and who were able to pass at will and in a moment from one end of the mountains to the other. The woman refused to accompany him, and one of the spirits of the mountain appeared, who claimed the suitor as his captive. At the prayer of Chriemhilt, however, he consented that after her death the prisoner should be released, and reunion effected in heaven. Such is the folktale, obtained from the relation of one of the children present at the advent of the suitor, and who in after days narrated the incident.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,Sweet William's Ghost,Scotland,"Percy's monumental collection of 'old heroic ballads, songs, and other pieces of our earlier poets' was first published in London in 1765.","Thomas Percy, Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. 3 (London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, and Company, 1887), book 2, no. 6, pp. 130-13.","There came a ghost to Margaret's door, With many a grievous grone, And ay he tirled at the pin; But answer made she none. Is this my father Philip? Or is't my brother John? Or is't my true love Willie, From Scotland new come home? Tis not thy father Philip; Nor yet thy brother John: But tis thy true love Willie From Scotland new come home, O sweet Margret! O dear Margret! I pray thee speak to mee: Give me my faith and troth, Margret, As I gave it to thee. Thy faith and troth thou'se nevir get, Of me shalt nevir win, Till that thou come within my bower, And kiss my cheek and chin. If I should come within thy bower, I am no earthly man: And should I kiss thy rosy lipp, Thy days will not be lang. O sweet Margret, O dear Margret, Till thou take me to yon kirk yard, And wed me with a ring. My bones are buried in a kirk yard Afar beyond the sea, And it is but my sprite, Margret, That's speaking now to thee. She stretched out her lilly-white hand, As for to do her best: Hae there your faith and troth, Willie, God send your soul good rest. Now she has kilted her robes of green, A piece below her knee: And a' the live-lang winter night The dead corps followed shee. Is there any room at you head, Willie? Or any room at your feet? Or any room at your side, Willie, Wherein that I may creep? There's nae room at my head, Margret, There's nae room at my feet, There's no room at my side, Margret, My coffin is made so meet. Then up and crew the red red cock, And up then crew the gray: Tis time, tis time, my dear Margret, That I were gane away. No more the ghost to Margret said, But, with a grievous grone, Evanish'd in a cloud of mist, And left her all alone. O stay, my only true love, stay, The constant Margret cried: Wan grew her cheeks, she clos'd her een, Stretch'd her saft limbs, and died. no. 6, pp. 130-13. pieces of our earlier poets' was first published in London in 1765.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,The Abbess and the Devil,Germany,"Rölleke's source: Unpublished papers of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Staatsbibliothek Berlin. This story combines elements of type 365 tales with Faust and witchcraft traditions. Click below for links to legends of these latter two types: Faust legends. Witchraft legends. Faust legends. Witchraft legends.","Jacob und Wilhelm Grimm, Märchen aus dem Nachlaß, edited by Heinz Rölleke (Bonn: Bouvier Verlag Herbert Grundmann, 1979), Nr. 26, pp. 66-67.","About a hundred years ago [in the eighteenth century] a noblewoman from Oberland was engaged to marry a very handsome officer. Shortly before their marriage he was called to the field of battle, where he remained. The noblewoman was so beside herself that in her despair she cursed God. In the night the devil came to her in the form of her beloved, and he called upon her to pledge her soul to him. In return he would accompany her, in this form, as long as she lived. Further, he would give her great magic power. She agreed to this, and the devil remained with her. He was not exactly invisible, but still secret, and no one knew about him. After a while he advised her to enter a convent, which she did. She would now lock herself in her cell with her beloved, while her phantom form was praying in the church. She gained the reputation of great piety, and soon afterward became the abbess. From this time forward miraculous events began to occur in the convent. Most prominently, from time to time several nuns were attacked with long-lasting and unknown ailments, which she was able to cure through her apparent intercession. Thus her holy reputation grew ever greater. The first suspicion came from several children who often visited the convent. The abbess, who loved children, would show them magic tricks whenever she was alone with them. She told others about this, although she had strictly forbidden them to do so. Above all, the abbess would ask the children if they would like her to make some little mice for them, whereupon the table would immediately be crawling with small, tame mice. The children were too young for one to give much credibility to their talk, but once a young nun, on her way to church, passed by the abbess's cell and heard the abbess whispering lightly with a man's voice. Curious, she looked through the keyhole and saw the abbess and an officer. But when she entered the church she saw the abbess's form praying there before the altar, and she feinted with fright. Afterward she reported what she had seen. The abbess was arrested in her bed that night. She very forward, saying that she would get up and go along with them if they would just reach her stick to her. Someone standing there threw the first stick to her that came to hand, but she refused it, asking for a specific other one. They took note of this and refused to give it to her, in spite of her cunning pretenses. Even after she was put in jail, she continued to try to get hold of the stick through all kinds of tricks, but to no avail. She finally lost her daring, and shortly before she was executed, she confessed. If she had gotten hold of the stick, no power on earth would have been able to restrain her. She was finally burned to death, after having confessed many things. Nachlaß, edited by Heinz Rölleke (Bonn: Bouvier Verlag Herbert Grundmann, 1979), Nr. 26, pp. 66-67. Staatsbibliothek Berlin. This story combines elements of type 365 tales with Faust and witchcraft traditions. Click below for links to legends of these latter two types:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,The Deacon of Myrká,Iceland,NA,"Jón Arnason, Icelandic Legends, translated by George E. J. Powell and Eiríkur Magnússon (London: Richard Bentley, 1864), pp. 173-77.","A long time ago a deacon lived at Myrká, in Egafjördur. He was in love with a girl named Gudrún, who dwelt in a farm on the opposite side of the valley, separated from his house by a river. The deacon had a horse with a gray mane, which he was always in the habit of riding, and which he called Faxi. A short time before Christmas, the deacon rode to the farm at which his betrothed lived and invited her to join in the Christmas festivities at Myrká, promising to fetch her on Christmas Eve. Some time before he had started out on this ride there had been heavy snow and frost, but this very day there came so rapid a thaw that the river over which the deacon had safely ridden, trusting to the firmness of the ice, became impassable during the short time he spent with his betrothed. The floods rose, and huge masses of drift ice were whirled down the stream. When the deacon had left the farm, he rode on to the river, and being deep in thought did not perceive at first the change that had taken place. As soon, however, as he saw in what state the stream was, he rode up the banks until he came to a bridge of ice, on to which he spurred his horse. But when he arrived at the middle of the bridge, it broke beneath him, and he was drowned in the flood. Next morning, a neighboring farmer saw the deacon's horse grazing in a field, but could discover nothing of its owner, whom he had seen the day before cross the river, but not return. He at once suspected what had occurred, and going down to the river, found the corpse of the deacon, which had drifted to the bank, with all the flesh torn off the back of his head, and the bare white skull visible. So he brought the body back to Myrká, where it was buried a week before Christmas. Up to Christmas Eve the river continued so swollen that no communication could take place between the dwellers on the opposite banks, but that morning it subsided, and Gudrún, utterly ignorant of the deacon's death, looked forward with joy to the festivities to which she had been invited by him. In the afternoon Gudrún began to dress in her best clothes, but before she had quite finished, she heard a knock at the door of the farm. One of the maidservants opened the door, but seeing nobody there, thought it was because the night was not sufficiently light, for the moon was hidden for the time by clouds. So saying, 'Wait there till I bring a light,' went back into the house. But she had no sooner shut the outer door behind her, than the knock was repeated, and Gudrún cried out from her room, 'It is someone waiting for me.' As she had by this time finished dressing, she slipped only one sleeve of her winter cloak on, and threw the rest over her shoulders hurriedly. When she opened the door, she saw the well known Faxi standing outside, and by him a man whom she knew to be the deacon. Without a word he placed Gudrún on the horse, and mounted in front of her himself, and off they rode. When they came to the river it was frozen over, all except the current in the middle, which the frost had not yet hardened. The horse walked onto the ice, and leaped over the black and rapid stream which flowed in the middle. At the same moment the head of the deacon nodded forward, so that his hat fell over his eyes, and Gudrún saw the large patch of bare skull gleam white in the midst of his hair. Directly afterwards, a cloud moved from before the moon, and the deacon said, The moon glides, Death rides, Seest thou not the white place In the back of my head Garún, Garún? Not a word more was spoken till they came to Myrká, where they dismounted. Then the man said, Wait here for me, Garún, Garún, While I am taking Faxi, Faxi, Outside the hedges, the hedges! When he had gone, Gudrún saw near her in the churchyard, where she was standing, an open grave, and half sick with horror, ran to the church porch, and seizing the rope, tolled the bells with all her strength. But as she began to ring them, she felt someone grasp her and pull so fiercely at her cloak that it was torn off her, leaving only the one sleeve into which she had thrust her arm before starting from home. Then turning round, she saw the deacon jump headlong into the yawning grave, with the tattered cloak in his hand, and the heaps of earth on both sides fall in over him, and close the grave up to the brink. Gudrún knew now that it was the deacon's ghost with whom she had had to do, and continued ringing the bells till she roused all the farm servants at Myrká. That same night, after Gudrún had got shelter at Myrká and was in bed, the deacon came again from his grave and endeavored to drag her away, so that no one could sleep for the noise of their struggle. This was repeated every night for a fortnight, and Gudrún could never be left alone for a single instant, lest the goblin deacon should get the better of her. From time to time, also, a neighboring priest came and sat on the edge of the bed, reading the Psalms of David to protect her against this ghostly persecution. But nothing availed, till they sent for a man from the north country, skilled in witchcraft, who dug up a large stone from the field, and placed it in the middle of the guest room at Myrká. When the deacon rose that night from his grave and came into the house to torment Gudrún, this man seized him, and by uttering potent spells over him, forced him beneath the stone, and exorcised the passionate demon that possessed him, so that there he lies in peace to this day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,The Ghost Husband,Native American,NA,"Source (books.google.com): J. Owen Dorsey, 'Teton Folk-Lore,' The American Anthropologist, vol. 2 (1889), p. 148.","A young Lakota died just before marrying a young girl whom he loved. The girl mourned his death, so she cut her hair here and there with a dull knife, and gashed her limbs, just as if she had been an old woman. The ghost returned and took her for his wife. Whenever the tribe camped for the night the ghost's wife pitched her tent at some distance from the others, and when the people removed their camp the woman and her husband kept some distance behind the main body. The ghost always told the woman what to do; and he brought game to her regularly, which the wife gave to the people in exchange for other articles. The people could neither see nor hear the ghost, but they heard his wife address him. He always sent word to the tribe when there was to be a high wind or heavy rain. He could read the thoughts of his wife, so that she need not speak a word to him, and when she felt a desire for anything he soon obtained it for her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,The Girls and Their Suitors,Lithuania,NA,"Source (books.google.com): August Schleicher, 'Vom Mädchen und ihrem Freier,' Litauische Märchen, Sprichworte, Rätsel und Lieder (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1857), pp. 34-35. Source (Internet Archive): August Schleicher, 'Vom Mädchen und ihrem Freier,' Litauische Märchen, Sprichworte, Rätsel und Lieder (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1857), pp. 34-35.","A girl had a suitor, and the suitor died. After she had mourned for a few weeks she went to a dance with one of her girlfriends whose fiancé also had died. On their way they passed by the graveyard. Standing there, they said, 'Get up, you brothers. Who else will take us to the dance?' After they had walked on the two dead ones arose and followed after them. The girls had scarcely entered the room where people were dancing when the two suitors came inside as well and danced with them. While dancing the girls stepped on their partners' feet, and they noticed that their boots were empty, so they knew that they were dancing with dead men. The dead men swung the girls about so hard that they almost danced them to death. The girls asked for permission to go outside and get some fresh air, but their partners did not want them to leave. The girls finally said, 'We'll hang our keys at the doorway, and when you hear them rattling, you'll know that we've come back inside,' so the men agreed to let them go outside. The men heard the keys rattling, but the girls did not return. Instead they they ran and ran and ran until they came to a spinning room. They ran inside and hid behind the stove. An old woman was in the spinning room drying flachs. The girls begged her that if anyone came she should not let them in. After the dead men had waited a long time for the girls they took after them, following their footsteps. They came to the spinning room and said, 'Good evening! Did two girls come in here?' The old woman said 'No.' The two said, 'They ran to this place. They must be here.' The old woman said, 'Sit down, my sons. I'll tell you about how flachs suffers.' The two sat down and listened. She told them how flachs was sown, harvested, carded, spun, woven, bleached, sewn, worn, patched, and finally how the ragman collected it and made paper from the scraps. When the old woman finally came to the end of her speech the rooster crowed, and the two dead men had to leave. As they departed they said, 'It is your luck that with her speech the woman kept us from following you.' With that they disappeared from sight, and the two girls remained alive.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,The Lover's Ghost,Hungary,NA,"W. Henry Jones and Lewis L. Kropf, The Folk-Tales of the Magyars (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by Elliot Stock, 1889), pp. 278-82.","Somewhere, I don't know where, even beyond the Operencian Seas, there was once a maid. She had lost her father and mother, but she loved the handsomest lad in the village where she lived. They were as happy together as a pair of turtle-doves in the wood. They fixed the day of the wedding at a not very distant date, and invited their most intimate friends to it; the girl, her godmother -- the lad, a dear old friend of his. Time went on, and the wedding would have taken place in another week, but in the meantime war broke out in the country. The king called out all his fighting-men to march against the enemy. The sabres were sharpened, and gallant fellows, on fine, gaily-caparisoned horses, swarmed to the banners of the king, like bees. John, our hero, too, took leave of his pretty fiancée; he led out his grey charger, mounted, and said to his young bride, 'I shall be back in three years, my dove; wait until then, and don't be afraid; I promise to bring you back my love and remain faithful to you, even were I tempted by the beauty of a thousand other girls.' The lass accompanied him as far as the frontier, and before parting solemnly promised to him, amidst a shower of tears, that all the treasures of the whole world should not tempt her to marry another, even if she had to wait ten years for her John. The war lasted two years, and then peace was concluded between the belligerents. The girl was highly pleased with the news, because she expected to see her lover return with the others. She grew impatient, and would sally forth on the road by which he was expected to return, to meet him. She would go out often ten times a day, but as yet she had no tidings of her John. Three years elapsed; four years had gone by, and the bridegroom had not yet returned. The girl could not wait any longer, but went to see her godmother, and asked for her advice, who (I must tell you, between ourselves) was a witch. The old hag received her well, and gave her the following direction: 'As it will be full moon tomorrow night, go into the cemetery, my dear girl, and ask the gravedigger to give you a human skull. If he should refuse, tell him that it is I who sent you. Then bring the skull home to me, and we shall place it in a huge earthenware pot, and boil it with some millet, for, say, two hours. You may be sure it will let you know whether your lover is alive yet or dead, and perchance it will entice him here.' The girl thanked her for her good advice, and went to the cemetery next night. She found the gravedigger enjoying his pipe in front of the gate. 'Good evening to you, dear old father.' 'Good evening, my lass! What are you doing here at this hour of the night?' 'I have come to you to ask you to grant me a favour.' 'Let me hear what it is; and, if I can, I will comply with your request.' 'Well, then, give me a human skull!' 'With pleasure; but what do you intend to do with it?' 'I don't know exactly, myself; my godmother has sent me for it.' 'Well and good; here is one, take it.' The girl carefully wrapped up the skull, and ran home with it. Having arrived at home, she put it in a huge earthenware pot with some millet, and at once placed it on the fire. The millet soon began to boil and throw up bubbles as big as two fists. The girl was eagerly watching it and wondering what would happen. When, all of a sudden, a huge bubble formed on the surface of the boiling mass, and went off with a loud report like a musket. The next moment the girl saw the skull balanced on the rim of the pot. 'He has started,' it said in a vicious tone. The girl waited a little longer, when two more loud reports came from the pot, and the skull said, 'He has got halfway.' Another few moments elapsed, when the pot gave three very loud reports, and the skull was heard to say, 'He has arrived outside in the yard.' The maid thereupon rushed out, and found her lover standing close to the threshold. His charger was snow-white, and he himself was clad entirely in white, including his helmet and boots. As soon as he caught sight of the girl, he asked, 'Will you come to the country where I dwell?' 'To be sure, my dear Jack; to the very end of the world.' 'Then come up into my saddle.' The girl mounted into the saddle, and they embraced and kissed one another ever so many times. 'And is the country where you live very far from here?' 'Yes, my love, it is very far; but in spite of the distance it will not take us long to get there.' Then they started on their journey. When they got outside the village, they saw ten mounted men rush past, all clad in spotless white, like to the finest wheat flour. As soon as they vanished, another ten appeared, and could be very well seen in the moonlight, when suddenly John said: How beautifully shines the moon, the moon; How beautifully march past the dead. Are you afraid, my love, my little Judith?' 'I am not afraid while I can see you, my dear Jack.' As they proceeded, the girl saw a hundred mounted men; they rode past in beautiful military order, like soldiers. So soon as the hundred vanished another hundred appeared and followed the others. Again her lover said: Are you afraid, my love, my little Judith? 'I am not afraid while I can see you, my darling Jack.' And as they proceeded the mounted men appeared in fast increasing numbers, so that she could not count them; some rode past so close that they nearly brushed against her. 'I am not afraid while I see you, Jack, my darling.' 'You are a brave and good girl, my dove; I see that you would do anything for me. As a reward, you shall have everything that your heart can wish when we get to my new country.' They went along till they came to an old burial-ground, which was inclosed by a black wall. John stopped here and said to his sweetheart, 'This is our country, my little Judith, we shall soon come to our house.' The house to which John alluded was an open grave, at the bottom of which an empty coffin could be seen with the lid off. 'Go in, my darling,' said the lad. 'You had better go first, my love Jack,' replied the girl. 'You know the way.' Thereupon the lad descended into the grave and laid down in the coffin; but the lass, instead of following him, ran away as fast as her feet would carry her, and took refuge in a mansion that was situated a couple of miles from the cemetery. When she had reached the mansion she shook every door, but none of them would open to her entreaties, except one that led to a long corridor, at the end of which there was a dead body laid out in state in a coffin. The lass secreted herself in a dark corner of the fireplace. As soon as John discovered that his bride had run away he jumped out of the grave and pursued the lass, but in spite of all his exertions could not overtake her. When he reached the door at the end of the corridor he knocked and exclaimed, 'Dead man, open the door to a fellow dead man.' The corpse inside began to tremble at the sound of these words. Again said Jack, 'Dead man, open the door to a fellow dead man.' Now the corpse sat up in the coffin, and as Jack repeated a third time the words 'Dead man, open the door to a fellow dead man,' the corpse walked to the door and opened it. 'Is my bride here?' 'Yes, there she is, hiding in the corner of the fireplace.' 'Come and let us tear her in pieces.' And with this intention they both approached the girl, but just as they were about to lay hands upon her the cock in the loft began to crow, and announced daybreak, and the two dead men disappeared. The next moment a most richly attired gentleman entered from one of the neighbouring rooms. Judging by his appearance one would have believed it was the king himself, who at once approached the girl and overwhelmed her with his embraces and kisses. 'Thank you so much. The corpse that you saw here laid out in state was my brother. I have already had him buried three hundred and sixty-five times with the greatest pomp, but he has returned each time. As you have relieved me of him, my sweet, pretty darling, you shall become mine and I yours; not even the hoe and the spade shall separate us from one another!' The girl consented to the proposal of the rich gentleman, and they got married and celebrated their wedding feast during the same winter. This is how far the tale goes. This is the end of it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,The Lovers of Porthangwartha,England,NA,"Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall, 1st series (London: John Camden Hotten, 1865), pp. 284-86.","The names of the youth and maiden who fixed the term of the Lover's Cove upon this retired spot have passed from the memory of man. A simple story, however, remains, the mere fragment, without doubt, of a longer and more ancient tale. The course of love with this humble pair did not run smooth. On one side or the other the parents were decidedly opposed to the intimacy which existed, and by their persecutions, they so far succeeded, that the young man was compelled to emigrate to some far distant land. In this cove the lovers met for the last time in life, and vowed under the light of the full moon, that living or dead they would meet at the end of three years. The young woman remained with her friends -- the young man went to the Indies. Time passed on, and the three years, which had been years of melancholy to both, were expiring. One moonlight night, when the sea was tranquil as a mirror, an old crone sat on the edge of the cliff 'making her charms.' She saw a figure--she was sure it was a spirit, very like the village maiden--descend into the cove, and seat herself upon a rock, around two-thirds of which the light waves were rippling. On this rock sat the maiden, looking anxiously out over the sea, until, from the rising of the tide, she was completely surrounded. The old woman called; but in vain--the maiden was unconscious of any voice. There she sat, and the tide was rising rapidly around her. The old woman, now seeing the danger in which she was, resolved to go down into the cove, and, if possible, awaken the maiden to a sense of her danger. To do this, it was necessary to go round a projecting pile of rocks. While doing this, she lost sight of the object of her interest, and much was her surprise, when she again saw the maiden, to perceive a young sailor by her side, with his arm around her waist. Conceiving that help had arrived, the old woman sat herself down on the slope of the descending path, and resolved patiently to await the arrival of the pair on shore, and then to rate the girl soundly. She sat watching this loving and lovely pair, lighted as they were on the black rock by a full flood of moonshine. There they sat, and the tide rose and washed around them. Never were boy and girl so made, and at last the terrified old woman shrieked with excitement. Suddenly they appeared to float off upon the waters. She thought she heard their voices; but there was no sound of terror. Instead of it a tranquil murmuring music, like the voice of doves, singing: Down, down into the sea passed the lovers. Awestruck, the old woman looked on, until, as she said, 'At last they turned round, looked me full in the face, smiling like angels, and, kissing each other, sank to rise no more.' They tell us that the body of the young woman was found a day or two after in a neighboring cove, and that intelligence eventually reached England that the young man had been killed on this very night.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
365,The Specter Bridegroom,England,NA,"Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall, 1st series (London: John Camden Hotten, 1865), pp. 265-72. Slightly abridged.","Long, long ago a farmer named Lenine lived in Boscean. He had but one son, Frank Lenine, who was indulged into waywardness by both his parents. In addition to the farm servants, there was one, a young girl, Nancy Trenoweth, who especially assisted Mrs. Lenine in all the various duties of a small farmhouse. Nancy Trenoweth was very pretty, and although perfectly uneducated, in the sense in which we now employ the term education, she possessed many native graces, and she had acquired much knowledge, really useful to one whose aspirations would probably never rise higher than to be mistress of a farm of a few acres. Frank Lenine and Nancy were thrown as much together as if they had been brother and sister. Although it was evident to all the parish that Frank and Nancy were seriously devoted to each other, the young man's parents were blind to it, and were taken by surprise when one day Frank asked his father and mother to consent to his marrying Nancy. The old man felt it would be a degradation for a Lenine to marry a Trenoweth, and, in the most unreasoning manner, he resolved it should never be. The first act was to send Nancy home to Alsia Mill, where her parents resided; the next was an imperious command to his son never again to see the girl. The commands of the old are generally powerless upon the young where the affairs of the heart are concerned. So were they upon Frank. He, who was rarely seen of an evening beyond the garden of his father's cottage, was now as constantly absent from his home. Rarely an evening passed that did not find Nancy and Frank together in some retired nook. The Holy Well was a favorite meeting place, and here the most solemn vows were made. Locks of hair were exchanged; a wedding ring, taken from the finger of a corpse, was broken, when they vowed that they would be united either dead or alive; and they even climbed at night the granite pile at Treryn, and swore by the Logan Rock the same strong vow. Time passed onward thus unhappily, and, as the result of the endeavors to quench out the passion by force, it grew stronger under the repressing power, and, like imprisoned steam, eventually burst through all restraint. Nancy's parents discovered at length that moonlight meetings between two untrained, impulsive youths, had a natural result, and they were now doubly earnest in their endeavors to compel Frank to marry their daughter. The elder Lenine could not be brought to consent to this, and he firmly resolved to remove his son entirely from what he considered the hateful influences of the Trenoweths. He resolved to send him away to sea, hoping thus to wean him from this love madness. Frank, poor fellow, with the best intentions, was not capable of any sustained effort, and consequently he at length succumbed to his father; and, to escape his persecution, he entered a ship bound for India, and bade adieu to his native land. Frank could not write, and this happened in days when letters could be forwarded only with extreme difficulty, consequently Nancy never heard from her lover. A baby had been born into a troublesome world, and the infant became a real solace to the young mother. Young Nancy lived for her child, and on the memory of its father. She felt that no distance could separate their souls, that no time could be long enough to destroy the bond between them. The winter was coming on, and nearly three years had passed away since Frank Lenine left his country. It was Allhallows Eve, and two of Nancy's companions persuaded her--no very difficult task--to go with them and sow hemp seed. At midnight the three maidens stole out unperceived into Kimyall town place to perform their incantation. Nancy was the first to sow, the others being less bold than she. Boldly she advanced, saying, as she scattered the seed: Hemp seed I sow thee, Hemp seed grow thee; And he who will my true love be, Come after me And shaw thee. This was repeated three times, when looking back over her left shoulder, she saw Lenine; but he looked so angry that she shrieked with fear, and broke the spell. One of the other girls, however, resolved now to make trial of the spell, and the result of her labors was the vision of a white coffin. Fear now fell on all, and they went home sorrowful, to spend each one a sleepless night. November came with its storms, and during one terrific night a large vessel was thrown upon the rocks in Bernowhall Cliff, and, beaten by the impetuous waves, she was soon in pieces. Amongst the bodies of the crew washed ashore, nearly all of whom had perished, was Frank Lenine. He was not dead when found, but the only words he lived to speak were begging the people to send for Nancy Trenoweth, that he might make her his wife before he died. Rapidly sinking, Frank was borne by his friends on a litter to Boscean, but he died as he reached the town place. His parents, overwhelmed in their own sorrows, thought nothing of Nancy, and without her knowing that Lenine had returned, the poor fellow was laid in his last bed, in Burian Churchyard. On the night of the funeral, Nancy went, as was her custom, to lock the door of the house, and as was her custom too, she looked out into the night. At this instant a horseman rode up in hot haste, called her by name, and hailed her in a voice that made her blood boil. The voice was the voice of Lenine. She could never forget that; and the horse she now saw was her sweetheart's favorite colt, on which he had often ridden at night to Alsia. The rider was imperfectly seen; but he looked very sorrowful, and deadly pale, still Nancy knew him to be Frank Lenine. He told her that he had just arrived home, and that the first moment he was at liberty he had taken horse to fetch his loved one, and to make her his bride. Nancy's excitement was so great, that she was easily persuaded to spring on the horse behind him, that they might reach his home before the morning. When she took Lenine's hand a cold shiver passed through her, and as she grasped his waist to secure herself in her seat, her arm became as stiff as ice. She lost all power of speech, and suffered deep fear, yet she know not why. The moon had arisen, and now burst out in a full flood of light, through the heavy clouds which had obscured it. The horse pursued its journey with great rapidity, and whenever in weariness it slackened its speed, the peculiar voice of the rider aroused its drooping energies. Beyond this no word was spoken since Nancy had mounted behind her lover. They now came to Trove Bottom, where there was no bridge at that time; they dashed into the river. The moon shone full in their faces. Nancy looked into the stream, and saw that the rider was in a shroud and other grave clothes. She now knew that she was being carried away by a spirit, yet she had no power to save herself; indeed, the inclination to do so did not exist. On went the horse at a furious pace, until they came to the blacksmith's shop near Burian Church-town, when she knew by the light from the forge fire thrown across the road that the smith was still at his labors. She now recovered speech. 'Save me! Save me! Save me!' she cried with all her might. The smith sprang from the door of the smithy, with a red-hot iron in his hand, and as the horse rushed by, caught the woman's dress and pulled her to the ground. The spirit, however, also seized Nancy's dress in one hand, and his grasp was like that of a vice. The horse passed like the wind, and Nancy and the smith were pulled down as far as the old Almshouses, near the churchyard. Here the horse for a moment stopped. The smith seized that moment, and with his hot iron burned off the dress from the rider's hand, thus saving Nancy, more dead than alive; while the rider passed over the wall of the churchyard, and vanished on the grave in which Lenine had been laid but a few hours before. The smith took Nancy into his shop, and he soon aroused some of his neighbors, who took the poor girl back to Alsia. Her parents laid her on her bed. She spoke no word, but to ask for her child, to request her mother to give up her child to Lenine's parents, and her desire to be buried in his grave. Before the morning light fell on the world, Nancy had breathed her last breath. A horse was seen that night to pass through the Church-town like a ball from a musket, and in the morning Lenine's colt was found dead in Bernowhall Cliff, covered with foam, its eyes forced from its head, and its swollen tongue hanging out of its mouth. On Lenine's grave was found the piece of Nancy's dress which was left in the spirit's hand when the smith burnt her from his grasp. It is said that one or two of the sailors who survived the wreck related after the funeral, how, on the 30th of October, at night, Lenine was like one mad; they could scarcely keep him in the ship. He seemed more asleep than awake, and, after great excitement, he fell as if dead upon the deck, and lay so for hours. When he came to himself, he told them that he had been taken to the village of Kimyall, and that if he ever married the woman who had cast the spell, he would make her suffer the longest day she had to live for drawing his soul out of his body. Poor Nancy was buried in Lenine's grave, and her companion in sowing hemp seed, who saw the white coffin, slept beside her within the year. The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall, 1st series (London: John Camden Hotten, 1865), pp. 265-72. Slightly abridged.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
173,The Duration of Life,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"The Grimms' source: Carl Friedrich Münscher (1808-1873), who learned the tale from an unnamed peasant from Zwehrn. The Grimms first published this tale in the fourth edition (1840) of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen. Link to a file containing only this tale: The Duration of Life by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.","Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die Lebenszeit,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, 7th edition, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 176, pp. 354-55. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die Lebenszeit,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, 7th edition, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 176, pp. 354-55.","When God created the world and was about to determine the duration of life for all the creatures, the donkey came and asked, 'Lord, how long am I to live?' 'Thirty years,' answered God. 'Is that all right with you?' 'Oh, Lord,' replied the donkey, 'that is a long time. Think of my tiresome existence carrying heavy loads from morning until night, dragging bags of grain to the mill so that others might eat bread, only to be cheered along and refreshed with kicks and blows! Spare me part of this long time.' So God had mercy and gave him eighteen years. The donkey went away satisfied, and the dog made his appearance. 'How long do you want to live?' said God to him. 'Thirty years was too much for the donkey, but you will be satisfied with that long.' 'Lord,' answered the dog. 'Is that your will? Just think how much I have to run. My feet will not hold out so long. And what can I do but growl and run from one corner to another after I have lost my voice for barking and my teeth for biting?' God saw that he was right, and he took away twelve years. Then came the monkey. 'Surely you would like to live thirty years,' said the Lord to him. 'You do not need to work like the donkey and the dog, and are always having fun.' 'Oh, Lord,' he answered, 'so it appears, but it is different. When it rains porridge, I don't have a spoon. I am always supposed to be playing funny tricks and making faces so people will laugh, but when they give me an apple and I bite into it, it is always sour. How often is sorrow hidden behind a joke. I cannot put up with all that for thirty years!' God had mercy and gave him ten years. Finally man made his appearance. Cheerful, healthy, and refreshed, he asked God to determine the duration of his life. 'You shall live thirty years,' spoke the Lord. 'Is that enough for you?' 'What a short time!' cried the man. 'When I have built a house and a fire is burning on my own hearth, when I have planted trees that blossom and bear fruit, and am just beginning to enjoy life, then I am to die. Oh, Lord, extend my time.' 'I will add the donkey's eighteen years,' said God. 'That is not enough,' replied the man. 'You shall also have the dog's twelve years.' 'Still too little.' 'Well, then,' said God, 'I will give you the monkey's ten years as well, but you shall receive no more.' The man went away, but he was not satisfied. Thus man lives seventy years. The first thirty are his human years, and they quickly disappear. Here he is healthy and happy; he works with pleasure, and enjoys his existence. The donkey's eighteen years follow. Here one burden after the other is laid on him; he carries the grain that feeds others, and his faithful service is rewarded with kicks and blows. Then come the dog's twelve years, and he lies in the corner growling, no longer having teeth with which to bite. And when this time is past, the monkey's ten years conclude. Now man is weak headed and foolish; he does silly things and becomes a laughingstock for children. learned the tale from an unnamed peasant from Zwehrn. their Kinder- und Hausmärchen. Duration of Life by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
173,"The Man, the Horse, the Ox, and the Dog",Aesop,"Other sources for this fable: C. Halm, ed., Fabulae Aesopicae Collectae (Leipzig: Teubner, 1852), no. 173. Ben Edwin Perry, Babrius and Phaedrus (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1984), pp. 90-93 (Babrius, no. 74). Perry titles this fable 'Man's Years.' Lloyd W. Daly, Aesop without Morals (New York and London: Thomas Yoseloff, 1961), no. 105, pp. 138-139. Daly titles this fable 'Man's Years.' C. Halm, ed., Fabulae Aesopicae Collectae (Leipzig: Teubner, 1852), no. 173. Ben Edwin Perry, Babrius and Phaedrus (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1984), pp. 90-93 (Babrius, no. 74). Perry titles this fable 'Man's Years.' Lloyd W. Daly, Aesop without Morals (New York and London: Thomas Yoseloff, 1961), no. 105, pp. 138-139. Daly titles this fable 'Man's Years.'","Source (Internet Archive): Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann, 1916), pp. 188-89.","One winter's day, during a severe storm, a horse, an ox, and a dog came and begged for shelter in the house of a man. He readily admitted them, and, as they were cold and wet, he lit a fire for their comfort; and he put oats before the horse, and hay before the ox, while he fed the dog with the remains of his own dinner. When the storm abated, and they were about to depart, they determined to show their gratitude in the following way. They divided the life of man among them, and each endowed one part of it with the qualities which were peculiarly his own. The horse took youth, and hence young men are high mettled and impatient of restraint; the ox took middle age, and accordingly men in middle life are steady and hard working; while the dog took old age, which is the reason why old men are so often peevish and ill tempered, and, like dogs, attached chiefly to those who look to their comfort, while they are disposed to snap at those who are unfamiliar or distasteful to them. Other sources for this fable: Ben Edwin Perry, Babrius and Phaedrus (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1984), pp. 90-93 (Babrius, no. 74). Perry titles this fable 'Man's Years.' Thomas Yoseloff, 1961), no. 105, pp. 138-139. Daly titles this fable 'Man's Years.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
173,The Riddle of the Sphinx,Greece,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Thomas Bulfinch, The Age of Fable; Or, Stories of Gods and Heroes, 2nd edition (Boston: Sanborn, Carter, and Bazin, 1856), p. 172. Source (Internet Archive): Thomas Bulfinch, The Age of Fable; Or, Stories of Gods and Heroes, (Boston: Sanborn, Carter, and Bazin, 1855), p. 172.","The city of Thebes was afflicted with a monster which infested the high-road. It was called the Sphinx. It had the body of a lion, and the upper part of a woman. It lay crouched on the top of a rock, and arrested all travellers who came that way, proposing to them a riddle, with the condition that those who could solve it should pass safe, but those who failed should be killed. Not one had yet succeeded in solving it, and all had been slain. Oedipus was not daunted by these alarming accounts, but boldly advanced to the trial. The Sphinx asked him, 'What animal is that which in the morning goes on four feet, at noon on two, and in the evening upon three?' Oedipus replied, 'Man, who in childhood creeps on hands and knees, in manhood walks erect, and in old age with the aid of a staff.' The Sphinx was so mortified at the solving of her riddle that she cast herself down from the rock and perished.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
173,The Seven Ages of Man,William Shakespeare,As You Like It was written about 1599.,"As You Like It, act 2, scene 7, lines 146-73. This passage is spoken by Jaques.","All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. by Jaques.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
173,The Seven Stages of Human Life,Talmud,"Clouston's source is the Talmudic writer Rabbi Simon, the son of Eliezer. Clouston's explanation for the reference to the sevenfold use of the word vanity in a single verse of Ecclesiastes: 'The word vanity (remarks Hurwitz, the translator) occurs twice in the plural, which the Rabbi considered as equivalent to four, and three times in the singular, making altogether seven.'","Source (books.google.com): W. A. Clouston, Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 257-58. Source (Internet Archive): W. A. Clouston, Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers (London: David Nutt, 1890), pp. 257-58.","Seven times in one verse did the author of Ecclesiastes make use of the word vanity, in allusion to the seven stages of human life. The first commences in the first year of human existence, when the infant lies like a king on a soft couch, with numerous attendants about him, all ready to serve him, and eager to testify their love and attachment by kisses and embraces. The second commences about the age of two or three years, when the darling child is permitted to crawl on the ground, and, like an unclean animal, delights in dirt and filth. Then at the age of ten, the thoughtless boy, without reflecting on the past or caring for the future, jumps and skips about like a young kid on the enameled green, contented to enjoy the present moment. The fourth stage begins about the age of twenty, when the young man, full of vanity and pride, begins to set off his person by dress; and, like a young unbroken horse, prances and gallops about in search of a wife. Then comes the matrimonial state, when the poor man, like a patient ass, is obliged, however reluctantly, to toil and labor for a living. Behold him now in the parental state, when surrounded by helpless children craving his support and looking to him for bread. He is as bold, as vigilant, and as fawning, too, as the faithful dog; guarding his little flock, and snatching at everything that comes in his way, in order to provide for his offspring. At last comes the final stage, when the decrepit old man, like the unwieldy though most sagacious elephant, becomes grave, sedate, and distrustful. He then begins to hang down his head towards the ground, as if surveying the place where all his vast schemes must terminate, and where ambition and vanity are finally humbled to the dust. Eliezer. Clouston's explanation for the reference to the sevenfold use of the word vanity in a single verse of Ecclesiastes: 'The word vanity (remarks Hurwitz, the translator) occurs twice in the plural, which the Rabbi considered as equivalent to four, and three times in the singular, making altogether seven.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
173,The Story of Man and His Years,Romania,Gaster's source: 'some old Rumanian manuscripts.',"Source (Internet Archive): M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 116, pp. 336-38.","When God had created the world, he called all his creatures together to grant them their span of life, and to tell them how long they would live and what manner of life they would lead. The first to appear before God was man. And God said to him, 'You, man, shall be king of the world, walking erect upon your feet and looking up to heaven. I give you a noble countenance. The power of thought and judgment shall be yours, and the capacity of disclosing your innermost thoughts by means of speech. All that lives and moves and goes about the earth shall be under your rule, the winged birds and the creeping things shall obey you. Yours shall be all the fruits of the tree and land, and your life shall be thirty years.' Then man turned away dissatisfied and grumbling. 'What is the good of living in pleasure and in might, if all the years of my life are to be thirty only?' So did man speak and grumble, especially when he heard of the years granted to other animals. The turn came to the donkey. He stepped forward to hear what God had decreed for him. The Creator said, 'You shall work hard; you shall carry heavy burdens and be constantly beaten. You shall always be scolded and have very little rest. Your food shall be a poor one of thistles and thorns, and your life shall be fifty years.' When the donkey heard what God had decreed for him he fell upon his knees and cried, 'All merciful Creator, am I indeed to lead such a miserable life, and am I to have such poor food as thistles and thorns. Am I to work so hard and carry such heavy burdens and then live on for fifty years in such misery? Have pity on me and take off twenty years.' Then man, greedy of long life, stepped forward and begged for himself these twenty years which the donkey had rejected. And the Lord granted them to him. Then came the dog. To him the Creator said, 'You shall guard the house and the property of your master. You shall cling to them as if you were afraid of losing them. You shall bark even at the shadow of the moon, and for all your trouble you shall gnaw bones and eat raw meat, and your life shall be forty years.' 'All merciful Creator,' cried the dog, 'if my life is to be of worry and trouble, and if I am to live on bones and raw stuff, take off, I pray, twenty years.' Again man, greedy of life, stepped forward and begged the Creator to give him the twenty years rejected by the dog. And the Creator again granted his request. Now it was the turn of the monkey. The creator said, 'You shall only have the likeness of man, but not be man. You shall be stupid and childish. Your back shall be bent. You shall be an object of mockery to the children and a laughingstock of fools, and your life shall be sixty years.' When the monkey heard what was decreed for him, he fell upon his knees and said, 'All merciful God, in your wisdom you have decided that I should be a man and not a man, that my back shall be bent, that I shall be a laughing stock for young and fools and I shall be stupid. Take, in mercy, thirty years off my life.' And God, the all merciful, granted his request. And again, man, whose greed can never be satisfied, stepped forward and asked also for these thirty years which the monkey had rejected. And again God gave them to him. Then God dismissed all the animals and all his creatures, and each one went to his appointed station and to the life that has been granted to And as man had asked, so has it come to pass. Man lives as a king and ruler over all creatures for the thirty years which the Lord had given to him, in joy and in happiness, without care and without trouble. Then come the years from thirty to fifty, which are the years of the donkey; they are full of hard work, heavy burdens, and little food, for man is anxious to gather and to lay up something for the years to come. It could not be otherwise, for were not these the years which he had taken over from the donkey? Then come the years from fifty to seventy, when man sits at home and guards with great trembling and fear the little that he possesses, fearful of every shadow, eating little, always keeping others away lest they rob him of that which he has gathered, and barking at everyone whom he suspects of wanting to take away what belongs to him. And no wonder that he behaves like that, for these are the dog's years, which man had asked for himself. And if a man lives beyond seventy, then his back gets bent, his face changes, his mind gets clouded, he becomes childish, a laughingstock for children, an amusement for the fool, and these are the years which man had taken over from the monkey.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
173,There Is No Difference between Youth and Old Age,Nasreddin Hodja,Link to additional tales about Nasreddin Hodja.,"Source (books.google.com): Albert Wesselski, Der Hodscha Nasreddin, vol. 1 (Weimar: Alexander Duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 240, p. 144. Source (Internet Archive): Albert Wesselski, Der Hodscha Nasreddin, vol. 1 (Weimar: Alexander Duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 240, p. 144.","One day the Hodja said, 'There is no difference between youth and old age.' Someone asked him, 'How so?' He answered, 'In front of our door there is a stone so heavy that only a few people are able to lift it. In my youth I attempted to do so, but was unable to. Later, now that I am an old man, I remembered this, and attempted once again, but was still unable to lift it. This experience is why I say that there is no difference between youth and old age.' Folklore. An essay by D. L. Ashliman, with supporting texts from proverbs, folktales, and myths from around the world.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1548,Boil Stones in Butter,English Proverb,NA,"Wolfgang Mieder, The Prentice-Hall Encyclopedia of World Proverbs (New York: MJF Books, 1986), p. 457, no. 15,151.","Boil stones in butter, and you may sip the broth. Proverbs (New York: MJF Books, 1986), p. 457, no. 15,151.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1548,Limestone Broth,Ireland,"MacDonagh does not give this episode a title. Link to another version of this tale, also from Ireland: Gerald Griffin, The Collegians; or, The Colleen Bawn, a Tale of Garryowen (New York: The Century Company, 1906), pp. 247-48.","Machael MacDonagh, Irish Life and Character (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1898), pp. 322-23.","He then took from his wallet two substantial pieces of freshly cut limestone, which he placed in the pot, and, covering them with water, put the pot upon the fire to boil. The vanithee, looking on with interest, exclaimed, 'What are yez goin' to make, me good man?' 'Limestone broth, ma'am,' replied the beggar. 'Glory be to God, look at that now!' exclaimed the amazed housewife. When the boiling had proceeded for some time the beggar-man tasted the contents, and remarked 'it would be grately improved by a pinch o' salt.' The 'pinch o' salt ' was given him, and by-and-by he suggested that all the 'broth' wanted was just a couple of spoonfuls of 'male' to thicken it. Next came a request for a few slices of turnips, potatoes, and onions, to give it a little substance, all of which the good woman, who continued watching the proceedings with the keenest interest, kindly supplied; nor did she refuse 'a knuckle of bacon,' just to give the broth 'the laste taste in the world of the flavour of mate.' And when, at the conclusion of the operation, she was invited to try the 'limestone broth,' she pronounced it 'quite as good as any mate broth she ever tasted in her life.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1548,Stone Soup (Hunter),United States of America,Hunter does not give this episode a title.,"Alexander Hunter, Johnny Reb and Billy Yank (New York and Washington: The Neale Publishing Company, 1905), pp. 284-86.","The best foragers of the brigade met their match in the old woman, and returned defeated from the field; at last she was left in undisturbed possession of the place, and no hungry soldiers were ever fed at her table. But one day a famished-looking, lank, angular specimen of the genus Reb appeared at her farmhouse and knocked at her door. When the animated figure of War and Famine combined stalked into her yard, the old lady was speechless with wrath; she opened the door, prepared for immediate hostilities, but the sad-faced defender of the soil was asking in a humble voice and with a deprecatory manner, 'Please, marm, lend me your iron pot.' 'Man, I have no iron pot for you!' This was snappily jerked out, while an evident determination was shown to shut the door in his face. 'Please, marm, I won't hurt it.' 'You do not suppose,' she began in angry tones, 'you do not for one moment suppose I am going to lend you my pot to carry to camp, do you? If I were fool enough, I would never see it again, so don't think that you are going to get it. Go over there to Mrs. Hanger's, she will lend you hers; one thing is certain, I won't!' 'Marm,' he still pleaded, 'I will bring your pot back, hope I may die if I don't! If you don't believe me I won't take it out of the yard but will kindle a fire just here; please, marm.' 'What do you want with it?' asked the old woman, who was beginning to feel that she would be none the worse in pocket by granting the request, but might, on the contrary, be gainer in some way. 'I want to bile some stone soup,' answered the soldier, looking pitifully at his questioner. 'Stone soup! What's stone soup?' and the old lady's curiosity began to rise. 'How do you make it, and what for?' 'Marm,' replied the mournful infantryman, 'ever since the war began the rations have become scarcer and scarcer, until now they have stopped entirely and we-uns have to live on stone soup to keep from starving.' 'Stone soup,' mused the woman, 'I never heard of it before, must be something new; one of these newfangled things; cheap, too; well, how do you say you make it ?' 'Please, marm, you get a pot with some water and I will show you; we biles the stone.' The ancient dame trotted off full of wonder and inquisitiveness to get the article. Yes, it was worth knowing the recipe; fully worth the use of the pot, besides she would make her dinner off that soup and save that much! So, very much mollified, she returned and found the soldier had already kindled his fire; placing the kettle over it he waited for the water to boil, in the meanwhile selecting a rock about the size of his head, which he washed clean and put in the pot; then he said to the old woman, who had been peering into the pot through her spectacles, 'Marm, please give me a leetle piece of bacon about the size of your hand to give the soup a relish.' The old lady trotted off and got it for him; another five minutes passed. 'Is it done?' she inquired. 'It's mos' done, but please, marm, give me half a head o' cabbage just to make it taste right.' Without a word the cabbage was brought; and ten minutes slipped away. 'Is it not done by this time?' again she asked. 'Mos' done,' with a brightening look, and then as if a new idea had just occurred to him, 'Please, marm, can't you give me a half a dozen potatoes just to give it a nice flavor like.' 'All right,' answered the widow, who by this time had become deeply absorbed in the operation. The potatoes followed the meat and cabbage, and another ten minutes followed that. 'Isn't it done yet? 'Pears to me that it's a long time cooking,' she said, getting somewhat impatient. 'Mos' done, marm, mos' done,' insinuatingly. 'Jest get me a small handful of flour, a little pepper and some termartusses and it will be all right then.' The things were duly added from the widow's stores and bubbled in the pot a while; then the soup was pronounced done and lifted from the fire. The soldier pulled out his knife with spoon attachment and commenced to eat; he lost no time between mouthfuls; the economical widow hastened in, and returned with a plate, which she filled; on tasting the first spoonful she exclaimed, 'Why, man, this is nothing but common meat and vegetable soup!' 'So it is, marm,' responded the soldier after a while, for there was not a minute to spare for talking; 'so it is, marm, but we call it stone soup.' The old lady carried the pot back into the house, but not before the man had emptied it, learning for the first time how a soldier's ingenuity could compass anything and outwit even herself. She said, 'They have Old Nick on their side,' and tradition adds, she even kept that stone and swore by it. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1548,Stone Soup (Stonesoup),Europe,NA,NA,"A tramp knocked at the farmhouse door. 'I can't let you in, for my husband is not at home,' said the woman of the house. 'And I haven't a thing to offer you,' she added. Her voice showed unmasked scorn for the man she held to be a beggar. 'Then you could make use of my soup stone,' he replied, pulling from his pocket what appeared to be an ordinary stone. 'Soup stone?' said she, suddenly showing interest in the tattered stranger. 'Oh yes,' he said. 'If I just had a potful of water and a fire, I'd show you how it works. This stone and boiling water make the best soup you've ever eaten. Your husband would thank you for the good supper, if you'd just let me in and put my stone to use over your fire.' The woman's suspicions yielded to her desire for an easy meal, and she opened the door. A pot of water was soon brought to a boil. The tramp dropped in his stone, then tasted the watery gruel. 'It needs salt, and a bit of barley,' he said. 'And some butter, too, if you can spare it.' The woman obliged him by adding the requested ingredients. He tasted it again. 'Much better!' he said. 'But a good soup needs vegetables and potatoes. Are there none in your cellar?' 'Oh yes,' she said, her enthusiasm for the miracle soup growing, and she quickly found a generous portion of potatoes, turnips, carrots, and beans. After the mixture had boiled awhile, the man tasted it again. 'It's almost soup,' he said. 'The stone has not failed us. But some chicken broth and chunks of meat would do it well.' The woman, recognizing the truth of his claim, ran to the chicken yard, returning soon with a freshly slaughtered fowl. 'Soup stone, do your thing!' she said, adding the chicken to the stew. When their noses told them that the soup was done, the woman dished up a healthy portion for her guest and for herself. They ate their fill, and -- thanks to the magic stone -- there was still a modest bowlful left over for her husband's supper. 'My thanks for the use of your pot and your fire,' said the tramp as evening approached, and he sensed that the husband soon would be arriving home. He fished his stone from the bottom of the pot, licked it clean, and put it back into his pocket. 'Do come again,' said the thankful woman. 'I will indeed,' said the tramp, and disappeared into the woods.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1548,The Clever Pilgrim,Switzerland/Germany,"Hebel's tale first appeared in the almanac Der Rheinländische Hausfreund; oder, Neuer Calender auf das Jahr 1808. Hebel's source: 'Die Jesuiten in Wien,' Schweizerbote, v. 1, no. 38 (September 21, 1804), pp. 302 ff.","Johann Peter Hebel, 'Der schlaue Pilgrim,' Sämmtliche Werke, neue Ausgabe, vol. 3 (Karlsruhe: Verlag der Chr. Fr. Müller'schen Hofbuchhandlung, 1838), pp. 22-24.","A number of years ago a tramp was making his way through the country. He claimed to be a pious pilgrim on his way from Paderborn to the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. In Müllheim he asked at the Post Tavern, 'How far is it to Jerusalem?' He was told, 'Seven hundred hours, but if you go by way of Mauchen, taking the footpath, then you will save a quarter of an hour.' So in order to save the quarter of an hour he went by way of Mauchen. And that was not a bad thing. If you don't take advantage of little benefits you will never get any large ones. We more often have the opportunity to save or to earn a Batzen [a small German coin] than a florin, but fifteen Batzen make one florin. And if someone on a journey of seven hundred hours could save a quarter of an hour every five hours, how much would he save during the whole trip? Who wants to figure it out? In any event, none of this was very interesting to our disguised pilgrim. He was pursuing only leisure and good food, so he really did not care at all where he was. As the old proverb says, a beggar can never take a wrong turn. It would be a bad village indeed if he couldn't recover more there than what he used up on his soles getting there, even if were going barefoot. But still, our pilgrim did want to get back on the high road as soon as possible, where there were wealthy houses and good cooking. This rascal, unlike a genuine pilgrim, was not interested in common nourishment extended to him by a pious and sympathetic hand, but wanted to eat nothing but nourishing pebble soup. Whenever he came to a good tavern by the side of the road, for example the Posthaus in Krozingen, or the Baselstab in Schliengen, he would go inside and ask -- hungrily, humbly, and in God's name -- for some water soup with pebbles, adding that he had no money. When the sympathetic waitress said to him, 'Pious pilgrim, the pebbles are going to lie hard in your belly,' he said, 'Right! That's why I choose them. Pebbles last longer than bread, and it is a long way to Jerusalem. But if you could give me a little glass of wine with them, in God's name, then of course I could digest them more easily.' Then when the waitress said, 'But, pious pilgrim, such a soup can surely give you no strength,' he answered, 'Indeed, if you would use meat broth instead of water it would of course be more nourishing.' When the waitress brought him such a soup, saying, 'The sops haven't softened up yet,' he said, 'You are right, and the soup does seem to be quite thin. Wouldn't you have a few forkfuls of vegetables, or a little piece of meat, or both?' Then when the sympathetic waitress put some vegetables and meat into the dish, he said, 'God bless you. Now just give me some bread, and I'll eat the soup.' With that he pulled back the sleeves of his pilgrim's robe and attacked the work with pleasure. And when he had consumed the last crumb, strand, and drop, of the bread, wine, meat, vegetables, and meat broth, he said, 'Waitress, your soup has filled me up so much that I can't eat the wonderful pebbles. That is too bad, but do save them. When I return I shall bring you a holy mussel from Askalon or a rose from Jericho.' Werke, neue Ausgabe, vol. 3 (Karlsruhe: Verlag der Chr. Fr. Müller'schen Hofbuchhandlung, 1838), pp. 22-24. Hausfreund; oder, Neuer Calender auf das Jahr 1808. 1, no. 38 (September 21, 1804), pp. 302 ff.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1548,The Old Woman and the Tramp,Sweden,NA,"Gabriel Djurklou, Fairy Tales from the Swedish, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: William Heinemann, 1901), pp. 33-41.","There was once a tramp, who went plodding his way through a forest. The distance between the houses was so great that he had little hope of finding a shelter before the night set in. But all of a sudden he saw some lights between the trees. He then discovered a cottage, where there was a fire burning on the hearth. 'How nice it would be to roast one's self before that fire, and to get a bite of something,' he thought; and so he dragged himself towards the cottage. Just then an old woman came towards him. 'Good evening, and well met!' said the tramp. 'Good evening,' said the woman. 'Where do you come from?' 'South of the sun, and east of the moon,' said the tramp, 'and now I am on the way home again, for I have been all over the world with the exception of this parish,' he said. 'You must be a great traveler, then,' said the woman. 'What may be your business here?' 'Oh, I want a shelter for the night,' he said. 'I thought as much,' said the woman; 'but you may as well get away from here at once, for my husband is not at home, and my place is not an inn,' she said. 'My good woman,' said the tramp, 'you must not be so cross and hardhearted, for we are both human beings, and should help one another, it is written.' 'Help one another?' said the woman. 'Help? Did you ever hear such a thing? Who'll help me, do you think? I haven't got a morsel in the house! No, you'll have to look for quarters elsewhere,' she said. But the tramp was like the rest of his kind. He did not consider himself beaten at the first rebuff. Although the old woman grumbled and complained as much as she could, he was just as persistent as ever, and went on begging and praying like a starved dog, until at last she gave in, and he got permission to lie on the floor for the night. That was very kind, he thought, and he thanked her for it. 'Better on the floor without sleep, than suffer cold in the forest deep,' he said, for he was a merry fellow, this tramp, and was always ready with a rhyme. When he came into the room he could see that the woman was not so badly off as she had pretended. But she was a greedy and stingy woman of the worst sort, and was always complaining and grumbling. He now made himself very agreeable, of course, and asked her in his most insinuating manner for something to eat. 'Where am I to get it from?' said the woman. 'I haven't tasted a morsel myself the whole day.' But the tramp was a cunning fellow, he was. 'Poor old granny, you must be starving,' he said, 'Well, well, I suppose I shall have to ask you to have something with me, then.' 'Have something with you!' said the woman. 'You don't look as if you could ask anyone to have anything! What have you got to offer one, I should like to know?' 'He who far and wide does roam sees many things not known at home; and he who many things has seen has wits about him and senses keen,' said the tramp. 'Better dead than lose one's head! Lend me a pot, granny!' The old woman now became very inquisitive, as you may guess, and so she let him have a pot. He filled it with water and put it on the fire, and then he blew with all his might till the fire was burning fiercely all round it Then he took a four-inch nail from his pocket, turned it three times in his hand and put it into the pot. The woman stared with all her might. 'What's this going to be?' she asked. 'Nail broth,' said the tramp. The old woman had seen and heard a good deal in her time, but that anybody could have made broth with a nail, well, she had never heard the like before. 'That's something for poor people to know,' she said, 'and I should like to learn how to make it.' 'That which is not worth having, will always go a-begging,' said the tramp. But if she wanted to learn how to make it she had only to watch him, he said, and went on stirring the broth. The old woman squatted on the ground, her hands clasping her knees, and her eyes following his hand as he stirred the broth. 'This generally makes good broth,' he said, 'but this time it will very likely be rather thin, for I have been making broth the whole week with the same nail. If one only had a handful of sifted oatmeal to put in, that would make it all right,' he said. 'But what one has to go without, it's no use thinking more about,' and so he stirred the broth again. 'Well, I think I have a scrap of flour somewhere,' said the old woman, and went out to fetch some, and it was both good and fine. The tramp began putting the flour into the broth, and went on stirring, while the woman sat staring now at him and then at the pot until her eyes nearly burst their sockets. 'This broth would be good enough for company,' he said, putting in one handful of flour after another. 'If I had only a bit of salted beef and a few potatoes to put in, it would be fit for gentlefolks, however particular they might be,' he said. 'But what one has to go without, it's no use thinking more about.' When the old woman really began to think it over, she thought she had some potatoes, and perhaps a bit of beef as well, and these she gave the tramp, who went on stirring, while she sat and stared as hard as ever. 'This will be grand enough for the best in the land,' he said. 'Well, I never!' said the woman, 'and just fancy -- all with a nail!' He was really a wonderful man, that tramp! He could do more than drink a sup and turn the tankard up, he could. 'If one had only a little barley and a drop of milk, we could ask the king himself to have some of it,' he said, 'for this is what he has every blessed evening -- that I know, for I have been in service under the king's cook' he said. 'Dear me! Ask the king to have some! Well, I never!' exclaimed the woman, slapping her knees. She was quite awestruck at the tramp and his grand connections. 'But what one has to go without, it's no use thinking more about.' And then she remembered she had a little barley; and as for milk, well, she wasn't quite out of that, she said, for her best cow had just calved. And then she went to fetch both the one and the other. The tramp went on stirring, and the woman sat staring, one moment at him and the next at the pot. Then all at once the tramp took out the nail. 'Now it's ready, and now we'll have a real good feast,' he said. 'But to this kind of soup the king and the queen always take a dram or two, and one sandwich at least. And then they always have a cloth on the table when they eat,' he said. 'But what one has to go without, it's no use thinking more about.' But by this time the old woman herself had begun to feel quite grand and fine, I can tell you. And if that was all that was wanted to make it just as the king had it, she thought it would be nice to have it just the same way for once, and play at being king and queen with the tramp. She went straight to a cupboard and brought out the brandy bottle, dram glasses, butter and cheese, smoked beef and veal, until at last the table looked as if it were decked out for company. Never in her life had the old woman had such a grand feast, and never had she tasted such broth, and just fancy, made only with a nail! She was in such a good and merry humor at having learnt such an economical way of making broth that she did not know how to make enough of the tramp who had taught her such a useful thing. So they ate and drank, and drank and ate, until they become both tired and sleepy. The tramp was now going to lie down on the floor. But that would never do, thought the old woman. No, that was impossible. 'Such a grand person must have a bed to lie in,' she said. He did not need much pressing. 'It's just like the sweet Christmastime,' he said, 'and a nicer woman I never came across. Ah, well! Happy are they who meet with such good people,' said he, and he lay down on the bed and went asleep. And next morning when he woke, the first thing he got was coffee and a dram. When he was going, the old woman gave him a bright dollar piece. 'And thanks, many thanks, for what you have taught me,' she said. 'Now I shall live in comfort, since I have learnt how to make broth with a nail.' 'Well it isn't very difficult, if one only has something good to add to it,' said the tramp as he went on his way. The woman stood at the door staring after him. 'Such people don't grow on every bush,' she said. translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: William Heinemann, 1901), pp. 33-41.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
295,"Mouse, You Go First!",Switzerland,The chain tale appended to the first episode is classified as an Aarne-Thompson type 2029.,"Otto Sutermeister, 'Müsli gang du zerst!,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz, second edition, (Aarau: Druck und Verlag von H. R. Sauerländer, 1873), no. 5, pp. 11-12. First edition, 1869.","A mouse and a coal once went walking together. They came to a brook and wanted to get across, but there was neither a bridge nor a walkway, but only a piece of straw lying nearby. They would have to walk across the straw, if they wanted to get to the other side. Then the coal said to the mouse, 'You go first! You can jump better than I can.' But the mouse said, 'No, you cross first. You must light the way for me.' In the end, after they had quarreled enough, the coal went on ahead, but when he got to the middle of the brook, the straw caught fire and burned in two. The coal fell into the water and died, just like coals always die when they fall into water. In his fear he cried out. 'Hsssss,' he said. When the mouse saw and heard this, he began to laugh, and he laughed and laughed until he split his fur coat. His joy in someone else's misfortune did not do him any good! 'What can I do now?' he thought. 'I must see how I can mend my coat.' Then the mouse went to the shoemaker and said, 'Give me some thread, so I can mend my coat.' The shoemaker said, 'If you will bring me some bristles, I will give you some thread, so you can mend your coat.' Then the mouse went to the sow and said, 'Give me some bristles, so I can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give me some thread, so I can mend my coat.' The sow said, 'Give me some bran, then I will give you some bristles, so you can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give you some thread, so you can mend your coat.' Then the mouse went to the miller and said, 'Give me some bran, so I can take the bran to the sow, so the sow will give me some bristles, so I can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give me some thread, so I can mend my coat.' The miller said, 'Give me some grain, then I will give you some bran, so you can take the bran to the sow, so the sow will give you some bristles, so you can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give you some thread, so you can mend your coat.' Then the mouse went to the field and said, 'Give me some grain, so I can take the grain to the miller, so the miller will give me some bran, so I can take the bran to the sow, so the sow will give me some bristles, so I can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give me some thread, so I can mend my coat.' The field said, 'Give me some manure, then I will give you some grain, so you can take the grain to the miller, so the miller will give you some bran, so you can take the bran to the sow, so the sow will give you some bristles, so you can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give you some thread, so you can mend your coat.' Then the mouse went to the cow and said, 'Give me some manure, so I can take the manure to the field, so the field will give me some grain, so I can take the grain to the miller, so the miller will give me some bran, so I can take the bran to the sow, so the sow will give me some bristles, so I can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give me some thread, so I can mend my coat.' The cow said, 'Give me some grass, then I will give you some manure, so you can take the manure to the field, so the field will give you some grain, so you can take the grain to the miller, so the miller will give you some bran, so you can take the bran to the sow, so the sow will give you some bristles, so you can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give you some thread, so you can mend your coat.' Then the mouse went to the meadow and said, 'Give me some grass, so I can take the grass to the cow, so the cow will give me some manure, so I can take the manure to the field, so the field will give me some grain, so I can take the grain to the miller, so the miller will give me some bran, so I can take the bran to the sow, so the sow will give me some bristles, so I can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give me some thread, so I can mend my coat.' The meadow said, 'Give me some water, then I will give you some grass, so you can take the grass to the cow, so the cow will give you some manure, so you can take the manure to the field, so the field will give you some grain, so you can take the grain to the miller, so the miller will give you some bran, so you can take the bran to the sow, so the sow will give you some bristles, so you can take the bristles to the shoemaker, so the shoemaker will give you some thread, so you can mend your coat.' Then the mouse went to the brook and diverted it onto the meadow, then the meadow gave him some grass, then he took the grass to the cow, then the cow gave him some manure, then he took the manure to the field, then the field gave him some grain, then he took the grain to the miller, then the miller gave him some bran, then he took the bran to the sow, then the sow gave him some bristles, then he took the bristles to the shoemaker, then the shoemaker gave him some thread, and then the mouse was able to mend his coat.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
295,"Someone's Misfortune, Someone's Ridicule",Poland,NA,"Karl Haupt, 'Jemandes Schaden, Jemandes Spott,' Sagenbuch der Lausitz (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1862), v. 2, no. 309, p. 204.","Three good comrades, a coal, a bladder, and a straw, had set forth together to another land. On their way they came to a horse's hoofprint filled with water, and they did not know how to get across this ocean. Finally they decided that the straw should lay himself across it, and the others would walk across the ocean on him. The coal went first. When he got to the middle of the straw, he stopped to look around, thus burning through the straw, and they both drowned. This seemed very funny to the bladder, and he began to laugh so hard that he burst. A stone that saw everything said, 'Yes, indeed, someone's misfortune, someone's ridicule!' But in the end, those who ridicule also meet with misfortune themselves. der Lausitz (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1862), v. 2, no. 309, p. 204.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
295,"Straw, Coal, and Bean","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 1837","The Grimms' source: Burkard Waldis, Esopus (1548). The version Translator's note: The Grimms use the grammatical genders of the main The version of 1837 replaced a shorter version, included since the","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Strohhalm, Kohle und Bohne, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), 7th ed. (Berlin, 1857), no. 18.","An old woman lived in a village. She had gathered a serving of beans and wanted to cook them, so she prepared a fire in her fireplace. To make it burn faster she lit it with a handful of straw. While she was pouring the beans into the pot, one of them fell unnoticed to the floor, coming to rest next to a piece of straw. Soon afterward a glowing coal jumped out of the fireplace and landed next to them. The straw said, 'Dear friends, where do you come from?' The coal answered, 'I jumped from the fireplace, to my good fortune. If I had not forced my way out, I surely would have died. I would have burned to ash.' The bean said, 'I too saved my skin. If the old woman had gotten me into the pot I would have been cooked to mush without mercy, just like my comrades.' 'Would my fate have been any better?' said the straw. 'The old woman sent all my brothers up in fire and smoke. She grabbed sixty at once and killed them. Fortunately I slipped through her fingers.' 'What should we do now?' asked the coal. 'Because we have so fortunately escaped death,' answered the bean, 'I think that we should join together as comrades. To prevent some new misfortune from befalling us here, let us together make our way to another land.' This proposal pleased the other two, and they set forth all together. They soon came to a small brook, and because there was neither a bridge nor a walkway there, they did not know how they would get across it. Then the straw had a good idea, and said, 'I will lay myself across it, and you can walk across me like on a bridge.' So the straw stretched himself from one bank to the other. The coal, who was a hot-headed fellow, stepped brashly onto the newly constructed bridge, but when he got to the middle and heard the water rushing beneath him, he took fright, stopped, and did not dare to go any further. Then the straw caught fire, broke into two pieces, and fell into the brook. The coal slid after him, hissed as he fell into the water, and gave up the ghost. The bean who had cautiously stayed behind on the bank had to laugh at the event. He could not stop, and he laughed so fiercely that he burst. Now he too would have died, but fortunately a wandering tailor was there, resting near the brook. Having a compassionate heart, he got out a needle and thread and sewed the bean back together. The bean thanked him most kindly. However, because he had used black thread, since that time all beans have had a black seam. Kohle und Bohne, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), 7th ed. (Berlin, 1857), no. 18. translated above was added to the Grimms' collection with the third edition (1837). characters. I have arbitrarily assigned masculine gender to them. first edition (1812) and entitled 'Strohhalm, Kohle und Bohne auf der Reise' (Straw, Coal, and Bean Go Traveling).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
295,"Straw, Coal, and Bean Go Traveling",Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (1812),"The Grimms' source: Dorothea Catharina Wild (1752-1813). With the third edition of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1837), the Grimms replaced the above tale with a somewhat longer version entitled Straw, Coal, and Bean, translated below.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Strohhalm, Kohle und Bohne auf der Reise,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), v. 1, no. 18.","A straw, a coal, and a bean formed a group in order to take a long trip together. They had already gone through many lands when they came to a brook with no bridge, and they could not get across. Finally Straw came upon a good idea. He would lay himself over the water, and the others would walk across him, first Coal and then Bean. Coal walked ahead, and Bean came tripping after. But when Coal reached the middle of the straw, it caught fire and burned through. Coal fell into the water hissing, and died. Straw floated away in two pieces. Bean, who had lagged behind, also slid in, but he managed to keep barely afloat by swimming. However, he swallowed so much water that he burst, and in this condition drifted ashore. Fortunately a tailor was sitting there, resting from his travels. He had needle and thread at hand, and he sewed Bean back together. And from that time forth, all beans have had a seam. According to another story, it was the bean who first walked across the straw. He got across safely, and from the opposite bank watched the coal attempt to cross. Midway the coal burned the straw in two, and fell into the water hissing. When the bean saw this, he laughed so loudly that he burst. The tailor, who was sitting on the bank, sewed him back together, but he had only black thread, and for this reason all beans have a black seam. Reise,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), 1st ed. (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), v. 1, no. 18. With the third edition of their Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1837), the Grimms replaced the above tale with a somewhat longer version entitled Straw, Coal, and Bean, translated below.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1730,The Entrapped Suitors,Europe,Retold from a variety of European sources.,NA,"An honest sculptor and his beautiful wife lived in a renowned city with a great cathedral. His work was always in demand, because there were many convents, monasteries, and churches in the city. The sculptor and his wife would have been ever so happy, but for one problem. Her exquisite beauty caught the eye of many men, some of whom became increasingly bold in their attempts to gain her favor. Three men in particular -- a bishop, a priest, and a sexton -- were so open and so forceful in their solicitations that life became quite unbearable for the sculptor and his faithful wife. The sculptor, you see, feared that if any one of these three influential men would turn against him it could ruin his thriving trade. And his wife, an honorable and pious woman, was quite naturally offended by their overtures. Finally the husband and wife devised a plan that would, they hoped, put an end to the unseemly advances and propositions. The next time that the bishop approached the sculptor's wife, instead of giving her usual cool reply, she responded warmly, 'Yes, it would be good if we could get to know one another better. My husband will be out this afternoon. Why don't you come by at three o'clock for tea?' The bishop, who could scarcely hide his eagerness and joy, accepted the invitation and left. Then came the priest, and he too was delighted when his solicitation received an unexpectedly warm response. He too received an invitation for tea, but he was to come at half past three. The sexton came last, and he too was invited, but for four o'clock. Three o'clock arrived and the bishop, true to his word, was as punctual as a church bell. 'You must be very uncomfortable in that heavy, scratchy robe,' purred the sculptor's wife, as they drank their tea. 'Do make yourself at ease.' He needed no further encouragement, and began to take off his clothes. Just as the last item fell, there came a knock at the door. 'Heaven help us!' cried the woman. 'It's my husband! Quick, hide in the closet.' The bishop, naked as a fish, fled to the closet. The woman regained her composure and went to the door. It was, of course, the priest, as punctual as a church bell. A half hour later he too, having been encouraged by the sculptor's wife, had removed his clothes, just in time to hear a knock at the door. The previous scene repeated itself, and within seconds the naked priest had joined the naked bishop in the closet. The sexton did not fare any better. He too, in grand anticipation, took off his clothes, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. And he joined his two naked brethren in the closet. This time it was indeed the husband returning home, and he had with him three nuns, worthy sisters from a nearby convent who had ordered statues of the three wise men for their sanctuary. 'I have just what you want,' said the sculptor, leading the nuns to the closet holding the three entrapped suitors. 'These will fit perfectly in the sanctuary,' he added, opening the door with a flourish. The three suitors stood breathless, as if made from stone as the nuns came closer to examine the workmanship. First there was only silence, but then the senior sister said, hesitatingly, 'Well, uh, we did have a somewhat different style in mind, perhaps something with a little less detail.' 'No problem!' exclaimed the sculptor. I can remove the excess details at once!' He approached the three suitors, hammer in one hand, chisel in the other. And behold, the three statues suddenly came to life, bolted through the room, and disappeared out the door. The three nuns returned to their convent without any statues. The good sisters there still give witness to the legend of the three stone saints that miraculously came to life. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1730,The Lady and Her Five Suitors,1001 Nights,Revised and abridged by D. L. Ashliman.,"The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated by Richard F. Burton (Privately printed, 1885), v. 6, pp. 172-179.","A beautiful woman, whose husband had traveled abroad, fell in love with a handsome young man, who in turn came into difficulty with the law. Claiming that the young man was her brother, she asked the wali to support his case, and he acceded, but only if she would be his lover. She consented, giving him her address and setting a time for their tryst. She next petitioned a qadi. He too agreed to intercede on her brother's behalf, in return for her love, and she set the same time for his arrival that had been reserved for the wali. Then she went to a vizier, who, like the others, pledged his help, in exchange for her promise of intimacy, and his appointment was set for the same time as his predecessors. Next she took her petition to the king, and he too guaranteed a good outcome for her brother's case, if she would accept him as a lover. The arrangements were quickly made. The woman then went to a carpenter and ordered from him a cabinet with four compartments, one above the other. 'My price is four dinars or your affection' he said. 'Let it be the latter,' she replied. 'But only if you make a cabinet with five compartments, instead of four.' The carpenter consented. The work was soon finished, and she told him when to return for his promised reward. The appointed trysting day came. The qadi was the first to arrive, and she asked him to take off his clothes and put on a brightly colored, strangely cut robe. He had scarcely done so when there was a knock at the door. 'It is my husband!' she cried. 'Hide in the cabinet!' And she locked him in the lowermost compartment. So it went with the wali, the vizier, and the king. The carpenter was the last to arrive. She lured him into the cabinet's top compartment by complaining that, contrary to her instructions, it had been built too narrow to hold a man. 'Not so,' said the carpenter, and climbed inside to prove his claim. The woman locked the door on her final suitor, and then abandoned the place, departing with her young lover for another city. Three days passed, and the carpenter, unable to hold his water any longer, relieved himself on the man beneath him. Each captive did the same, turning the cabinet into a sewer of filth. With time the neighbors entered the woman's lodgings and freed the befouled and strangely costumed suitors. Thus ends the story of the woman who tricked her five suitors. by Richard F. Burton (Privately printed, 1885), v. 6, pp. 172-179.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
800,A Spanish Cavalryman,Switzerland,"Sutermeister's source: Ernst Ludwig Rochholz, 'Es Mærli vom æ Schniderli, wu en spanische Chasseur gspielt het,' Schweizersagen aus dem Aargau (Aarau: Druck und Verlag von H. R. Sauerländer, 1856), vol. 2, pp. 305-306.","Otto Sutermeister, Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz (Aarau: Druck und Verlag von H. R. Sauerländer, 1873), no. 15, pp. 44-45.","On earth people have to die; otherwise there would not be enough room for the young ones. It is no wonder then that once a little tailor got sick and died. So the tailor died, and just like a needle pulling a thread, his soul went straight toward heaven. He found the door and knocked ever so politely. After he had knocked a while the window opened, and Saint Peter asked who was there. The needle-hero said, 'Hey, it is little tailor, who -- with permission -- would like to enter heaven, Mr. Peter.' 'A little tailor?' said the latter. 'An ironing-board finch? We can't use the likes of you in heaven.' And with that Peter shut the window. While the tailor was standing there just outside of heaven, sorrowing and complaining, he saw an old woman who had also been told that they could not use her in heaven. The two comforted one another while seated outside there in the darkness. Meanwhile a mighty hussar approached and called out that he would like admission to heaven. Saint Peter did not make him wait long, because the latter had told someone that he was a Spanish cavalryman. The little tailor took note of this, quickly ran over to the little old woman, and said to her, 'How would it be, my friend, if the two of us were to smuggle ourselves into heaven? Not a bad idea, I believe. Quick now, little woman, I have a clever plan. I will be a Spanish cavalryman, and you will carry me up to heaven's door. I'll take care of the rest. The important thing is that we will both get into heaven!' No sooner said than done. The needle-knight climbed onto the little woman just outside of Saint Peter's gate. 'Who is there?' the person with the keycalled out from inside. 'A Spanish cavalryman!' shouted the little tailor with all his might. The door opened, and our Spanish knight proudly rode in and took his place with the other people in heaven. So that is what the tailor did, And everyone laughed at him, And had a good time all around, And they never had to leave again. fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
800,How a Tailor Came to Heaven and Threw Our Lord God's Footstool at an Old Woman,Germany,"Jörg [also spelled Georg] Wickram was born about 1505 in Colmar, Alsace (now France), and died before 1562 in Burkheim am Rhein, Germany. His Das Rollwagenbüchlein, a collection of jests and anecdotes, was first published in 1555.","Jörg Wickram, Rollwagenbüchlein, edited by Heinrich Kurz (Leipzig: Verlagsbuchhandlung von J. J. Weber, 1865), no. 110, pp. 185-87.","It happened that one beautiful day our Lord God wanted to take a walk, and he took all of his apostles and saints with him, leaving only Saint Peter at home in heaven. Warning Saint Peter not to allow anyone into heaven while he was away, the Lord God left. A tailor approached heaven and knocked at the gate. Saint Peter asked who was there and what he wanted. The tailor said, 'I am a tailor, and I very much wanted to get into heaven.' Saint Peter said, 'I am not allowed to let anyone enter, for our Lord God is not at home, and he told me to be careful to not permit anyone inside while he is away. But the tailor did not cease begging for admission, until finally Saint Peter gave in and allowed him to come in, but with the condition that he was to sit quietly and politely in a corner until our Lord God returned, so that no one would notice him and get angry. The tailor promised to do this. He sat down in a corner behind the door, but as soon as Saint Peter left, he got up and began walking from one corner of heaven to another, looking at everything. Finally he came to some beautiful, expensive chairs surrounding a special chair set with many precious jewels. It stood much higher than the others. In front of it was a golden footstool. This was the chair where our Lord God sits when he is at home. For a good while the tailor stood quietly before the chair, constantly looking at it, for he liked it better than any of the others. Finally he sat down on the chair. Seated there he could look down on the earth and see everything that was happening there. Among other things he saw an old woman who was stealing a hank of yarn from her neighbor. This so angered the tailor that he picked up the golden footstool and threw it at the old woman down on earth. No longer able to reach the footstool, the tailor crept down from the chair and returned to his old corner, remaining there as if he had gone nowhere else. When our Lord God returned home he did not notice the tailor, but when he sat down in his chair he saw that the footstool was missing. He asked Saint Peter where his footstool was, and Saint Peter replied that he did not know. 'Who has been here? Did you allow anyone inside?' he asked further. 'I do not know of anyone who has been here, except for a tailor who is sitting over there behind the door.' Then our Lord God asked the tailor, 'What did you do with my footstool? Have you seen it?' The frightened tailor answered with fear and trembling, 'I was sitting in your chair when I saw an old woman down on earth stealing a hank of yarn from her neighbor. This made me so angry that I threw the footstool at her.' Our Lord God became angry at the tailor, and he said, 'Hey, you rogue, if I had thrown a footstool at you every time that you cut off too much cloth and kept it for yourself, there would not be any chairs or benches left in heaven.' Thus the tailor, his own shortcomings and misdeeds having been revealed, was forced to leave heaven. We should learn from this not to prosecute and punish the small sins of others, while we ourselves are guilty of much larger ones.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
800,The Tailor in Heaven (Grimm),Germany,"The Grimms knew this story from a number of renaissance anecdote collections, including Jörg [Georg] Wickram, Rollwagenbüchlein (ca. 1555); Jakob Frey, Gartengesellschaft (1556); and Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof, Wendunmuth (1563 ff.). This story first appeared in the second edition (1819) of the Grimms' Kinder- und Hausmärchen. The story was slightly modified in the fourth edition (1840).","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Der Schneider im Himmel, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), 7th ed. (Berlin, 1857), no. 35.","'I am a poor, honest tailor who is requesting admission,' replied a pleasant voice. 'Honest indeed,' said Peter. 'Like the thief on the gallows. You have been sticky-fingered and have robbed people of their cloth. You will not get into heaven. The Lord has forbidden me to let anyone in as long he is out.' 'Oh, please be merciful,' cried the tailor. 'Little scraps that fall off the table by themselves are not stolen, and are not worth mentioning. See here, I am limping and have blisters on my feet from walking here. I cannot possibly go back again. Just let me in, and I will do all the dirty work. I will tend the children, wash their diapers, wipe off and clean the benches on which they have been playing, and patch all their torn clothes.' Saint Peter let himself be moved by pity and opened heaven's gate just wide enough for the lame tailor to slip his lean body inside. He had to take a seat in a corner behind the door, and was told to stay there quietly and peacefully, so that the Lord would not notice him when he returned, and become angry. The tailor obeyed, but one time when Saint Peter stepped outside the door, he got up, and full of curiosity, looked into every corner of heaven, seeing what was there. Finally he came to a place where there were many beautiful and costly chairs. At their center was a seat made entirely of gold and set with glistening precious stones. It stood much higher than the other chairs, and a golden footstool stood in front of it. This was the seat on which the Lord sat when he was at home, and from which he could see everything that was happening on earth. The tailor stood still, and looked at the seat for a long time, for he liked it better than all the rest. Finally he could control his curiosity no longer, and he climbed up and sat down on it. From there he saw everything that was happening on earth. He noticed an ugly old woman who was standing beside a stream doing the laundry. She secretly set two scarves aside. Seeing this made the tailor so angry that he took hold of the golden footstool and threw it at the old thief, through heaven down to earth. Unable to bring the stool back again, he quietly sneaked down from the seat, sat back down in his place behind the door, and pretended that he had done nothing at all. When the Lord and Master returned with his heavenly attendants, he did not notice the tailor behind the door, but when he sat down on his seat, the footstool was missing. He asked Saint Peter what had become of the footstool, but he did not know. Then he asked if he had admitted anyone. 'I know of no one who has been here,' answered Peter, 'except for a lame tailor, who is still sitting behind the door.' Then the Lord had the tailor brought before him, and asked him if he had taken the footstool, and where he had put it. 'Oh, Lord,' answered the tailor joyously, 'In my anger I threw it down to earth at an old woman whom I saw stealing two scarves while doing the laundry.' 'Oh, you scoundrel,' said the Lord, 'if I were to judge as you judge, how would it have gone with you? I would have long since had no chairs, benches, seats, no, not even a stove-poker, but would have thrown everything down at the sinners. You can no longer stay in heaven, but must go outside the gate again. From there watch where you are going. Here no one metes out punishment, except for me alone, the Lord.' Peter had to take the tailor out of heaven again, and because his shoes were worn out and his feet were covered with blisters, he took a stick in his hand and went to Wait-a-While, where the good soldiers sit and make merry.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
800,The Tailor in Heaven (Meier),Germany,NA,"Ernst Meier, Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 35, pp. 123-24.","He came to the divine throne, climbed onto it, and sat down. At the side he noticed a window, which he opened and looked down onto earth. From here he could see everything that was happening on earth. There he saw another tailor seated at his window who was just about to steal a small hank of yarn. This angered our tailor so much that he broke off the leg of a chair and threw it at the tailor's head. When God returned and saw the broken chair he asked the tailor what he had done, to which the tailor eagerly described everything he had seen. But then God said, 'If I had acted this way every time that you stole something, throwing a chair leg at your head, there would not be another one here at all.' Then the tailor was forced out of heaven, and -- so they say -- another one has never been admitted. I would like to know if that is true.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
900,Cannetella,"Italy, Giambattista Basile, Il Pentamerone","Lang's source: Hermann Kletke, 'Cannetella,' Märchensaal: Märchen aller Völker für Jung und Alt, vol. 1 (Berlin: Verlag von Carl Reimarus, 1845), no. 12, pp. 48-53. Kletke's source: Giambattista Basile, Lo cunto de li cunti overo lo trattenemiento de peccerille [Il Pentamerone], day 3, tale 1. This work was first published in two volumes in 1634 and 1636. Link to Basile's 'Cannetella' in an English translation by Richard Burton: Il Pentamerone; or, The Tale of Tales, vol. 1 (London: Henry and Company, 1893), pp. 239-48.","Andrew Lang, The Grey Fairy Book, (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1900), pp. 332-43. Lang's source: Hermann Kletke, 'Cannetella,' Märchensaal: Märchen aller Völker für Jung und Alt, vol. 1 (Berlin: Verlag von Carl Reimarus, 1845), no. 12, pp. 48-53. Kletke's source: Giambattista Basile, Lo cunto de li cunti overo lo trattenemiento de peccerille [Il Pentamerone], day 3, tale 1. This work was first published in two volumes in 1634 and 1636. Link to Basile's 'Cannetella' in an English translation by Richard Burton: Il Pentamerone; or, The Tale of Tales, vol. 1 (London: Henry and Company, 1893), pp. 239-48.","There was once upon a time a king who reigned over a country called Bello Puojo, He was very rich and powerful, and had everything in the world he could desire except a child. But at last, after he had been married for many years, and was quite an old man, his wife Renzolla presented him with a fine daughter, whom they called Cannetella. She grew up into a beautiful girl, and was as tall and straight as a young fir tree. When she was eighteen years old her father called her to him and said, 'You are of an age now, my daughter, to marry and settle down; but as I love you more than anything else in the world, and desire nothing but your happiness, I am determined to leave the choice of a husband to yourself. Choose a man after your own heart, and you are sure to satisfy me.' Cannetella thanked her father very much for his kindness and consideration, but told him that she had not the slightest wish to marry, and was quite determined to remain single. The king, who felt himself growing old and feeble, and longed to see an heir to the throne before he died, was very unhappy at her words, and begged her earnestly not to disappoint him. When Cannetella saw that the king had set his heart on her marriage, she said, 'Very well, dear father, I will marry to please you, for I do not wish to appear ungrateful for all your love and kindness; but you must find me a husband handsomer, cleverer, and more charming than anyone else in the world.' The king was overjoyed by her words, and from early in the morning till late at night he sat at the window and looked carefully at all the passers-by, in the hopes of finding a son-in-law among them. One day, seeing a very good-looking man crossing the street, the king called his daughter and said, 'Come quickly, dear Cannetella, and look at this man, for I think he might suit you as a husband.' They called the young man into the palace, and set a sumptuous feast before him, with every sort of delicacy you can imagine. In the middle of the meal the youth let an almond fall out of his mouth, which, however, he picked up again very quickly and hid under the tablecloth. When the feast was over the stranger went away, and the king asked Cannetella, 'Well, what did you think of the youth?' 'I think he was a clumsy wretch,' replied Cannetella. 'Fancy a man of his age letting an almond fall out of his mouth!' When the king heard her answer he returned to his watch at the window, and shortly afterwards a very handsome young man passed by. The king instantly called his daughter to come and see what she thought of the newcomer. 'Call him in,' said Cannetella, 'that we may see him close.' Another splendid feast was prepared, and when the stranger had eaten and drunk as much as he was able, and had taken his departure, the king asked Cannetella how she liked him. 'Not at all,' replied his daughter; 'what could you do with a man who requires at least two servants to help him on with his cloak, because he is too awkward to put it on properly himself?' 'If that's all you have against him,' said the king, 'I see how the land lies. You are determined not to have a husband at all; but marry someone you shall, for I do not mean my name and house to die out.' 'Well, then, my dear parent,' said Cannetella, 'I must tell you at once that you had better not count upon me, for I never mean to marry unless I can find a man with a gold head and gold teeth.' The king was very angry at finding his daughter so obstinate; but as he always gave the girl her own way in everything, he issued a proclamation to the effect that any man with a gold head and gold teeth might come forward and claim the princess as his bride, and the kingdom of Bello Puojo as a wedding gift. Now the king had a deadly enemy called Scioravante, who was a very powerful magician. No sooner had this man heard of the proclamation than he summoned his attendant spirits and commanded them to gild his head and teeth. The spirits said, at first, that the task was beyond their powers, and suggested that a pair of golden horns attached to his forehead would both be easier to make and more comfortable to wear; but Scioravante would allow no compromise, and insisted on having a head and teeth made of the finest gold. When it was fixed on his shoulders he went for a stroll in front of the palace. And the king, seeing the very man he was in search of, called his daughter, and said. 'Just look out of the window, and you will find exactly what you want.' Then, as Scioravante was hurrying past, the king shouted out to him, 'Just stop a minute, brother, and don't be in such desperate haste. If you will step in here you shall have my daughter for a wife, and I will send attendants with her, and as many horses and servants as you wish.' 'A thousand thanks,' returned Scioravante; 'I shall be delighted to marry your daughter, but it is quite unnecessary to send anyone to accompany her. Give me a horse and I will carry off the princess in front of my saddle, and will bring her to my own kingdom, where there is no lack of courtiers or servants, or, indeed, of anything your daughter can desire.' At first the king was very much against Cannetella's departing in this fashion; but finally Scioravante got his way, and placing the princess before him on his horse, he set out for his own country. Towards evening he dismounted, and entering a stable he placed Cannetella in the same stall as his horse, and said to her, 'Now listen to what I have to say. I am going to my home now, and that is a seven years' journey from here; you must wait for me in this stable, and never move from the spot, or let yourself be seen by a living soul. If you disobey my commands, it will be the worse for you.' The princess answered meekly, 'Sir, I am your servant, and will do exactly as you bid me; but I should like to know what I am to live on till you come back?' 'You can take what the horses leave,' was Scioravante's reply. When the magician had left her Cannetella felt very miserable, and bitterly cursed the day she was born. She spent all her time weeping and bemoaning the cruel fate that had driven her from a palace into a stable, from soft down cushions to a bed of straw, and from the dainties of her father's table to the food that the horses left. She led this wretched life for a few months, and during that time she never saw who fed and watered the horses, for it was all done by invisible hands. One day, when she was more than usually unhappy, she perceived a little crack in the wall, through which she could see a beautiful garden, with all manner of delicious fruits and flowers growing in it. The sight and smell of such delicacies were too much for poor Cannetella, and she said to herself, 'I will slip quietly out, and pick a few oranges and grapes, and I don't care what happens. Who is there to tell my husband what I do? And even if he should hear of my disobedience, he cannot make my life more miserable than it is already.' So she slipped out and refreshed her poor, starved body with the fruit she plucked in the garden. But a short time afterwards her husband returned unexpectedly, and one of the horses instantly told him that Cannetella had gone into the garden, in his absence, and had stolen some oranges and grapes. Scioravante was furious when he heard this, and seizing a huge knife from his pocket he threatened to kill his wife for her disobedience. But Cannetella threw herself at his feet and implored him to spare her life, saying that hunger drove even the wolf from the wood. At last she succeeded in so far softening her husband's heart that he said, 'I will forgive you this time, and spare your life; but if you disobey me again, and I hear, on my return, that you have as much as moved out of the stall, I will certainly kill you. So, beware; for I am going away once more, and shall be absent for seven years.' With these words he took his departure, and Cannetella burst into a flood of tears, and, wringing her hands, she moaned, 'Why was I ever born to such a hard fate? Oh! father, how miserable you have made your poor daughter! But, why should I blame my father? For I have only myself to thank for all my sufferings. I got the cursed head of gold, and it has brought all this misery on me. I am indeed punished for not doing as my father wished!' When a year had gone by, it chanced, one day, that the king's cooper passed the stables where Cannetella was kept prisoner. She recognised the man, and called him to come in. At first he did not know the poor princess, and could not make out who it was that called him by name. But when he heard Cannetella's tale of woe, he hid her in a big empty barrel he had with him, partly because he was sorry for the poor girl, and, even more, because he wished to gain the king's favor. Then he slung the barrel on a mule's back, and in this way the princess was carried to her own home. They arrived at the palace about four o'clock in the morning, and the cooper knocked loudly at the door. When the servants came in haste and saw only the cooper standing at the gate, they were very indignant, and scolded him soundly for coming at such an hour and waking them all out of their sleep. The king hearing the noise and the cause of it, sent for the cooper, for he felt certain the man must have some important business, to have come and disturbed the whole palace at such an early hour. The cooper asked permission to unload his mule, and Cannetella crept out of the barrel. At first the king refused to believe that it was really his daughter, for she had changed so terribly in a few years, and had grown so thin and pale, that it was pitiful to see her. At last the princess showed her father a mole she had on her light arm, and then he saw that the poor girl was indeed his long-lost Cannetella. He kissed her a thousand times, and instantly had the choicest food and drink set before her. After she had satisfied her hunger, the king said to her, 'Who would have thought, my dear daughter, to have found you in such a state? What, may I ask, has brought you to this pass?' Cannetella replied, 'That wicked man with the gold head and teeth treated me worse than a dog, and many a time, since I left you, have I longed to die. But I couldn't tell you all that I have suffered, for you would never believe me. It is enough that I am once more with you, and I shall never leave you again, for I would rather be a slave in your house than queen in any other.' In the meantime Scioravante had returned to the stables, and one of the horses told him that Cannetella had been taken away by a cooper in a barrel. When the wicked magician heard this he was beside himself with rage, and, hastening to the kingdom of Bello Puojo, he went straight to an old woman who lived exactly opposite the royal palace, and said to her, 'If you will let me see the king's daughter, I will give you whatever reward you like to ask for.' The woman demanded a hundred ducats of gold, and Scioravante counted them out of his purse and gave them to her without a murmur. Then the old woman led him to the roof of the house, where he could see Cannetella combing out her long hair in a room in the top story of the palace. The princess happened to look out of the window, and when she saw her husband gazing at her, she got such a fright that she flew downstairs to the king, and said, ' My lord and father, unless you shut me up instantly in a room with seven iron doors, I am lost.' 'If that's all,' said the king, 'it shall be done at once.' And he gave orders for the doors to be closed on the spot. When Scioravante saw this he returned to the old woman, and said, 'I will give you whatever you like if you will go into the palace, hide under the princess's bed, and slip this little piece of paper beneath her pillow, saying, as you do so, 'May everyone in the palace, except the princess, fall into a sound sleep.' ' The old woman demanded another hundred golden ducats, and then proceeded to carry out the magician's wishes. No sooner had she slipped the piece of paper under Cannetella's pillow, than all the people in the palace fell fast asleep, and only the princess remained awake. Then Scioravante hurried to the seven doors and opened them one after the other. Cannetella screamed with terror when she saw her husband, but no one came to her help, for all in the palace lay as if they were dead. The magician seized her in the bed on which she lay, and was going to carry her off with him, when the little piece of paper which the old woman had placed under her pillow fell on the floor. In an instant all the people in the palace woke up, and as Cannetella was still screaming for help, they rushed to her rescue. They seized Scioravante and put him to death; so he was caught in the trap which he had laid for the princess -- and, as is so often the case in this world, the biter himself was bit.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
900,Greyfoot,Denmark,NA,"J. Christian Bay, Danish","There was once a king of England whose daughter was very famous. She was the most beautiful princess ever seen or heard of. But she had one great fault -- namely, that she was haughty and proud. Of course she had many suitors, but all were refused, and as she possessed a sharp tongue, she moreover scorned them, giving nicknames to everyone who was bold enough to woo her. At that time there was a young prince in Denmark. The fame of her beauty had reached him, and he sent word, asking for her hand in marriage. The princess answered, however, that she would rather earn her bread by spinning all her life than marry such a poor and miserable prince. The messengers were obliged to return with this unfavorable response. The young prince had determined, however, that he would win her. He dispatched fresh messengers with letters, and sent her a gift consisting of six beautiful horses, white as milk, with pink muzzles, gold shoes, and scarlet rugs. Such horses had never been seen in England before, hence the king put in a good word for the Danish prince: He who could send such a gift of betrothal must by all means be considered her equal. But the beautiful princess ordered the grooms to cut off the manes and tails of the six steeds, to soil them with dirt, and turn them over to the messengers, whom she instructed to tell the prince that rather than be married to him would she sit in the street and sell earthenware. When the messengers returned, relating all that the princess had said and done, the Danish king became so incensed that he wanted to put to sea with all his ships and revenge this insult. His son asked him, however, to desist from any such action; he wished to attempt once more, by fair means. If he were unsuccessful, he would himself know how to take revenge. To this his father assented. The prince now built a ship, so beautiful and costly that its like had never been. The gunwale was artistically carved with all sorts of animals; deer, dragons, and lions were seen jumping about, and the stem and stern were richly gilded. The masts were mounted with gold, the sails made of silk, every second canvas being red, and the remainder white. This ship was manned with the handsomest lads in the country, and the prince gave them a letter to the king of England and his proud daughter, the princess, asking her to accept him, and receive the ship as his gift of betrothment. The gorgeous ship rapidly crossed the sea and stopped immediately outside of the royal palace. It commanded general attention, no one having seen such a magnificent vessel before. The couriers landed and delivered their message. Now the king used his best efforts to persuade his daughter. A suitor so wealthy and munificent, so true and devoted as this prince, certainly deserved a favorable answer. The princess graciously listened to his entreaties, feigning an intention to think the matter over until the next day. But at night she gave orders to sink the ship, and in the morning she told the couriers to return as best they could; that she would rather beg her food at the doors than call their poor fellow of a Danish prince her husband. The couriers returned to Denmark with this disdainful answer, and with the tidings of the fate of the king's ship, which was now, with its gilded masts and its silken sails, at the bottom of the sea. Upon hearing this, the king at once determined to man his fleet and take a bloody revenge. The prince dissuaded him, however, vowing solemnly that he would make the haughty princess repent the disdain with which she had treated him. Upon this he left Denmark quite alone, and reached England, no one knowing him. Disguised, as he was, in an old hat, dingy clothes, and wooden shoes, he arrived at the palace towards evening and asked the herdsman for a bite of bread and a couch. He obtained both, and during the night kept company with the cows in the stable. The next morning the beggar -- Greyfoot, so he called himself -- sought and obtained permission to help in driving the cattle to their watering place. The latter happened to be situated exactly outside of the windows occupied by the princess. Greyfoot now opened a bundle which he had brought with him, and produced a golden spindle which he proceeded to use in driving forth the cows. The princess, who was standing at one of the windows, saw the spindle, and taking at once a great fancy to it, she sent some one down to inquire whether the beggar were willing to sell it. Greyfoot answered that he did not care to sell it for money; the price he asked was permission to sleep outside of her door the following night. 'No,' said the princess; she could not think of such a price. 'Very well,' answered Greyfoot; 'that settles the matter, and I keep my spindle.' The princess had taken it into her head, however, that she must possess the beggar's treasure, but as she did not like any one to know that such a poor-looking man was admitted to the palace, she sent a secret message by one of her maids, telling him to come late at night, and to be gone early in the morning. This he did. When the princess looked out of the window the next morning, she noticed Greyfoot chasing the cows with a golden reel, and at once sent one of her maids down to inquire whether it could be bought. 'Yes,' said Greyfoot, 'and the price is the same as yesterday.' When the princess heard this she was not a little astonished by the audacity of the beggar, but as the treasure could be obtained in no other way, she assented, and everything passed as on the previous night. The third morning Greyfoot drove the cattle to the watering place, as usual, but this time he was using a weaver's shuttle of pure gold. She sent for him, and when he appeared in her presence she said, 'Now, Greyfoot, how much do you ask for this treasure of yours? Will you take a hundred dollars for it?' 'No,' answered Greyfoot, 'it cannot be bought for money. If you will permit me to sleep inside the door of your room tonight, you may have it.' 'I think you are mad,' said the princess. 'No, I cannot hear of any such price. But I am willing to pay you two hundred dollars.' 'No,' said Greyfoot again; 'it must be as I say. If you want the shuttle, you must pay the price which I ask. Otherwise, I will keep the treasure myself.' The princess looked at her maids, and they looked back at her, and all looked at the magnificent shuttle. She must possess it, whispered the maids. They would sit in a circle around her, keeping guard the whole night. Finally the princess told Greyfoot that he might come late at night; they would let him in. He must be careful, however, and tell no one, since they were all running a great risk. When it grew late, and the princess was about to fall asleep, the maids were all sitting around her, each one holding a lighted candle in her hands. Greyfoot entered, and quietly stretched himself on a rug near the door. But as the maids were not accustomed to much waking, one by one they became drowsy, and very soon everyone in the room was soundly asleep. As the ladies had rested little during the two previous nights, it was no wonder that the sun did not wake them very early the next morning. The king, who was accustomed to see his daughter at the breakfast table, became alarmed when she did not appear as usual, and hastened to her rooms. Imagine his surprise when he found, outside of her door an old hat and a pair of well-worn wooden shoes. Opening the door quietly, he stole into the room. There the princess was, fast asleep, with all her maids; and so was Greyfoot, on the rug inside the door. Usually the king was a very amicable and quiet man, but when this spectacle met his eyes he became angry. He controlled himself, however, and called his daughter's name aloud. She awoke, and so did the maids, who at once escaped in all directions. But the king turned to his daughter and said, 'I now see what kind of company you prefer, and although it is in my power to let this fellow hang and have you buried alive, I will allow you to keep each other. The minister shall unite you in marriage, whereupon you will both be sent away. I will never bear the sight of you again.' The king left them, and shortly afterwards the minister appeared with two witnesses. The haughty princess was married to Greyfoot, the beggar. Then the couple were at liberty to go whither they desired. When they passed the barn door Greyfoot turned to the princess, saying, 'We cannot walk on the highroad in this style; you must change your clothes before we depart!' So they paid a visit to the herdsman's wife, who gave the princess -- now Greyfoot's wife -- a gown of linsey-woolsey, a woolen jacket, a cape, and a pair of heavy shoes. 'That fits better,' said Greyfoot, and they walked away. At first they walked each on his own side of the road, without speaking; but in a little while the princess raised her eyes to look at the man who was now her rightful husband. To her astonishment she observed that he was neither old nor ugly, but really a handsome young man, in spite of his old and dingy clothes. Being not accustomed to walk very far, especially with such heavy footwear, the princess soon felt exhausted, and said, 'Dear Greyfoot, do not walk so fast!' 'No,' he returned, 'as I have now been burdened with you, I suppose I cannot leave you on the open road.' So he entered the next house and hired an old carriage, the bottom of which was covered with straw. They now drove on, until at length they arrived at a seaport. Greyfoot immediately sought and obtained passage for himself and his wife, as servants, and the princess felt much relieved when at last they were out of her father's domains, although she had no idea of their destination. The voyage ended in Denmark, and when they had safely landed, Greyfoot proceeded to rent a small hut in the neighborhood of the royal palace. It consisted of only one little room with a stone floor and an open fireplace, where she must prepare their frugal meals. In a little while Greyfoot went out, and returned with an old spinning wheel and a large bundle of tow, of the meanest quality. 'While you work with this,' he said, ' I must try to find some occupation, as best I can. Neither of us can afford to be idle.' Thus time passed slowly and quietly. Greyfoot had secured work at the palace as a woodcutter, and returned every evening with a loaf of bread and a few pennies. His wife was spinning until her fingertips were scorched, and her knees shaking under her. One evening Greyfoot brought home a wheelbarrow filled with earthenware. This he had bought on credit, he said, and she was in duty bound to go to town the next day and sell the things. She of course made no objections. The next day Greyfoot went to his work, as usual, and his wife set out for the town with her earthenware. But when she had just managed to sell a few of them, a troop of stately knights came galloping down the street. One of the horses became wild and rushed in among her articles, which went into a thousand pieces under the heavy hoofs which trampled upon them. The riders pursued their way; but the poor princess returned to the hut, and, sitting down, wept bitterly. In the evening, when Greyfoot returned, she told him of her misfortune. 'Now we are utterly unfortunate,' said he, 'for I have no money with which to pay for these articles. You will now have to sew a wallet, go from door to door, and beg for victuals and pennies, until our debts have been paid.' The princess did as he bid her, and was glad that her husband did not scold her for her ill fortune. She begged at everyone's door, bringing home, at length, several pieces of bread and some pennies. 'That will not bring us very far,' said Greyfoot, when the princess had displayed the contents of the wallet. 'I have now found a good place for you at the palace. They are preparing for a wedding, and tomorrow you are to lend a hand in the kitchen. Do your best and make yourself useful; maybe they will keep you and pay you good wages. Tomorrow you will obtain your meals and twenty pennies.' The next morning, before Greyfoot's wife went away, her husband said, ' Today I must stay at home; I have felt an illness coming upon me, so I will rest and try to get better.' She burst into tears, and told him that when he was ill she could not think of leaving him. When he answered, however, that she was expected, and necessarily must go, she kissed him good-bye, hoping that he would soon feel better, and promising to return as speedily as possible. 'The haughty princess' spent the whole day among the pots and pans in the royal kitchen. When she returned to the hut, Greyfoot told her that he felt better, and further related how an order had been issued announcing that the Prince of Denmark was to be married to a Russian princess. Her costly bridal gown had arrived, but the princess herself, having been detained by wind and waves, was unable to arrive in due time for the ceremony, and on the following day every girl and woman was to present herself at the palace and be measured. She who filled the measure would be selected as the bride's deputy. 'And you,' concluded Greyfoot, 'you must put in an appearance. If you are fortunate, your wages may be sufficient for paying our debts.' In the morning Greyfoot declared that he felt worse than on the day before, but would not keep her from going. She hesitated, but as he insisted, she threw her arms around him, kissed him, and left. The royal measurer was busy among the many women assembled in the courtyard, and it seemed impossible to find anyone who was the right measure. But when at length he reached Greyfoot's wife, he declared that she was the very person they wanted. Now she was taken into the palace, and attired in the gorgeous gown, the bridal veil, and a pair of exquisite slippers. When finally the crown was placed on her head, everyone declared that the real princess could hardly be prettier. In a little while a beautiful carriage drawn by six milk-white horses was seen at the door, and Greyfoot's wife was asked to enter. The prince was already seated in the carriage; she had never seen him, but remembered having heard of him in past days. They drove along the road until they came to Greyfoot's hut. Seeing already at a distance that it was afire, the poor woman in the carriage uttered a piercing shriek, and cried, 'My husband! save him, for heaven's sake! He was ill when I left him, and may not have escaped.' The prince now spoke to her for the first time, and said, 'If that ugly woodcutter is your husband, you had better leave him; he is no husband for you.' But she answered, 'He is my husband, and was always good and kind to me. How could I leave him? Even if you offered me the place which I am now occupying for your real bride, I would refuse it, and gladly return to the hut where I have lived the happiest part of my life!' The prince smilingly answered, 'You are my real bride, and kept your word when you said that rather than marry me would you earn your bread by spinning, or by selling earthenware, or beg for it at the doors.' Now she recognized him, and throwing her arms around him, she said that her sufferings had been of great benefit to her, and that she would now stay with him forever. Thus 'the haughty princess of England' became queen of Denmark. This happened so long ago, however, that hardly any one remembers having seen her. But the story is true, nevertheless. Fairy and Folk Tales (New York and London: Harper and Brothers, 1899), pp. 35-46.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
900,Haaken Grizzlebeard,Norway,NA,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Håken Borkenskjegg, Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo], 1842-1852), translated by George Webb Dasent (1859). Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman.","Once upon a time there was a princess who was so haughty and proud that no suitor was good enough for her. She made fun of them all, and sent them about their business, one after the other. But in spite of this, new suitors kept on coming to the palace, for she was a beauty, the wicked hussy! One day a prince came to woo her, and his name was Haaken Grizzlebeard. The first night he was there, the princess commanded the king's jester to cut off the ears of one of the prince's horses, and to slit the jaws of the other up to the ears. The next day when the prince went out for a ride, the princess stood on the porch and watched him. 'Well!' she cried,'I never saw the like of this in all my life; the sharp north wind that blows here has taken the ears off one of your horses, while the other stood by gaping at what was going on until his jaws split right up to his ears.' With that she broke into a roar of laughter, ran in, slammed the door, and let him drive off. He returned home; but as he went, he thought to himself that he would pay her off one day. After a bit, he put on a great beard of moss, threw a large fur cloak over his clothes, and dressed himself up like a beggar. He went to a goldsmith and bought a golden spinning wheel, and sat down with it under the princess's window and began to file away at his spinning wheel, and to turn it this way and that, for it wasn't quite in order, and besides, it did not have a stand. So when the princess got up in the morning, she came to the window and opened it, and asked the beggar if he would sell his golden spinning wheel. 'No, it isn't for sale,' said Haaken Grizzlebeard; 'but if I may sleep outside your bedroom door tonight, I'll give it you.' The princess thought that that was a good bargain; there could be no danger in letting him sleep outside her door. So she got the wheel and that night Haaken Grizzlebeard lay down outside her bedroom. But as the night wore on he began to freeze. 'Huttetuttetuttetu! It is so cold; let me in,' he cried. 'I think that you're out of your mind,' said the princess. 'Oh, Huttetuttetuttetu! It is so bitter cold, please let me in,' said Haaken Grizzlebeard again. 'Be quiet! Hold your tongue!' said the princess. 'If my father were to know that there was a man in the house, I should be in serious trouble.' 'Oh, Huttetuttetuttetu! I'm almost frozen to death. Just let me come inside and lie on the floor,' said Haaken Grizzlebeard. There was nothing she could do about it. She had to let him in, and when he was inside, he lay on the ground and fell sound asleep. Some time afterward, Haaken came again with the stand to the spinning wheel and sat down under the princess's window, and began to file at it, for it was not quite in order. When she heard him filing, she opened the window and began to talk to him, and to ask what he had. 'Oh, only the stand to that spinning wheel which your royal highness bought. I thought that because you had the wheel you might like to have the stand as well.' 'What do you want for it?' asked the princess. It was not for sale any more than the wheel had been, but she might have it if she would let him sleep on the floor of her bedroom the next night. She agreed, but only if he would to be sure to lie still, and not to shiver and call out 'huttetu,' or any such stuff. Haaken Grizzlebeard promised fair enough, but as the night wore on he began to shiver and shake, and to ask whether he might not come nearer, and lie on the floor alongside the princess's bed. She couldn't do anything about it; she had to let him, or the king would hear the noise he was making. So Haaken Grizzlebeard lay alongside the princess's bed, and fell sound asleep. It was a long while before Haaken Grizzlebeard came again, this time with him a golden yarn reel, and he sat down and began to file away at it under the princess's window. Then came the old story over again. When the princess heard what was going on, she came to the window and asked him how he was, and whether he would sell the golden yarn reel? 'It is not to be had for money; but I'll give it to you for nothing, if you'll let me sleep in your bedroom tonight, with my head on your bedstead.' She agreed, but only if he would give his word to be quiet and make no noise. He said he would do his best to be still; but as the night wore on he again began to shiver and shake until his teeth chattered. 'Huttetuttetuttetu! It is so bitter cold! Do let me get into bed and warm myself a little,' said Haaken Grizzlebeard. 'Get into bed!' said the princess; 'why, you must be out of your mind.' 'Huttetuttetuttetu!' said Haaken; 'do let me get into bed. Huttetuttetuttetu!' 'Hush! Hush! For God's sake, be quiet!' said the princess. 'If father knows there is a man in here, I shall be in serious trouble. I'm sure he'll kill me on the spot.' 'Huttetuttetuttetu! Let me get into bed,' said Haaken Grizzlebeard, who kept on shivering so that the whole room shook. Well, there was nothing she could do about it. She had to let him get into bed. He slept soundly and gently, but a little while later the princess gave birth to a child. The king grew so wild with rage that he very nearly made an end of both mother and baby. Just after this happened, Haaken Grizzlebeard came tramping that way once more, as if by chance, and took his seat down in the kitchen, like any other beggar. When the princess came out and saw him, she cried, 'Ah, God have mercy on me, for the bad luck you have brought me. Father is ready to fly into a rage. Let me go home with you.' 'You're too well bred to follow me,' said Haaken, 'for I have nothing but a log hut to live in; and I don't know how I would ever feed you, for it's all I can do just to find food for myself.' 'I don't care how you get it, or whether you get it at all,' she said; 'only let me be with you, for if I stay here any longer, my father will surely kill me.' So she got permission to go with the beggar, as she called him, and they walked a long, long way, even though she was not a good walker. When she left her father's land and entered into another, she asked whose it was? 'Oh! This is Haaken Grizzlebeard's, if you must know,' he said. 'Indeed!' said the princess. 'I could have married him if I had wanted to, and then I would not have had to walk about like a beggar's wife.' They came to grand castles, and woods, and parks, and when she asked whose they were, the beggar's answer was always the same, 'Oh! They are Haaken Grizzlebeard's.' The princess was very sad that she had not chosen the man who had such broad lands. Last of all they came to a palace, where he said he was known, and where he thought he could get work for her, so that they might have something to live on. He built a cabin at the edge of the woods for them to live in. Every day he went to the king's palace, as he said, to chop wood and draw water for the cook, and when he came back he brought a few scraps of food; but they did not go very far. One day, when he came home from the palace, he said, 'Tomorrow I will stay at home and look after the baby, but you must get ready to go to the palace, for the prince said you were to come and try your hand at baking.' 'Bake!' said the princess; 'I can't bake, for I never did such a thing in my life.' 'Well, you must go,' said Haaken, 'since the prince has said it. If you can't bake, you can learn; you have only got to look how the rest bake; and as you leave, you must steal some bread for me.' 'I can't steal,' said the princess. 'You can learn that too,' said Haaken; 'you know that we are very short of food. But take care that the prince doesn't see you, for he has eyes everywhere.' When she was on her way, Haaken ran by a shortcut and reached the palace long before her, and took off his rags and beard, and put on his princely robes. The princess took her turn in the bakehouse, and did as Haaken had asked her, for she stole bread until her pockets were crammed full. That evening, when she was about to go home, the prince said, 'We don't know very much about this old vagabond woman. I think we'd best see if she is taking anything away with her.' He thrust his hand into all her pockets, and felt her all over, and when he found the bread, he became very angry, and raised a great stir. She began to moan and cry, and said, 'The beggar made me do it, and I couldn't help it.' 'Well,' said the prince at last, 'it ought to have gone hard with you; but for the beggar's sake I will forgive you this time.' When she was on her way home, he took off his robes, put on his skin cloak, and his false beard, and reached the cabin before her. When she came home, he was busy tending the baby. 'You made me go against my own conscience. Today was the first time I ever stole, and it will be the last;' and with that she told him how it had gone with her, and what the prince had said. A few days later, Haaken Grizzlebeard came home in the evening and said, 'Tomorrow I will stay at home and tend the baby, for they are going to kill a pig at the palace, and you must help them make sausages.' 'I make sausages!' said the princess; 'I can't do any such thing. I have eaten sausages often enough, but I have never made one in my life.' But there was nothing that she could do about it; the prince had said it, and she had to go. As for not knowing how, she only had to do what the others did, and at the same time Haaken asked her to steal some sausages for him. 'No, I can't steal,' she said; 'you know how it went last time.' 'Well, you can learn to steal. Who knows? You may have better luck this time,' said Haaken Grizzlebeard. When she was on her way, Haaken ran by a shortcut, reached the palace long before her, took off his skin cloak and false beard, and stood in the kitchen with his royal robes as she came in. So the princess stood by when the pig was killed. She made sausages with the others, and she did as Haaken had told her to, and stuffed her pockets full of sausages. That evening, when she was about to go home, the prince said, 'This beggar's wife was long fingered last time; we had better see that she isn't carrying anything off.' So he began to thrust his hands into her pockets, and when he found the sausages he was again very angry, and made a great to do, threatening to send for the constable and have her thrown into jail. 'Oh, God bless your royal highness; do let me off! The beggar made me do it,' she said, and cried bitterly. 'Well,' said Haaken,'you ought to be punished for it; but for the beggar's sake I forgive you.' When she was gone, he changed his clothes again, ran by the shortcut, and when she reached the cabin, there he was before her. She told him the whole story, and swore it was the last time he would get her to do such a thing. Now a little later the man came home from the palace and said, 'Our prince is going to be married, but the bride is sick, so the tailor can't measure her for her wedding gown. The prince wants you to go to the palace and be measured instead of the bride; for he says that you are just the same height and shape. But after you have been measured, don't just leave. You can stand about, and when the tailor cuts out the gown, you can pick up the largest scraps, and bring them home for a vest for me.' 'No, I can't steal,' she said; 'besides, you know how it went last time.' 'You can learn then,' said Haaken, 'and you may have better luck this time.' She thought it bad, but still she went and did as she was told. She stood by while the tailor was cutting out the gown, and she swept up all the biggest scraps, and stuffed them into her pockets; and when she was on her way out, the prince said, 'We may as well see if this old girl has not been long fingered this time too.' So he began to feel and search her pockets, and when he found the pieces he became very angry, and began to stamp and scold furiously, while she cried and said, 'Please forgive me; the beggar made me do it, and I couldn't help it.' 'Well, you ought to be punished for it,' said Haaken; 'but for the beggar's sake I forgive you.' So it went now just as it had gone before, and when she got back to the cabin, the beggar was there before her. 'Oh, Heaven help me,' she said; 'you will be the death of me by making me wicked. The prince was so angry that he threatened me both with the constable and jail.' One evening, some time later, Haaken came home to the cabin and said, 'The prince wants you to go up to the palace and stand in for the bride, for the bride is still sick in bed. He won't put off the wedding, and he says, that you are so like her, that no one could tell one from the other; so tomorrow you must get ready to go to the palace.' 'I think that you are out of your mind, both you and the prince,' she said. 'Do you think I look fit to stand in the bride's place? Look at me! Can any beggar's wench look worse than I?' 'Well, the prince said you were to go, and so you have to go,' said Haaken Grizzlebeard. There was nothing that she could do about it. She had to go; and when she reached the palace, they dressed her out so finely that no princess ever looked so beautiful. The bridal procession went to church, where she stood in for the bride, and when they came back, there was dancing and merriment in the palace. But just as she was dancing with the prince, she saw a gleam of light through the window, and behold, the cabin at the edge of the woods was all one bright flame. 'Oh! The beggar, and the baby, and the cabin,' she screamed out, and was just about to faint. 'Here is the beggar, and there is the baby, and so let the cabin burn away,' said Haaken Grizzlebeard. She recognized him again, and then the joy and celebration began for real. Since that time, I have heard nothing more about them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
900,King Thrushbeard,Germany,"The Grimms' source: The Hassenpflug family from Hanau, supplemented by Henriette Dorothea (Dortchen) Wild and Ludowine Haxthausen. This story was included in the first edition (1812) of the Grimms' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, and was slightly modified in the second edition (1819). Link to a separate file containing only King Thrushbeard by the Grimm brothers.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, König Drosselbart, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, no. 52.","A king had a daughter who was beautiful beyond all measure, but at the same time so proud and arrogant that no suitor was good enough for her. She rejected one after the other, ridiculing them as well. Once the king sponsored a great feast and invited from far and near all the men wanting to get married. They were all placed in a row according to their rank and standing. First came the kings, then the grand dukes, then the princes, the earls, the barons, and the aristocracy. Then the king's daughter was led through the ranks, but she objected to something about each one. One was too fat: 'The wine barrel,' she said. Another was too tall: 'Thin and tall, no good at all.' The third was too short: 'Short and thick is never quick.' The fourth was too pale: 'As pale as death.' The fifth too red: 'A prize rooster.' The sixth was not straight enough: 'Green wood, dried behind the stove.' And thus she had some objection to each one, but she ridiculed especially one good king who stood at the very top of the row, and whose chin had grown a little crooked. 'Look!' she cried out, laughing, 'He has a chin like a thrush's beak.' And from that time he was called Thrushbeard. Now the old king, seeing that his daughter did nothing but ridicule the people, making fun of all the suitors who were gathered there, became very angry, and he swore that she should have for her husband the very first beggar to come to his door. A few days later a minstrel came and sang beneath the window, trying to earn a small handout. When the king heard him he said, 'Let him come up.' So the minstrel, in his dirty, ragged clothes, came in and sang before the king and his daughter, and when he was finished he asked for a small gift. The king said, 'I liked your song so much that I will give you my daughter for a wife.' The king's daughter took fright, but the king said, 'I have taken an oath to give you to the very first beggar, and I will keep it.' Her protests did not help. The priest was called in, and she had to marry the minstrel at once. After that had happened the king said, 'It is not proper for you, a beggar's wife, to stay in my palace any longer. All you can do now is to go away with your husband.' The beggar led her out by the hand, and she had to leave with him, walking on foot. They came to a large forest, and she asked, 'Who owns this beautiful forest?' 'It belongs to King Thrushbeard. If you had taken him, it would be yours.' Afterwards they crossed a meadow, and she asked again, 'Who owns this beautiful green meadow?' 'It belongs to king Thrushbeard. If you had taken him, it would be yours.' Then they walked through a large town, and she asked again, 'Who owns this beautiful large town?' 'It belongs to king Thrushbeard. If you had taken him, it would be yours.' 'I do not like you to always be wishing for another husband,' said the minstrel. 'Am I not good enough for you?' At last they came to a very little hut, and she said, 'Oh goodness. What a small house. Who owns this miserable tiny hut?' The minstrel answered, 'This is my house and yours, where we shall live together.' She had to stoop in order to get in the low door. 'Where are the servants?' said the king's daughter. 'What servants?' answered the beggar. 'You must do for yourself what you want to have done. Now make a fire at once, put some water on to boil, so you can cook me something to eat. I am very tired.' But the king's daughter knew nothing about lighting fires or cooking, and the beggar had to lend a hand himself to get anything done at all. When they had finished their scanty meal they went to bed. But he made her get up very early the next morning in order to do the housework. For a few days they lived in this way, as well as they could, but they finally came to the end of their provisions. Then the man said, 'Wife, we cannot go on any longer eating and drinking here and earning nothing. You must weave baskets.' He went out, cut some willows, and brought them home. Then she began to weave baskets, but the hard willows cut into her delicate hands. 'I see that this will not do,' said the man. 'You had better spin. Perhaps you can do that better.' She sat down and tried to spin, but the hard thread soon cut into her soft fingers until they bled. 'See,' said the man. 'You are not good for any sort of work. I made a bad bargain with you. Now I will try to start a business with pots and earthenware. You must sit in the marketplace and sell them.' 'Oh!' she thought. 'If people from my father's kingdom come to the market and see me sitting there selling things, how they will ridicule me!' But her protests did not help. She had to do what her husband demanded, unless she wanted to die of hunger. At first it went well. People bought the woman's wares because she was beautiful, and they paid her whatever she asked. Many even gave her the money and let her keep the pots. So they lived on what she earned as long as it lasted. Then the husband bought a lot of new pottery. She sat down with this at the corner of the marketplace and set it around her for sale. But suddenly there came a drunken hussar galloping along, and he rode right into the pots, breaking them into a thousand pieces. She began to cry, and was so afraid that she did not know what to do. 'Oh! What will happen to me?' she cried. 'What will my husband say about this?' She ran home and told him of the misfortune. 'Who would sit at the corner of the marketplace with earthenware?' said the man. 'Now stop crying. I see very well that you are not fit for any ordinary work. Now I was at our king's palace and asked if they couldn't use a kitchen maid. They promised me to take you. In return you will get free food.' The king's daughter now became a kitchen maid, and had to be available to the cook, and to do the dirtiest work. In each of her pockets she fastened a little jar, in which she took home her share of the leftovers. And this is what they lived on. It happened that the wedding of the king's eldest son was to be celebrated, so the poor woman went up and stood near the door of the hall to look on. When all the lights were lit, and people, each more beautiful than the other, entered, and all was full of pomp and splendor, she thought about her plight with a sad heart, and cursed the pride and haughtiness which had humbled her and brought her to such great poverty. The smell of the delicious dishes which were being taken in and out reached her, and now and then the servants threw her a few scraps, which she put in her jar to take home. Then suddenly the king's son entered, clothed in velvet and silk, with gold chains around his neck. When he saw the beautiful woman standing by the door he took her by the hand and wanted danced with her. But she refused and took fright, for she saw that he was King Thrushbeard, the suitor whom she had rejected with scorn. Her struggles did not help. He pulled her into the hall. But the string that tied up her pockets broke, and the pots fell to the floor. The soup ran out, and the scraps flew everywhere. When the people saw this, everyone laughed and ridiculed her. She was so ashamed that she would rather have been a thousand fathoms beneath the ground. She jumped out the door and wanted to run away, but a man overtook her on the stairs and brought her back. And when she looked at him, it was King Thrushbeard again. He said to her kindly, 'Don't be afraid. I and the minstrel who has been living with you in that miserable hut are one and the same. For the love of you I disguised myself. And I was also the hussar who broke your pottery to pieces. All this was done to humble your proud spirit and to punish you for the arrogance with which you ridiculed me.' Then she cried bitterly and said, 'I was terribly wrong, and am not worthy to be your wife.' But he said, 'Be comforted. The evil days are past. Now we will celebrate our wedding.' Then the maids-in-waiting came and dressed her in the most splendid clothing, and her father and his whole court came and wished her happiness in her marriage with King Thrushbeard, and their true happiness began only now. I wish that you and I had been there as well.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
900,Peter Redhat,Denmark,"Stroebe's source: Evald Tang Kristensen, Per Rødhat.","Klara Stroebe, Danish Fairy Book, translated from the German by Frederick H. Martens (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1922), no. 13, pp. 110-21.","The king, here in Denmark, had a son, who also had a good opinion of himself, and it occurred to him to set forth and sue for the princess's hand. So he took ship and set sail with a great retinue. When he reached London, he went to the castle and told the king of his intentions. The king said he had no objection, save that the princess must have a free hand in the matter, and so they called her. But when the prince made his proposal, she threw back her head, and said she no more wished to have any dealings with him than with her father's blacking-brush or blacking. And with that he was at liberty to march off. Now he decided that he would play a trick on her in payment for her answer. So he went back to his ship, and had his things brought ashore and placed in a room which he had hired, and instructed his people to sail home and tell his father he would not be back for the present. Then he told his servant to go to town, find the shabbiest vagabond to be met with, and change clothes with him. The servant went up and down the streets, and there saw many a poor devil; but it was his task to find the most wretched-looking of all. At last he heard voices in a cellar and went down. There sat a fellow called Peter Redhat, and he was the raggedest the servant had seen thus far. The servant asked whether he would change clothes with him. But Peter Redhat grew furious, because he thought the other wished to make a fool of him. Yet he was quite in earnest, and so the change was made. Peter had an enormously large, broad-brimmed hat, known throughout the city; and this the servant obtained as well. Back he went to the prince with these clothes, and all was satisfactory. In the meantime the prince had visited a goldsmith, and had ordered a golden distaff, a golden spindle, and a golden yarn-reel, and when they were ready he put on Peter Redhat's clothes and went with his golden distaff to the king's garden. There he sat down and began to spin beneath the princess's windows. When she awoke and saw Peter Redhat sitting there, spinning with a golden distaff, she sent down one of her maids to him, with the princess's compliments, to ask whether she could not buy the distaff from him. Yes, it could be done, but he wished to speak to her himself. She did not much care to do so, yet she had never seen anything quite so handsome as the distaff, and she wanted it so much that she made up her mind to go down to Peter. Then she asked him what he asked for the distaff. All he wanted was permission to sit in her room for a night. The princess was half inclined to be angry, and turned on her heel with the words: 'No! Fie, for shame, that such a pig should sit in my room! That cannot be.' But that was the only way she could obtain the distaff, said he, for he would not sell it for money. The princess looked at the distaff, and her wish to possess it grew stronger, and the longer she looked the more she wanted it; till she felt that she simply could not go on living without the distaff. So she discussed with her ladies-in-waiting whether the matter might be arranged. They decided that it might, if he were willing to promise to remain seated in one and the same place, and they remained on guard in the room overnight. So she received the distaff, and at evening Peter Redhat came and sat him down on a chair near a little table. There he sat all night long, and did not move from the spot. In the morning he had to leave, so he went down and took his golden spindle. The princess slept late, and when she awoke she saw Peter Redhat sitting in the garden, reeling the yarn that he had spun the day before. When the princess saw the spindle she sent down one of her maids, with her compliments, to ask whether she could not buy the spindle from him. Yes, the princess could buy it, but he wished to talk to her himself. So she came down to him, for she wanted the spindle very much, and it seemed to her that it must be joined to the distaff. 'What does it cost?' she asked him. It cost no more than the permission to sit over-night by the side of her bed. 'Fie, for shame! Peter Redhat sitting beside my bed,' cried she, 'that would never do!' But she could get the spindle no other way. So she went in to her ladies-in-waiting, and asked whether they did not think that he might be allowed to sit beside her bed, if all twelve of them sat there too, and three or four lights were placed on the table, because she had such a desire to obtain the spindle. And they decided that if they put the table, with five lights on it, close to the bed, and then stationed themselves around the table, close to the bed, it might answer. So she got the spindle, and Peter Redhat came that evening and sat down in a chair beside the bed in which she lay. But the princess did not sleep much that night, because Peter Redhat sat there and looked at her the whole night through. When day dawned he had to leave again, and this time he went home and took the golden bobbin, for now he had to wind the yarn that he had reeled the day before. The princess slept somewhat late; but when she awoke and came to the window, there sat Peter Redhat, diligently winding yarn. She at once fell in love with the bobbin, for she had never yet seen one so beautiful, and if she could obtain it she would have the complete spinning-set. She sent down one of her ladies, with her compliments, to ask whether she could not buy the bobbin. Yes, surely she could buy the bobbin, but he himself wished to talk to her. So she had to come down to Peter for the third time. 'What does the bobbin cost?' she asked him. No more than permission to lie at the foot of the princess's bed that night. Fie, for shame, that Peter Redhat should lie at the foot of her bed! That could never be! And she grew angry. But there was no other way of getting the bobbin, and so she consulted her ladies-in-waiting about it. They thought that if she placed twelve chairs along the sides of the bed, and one of them were to sit on each chair with a lighted candle, it might be done, for, of course, they knew what the princess wanted. The princess received the bobbin, and at evening, when she had gone to bed, Peter Redhat came. She lay as close as she could to the wall, and he was ordered to lie as closely as lie could against the foot of the bed. Then he began to undress, and he flung one garment here and another there, and his big red hat he threw in front of the door. Then he lay down and at once began to snore, so that the walls shook. Now the ladies-in-waiting had been on guard for two nights in succession and, one after another, they fell asleep, and the candles fell from their hands, and went out and at last there was only a single light left burning -- all the other ladies were sleeping. Then the princess said that since he was sleeping so very soundly, the light might be put out, if only the ladies would be ready to come should she call them. But the ladies were not called, and all of them slept so very late, right into the next forenoon, that the king himself came to wake his daughter. But when he opened the door he could not get in, because of Peter's hat, which he first had to shove aside. The king recognized the hat at once, and became furiously angry. Peter Redhat had to get up, into his clothes and be off as soon as possible; and then came his daughter's turn. She was banished from the country and had to leave that very day So she had to make the best of it and see that she got away. Some money was given her, but it was far too little, since she now had to look out for herself, and was not used to traveling alone. When she drove off, Peter Redhat sat up behind, and when she stopped at an inn to remain overnight, Peter Redhat stopped there too. She saw to it that she had the best of everything, but Peter Redhat lived as simply as possible. On the following day she drove on, and so it went for several days; while Peter always saw to it that he kept pace with her. In the course of time the princess's money came to an end, and she had to go a-foot. Peter took a couple of good sandwiches with him and when the princess started out, he started out at the same time. He passed her and said good-day, but she did not answer him, and would not even glance at the side of the road on which he walked. In the evening they reached an inn, and she was given the best room, while Peter had to be satisfied with one less than second-best. On the following day he passed her again, and when he said good-day to her, she was at last able to look around and thank him. Then he asked her whether she would not like to have a sandwich. Yes, she would, for her money was going fast; soon she would be unable to pay for a night's lodging. Then Peter said he would pay for her. They came to an inn and left it again the following morning. Then he told her that he could not keep on paying her way because his money was also coming to an end. They came to a river and had to cross, and Peter paid for both. When they had crossed, it was evening, and again they had to look for a place where they might spend the night. They were in the prince's own country by this time, and they came to a forest close to his father's castle. Now the princess had to thank God that she had Peter Redhat; for there was no one else upon whom she could lean, and they found a tiny hut in the woods, where they stayed. 'What shall we do now? We have not a single shilling left!' She did not know what to suggest. 'Then there is nothing left for us to do,' said he, 'but wander about and beg; for, of course, we cannot steal.' So they agreed to meet at the hut once or twice a day. She made a little bag to hold meal, and grits and bread-crusts, and then they separated and each went his way for the day. Of course the prince went home to the castle, and brought back a large purse of gold in his pocket; but she wandered about and gathered such scraps as the people gave her, and in the evening they met in the hut. He asked her what she had taken in, and she showed him: a few pieces of bread, a little meal and grits, and a few bits of meat. 'Oh,' said he, 'you do not bring back much when you go a-begging! Just see what I have!' And he drew the big purse with all the money in it from his pocket, and said that it was what he had collected that day. 'But it would be best for us to take service somewhere.' Yes, she was willing, was her answer. 'Well, what work can you do?' he asked her. She would prefer to find a place as a seamstress. He did not know whether she could manage to get a place as a seamstress, but he did know where they would take her in to wash dishes. The fact was that the following day there was to be a great banquet at court, because the prince had returned and, to judge by what the people said, there would be a wedding. Then he made her believe that he had found employment at the castle as a wood-chopper, and so he would be able to have her out in the kitchen. 'But could you not arrange to bring me a pot of soup at dinner-time from what is left on the table?' 'Yes, but how am I to manage to carry it to you without attracting attention?' said she. 'You can tie a cord around your waist, under your apron, and hang the pot on it.' She thought she could manage this, and he told her which way to go in order to meet him. In the morning she went up to the castle and began her work. They gave her a pair of old kettles to scour, and she nearly scoured them to pieces; but the prince had told the cook in advance that a girl would put in an appearance at a certain time, and that he was to give her plenty to do, but she was not to be otherwise molested, and they were not to push, beat or handle her ungently. When the court had eaten dinner, the kitchen-maid asked permission to go to town for a while; and filling a little pot with soup and meat, she tied it under her apron, and started out to find Peter Redhat. She had to pass several doors at which guards were standing, who invited her to come in and dance with them; for on that day whoever wished to was allowed to enter the great hall and dance. But she excused herself, saying that she had no time to spare. At last she saw the door through which Peter had told her to pass, and there someone seized her, and dragged her into the hall where the banquet was in progress. The prince came up at once, and led her out to dance, and she had to yield, willy-nilly. But she did not recognize him, for he was wearing his princely clothes. The music began, and the prince danced with her so lustily that the dumplings and scraps fairly rolled all around the floor. Everyone wanted to know whose they were, because a number of others were also dancing. But she at once admitted that she was guilty. She had a sweetheart, she said, who was employed in the castle, and she had been on her way to him with a little pot of soup. Then the king asked her which way she had been told to take. Her sweetheart had told her she should pass through the door at the right-hand side of the castle gate. Then the king asked her again whether she would recognize the man again if she saw him. Indeed she would recognize him, for they had traveled many miles together. 'Then pick him out,' said the king, 'for here are all the people who are employed in the castle.' No, he was not among them, said she. But the king kept on talking to her, and meanwhile the prince stole out of the room, put on the old clothes he had worn while they had been together, went outside and walked past the window at which she stood. Then she pointed him out and said: 'That is my sweetheart walking there.' Thereupon he came in to them, and the king himself could hardly recognize him as he now appeared. He said to the princess: 'Do you not think it might have been better for you had you taken the king's son out of Denmark, of whom you made so much fun?' 'Ah, do not speak of it,' said she, 'I have trouble enough as it is.' 'Yes, but if he is still willing to take you, do you think he would be good enough for you?' 'It would be wonderful, no doubt, but that opportunity will never recur.' 'And yet it might,' said he, 'if you promise me that you will never again be ruled by arrogance and haughtiness.' Then he told his father and guests that this was the princess for whose sake he had traveled to England; and that he had played a trick upon her because she had been so arrogant when he had sought her out the first time, and had not been willing to so much as look at him. But now he was convinced that she had changed, and that the time had come when she should know who he really was, and be raised from her low estate. So they brought her garments, and he laid aside Peter Redhat's rags, and the wedding was held at once. Since he was the crown-prince of the land, he became king after his father's death and she, as was no more than right, became queen. But her parents always held a grudge against him because he had humiliated her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
900,The Crumb in the Beard,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales, (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 29, pp. 110-14.","There was once a king who had a daughter whose name was Stella. She was indescribably beautiful, but was so whimsical and hard to please that she drove her father to despair. There had been princes and kings who had sought her in marriage, but she had found defects in them all and would have none of them. She kept advancing in years, and her father began to despair of knowing to whom he should leave his crown. So he summoned his council, and discussed the matter, and was advised to give a great banquet, to which he should invite all the princes and kings of the surrounding countries, for, as they said, there cannot fail to be among so many, someone who should please the princess, who was to hide behind a door, so that she could examine them all as she pleased. When the kind heard this advice, he gave the order necessary for the banquet, and then called his daughter, and said, 'Listen, my little Stella, I have thought to do so and so, to see if I can find anyone to please you. Behold, my daughter, my hair is white, and I must have someone to leave my crown to.' Stella bowed her head, saying that she would take care to please him. Princes and kings then began to arrive at the court, and when it was time for the banquet, they all seated themselves at the table. You can imagine what sort of a banquet that was, and how the hall was adorned: Gold and silver shone from all their necks. In the four corners of the room were four fountains, which continually sent forth wine and the most exquisite perfumes. While the gentlemen were eating, Stella was behind a door, as has been said, and one of her maids, who was nearby, pointed out to her now this one, now that one. 'See, your majesty, what a handsome youth that is there.' 'Yes, but he has too large a nose.' 'And the one near your father?' 'He has eyes that look like saucers.' 'And that other at the head of the table?' 'He has too large a mouth. He looks as if he liked to eat.' In short, she found fault with all but one, who, she said, pleased her, but that he must be a very dirty fellow, for he had a crumb on his beard after eating. The youth heard her say this, and swore vengeance. You must know that he was the son of the King of the Green Hill, and the handsomest youth that could be seen. When the banquet was finished and the guests had departed, the king called Stella and asked, 'What news have you, my child?' She replied, that the only one who pleased her was the one with the crumb in his beard, but that she believed him to be a dirty fellow and did not want him. 'Take care, my daughter, you will repent it,' answered her father, and turned away. You must know that Stella's chamber looked into a courtyard into which opened the shop of a baker. One night, while she was preparing to retire, she heard, in the room where they sifted the meal, someone singing so well and with so much grace that it went to her heart. She ran to the window and listened until he finished. Then she began to ask her maid who the person with the beautiful voice could be, saying she would like to know. 'Leave it to me, your majesty,' said the maid. 'I will inform you tomorrow.' Stella could not wait for the next day; and, indeed, early the next day she learned that the one who sang was the sifter. That evening she heard him sing again, and stood by the window until everything became quiet. But that voice had so touched her heart that she told her maid that the next day she would try and see who had that fine voice. In the morning she placed herself by the window, and soon saw the youth come forth. She was enchanted his beauty as soon as she saw him, and fell desperately in love with him. Now you must know that this was none other than the prince who was at the banquet, and whom Stella had called 'dirty.' So he had disguised himself in such a way that she could not recognize him, and was meanwhile preparing his revenge. After he had seen her once or twice he began to take off his had and salute her. She smiled at him, and appeared at the window every moment. Then they began to exchange words, and in the evening he sang under her window. In short, they began to make love in good earnest, and when he learned that she was free, he began to talk about marrying her. She consented at once, but asked him what he had to live on. 'I haven't a penny,' said he. 'The little I earn is hardly enough to feed me.' Stella encourage him, saying she would give him all the money and things he wanted. To punish Stella for her pride, her father and the prince's father had an understanding, and pretended not to know about this love affair, and let her carry away from palace all she owned. During the day Stella did nothing but make a great bundle of clothes, of silver, and of money, and at night the disguised prince came under the balcony, and she threw it down to him. Things went on in this manner some time, and finally one evening he said to her, 'Listen. The time has come to elope.' Stella could not wait for the hour, and the next night she quietly tied a cord about her and let herself down from the window. The prince aided her to the ground, and then took her arm and hastened away. He led her a long ways to another city, where he turned down a street and opened the first door he met. They went down a long passage. Finally they reached a little door, which he opened, and they found themselves in a hole of a place which had only one window, high up. The furniture consisted of a straw bed, a bench, and a dirty table. You can imagine that when Stella saw herself in this place she thought she should die. When the prince saw her so amazed, he said, 'What is the matter? Does the house not please you? Do you not know that I am a poor man? Have you been deceived?' 'What have you done with all the things I gave you?' 'Oh, I had many debts, and I have paid them, and then I have done with the rest what seemed good to me. You must make up your mind to work and gain your bread as I have done. You must know that I am a porter of the king of this city, and I often go and work at the palace. Tomorrow, they have told me, the washing is to be done, so you must rise early and go with me there. I will set you to work with the other women, and when it is time for them to go home to dinner, you will say that you are not hungry, and while you are alone, steal two shirts, conceal them under your skirt, and carry them home to me.' Poor Stella wept bitterly, saying it was impossible for her to do that. But her husband replied, 'Do what I say, or I shall beat you.' The next morning her husband rose with the dawn, and made her get up, too. He had bought her a striped skirt and a pair of coarse shoes, which he made her put on, and then took her to the palace with him, conducted her to the laundry and left her, after he had introduced her as his wife, saying that she should remember what awaited her at home. Meanwhile poor Stella did as her husband had commanded, and stole the shirts. As she was leaving the palace, she met the king, who said, 'Pretty girl, you are the porter's wife, are you not?' Then he asked her what she had under her skirt, and shook her until the shirts dropped out, and the king cried, 'See there! The porter's wife is a thief. She has stolen some shirts.' Poor Stella ran home in tears, and her husband followed her when he had put on his disqu8ise again. When he reached home Stella told him all that had happened and begged him not to send her to the palace again. But he told her that the next day they were to bake, and she must go into the kitchen and help, and steal a piece of dough. Everything happened as on the previous day. Stella's theft was discovered, and when her husband returned he found her crying like a condemned soul, and swearing that she had rather be killed than go the palace again. He told her, however, that the king's son was to be married the next day, and that there was to be a great banquet, and she must go into the kitchen and wash the dishes. He added that when she had the chance she must steal a pot of broth and hide it about her so that no one should see it. She had to do as she was told, and had scarcely concealed the pot when the king's son came into the kitchen and told his wife she must come to the ball that had followed the banquet. She did not wish to go, but he took her by the arm and led her into the midst of the festival. Imagine how the poor woman felt at the ball, dressed as she was, and with the pot of broth! The king began to poke his sword at her in jest, until he hit the pot, and all the broth ran on the floor. Then all began to jeer her and laugh, until poor Stella fainted away from shame, and they had to go and get some vinegar to revive her. At last the king's mother came forward and said, 'Enough. You have revenged yourself sufficiently.' Then turning to Stella, 'Know that this is your mother, and that he has done this to correct your pride and to be avenged on you for calling him dirty.' Then she took her by the arm and led her to another room, where her maids dressed her as a queen. her father and mother then appeared and kissed and embraced her. Her husband begged her pardon for what he had done, and they made peace and always lived in harmony. From that day on she was never haughty, and had learned to her cost that pride is the greatest fault.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
900,The Haughty Princess,Ireland,"This story is also printed in: W. B. Yeats, Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry (London: Walter Scott, 1888), pp. 290-93. Justin McCarthy and others, eds., Irish Literature, vol. 5 (Philadelphia: John D. Morris and Company, 1904), pp. 1793-96. W. B. Yeats, Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry (London: Walter Scott, 1888), pp. 290-93. Justin McCarthy and others, eds., Irish Literature, vol. 5 (Philadelphia: John D. Morris and Company, 1904), pp. 1793-96.","Patrick Kennedy, The Fireside Stories of Ireland (Dublin: M'Glashan and Gill, 1870), pp. 114-16.","There was once a very worthy king, whose daughter was the greatest beauty that could be seen far or near, but she was as proud as Lucifer, and no king or prince would she agree to marry. Her father was tired out at last, and invited every king and prince, and duke, and earl that he knew or didn't know to come to his court to give her one trial more. They all came, and next day after breakfast they stood in a row in the lawn, and the princess walked along in the front of them to make her choice. One was fat, and says she, 'I won't have you, Beer-barrel!' One was tall and thin, and to him she said, 'I won't have you, Ramrod!' To a white-faced man she said, 'I won't have you, Pale Death!' and to a red-cheeked man she said, 'I won't have you, Cockscomb!' She stopped a little before the last of all, for he was a fine man in face and form. She wanted to find some defect in him, but he had nothing remarkable but a ring of brown curling hair under his chin. She admired him a little, and then carried it off with, 'I won't have you, Whiskers!' So all went away, and the king was so vexed he said to her, 'Now to punish your impedence, I'll give you to the first beggar man or singing sthronshuch [lazy thing] that calls.' And, as sure as the hearth-money, a fellow all over rags, and hair that came to his shoulders, and a bushy red beard all over his face, came next morning, and began to sing before the parlor window. When the song was over, the hall door was opened, the singer asked in, the priest brought, and the princess married to Beardy. She roared and she bawled, but her father didn't mind her. 'There,' says he to the bridegroom,' is five guineas for you. Take your wife out of my sight, and never let me lay eyes on you or her again.' Off he led her, and dismal enough she was. The only thing that gave her relief was the tones of her husband's voice and his genteel manners. 'Whose wood is this?' said she, as they were going through one. 'It belongs to the king you called Whiskers yesterday.' He gave her the same answer about meadows and cornfields, and at last a fine city. 'Ah, what a fool I was!' said she to herself. 'He was a fine man, and I might have him for a husband.' At last they were coming up to a poor cabin. 'Why are you bringing me here?' says the poor lady. 'This was my house,' said he, 'and now it's yours.' She began to cry, but she was tired and hungry, and went in with him. Ovoch! There was neither a table laid out, nor a fire burning, and she was obliged to help her husband to light it, and boil their dinner, and clean up the place after; and next day he made her put on a stuff gown and a cotton handkerchief. When she had her house redded up, and no business to keep her employed, he brought home sallies [willows], peeled them, and showed her how to make baskets. But the hard twigs bruised her delicate fingers, and she began to cry. Well, then he asked her to mend their clothes, but the needle drew blood from her fingers, and she cried again. He couldn't bear to see her tears, so he bought a creel of earthenware, and sent her to the market to sell them. This was the hardest trial of all, but she looked so handsome and sorrowful, and had such a nice air about her, that all her pans, and jugs, and plates, and dishes were gone before noon, and the only mark of her old pride she showed was a slap she gave a buckeen across the face when he axed her to go in an' take share of a quart. Well, her husband was so glad, he sent her with another creel the next day; but faith! her luck was after deserting her. A drunken huntsman came up riding, and his beast got in among her ware, and made brishe [broken pieces] of every mother's son of 'em. She went home cryin', and her husband wasn't at all pleased. 'I see,' said he, 'you're not fit for business. Come along, I'll get you a kitchen maid's place in the palace. I know the cook.' So the poor thing was obliged to stifle her pride once more. She was kept very busy, and the footman and the butler would be very impudent about looking for a kiss, but she let a screech out of her the first attempt was made, and the cook gave the fellow such a lambasting with the besom that he made no second offer. She went home to her husband every night, and she carried broken victuals wrapped in papers in her side pockets. A week after she got service there was great bustle in the kitchen. The king was going to be married, but no one knew who the bride was to be. Well, in the evening the cook filled the princess's pockets with cold meat and puddings, and, says she, 'Before you go, let us have a look at the great doings in the big parlor.' So they came near the door to get a peep, and who should come out but the king himself, as handsome as you please, and no other but King Whiskers himself. 'Your handsome helper must pay for her peeping,' said he to the cook, 'and dance a jig with me.' Whether she would or no, he held her hand and brought her into the parlor. The fiddlers struck up, and away went him with her. But they hadn't danced two steps when the meat and the puddens flew out of her pockets. Everyone roared out, and she flew to the door, crying piteously. But she was soon caught by the king, and taken into the back parlor. 'Don't you know me, my darling?' said he. 'I'm both King Whiskers, your husband the ballad singer, and the drunken huntsman. Your father knew me well enough when he gave you to me, and all was to drive your pride out of you.' Well, she didn't know how she was with fright, and shame, and joy. Love was uppermost anyhow, for she laid her head on her husband's breast and cried like a child. The maids-of-honor soon had her away and dressed her as fine as hands and pins could do it; and there were her mother and father, too; and while the company were wondering what end of the handsome girl and the king, he and his queen, who they didn't know in her fine clothes, and the other king and queen, came in, and such rejoicings and fine doings as there was, none of us will ever see, any way. This story is also printed in:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
900,The Hunchback,Spain,NA,"Fernan Cabellero [Cecilia Francisca J. Arrom de Ayala], The Bird of Truth and Other Fairy Tales, translated by J. H. Ingram (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein and Company, [1883]). pp. 141-46.","Once upon a time there was a certain king who had an only daughter, whom he greatly wished to see married; but the girl had been completely spoilt, and was very self-willed: she would not marry. If her father had wished her to keep single, then she would have determined to marry at once. One day, as she came out of church, she met a beggar, very old, ugly, hunchbacked, and so persevering, that she was annoyed and would not give him any alms. The poor man, in order to revenge himself, put a flea on her; the princess, who had never seen one of these nasty little insects before, took it to the palace with her, and put it into a small bottle; she fed it with drops of milk, so that it became too fat for its prison. Then the princess ordered it to be killed, dried its skin, and out of it had a small drum made and put into a bracelet. One day when her father came in to urge her to marry, she replied that she would only marry the man who could tell what the little drum in her bracelet was made of. 'Very well,' said her father, 'let it be so; but on my faith as a king, and an old Christian, I swear that you shall marry the person who ascertains it, let him be who he may.' Proclamation was accordingly made that the princess was ready to marry whoever could tell what the drum in her bracelet was made of; and from all the four parts of the world came kings, princes, dukes, counts, and gentlemen of good estate, and all to see the flea's skin, though not one could say what it was. The most extraordinary thing about it was, that whenever it was struck, the sound the little drum gave forth was similar to that uttered by beggars when they solicit alms. Then the king ordered that everybody, rich or poor, who came should be allowed to see the drum in order to try and ascertain what it was made of. Among the princes who came there happened to be one who was very handsome, and for whom the princess took a desperate liking; so, when she was in her balcony and saw him passing, she cried out: A flea's skin My bracelet is in. The prince did not hear her voice; but she was heard by the horrible old beggar to whom she had denied alms. The old fellow at once comprehended what the words she said signified, for he was very cunning; so he at once entered the palace and said that he had come to see what was in the bracelet of the king's daughter. Scarcely had he seen it, than he said: The bracelet is in! There was no escape from it: the princess would have objected, but she was given by her father to the dirty old beggar, for he had guessed the enigma she herself had insisted upon. 'Go away at once with your husband,' said the king, 'and I do not wish you ever again to remember that you have a father.' Weeping and ashamed, the princess had to go off with the hunchback, and they traveled farther and farther, until they came to a river through which they had to wade. 'Take me on your shoulders and carry me across the river, because that is my wife's duty,' said the old man to her. The princess did what her husband commanded; but when they were in the middle of the stream, she began shaking herself in order to shake him off, and he began falling off in fragments, first his head, then his arms and legs, and at last, all but his hump, which remained stuck fast on the princess's shoulders. When she had crossed the river, she inquired the way; and whenever she spoke the hump on her back mimicked her voice and repeated what she said, as if, instead of a hump on her back, she had an echoing stone there. Some of the folks she met laughed, and others were angry, thinking that she was mocking them, so that at last there was nothing to be done but to pretend to be mute. In this state she went on her way begging, until she arrived at a city that belonged to the prince for whom she had taken so great a liking. She went to the palace to ask them to employ her, and she was taken on as a maidservant. The prince saw her, and was so struck with her beauty that he said: 'That girl has such a beautiful face that if she were not a hunchback and mute, I would marry her.' The prince's marriage with a foreign princess was much talked about, so the pain and jealousy of the hunchback, who became every day more enamoured of the heir to the kingdom, may be well imagined. At last the matrimonial contract was arranged with another princess, who was as upright as a dart and as talkative as a magpie. The prince went forth with a grand retinue to bring her home, and great preparations were made in the palace for the wedding. The supposed mute had to fry some cakes; and as she was frying them she said to her hump: 'Dear little hump, would you like a nice little cake?' The hump, which was that of an old man very fond of sweet things, replied that it would like it. 'Then look into my pocket,' said she. The hump made a leap off her back to her pocket, when the princess, who was already prepared with the tongs in her hand, seized the hump and popped it into the boiling oil, where it quickly melted into a lump of lard. As soon as the princess found herself freed from the hump, she went to her room, and dressed, and adorned herself with a robe of green and gold. When the prince arrived he was delighted to see the mute girl without her hump, and so well and magnificently attired. The bride, who noticed this, said: Behold the mute in her new array Upon her mistress's bridal day! To which the princess haughtily replied: And then behold the shamelessness Of her who'd be master before she's mistress. As soon as the prince found that the mute could speak, and that there was no trace left of her hump, he gave up the other princess and married her, and they had many children, and lived happily ever afterwards.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,B' Rabby an' B' Tar-Baby,Bahamas,NA,"Charles L. Edwards, Bahama Songs and Stories: A Contribution to Folk-Lore (Boston and New York: Published for the American Folk-Lore Society by Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1895), no. 12pp. 73-75.","Once it vwas a time, a very good time, De monkey chewed tobacco, an' 'e spit white lime. So dis day B' Rabby, B' Bouki, B' Tiger, B' Lizard, B' Helephant, B' Goat, B' Sheep, B' Rat, B'Cricket, all o' de creatures, all kind; -- so now dey say, 'B' Rabby, you goin' help dig vwell?' B' Rabby say, 'No!' Dey say, 'Vw'en you vwan' vwater, how you goin' manage?' 'E say, 'Get it an' drink it.' Dey say, 'B' Rabby, you goin' help cut fiel'?' Dey say, 'Vw'en you 'r' hungry, how you goin' manage?' 'Get it an' eat it.' So all on 'em gone to work. Dey vwen'; dey dig vwell first. Nex' dey cut fiel'. Now dis day B' Rabby come. Dey leave B' Lizard home to min' de vwell. So now B' Rabby say, 'B' Lizard, you vwant to see who can make de mostest noise in de trash?' B' Lizard say, 'Yes!' B' Rabby say, 'You go in dat big heap o' trash dere an' I go in dat over dere.' (B' Rabby did vwant to get his vwater now!) B' Lizard gone in de trash; 'e kick up. Vw'ile 'e vwas makin' noise in de trash, B' Rabby dip 'e bucket full o' vwater. 'E gone! So now vw'en B' Helephant come, an' hall de hother animals come out de fiel', B' Helephant say, 'B' Lizard, you goin' let B' Rabby come here today an' take dat vwater?' B' Lizard say, 'I could n't help it!' 'e say. ''E tell me to go in de trash to see who could make de mostest noise.' Now de nex' day dey leave B' Bouki home to min' de vwell. Now B' Rabby come. 'E say, 'B' Bouki, you vwan' to see who can run de fastes'?' B' Bouki say, 'Yes.' 'E say, 'You go dat side, an' le' me go dis side.' Good! B' Bouki break off; 'e gone a runnin'. Soon as B' Bouki git out o' sight B' Rabby dip 'e bucket; 'e gone. So now vw'en B' Helephan' an' 'im come dey say, 'B' Bouki, you let B' Rabby come 'ere again today and take our vwater?' 'E say, ''E tell me who could run de fastes', an' soon 's I git a little vays 'e take de vwater an' gone. So B' Helephan' say, 'I know how to ketch him!' Dey gone; hall on 'em in de pine yard. Dey make one big tarbaby. Dey stick 'im up to de vwell. B' Rabby come. 'E say, 'Hun! dey leave my dear home to min' de vwell today.' B' Rabby say, 'Come, my dear, le' me kiss you!' Soon as 'e kiss 'er 'e lip stick fas'. B' Rabby say, 'Min' you better le' go;' 'e say. 'You see dis biggy, biggy han' here;' 'e say, ''f I slap you wid dat I kill you.' Now vw'en B' Rabby fire, so, 'e han' stick. B' Rabby say, 'Min' you better le' go me;' 'e say. 'You see dis biggy, biggy han' here; 'f I slap you wid dat I kill you.' Soon as B' Rabby slap wid de hudder han', so, 'e stick. B' Rabby say, 'You see dis biggy, biggy foot here. My pa say, 'f I kick anybody wid my biggy, biggy foot I kill 'em.' Soon as 'e fire his foot, so, it stick. B' Rabby say, 'Min' you better le' go me.' Good! soon as 'e fire his foot, so, it stick. Now B' Rabby jus' vwas hangin'; hangin' on de Tar-baby. B' Bouki come runnin' out firs'. 'E say, 'Ha! vwe got 'im to day! vwe got 'im to-day!' 'E gone back to de fiel'; 'e tell B' Helephan'; 'e say, 'Ha! B' Helephan', vwe got 'im today!' Vw'en all on 'em gone out now dey ketch B' Rabby. Now dey did vwan' to kill B' Rabby; dey did n' know whey to t'row 'im. B' Rabby say, ''f you t'row me in de sea' (you know 'f dey had t'row B'Rabby in de sea, dey 'd a kill 'im), -- B' Rabby say, ''f you t'row me in de sea you won' hurt me a bit.' B' Rabby say, ''f you t'row me in de fine grass, you kill me an' all my family.' Dey take B' Rabby. Dey t'row 'im in de fine grass. B' Rabby jump up; 'e put off a runnin'. So now B' Rabby say, 'Hey! ketch me 'f you could.' All on 'em gone now. Now dis day dey vwas all sittin' down heatin'. Dey had one big house; de house vwas full o' hall kin' o' hanimals. B' Rabby gone; 'e git hup on top de house; 'e make one big hole in de roof o' de house. B' Rabby sing hout, 'Now, John Fire, go hout!' B' Rabby let go a barrel o' mud; let it run right down inside de house. Vw'en 'e let go de barrel o' mud, so, every one on 'em take to de bush, right vwil'; gone right hover in de bush. B' Rabby make all on 'em vwent vwil', till dis day you see hall de hanimals vwil'. E bo ban, my story 's en', If you doan' believe my story 's true, Hax my captain an my crew, Vw'en I die bury me in a pot o' candle grease.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,"Buh Wolf, Buh Rabbit, an de Tar-Baby",USA,NA,"Charles C. Jones, Negro Myths from the Georgia Coast: Told in the Vernacular (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1888), no. 4, pp. 7-11.","Buh Wolf and Buh Kabbit, dem bin lib nabur. De dry drout come. Ebry ting stew up. Water scace. Buh Wolf dig one spring fuh him fuh git water. Buh Rabbit, him too lazy an too scheemy fuh wuk fuh isself. Eh pen pon lib off tarruh people. Ebry day, wen Buh Wolf yent duh watch um, eh slip to Buh Wolf spring, an eh full him calabash long water an cah um to eh house fuh cook long and fuh drink. Buh Wolf see Buh Rabbit track, but eh couldnt ketch um duh tief de water. One day eh meet Buh Rabbit in de big road, an eh ax um how eh mek out fur water. Buh Rabbit say him no casion fuh hunt water: him lib off de jew on de grass. Buh Wolf quire: 'Enty you blan tek water outer me spring?' Buh Rabbit say: 'Me yent.' Buh Wolf say: 'You yis, enty me see you track?' Buh Rabbit mek answer: 'Yent me gone to you spring. Must be some edder rabbit. Me nebber bin nigh you spring. Me dunno way you spring day.' Buh Wolf no question um no mo: but eh know say eh bin Buh Rabbit fuh true, an eh fix plan fuh ketch um. De same ebenin eh mek Tar-Baby, an eh gone an set um right in de middle er de trail wuh lead to de spring, an dist in front er de spring. Soon a mornin Buh Rabbit rise an tun in fuh cook eh bittle. Eh pot biggin fuh bun. Buh Rabbit say: 'Hey! me pot duh bun. Lemme slip to Buh Wolf spring an git some water fuh cool um.' So eh tek eh calabash an hop off fuh de spring. Wen eh ketch de spring, eh see de Tar-Baby duh tan dist een front er de spring. Eh stonish. Eh stop. Eh come close. Eh look at um. Eh wait fur um fuh mobe. De Tar-Baby yent notice um. Eh yent wink eh yeye. Eh yent say nuttne. Eh yent mobe. Buh Rabbit, him say: 'Hey titter, enty you guine tan one side an lemme git some water?' De Tar-Baby no answer. Den Buh Rabbit say: 'Leely gal, mobe, me tell you, so me kin dip some water outer de spring long me calabash.' De Tar-Baby wunt mobe. Buh Rabbit say: 'Enty you know me pot duh bun? Enty you know me hurry? Enty you yeddy me tell you fuh mobe? You see dis han? Ef you dont go long and lemme git some water, me guine slap you ober.' De Tar-Baby stan day. Bull Rabbit haul off an slap um side de head. Eh han fastne. Buh Rabbit try fuh pull eh hand back, an eh say: 'Wuh you hole me han fuh? Lemme go. Ef you dont loose me, me guine box de life outer you wid dis tarruh han.' De Tar-Baby yent crack eh teet. Buh Rabbit hit um, bim, wid eh tarruh han. Dat han fastne too same luk tudder. Buh Rabbit say: 'Wuh you up teh? Tun me loose. Ef you dont leggo me right off, me guine knee you.' De Tar-Baby hole um fas. Buh Rabbit skade an bex too. Eh faid Buh Wolf come ketch um. Wen eh fine eh cant loosne eh han, eh kick de Tar-Baby wid eh knee. Eh knee fastne. Yuh de big trouble now. Buh Rabbit skade den wus den nebber. Eh try fuh skade de Tar-Baby. Eh say: 'Leely gal, you better mine who you duh fool long. Me tell you, fuh de las time, tun me loose. Ef you dont loosne me han an me knee right off, me guine bus you wide open wid dis head.' De Tar-Baby hole um fas. Eh yent say one wud. Den Buh Rabbit butt de Tar-Baby een eh face. Eh head fastne same fashion luk eh han an eh knee. Yuh de ting now. Po Buh Rabbit done fuh. Eh fastne all side. Eh cant pull loose. Eh gib up. Eh bague. Eh cry. Eh holler. Buh Wolf yeddy um. Eh run day. Eh hail Buh Rabbit : 'Hey, Budder! wuh de trouble? Enty you tell me you no blan wisit me spring fuh git water? Who calabash dis? Wuh you duh do yuh anyhow?' Buh Rabbit so condemn eh yent hab one wud fuh talk. Buh Wolf, him say: 'Nummine, I done ketch you dis day. I guine lick you now.' Buh Rabbit bague. Eh bague. Eh prommus nebber fuh trouble Buh Wolf spring no mo. Buh Wolf laugh at um. Den eh tek an loose Buh Rabbit from de Tar-Baby, an eh tie um teh one spakleberry bush, an eh git switch an eh lick um tel eh tired. All de time Buh Rab bit bin a bague an a holler. Buh Wolf yent duh listne ter um, but eh keep on duh pit de lick ter um. At las Buh Rabbit tell Buh Wolf: 'Dont lick me no mo. Kill me one time. Mek fire an bun me up. Knock me brains out gin de tree.' Buh Wolf mek answer: 'Ef I bun you up, ef I knock you brains out, you guine dead too quick. Me guine trow you in de brier patch, so de brier kin cratch you life out.' Buh Rabbit say: 'Do Buh Wolf, bun me: broke me neck, but dont trow me in de brier patch. Lemme dead one time. Dont tarrify me no mo.' Buh Wolf yent bin know wuh Buh Rabbit up teh. Eh tink eh bin guine tare Buh Rabbit hide off. So, wuh eh do? Eh loose Buh Rabbit from de spakleberry bush, an eh tek um by de hine leg, and eh swing um roun, an eh trow um way in de tick brier patch fuh tare eh hide an cratch eh yeye out. De minnit Buh Rabbit drap in de brier patch, eh cock up eh tail, eh jump, an eh holler back to Buh Wolf: 'Good bye, Budder! Dis de place me mammy fotch me up, -- dis de place me mammy fotch me up.' An eh gone befo Buh Wolf kin ketch um. Buh Rabbit too scheemy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,Coyote and Pitch,Native American (Shasta),NA,"'Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon' (Collected by Livingston Farrans; edited by Leo J. Frachtenberg), Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 28, no. 59 (July - September, 1915), p. 218.","One day Coyote heard that Pitch, the bad man, was coming. He went out to meet him, and said, 'I can whip you, no matter who you are.' Pitch answered, 'I can't fight with my hands.' Thereupon Coyote struck him with his fist; but the fist stuck fast. Then Coyote said, 'If I strike you with my left hand, I'll kill you.' 'Go ahead, do it!' answered Pitch. Coyote hit him, and his left hand stuck fast. 'I'll kick you,' said Coyote; and Pitch replied, 'All right, kick!' Coyote kicked, and his foot stuck fast. 'If I kick you with my left foot,' threatened Coyote, 'I'll surely kill you.' 'Do it!' mocked Pitch. Coyote kicked again, and his left foot stuck fast. 'I will lash you with my tail!' shouted Coyote, whereupon his tail stuck fast. Then Coyote became angry, and threatened to kill Pitch with his ear; but his ear, too, stuck fast. Finally Coyote hit him with his head. The same thing happened. His head stuck fast. Now Coyote was stuck to Pitch, and could not pry himself loose. After a while his friend Spider came there, and saw Coyote's predicament. 'How can I help you?' inquired he. 'Cut my hand away, but do not cut it,' said Coyote. 'It will be easier to burn it away,' suggested Spider. 'No!' said Coyote, 'scrape it away!' Spider did so, and after a while Coyote became free.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,How Mr. Rabbit Was Too Sharp for Mr. Fox,"USA, Joel Chandler Harris",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings: The Folk-Lore of the Old Plantation (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1881), no. 4, pp. 29-31. Source (Internet Archive): Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings: The Folk-Lore of the Old Plantation (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1881), no. 4, pp. 29-31.","'Uncle Remus,' said the little boy one evening, 'when he had found the old man with little or nothing to do, 'did the fox kill and eat the rabbit when he caught him with the Tar-Baby?' 'Law, honey, ain't I tell you 'bout dat?' replied the old darkey, chuckling slyly. 'I 'clar ter grashus I ought er tole you dat, but ole man Nod wuz ridin' on my eyeleds 'twel a leetle mo'n I'd a dis'member'd my own name, en den on to dat here come yo' mammy hollerin' after you. Wat I tell you w'en I fus' begin? I tole you Brer Rabbit wuz a monstus soon beas'; leas'ways dat's w'at I laid out fer ter tell you. Well, den, honey, don't you go en make no udder kalkalashuns, kaze in dem days Brer Rabbit en his fambly wuz at de head er de gang w'en enny racket wuz on han', en dar dey stayed. 'Fo' you begins fer ter wipe yo' eyes 'bout Brer Rabbit, you wait en see whar'bouts Brer Rabbit gwineter fetch up at. But dat's needer yer ner dar.' Wen Brer Fox fine Brer Rabbit mixt up wid de Tar-Baby, he feel mighty good, en he roll on de groun' en laff. Bimeby he up'n say, sezee: 'Well, I speck I got you dis time, Brer Rabbit,' sezee; 'maybe I ain't, but I speck I is. 'You been runnin' roun' here sassin' atter me a mighty long time, but I speck you done come ter de een' er de row. You bin cuttin' up yo' capers en bouncin' 'roun' in dis naberhood ontwel you come ter b'leeve yo'se'f de boss er de whole gang. En den youer allers some'rs whar you got no bizness,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 'Who ax you fer ter come en strike up a 'quaintence wid dish yer Tar-Baby? En who stuck you up dar whar you iz? Nobody in de roun' worril. You des tuck en jam yo'se'f on dat Tar-Baby widout waitin' fer enny invite,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'en dar you is, en dar you'll stay twel I fixes up a bresh-pile and fires her up, kaze I'm gwineter bobbycue you dis day, sho,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. Den Brer Rabbit talk mighty 'umble. 'I don't keer w'at you do wid me, Brer Fox,' sezee, 'so you don't fling me in dat brier-patch. Roas' me, Brer Fox,' sezee, 'but don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. 'Hit's so much trouble fer ter kindle a fier,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'dat I speck I'll hatter hang you,' sezee. 'Hang me des ez high as you please, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'but do fer de Lord's sake don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. 'I ain't got no string,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'en now I speck I'll hatter drown you,' sezee. 'Drown me des ez deep ez you please, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'but do don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. 'Dey ain't no water nigh,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'en now I speck I'll hatter skin you,' sezee. 'Skin me, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'snatch out my eyeballs, tar out my years by de roots, en cut off my legs,' sezee, 'but do please, Brer Fox, don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. Co'se Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Rabbit bad ez he kin, so he cotch 'im by de behime legs en slung 'im right in de middle er de brier-patch. Dar wuz a considerbul flutter whar Brer Rabbit struck de bushes, en Brer Fox sorter hang 'roun' fer ter see w'at wuz gwineter happen. Bimeby he hear somebody call 'im, en way up de hill he see Brer Rabbit settin' cross-legged on a chinkapin log koamin' de pitch outen his har wid a chip. Den Brer Fox know dat he bin swop off mighty bad. Brer Rabbit wuz bleedzed fer ter fling back some er his sass, en he holler out: 'Bred en bawn in a brier-patch, Brer Fox -- bred en bawn in a brier-patch!' en wid dat he skip out des ez lively ez a cricket in de embers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,How Prince Five-Weapons Fought the Ogre Hairy-Grip,"India, Jataka Tales",NA,"The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, vol. 1, translated by Robert Chalmers (Cambridge: At the University Press, 1895), no. 55, pp. 137-39.","Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, it was as his queen's child that the Bodhisatta came to life once more. On the day when he was to be named, the parents enquired as to their child's destiny from eight hundred brahmins, to whom they gave their hearts' desire in all pleasures of sense. Marking the promise which he showed of a glorious destiny, these clever soothsaying brahmins foretold that, coming to the throne at the king's death, the child should be a mighty king endowed with every virtue; famed and renowned for his exploits with five weapons, he should stand peerless in all Jambudipa. And because of this prophecy of the brahmins, the parents named their son Prince Five-weapons. Now, when the prince was come to years of discretion, and was sixteen years old, the king bade him go away and study. 'With whom, sire, am I to study?' asked the prince. 'With the world-famed teacher in the town of Takkasila in the Gandhara country. Here is his fee,' said the king, handing his son a thousand pieces. So the prince went to Takkasila and was taught there. When he was leaving, his master gave him a set of five weapons, armed with which, after bidding adieu to his old master, the prince set out from Takkasila for Benares. On his way he came to a forest haunted by an ogre named Hairy-Grip; and, at the entrance to the forest, men who met him tried to stop him, saying: 'Young brahmin, do not go through that forest; it is the haunt of the ogre Hairy-Grip, and he kills every one he meets.' But, bold as a lion, the self-reliant Bodhisatta pressed on, till in the heart of the forest he came on the ogre. The monster made himself appear in stature as tall as a palm-tree, with a head as big as an arbor and huge eyes like bowls, with two tusks like turnips and the beak of a hawk; his belly was blotched with purple; and the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet were blue-black! 'Whither away?' cried the monster. 'Halt! you are my prey.' 'Ogre,' answered the Bodhisatta, 'I knew what I was doing when entering this forest. You will be ill-advised to come near me. For with a poisoned arrow I will slay you where you stand.' And with this defiance, he fitted to his bow an arrow dipped in deadliest poison and shot it at the ogre. But it only stuck on to the monster's shaggy coat. Then he shot another and another, till fifty were spent, all of which merely stuck on to the ogre's shaggy coat. Hereon the ogre, shaking the arrows off so that they fell at his feet, came at the Bodhisatta; and the latter, again shouting defiance, drew his sword and struck at the ogre. But, like the arrows, his sword, which was thirty-three inches long, merely stuck fast in the shaggy hair. Next the Bodhisatta hurled his spear, and that stuck fast also. Seeing this, he smote the ogre with his club; but, like his other weapons, that too stuck fast. And thereupon the Bodhisatta shouted, 'Ogre, you never heard yet of me, Prince Five-Weapons. When I ventured into this forest, I put my trust not in my bow and other weapons, but in myself! Now will 1 strike you a blow which shall crush you into dust.' So saying, the Bodhisatta smote the ogre with his right hand; but the hand stuck fast upon the hair. Then, in turn, with his left hand and with his right and left feet, he struck at the monster, but hand and feet alike clave to the hide. Again shouting 'I will crush you into dust!' he butted the ogre with his head, and that too stuck fast. Yet even when thus caught and snared in fivefold wise, the Bodhisatta, as he hung upon the ogre, was still fearless, still undaunted. And the monster thought to himself, 'This is a very lion among men, a hero without a peer, and no mere man. Though he is caught in the clutches of an ogre like me, yet not so much as a tremor will he exhibit. Never, since I first took to slaying travelers upon this road, have I seen a man to equal him. How comes it that he is not frightened?' Not daring to devour the Bodhisatta offhand, he said, 'How is it, young brahmin, that you have no fear of death?' 'Why should?' answered the Bodhisatta. 'Each life must surely have its destined death. Moreover, within my body is a sword of adamant, which you will never digest, if you eat me. It will chop your inwards into mincemeat, and my death will involve yours too. Therefore it is that I have no fear.' (By this, it is said, the Bodhisatta meant the Sword of Knowledge, which was within him.) Hereon, the ogre fell a-thinking. 'This young brahmin is speaking the truth and nothing but the truth,' thought he. 'Not a morsel so big as a pea could I digest of such a hero. I'll let him go.' And so, in fear of his life, he let the Bodhisatta go free, saying, 'Young brahmin, you are a lion among men; I will not eat you. Go forth from my hand, even as the moon from the jaws of Rahu, and return to gladden the hearts of your kinsfolk, your friends, and your country.' 'As for myself, ogre,' answered the Bodhisatta,' I will go. As for you, it was your sins in bygone days that caused you to be reborn a ravening, murderous, flesh-eating ogre; and, if you continue in sin in this existence, you will go on from darkness to darkness. But, having seen me, you will be unable thenceforth to sin any more. Know that to destroy life is to ensure re-birth either in hell or as a brute or as a ghost or among the fallen spirits. Or, if the re-birth be into the world of men, then such sin cuts short the days of a man's life.' In this and other ways the Bodhisatta showed the evil consequences of the five bad courses, and the blessing that comes of the five good courses; and so wrought in divers ways upon that ogre's fears that by his teaching he converted the monster, imbuing him with self-denial and establishing him in the Five Commandments. Then making the ogre the fairy of that forest, with a right to levy dues, and charging him to remain stedfast, the Bodhisatta went his way, making known the change in the ogre's mood as he issued from the forest. And in the end he came, armed with the five weapons, to the city of Benares, and presented himself before his parents. In later days, when king, he was a righteous ruler; and after a life spent in charity and other good works he passed away to fare there after according to his deserts. This lesson ended, the Master, as Buddha, recited this stanza: When no attachment hampers heart or mind, When righteousness is practised peace to win, He who so walks, shall gain the victory And all the Fetters utterly destroy. When he had thus led his teaching up to Arahatship as its crowning point, the Master went on to preach the Four Truths, at the close whereof that Brother won Arahatship. Also, the Master shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth by saying, 'Angulimala was the ogre of those days, and I myself Prince Five-Weapons.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,King Robin,Spain/Portugal,NA,"Charles Sellers, Tales from the Lands of Nuts and Grapes: Spanish and Portuguese Folklore (London: Field and Tuer; Simpkin, Marshall and Company, 1888), pp. 112-16.","There was once a little boy called Sigli, who, I am sorry to say, took great pleasure in catching and killing little birds. His father was a notorious robber, so it was not surprising that Sigli gave way to acts of cruelty. His mother died when he was little more than a year old, and he did not know any other relation. In the north of Portugal, bands of robbers used to frequent the roads, and some of them lived in strong castles, and had a large retinue of followers. In time of war these robber-chiefs would side with the king's party, because after the war was over they received large grants of land for the assistance they had rendered the sovereign. Sometimes when the neighboring kings of Spain invaded Portugal, these robbers proved of great advantage in repelling the invaders; but in following up their victories they would despoil all the churches in the enemy's country of the gold and silver idols, which the priests had caused to be made in order to get the ignorant peasantry to make offerings of money, corn, and oil, in exchange for which the priests, in the name of the idols, offered all those who gave, pardon of their sins. Now, Sigli's father had on many occasions robbed gold and silver idols, and had murdered a few brethren of the Holy Inquisition, who, in their turn, were well known for the wicked deeds they had committed, such as burning Christian men and women who did not, and could not, profess the popish faith. But in course of time the Jesuits, for so they were called, made common cause against these robbers, and either put them to death, or obliged them to leave off robbing churches and take to cheating the peasantry. Sigli, as I said before, was a very cruel boy, and he was the terror of all the birds and beasts. He would lay traps for them, and when he had caught them he would take pleasure in tormenting them, which clearly proved that he was not a Christian, nor possessed of any refinement. But he took more pleasure in catching robin-redbreasts than in anything else, and for this purpose he used bird-lime. He had caught and killed so many that at last King Robin of Birdland issued invitations to all his feathered subjects and to the beasts of the field, asking them to a meeting at which they might discuss the best means of putting Sigli to death, or punishing him in some other way, for the cruelty of which he was guilty towards them. Among the many who accepted the invitation was an old fox, the first of the Reynards, and when it came to his turn to speak, he said that as Sigli was so fond of catching redbreasts with bird-lime, he (Mr. Reynard) would propose catching Sigli in the same manner; and when caught they might discuss how they should punish him, either by pecking and biting him, or by getting the wolves to eat him. In order to carry out this idea, he suggested that the monkeys should be asked to prepare the bird-lime, which they might use with safety by oiling their hands, and then gradually make a man of bird-lime close to the robber chief's castle. Sigli would probably take it for some poor man, and hit it, and then he would not be able to get away. This idea was accepted by all in general, and by Mrs. Queen Bee in particular, who owed Sigli and his father a grudge for destroying her hive; and the monkeys cheerfully set to work, while King Robin watched the putting together of the figure, and was very useful in giving it most of the artistic merit it possessed when finished. The making took one whole night, and next morning, almost opposite the castle, stood the bird-lime figure about the size of a man. Sigli, seeing it from his dressing-room window, and taking it for a beggar, was so enraged that he ran out without his shoes and stockings, and, without waiting to look at the man, he struck at him with his right hand so that it stuck firmly to the figure. 'Let go,' he cried, 'or I will kick you!' And as the figure did not let go he kicked it, so that his foot was glued. 'Let go my foot,' he cried out, 'or I will kick you with the other;' and, doing so, both his legs were glued to it. Then he knocked up against the figure, and the more he did so the more firmly he was glued. Then his father, hearing his cries, rushed out, and said: 'Oh, you bad man! I will squeeze you to death for hurting my dear Sigli!' No sooner said than done, and the robber chief was glued on to the bird-lime figure. The screams of the two attracted the attention of the servants, who, seeing their robber master, as they thought, murdering his little boy, ran away and never came back again. King Robin was now master of the situation, and he directed ten thousand bees under General Bumble, and another ten thousand wasps under Colonel Hornet, to fall on the robber and cruel Sigli and sting them to death. But this was hardly necessary, as the wriggling of their bodies so fixed them to the figure that they died of suffocation. Then King Robin ordered the wolves to dig a large grave, into which the monkeys rolled Sigli, his father, and the bird-lime figure; and after covering it up, they all took charge of the castle, and lived there for many years undisturbed, acknowledging King Robin as their king; and if the Jesuits did not turn them out, I am certain they are still there.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,Playing Godfather: Tar-Baby: Mock Plea,USA,"Bacon's and Parsons' source: 'Written by Nellie Virginia Hudgins.' Bacon and Parsons mistake this tale's first episode with a type 15 folktale ('Playing Godfather'). Actually it more closely resembles a type 1563 tale, in which a farm laborer tricks his master into approving a liaison between his (the master's) wife and the laborer.","A. M. Bacon and E. C. Parsons, 'Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, volume 35 (1922), pp. 259-60.","Mr. Fox would say, 'Who is that?' The rabbit would say, 'Your wife called me, I don't know what she wants.' Mr. Fox would say, 'Go see what she wants.' The rabbit would go to the house and say, 'Mrs. Fox, Mr. Fox says give me a plate of pease, please.' 'All right!' said Mrs. Fox, 'Tell him there are only two more left.' When Mr. Rabbit began work, he would run to the end of the row and back, and answer again. Mr. Fox would say, 'Who is that?' The rabbit would say, 'Your wife called me again. I don't know what she wants.' 'Go and see what she wants,' said the fox. Then Mr. Rabbit would go, and say to Mrs. Fox, 'Mr. Fox says give me another plate of pease.' 'Please tell him there's only one more left.' Mr. Rabbit ate the pease and went back the third time. At noon Mr. Fox said, 'Come, Mr. Rabbit! we'll go and get our dinner.' The rabbit said, 'Oh, no, Mr. Fox! I don't care for any dinner.' 'I don't want anybody to work for me without eating,' said Mr. Fox. Mr. Rabbit went, but would not keep up with Mr. Fox. Mrs. Fox met Mr. Fox in the yard, and asked where he was going, and also told him there was no dinner because he had sent Mr. Rabbit to eat all the pease. Mr. Fox said, 'Never mind, never mind! I'll catch you. Go in the dairy and bring me that butter.' The rabbit went in and stuck his front paw in the butter, but it stuck fast. He said, 'Never mind, never mind! I have another paw here.' He stuck it in, and it stuck fast. 'Never mind, never mind! I still have another one here.' He stuck that one in, and it stuck fast. 'Never mind, never mind! got one more here,' and that stuck fast. 'Never mind, never mind! I got a mouth here.' He put his mouth in, and it stuck fast. Then Mr. Fox came upon him, and said, 'Now I have you! I am going to kill you; I am going to throw you in a pile of briers.' The rabbit said, 'Please don't throw me in the briers! You may burn me, you may roast me, but please don't throw me in the briers! You will tear my face and eyes to pieces.' Then Mr. Fox took him, and threw him in the briers. The rabbit laughed, 'Ha, ha, ha! you threw me to my home in bamboo-briers. I was bred and born in a brier-patch.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,"The Dance for Water; or, Rabbit's Triumph",South Africa,NA,"Source (books.google.com): James A. Honeÿ, South-African Folk-Tales (New York: the Baker & Taylor Company, 1910), pp. 79-83. Source (Internet Archive): James A. Honeÿ, South-African Folk-Tales (New York: the Baker & Taylor Company, 1910), pp. 79-83.","There was a frightful drought. The rivers after a while dried up and even the springs gave no water. The animals wandered around seeking drink, but to no avail. Nowhere was water to be found. A great gathering of animals was held: Lion, Tiger, Wolf, Jackal, Elephant, all of them came together. What was to be done? That was the question. One had this plan, and another had that; but no plan seemed of value. Finally one of them suggested: 'Come, let all of us go to the dry riverbed and dance; in that way we can tread out the water.' Good! Everyone was satisfied and ready to begin instantly, excepting Rabbit, who said, 'I will not go and dance. All of you are mad to attempt to get water from the ground by dancing.' The other animals danced and danced, and ultimately danced the water to the surface. How glad they were. Everyone drank as much as he could, but Rabbit did not dance with them. So it was decided that Rabbit should have no water. He laughed at them: 'I will nevertheless drink some of your water.' That evening he proceeded leisurely to the riverbed where the dance had been, and drank as much as he wanted. The following morning the animals saw the footprints of Rabbit in the ground, and Rabbit shouted to them: 'Aha! I did have some of the water, and it was most refreshing and tasted fine.' Quickly all the animals were called together. What were they to do? How were they to get Rabbit in their hands? All had some means to propose; the one suggested this, and the other that. Finally old Tortoise moved slowly forward, foot by foot: 'I will catch Rabbit.' 'You? How? What do you think of yourself?' shouted the others in unison. 'Rub my shell with pitch [black beeswax], and I will go to the edge of the water and lie down. I will then resemble a stone, so that when Rabbit steps on me his feet will stick fast.' 'Yes! Yes! That's good.' And in a one, two, three, Tortoise's shell was covered with pitch, and foot by foot he moved away to the river. At the edge, close to the water, he lay down and drew his head into his shell. Rabbit during the evening came to get a drink. 'Ha!' he chuckled sarcastically, 'they are, after all, quite decent. Here they have placed a stone, so now I need not unnecessarily wet my feet.' Rabbit trod with his left foot on the stone, and there it stuck. Tortoise then put his head out. 'Ha! old Tortoise! And it's you, is it, that's holding me. But here I still have another foot. I'll give you a good clout.' Rabbit gave Tortoise what he said he would with his right forefoot, hard and straight; and there his foot remained. 'I have yet a hind foot, and with it I'll kick you.' Rabbit drove his hind foot down. This also rested on Tortoise where it struck. 'But still another foot remains, and now I'll tread you.' He stamped his foot down, but it stuck like the others. He used his head to hammer Tortoise, and his tail as a whip, but both met the same fate as his feet, so there he was tight and fast down to the pitch. Tortoise now slowly turned himself round and foot by foot started for the other animals, with Rabbit on his back. 'Ha! ha! ha! Rabbit! How does it look now? Insolence does not pay after all,' shouted the animals. Now advice was sought. What should they do with Rabbit? He certainly must die. But how? One said, 'Behead him'; another, 'Some severe penalty.' 'Rabbit, how are we to kill you?' 'It does not affect me,' Rabbit said. 'Only a shameful death please do not pronounce.' 'And what is that?' they all shouted. 'To take me by my tail and dash my head against a stone; that I pray and beseech you don't do.' 'No, but just so you'll die. That is decided.' It was decided Rabbit should die by taking him by his tail and dashing his head to pieces against some stone. But who is to do it? Lion, because he is the most powerful one. Good! Lion should do it. He stood up, walked to the front, and poor Rabbit was brought to him. Rabbit pleaded and beseeched that he couldn't die such a miserable death. Lion took Rabbit firmly by the tail and swung him around. The white skin slipped off from Rabbit, and there Lion stood with the white bit of skin and hair in his paw. Rabbit was free.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,The Demon with the Matted Hair,"India, Jataka Tales, retold by Joseph Jacobs",NA,"Joseph Jacobs Indian Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1892), pp. 194-98.","Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was King of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born as son of his chief queen. On his name-day they asked 800 Brahmans, having satisfied them with all their desires, about his lucky marks. The Brahmans who had skill in divining from such marks beheld the excellence of his, and made answer: 'Full of goodness, great King, is your son, and when you die he will become king; he shall be famous and renowned for his skill with the five weapons, and shall be the chief man in all India.' On hearing what the Brahmans had to say, they gave him the name of the Prince of the Five Weapons, sword, spear, bow, battle-axe, and shield. When he came to years of discretion, and had attained the measure of sixteen years, the King said to him: 'My son, go and complete your education.' 'Who shall be my teacher?' the lad asked. 'Go, my son; in the kingdom of Candahar, in the city of Takkasila, is a far-famed teacher from whom I wish you to learn. Take this, and give it him for a fee.' With that he gave him a thousand pieces of money, and dismissed him. The lad departed, and was educated by this teacher; he received the Five Weapons from him as a gift, bade him farewell, and leaving Takkasila, he began his journey to Benares, armed with the Five Weapons. On his way he came to a forest inhabited by the Demon with the Matted Hair. At the entering in of the forest some men saw him, and cried out: 'Hullo, young sir, keep clear of that wood! There's a Demon in it called he of the Matted Hair. He kills every man he sees!' And they tried to stop him. But the Bodhisatta, having confidence in himself, went straight on, fearless as a maned lion. When he reached mid-forest the Demon showed himself. He made himself as tall as a palm tree; his head was the size of a pagoda, his eyes as big as saucers, and he had two tusks all over knobs and bulbs; he had the face of a hawk, a variegated belly, and blue hands and feet. 'Where are you going?' he shouted. 'Stop! You'll make a meal for me!' Said the Bodhisatta: 'Demon, I came here trusting in myself. I advise you to be careful how you come near me. Here's a poisoned arrow, which I'll shoot at you and knock you down!' With this menace, he fitted to his bow an arrow dipped in deadly poison, and let fly. The arrow stuck fast in the Demon's hair. Then he shot and shot, till he had shot away fifty arrows; and they all stuck in the Demon's hair. The Demon snapped them all off short, and threw them down at his feet; then came up to the Bodhisatta, who drew his sword and struck the Demon, threatening him the while. His sword -- it was three-and-thirty inches long -- stuck in the Demon's hair! The Bodhisatta struck him with his spear that stuck too! He struck him with his club and that stuck too! When the Bodhisatta saw that this had stuck fast, he addressed the Demon. 'You, Demon!'' said he, 'did you never hear of me before the Prince of the Five Weapons? When I came into the forest which you live in I did not trust to my bow and other weapons. This day will I pound you and grind you to powder!' Thus did he declare his resolve, and with, a shout he hit at the Demon with his right hand. It stuck fast in his hair! He hit him with his left hand that stuck too! With his right foot he kicked him that stuck too; then with his left and that stuck too! Then he butted at him with his head, crying, 'I'll pound you to powder!' and his head stuck fast like the rest. Thus the Bodhisatta was five times snared, caught fast in five places, hanging suspended: yet he felt no fear was not even nervous. Thought the Demon to himself: 'Here's a lion of a man! A noble man! More than man is he! Here he is, caught by a Demon like me; yet he will not fear a bit. Since I have ravaged this road, I never saw such a man. Now, why is it that he does not fear?' He was powerless to eat the man, but asked him: 'Why is it, young sir, that you are not frightened to death?' 'Why should I fear, Demon?' replied he. 'In one life a man can die but once. Besides, in my belly is a thunderbolt; if you eat me, you will never be able to digest it; this will tear your inwards into little bits, and kill you: so we shall both perish. That is why I fear nothing.' (By this, the Bodhisatta meant the weapon of knowledge which he had within him.) When he heard this, the Demon thought: 'This young man speaks the truth. A piece of the flesh of such a lion-man as he would be too much for me to digest, if it were no bigger than a kidney-bean. I'll let him go!' So, being frightened to death, he let go the Bodhisatta, saying: 'Young sir, you are a lion of a man! I will not eat you up. I set you free from my hands, as the moon is disgorged from the jaws of Rahu after the eclipse. Go back to the company of your friends and relations!' And the Bodhisatta said: 'Demon, I will go, as you say. You were born a Demon, cruel, blood-bibbing, devourer of the flesh and gore of others, because you did wickedly in former lives. If you still go on doing wickedly, you will go from darkness to darkness. But now that you have seen me you will find it impossible to do wickedly. Taking the life of living creatures causes birth, as an animal, in the world of Petas, or in the body of an Asura, or, if one is reborn as a man, it makes his life short.' With this and the like monition he told him the disadvantage of the five kinds of wickedness, and the profit of the five kinds of virtue, and frightened the Demon in various ways, discoursing to him until he subdued him and made him self-denying, and established him in the five kinds of virtue; he made him worship the deity to whom offerings were made in that wood; and having carefully admonished him, departed out of it. At the entrance of the forest he told all to the people thereabout; and went on to Benares, armed with his five weapons. Afterwards he became king, and ruled righteously; and after giving alms and doing good he passed away according to his deeds. And the Teacher, when this tale was ended, became perfectly enlightened, and repeated this verse: Whose mind and heart from all desire is free, Who seeks for peace by living virtuously, He in due time will sever all the bonds That bind him fast to life, and cease to be. Thus the Teacher reached the summit, through sainthood and the teaching of the law, and thereupon he declared the Four Truths. At the end of the declaring of the Truths, this Brother also attained to sainthood. Then the Teacher made the connection, and gave the key to the birth-tale, saying: 'At that time Angulimala was the Demon, but the Prince of the Five Weapons was I myself.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,"The Farmer, the Crocodile, and the Jackal",Pakistan,NA,"J. F. A. McNair and Thomas Lambert Barlow Oral Tradition from the Indus (Brighton: Cranbourne Printing Works, 1908), pp. 54-60.","There was once a wily old crocodile who dwelt in a tank [pond] hard by a village, and he was sometimes so ferocious that he would seize children who used to go for water there, then drown and eat them. He had become, in fact, the terror of the place. One year there was a very great drought, and the tank by degrees began to dry up, and at last it got quite dry, and the crocodile was to be seen grilling and roasting in the sun. He used to call out to the passers-by, 'Oh! pray take pity upon me and show me where I can go for water, for I am dying in this heat.' 'No, indeed! they all said. 'We are glad to see you suffering, for have you not often made us suffer by taking our goats, and sometimes even our children? We shall not help you in any way.' At last an old man passed by, and the crocodile appealed to him, and at first he replied as the others did, but afterwards he relented and said, 'Well, if you will follow me I will take you to a tank which is never dry.' So the crocodile followed him, and he showed him a tank no great distance off, which was filled with water. The old man went first into the tank himself, and calling to the crocodile, he said, 'See here, how deep it is!' No sooner had the crocodile had a good drink, than he made a grab at the old man's leg. 'Ah-ho! Ah-ho!' said the old man. 'What are you doing?' 'Well,' replied the crocodile, 'I have had a good drink, thanks to you, and as I have had no food for many days, I am going to make a meal of you. That is what I am going to do.' 'You wretched and ungrateful brute!' said the old man. 'Is this the way you reward me?' At that moment a jackal hove in sight, coming for a drink (the jackals, we know, are the most cunning of all animals), and the old man said, 'I will put my case before him, and if he says you are to eat me, very good, so you shall.' The old man then beckoned to the jackal to come close up to the tank, and told him all the facts of the case. The jackal said, 'You know I am always a just judge, and if you want me to decide, you must show me the place from whence you brought the crocodile.' So they all three wended their way back to the tank near the village, and the jackal said, 'Show me the exact spot where you first found the crocodile,' and when they got there the jackal said, 'Now I am going to give you my judgment, so prepare to listen.' Then turning to the old man, he said quietly, 'You silly old idiot! What made you ever help a crocodile? Now, you run one way, and I will run the other.' The jackal gave a skip, and was soon off out of sight, and the old man took to his heels also, and soon got away. The wily old crocodile, now balked of his prey, said to himself, 'I know my way back to that water tank, and I will someday have my revenge on that jackal, for he is sure to come there to lap water.' So back he went, and as there were many trees near the tank, some of whose roots went beneath the water, the crocodile lay in ambush there. By and by the jackal came to drink water, and the crocodile made a sudden snap at his leg, and held it. 'Oh, you foolish crocodile!' the jackal said, 'you think you have got hold of my leg, do you? But it is only the root of a tree.' Hearing this, the crocodile released his hold, and the jackal jumped off in high glee out of his reach. The crocodile then determined that he would try some other plan of entrapping him. So, as there were great numbers of a small fruit falling from one of the trees, which he knew the jackal came to eat, he one night piled up a heap and hid himself beneath it, leaving only his eyes uncovered. Presently the jackal came prowling along, and noticing the pile of fruit he felt inclined to partake of some, but he drew near very cautiously, and in a moment he caught sight of the two eyes of the crocodile glistening in the moonlight, when he called out, 'Oh, I see you!' and scampered off. After this, the crocodile saw that it was no use to try himself to catch the jackal, 'for,' said he, 'he is too cunning for me. I must employ someone who comes to get water here.' So one day he saw a farmer, and said to him, 'If you will catch a jackal for me, I will make you a rich man, for I will give you several jewels which people have dropped in this tank for years and years, and they are lying here at the bottom.' 'Oh!' replied the farmer, 'that is easily done.' So that very night he went into the jungle and lay down as if dead. Presently the jackal made his appearance, and smelling along he came close up to the body. Then he hesitated and said, 'I wonder if this is really a dead body or not.' He then called out audibly, 'If it is really dead it will shake its leg, and if it is alive it won't do so.' This he said so quickly and so artfully that the farmer was taken aback, and to make him believe he was dead he at once stupidly shook his leg, and off skipped the jackal, saying, 'I caught you there,' and was lost to view in an instant. The farmer, who was very avaricious, and wanted the jewels badly, made up his mind that he would by hook or by crook make sure of the jackal on the next occasion. So this time he prepared of the softest wax a doll the size of a child, and digging a small grave and covering it over with leaves and mud, he waited in hiding to see the result. Shortly after sunset the jackal began to prowl about as usual, and coming on the new grave he said to himself, 'Ah! This is someone lately buried. I will try my luck here.' He then began to scratch with his paw, and presently one paw got caught in the wax, and in trying to get that away, all four became stuck with the wax, when in a moment out came the farmer from his hiding place and said, 'Ah! At last I have got you, and you are my prisoner!' The jackal yelled and howled, and endeavored to escape, but was hindered by the wax on his feet. So then he took to frightening the farmer, and said, 'If you do not get me out of this scrape I will call all the jackals in a moment of time, and they will destroy you forever, for do you not know that I am the king of the jackals?' 'What am I to do?' asked the farmer. 'Go!' he said. 'Go and get some oil, and rub it all over me. Then get a fowl, and tie it about fifty yards away, and bring two men with hatchets to stand over me, so that if I attempt to get away they may chop me to pieces!' This being done by the farmer, the jackal while being held in his hands sought his opportunity, and being well greased all over, he made a violent spring and so got clear of the farmer. Then he dashed between the legs of the men with hatchets, when they made a plunge at him, but they only succeeded in hurting their own legs. So the jackal got finally off, and picking up the fowl, he was soon lost to view, and so won the day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,The Jackal and the Chickens,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 112, pp. 322-25.","Once upon a time a jackal and a hen were great friends and regarded each other as brother and sister; and they agreed to have a feast to celebrate their friendship; so they both brewed rice beer and they first drank at the jackal's house and then went to the hen's house; and there they drank so much that the hen got blind drunk, and while she lay intoxicated the jackal ate her up. The jackal found the flesh so nice that he made up his mind to eat the hen's chickens too; so the next day he went to their house and found them all crying 'Cheep, cheep,' and he asked what was the matter; they said that they had lost their mother; he told them to cheer up and asked where they slept; they told him, 'on the shelf in the wall.' Then he went away; but the chickens saw that he meant to come and eat them at night, so they did not go to sleep on the shelf but filled it with razors and knives and when the jackal came at night and felt about the shelf he got badly cut and ran away screaming. But a few day later he paid another visit to the chickens, and condoled with them on the loss of their mother and again asked where they slept, and they told him, 'in the fireplace.' Directly the jackal was gone, they filled the stove with live embers and covered them up with ashes; and went to sleep themselves inside a drum. At night the jackal came and put his paws into the fireplace; but he only scraped the hot embers up against his belly and got burnt; this made him scream and the chickens burst out laughing. The jackal heard them and said, 'You have got me burnt; now I am going to eat you.' They said, 'Yes, uncle, but please eat us outside the house; you did not eat our mother in her own house; take us to yonder flat rock.' So the jackal took up the drum but when he got to the rock he accidentally let it fall and it broke and the chickens ran away in all directions; but the chicken that had been at the bottom of the drum had got covered with the droppings of the others and could not fly away; so the jackal thought, 'Well it is the will of heaven that I should have only one chicken; it is doubtless for the best!' The chicken said to the jackal, 'I see that you will eat me, but you cannot eat me in this state; wash me clean first.' So the jackal took the chicken to a pool and washed it; then the chicken asked to be allowed to get a little dry; but the jackal said that if it got dry it would fly away. 'Then,' said the chicken, 'rub me dry with your snout and I will myself tell you when I am ready to be eaten;' so the jackal rubbed it dry and then proceeded to eat it; but directly the jackal got it in his mouth it voided there, so the jackal spat it out and it flew away. The jackal thought that it had gone into a hole in a white ant-hill, but really it had hidden elsewhere; however the jackal felt for it in the hole and then tried in vain to scrape the hole larger; as he could not get into the hole he determined to sit and wait till hunger or suffocation forced the chicken to come out. So he sat and watched, and he sat so long that the white ants ate off his hind quarters; at last he gave up and went off to the rice fields to look for fish and crabs. There he saw an old woman catching fish, and he asked to be allowed to help her. So the old woman sat on the bank and the jackal jumped and twisted about in the water and presently he caught a potha fish which he ate; but as the jackal had no hind quarters the fish passed through him none the worse. Soon the jackal caught the same fish over again, and he laughed at the old woman because she had caught none. She told him that he was catching the same fish over and over again, and when he would not believe her she told him to mark with a thorn the next one which he caught; he did so and then found that he really was catching and eating the same fish over and over again. At this he was much upset and asked what he should do. The old woman advised him to go to a cobbler and get patched up; so he went and killed a fowl and took it to a cobbler and offered it to him if he would put him to rights; so the cobbler sewed on a leather patch with a long leather tail which rapped on the ground as the jackal went along. Then the jackal went to a village to steal fowls and he danced along with his tail tapping, and sang: Now the Moghul cavalry are coming And the Koenda Rajas. Run away or they will utterly destroy you. And when the villagers heard this they all ran away and the jackal entered the village and killed as many fowls as he wanted. A few days later he went again to the village and frightened away the villagers as before; but one old woman was too feeble to run away and she hid in a pigsty, and one fowl that the jackal chased, ran into this sty and the jackal followed it, and when he saw the old woman, he told her to catch the fowl for him or he would knock her teeth out; but she told him to catch it himself; so he caught and ate it. Then he said to the old woman. Say 'Toyo' (jackal) and she said 'Toyo'; then he took a curry pounder and knocked all her teeth out and told her again to say 'Toyo'; but as she had no teeth she said 'Hoyo.' This amused the jackal immensely and he went away laughing. When the villagers returned, the old woman told them that it was only a jackal who had attacked the village, so they decided to kill him; but one man said 'You won't be able to catch him; let us make an image of this old woman and cover it with birdlime and set it up at the end of the village street; he will stop and abuse her, and we shall know where he is.' So they did this, and the next morning, when the jackal came singing along the road, they hid inside their houses. When the jackal reached the village, he saw the figure of the old woman with its arms stretched out, and he said to it, 'What are you blocking my road for? get out of the way; I knocked your teeth out yesterday: aren't you afraid? Get out of the way or I will kick you out.' As the figure did not move he gave it a kick and his leg was caught in the birdlime. Then he said, 'Let me go, you old hag, or I will give you a slap.' Then he gave it a slap and his front paw was stuck fast; then he slapped at it with his other paw and that stuck. Then he tried to bite the figure and his jaws got caught also; and when he was thus helpless the villagers came out and beat him to death and that was the end of the jackal.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,The Monkey and Juan Puson Tambi-Tambi,Philippines,"The story continues in the tradtion of a type 545B folktale ('Puss in Boots'), with the monkey enabling his benefactor Juan to become the ruler of two kingdoms. Note by Fansler: Narrated by Encarnacion Gonzaga, a Visayan from Jaro, Iloilo. She says that she has often heard this story; that it was very popular among the 'inhabitants of yesterday,' and that even now many are fond of it.","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 48a, pp. 326-27.","Tiring-Tirang was a barrio in the town of Tang-Tang, situated at the foot of a hill which was called 'La Campana' because of its shape. Around the hill, about a mile from the barrio, flowed the Malogo River, in which the people of the town used to bathe. It so happened that one time an epidemic broke out in the community, killing off all the inhabitants except one couple. This couple had an only son named Juan Pusong Tambi-Tambi. When Juan had reached his twelfth year, his father died; consequently the boy had to go to work to earn money for the support of himself and his mother. At first Juan followed the occupation of his father, that of fisherman; but, seeing that he made little money from this, he decided to become a farmer. His mother had now reached the age of seventy(!), and was often sick. Juan frequently had to neglect his farm in order to take care of her. One day Juan went to Pit-Pit to buy medicine for his mother. On his way to the town he saw a flock of crows eating up his corn. He paid no attention to the birds; but on his way back, when he saw these same birds still eating his corn, he became angry. He picked up a stone about the size of his fist, and crept into a bush near by. He had hardly hidden himself when the birds heard a rustling, and began to fly off. Juan jumped up, and hurled his stone with such accuracy and force that one of the crows fell dead to the ground. He tied the dead crow to a bamboo pole, and planted it in the middle of his corn field. No sooner was he out of sight than the crows flew back to the field again; but when they saw their dead companion, they flew off, and never troubled Juan again. For six months Juan had no trouble from birds. He did not know, however, that not far from his field there was a monkey (chongo) living in a large tree. This monkey used to come to his field every day and steal two or three ears of corn. One day, as Juan was walking across his field, he saw many dead cornstalks. He said to himself, 'I wonder who it is that comes here and steals my corn! I am no longer troubled by birds; and yet I find here many husks.' He went home and made an image of a crooked old man like himself. This he covered with sticky wax. He placed it in the middle of the field. The next morning, when the sun was shining very brightly, the monkey felt hungry, so he ran towards the field to steal some corn to eat. There he saw the statue. Thinking that it was Juan, he decided to ask permission before he took any corn. 'Good-morning, Juan!' said the monkey in a courteous tone; but the image made no reply. 'You are too proud to bend your neck, Juan,' continued the monkey. 'I have only come to ask you for three or four ears of corn. I have not eaten since yesterday, you know; and if you deny me this request, I shall die before morning.' The waxen statue still stood motionless. 'Do you hear me, Juan?' said the monkey impatiently. Still the statue made no reply. 'Since you are too proud to answer me, I will soon give you some presents. Look out!' he cried, and with his right paw he slapped the statue which he thought was Juan; but his paw stuck to the wax, and he could not get free. 'Let my hand loose!' the monkey shouted, 'or you will get another present.' Then he slapped the statue with his left paw, and, as before, stuck fast. 'You are foolish, Juan. If you do not let me go this very moment, I'll kick you.' He did so, first with one foot, and then with the other. At last he could no longer move, and he began to curse the statue. Juan, who had been hiding in a bush near by, now presented himself, and said to the monkey, 'Now I have caught you, you thief!' He would have killed the monkey at once, had not the monkey begged for mercy, and promised that he would at some future time repay him for his kindness if he would only spare his life. So Juan set the monkey free.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,The Rabbit and the Frenchman,Native American (Biloxi),"This tale's first episode describing the sharing of above-ground and underground crops is a corruption of the international folktale type 1030, Crop Division between Man and Ogre.","J. Owen Dorsey, 'Two Biloxi Tales Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 6, no. 20 (January - March, 1893), pp. 48-49.","During January and February of this year [1892], I was in the central part of Louisiana, where I found the survivors of the Biloxi tribe. These Indians belong to the Siouan linguistic family, their language being closely related to those of the Tutelo of Canada, the Hidatsa of North Dakota, and the Kwapa of Indian Territory. In order to record any of the texts in the original Biloxi, it was necessary to have present not only the aged woman who told the myths to the others, but also her daughter and son-in-law, as only the last could be induced to dictate the myths sentence by sentence and in an audible voice, the others prompting him from time to time. The first myth which I shall present is one entitled 'The Rabbit and the Frenchman.' The rabbit and the Frenchman were two friends. The rabbit aided the Frenchman, agreeing to work a piece of land on shares. The first season they planted potatoes. The rabbit, having been told to select his share of the crop, chose the potato vines, and devoured them all. The next season they planted corn. This year the rabbit said, 'I will eat the roots.' So he pulled up all the corn by the roots, but he found nothing to satisfy his hunger. Then the Frenchman said, 'Let us dig a well.' But the rabbit did not wish to work any longer with his friend. Said he to the Frenchman, 'If you wish to dig a well, I shall not help you.' 'Oho,' said the Frenchman, 'you shall not drink any of the water from the well.' 'That does not matter,' replied the rabbit, 'I am accustomed to licking the dew from the ground.' The Frenchman, suspecting mischief, made a tar-baby, which he stood up close to the well. The rabbit approached the well, carrying a long piece of cane and a tin bucket. On reaching the well he addressed the tar-baby, who remained silent. 'Friend, what is the matter? Are you angry?' said the rabbit. Still the tar-baby said nothing. So the rabbit hit him with one forepaw, which stuck there. 'Let me go or I will hit you on the other side,' exclaimed the rabbit. And when he found that the tar-baby paid no attention to him, he hit him with his other fore paw, which stuck to the tar-baby. 'I will kick you,' said the rabbit. But when he kicked the tar-baby, the hind foot stuck. 'I will kick you with the other foot,' said the rabbit. And when he did so, that foot, too, stuck to the tar baby. Then the rabbit resembled a ball, because his feet were sticking to the tar baby, and he could neither stand nor recline. Just at this time the Frenchman approached. He tied the legs of the rabbit together, laid him down and scolded him. Then the rabbit pretended to be in great fear of a brier patch. 'As you are in such fear of a brier patch,' said the Frenchman, 'I will throw you into one.' 'Oh, no,' replied the rabbit. 'I will throw you into the brier patch,' responded the Frenchman. 'I am much afraid of it,' said the rabbit. 'As you are in such dread of it,' said the Frenchman, 'I will throw you into it.' So he seized the rabbit, and threw him into the brier patch. The rabbit fell at some distance from the Frenchman. But instead of being injured, he sprang up and ran off laughing at the trick which he had played on the Frenchman.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,The Story of a Dam,South Africa (Hottentot),NA,"Thomas Bain, Folk-Lore Journal [of South Africa], vol. 1, part 4 (July 1879), pp. 69-73.","There was a great drought in the land; and the lion called together a number of animals, so that they might devise a plan for retaining water when the rains fell. The animals which attended to the lion's summons were the baboon, the leopard, the hyena, the jackal, the hare, and the mountain tortoise. It was agreed that they should scratch a large hole m some suitable place to hold water; and the next day they all began to work, with the exception of the jackal, who continually hovered about in that locality, and was overheard to mutter that he was not going to scratch his nails off in making waterholes. When the dam was finished, the rains fell, and it was soon filled with water, to the great delight of those who had worked so hard at it. The first one, however, to come and drink there, was the jackal, who not only drank, but filled his clay pot with water, and then proceeded to swim in the rest of the water, making it as muddy and dirty as he could. This was brought to the knowledge of the lion, who was very angry, and ordered the baboon to guard the water the next day, armed with a huge knobkirrie. The baboon was concealed in a bush close to the water; but the jackal soon became aware of his presence there, and guessed its cause. Knowing the fondness of baboons for honey, the jackal at once hit upon a plan, and marching to and fro, every now and then dipped his lingers into his clay pot, and licked them with an expression of intense relish, saying, in a low voice, to himself, 'I don't want any of their dirty water, when I have a pot full of delicious honey.' This was too much for the poor baboon, whose mouth began to water. He soon began to beg the jackal to give him a little honey, as he had been watching for several hours, and was very hungry and tired. After taking no notice of the baboon at first, the jackal looked round, and said, in a patronizing manner, that he pitied such an unfortunate creature, and would give, him some honey, on certain conditions, viz., that the baboon should give up his knobkirrie and allow himself to be bound by the jackal. He foolishly agreed; and was soon tied in such a manner that he could not move hand or foot. The jackal now proceeded to drink of the water, to fill his pot, and to swim, in the sight of the baboon; from time to time telling him what a foolish fellow he had been to be so easily duped, and that he (the jackal) had no honey or anything else to give him, excepting a good blow on the head every now and then with his own knobkirrie. The animals soon appeared, and found the poor baboon in this sorry plight; looking the picture of misery. The lion was so exasperated that he caused the baboon to be severely punished, and to be denounced as a fool. The tortoise hereupon stepped forward, and offered his services for the capture of the jackal. It was at first thought that he was merely joking; but, when he explained in what manner he proposed to catch him, his plan was considered so feasible that his offer was accepted. He proposed that a thick coating of bijenwerk (a kind of sticky black substance found on bee-hives, i.e., bee-glue) should be spread fill over him, and that he should then go and stand at the entrance of the dam, on the water level, so that the jackal might tread upon him, and stick fast. This was accordingly done, and the tortoise posted there. The next day, when the jackal came, he approached the water very cautiously, and wondered to find no one there. He then ventured to the entrance of the water, and remarked how kind they had been in placing there a large black stepping-stone for him. As soon, however, as he trod upon the supposed stone, he stuck fast, and saw that he had been tricked; for the tortoise now put his head out, and began to move. The jackal's hind feet being still free, he threatened to smash the tortoise with them if he did not let him go. The tortoise merely answered, 'Do as you like.' The jackal thereupon made a violent jump, and found, with horror, that his hind foot were now also fast. 'Tortoise,' said he, ' I have still my mouth and teeth left, and will eat you alive, if you do not let me go,' 'Do as you like,' the tortoise again replied. The jackal, in his endeavors to free himself, at last made a desperate bite at the tortoise, and found himself fixed, both head and feet. The tortoise, feeling proud of his successful capture, now marched quietly up to the top of the bank with the jackal on his back, so that he could easily be seen by the animals as they came to the water. They were indeed astonished to find how cleverly the crafty jackal had been caught; and the tortoise was much praised, while the unhappy baboon was again reminded of his misconduct when set to guard the water. The jackal was at once condemned to death by the lion; and the hyena was to execute the sentence. The jackal pleaded hard for mercy, but, finding this useless, he made a last request to the lion (always, as he said, so fair and just in his dealings) that he should not have to suffer a lingering death. The lion inquired of him in what manner he wished to die; and he asked that his tail might be shaved and rubbed with a little fat, and that the hyena might then swing him round twice, and dash his brains out upon a stone. This, being considered sufficiently fair by the lion, was ordered by him to be carried out in his presence. When the jackal's tail had been shaved and greased, the hyena caught hold of him with great force, and before he had fairly lifted him from the ground, the cunning jackal had slipped away from the hyena's grasp, and was running for his life, pursued by all the animals. The lion was the foremost pursuer, and, after a great chase, the jackal got under an overhanging precipice, and, standing on his hind legs with his shoulders pressed against the rock, called loudly lo the lion to help him, as the rock was falling, and would crush them both. The lion put his shoulders to the rock, and exerted himself to the utmost. After some little time, the jackal proposed that he should creep slowly out, and fetch a large pole to prop up the rock, so that the lion could get out and save his life. The jackal did creep out, and left the lion there to starve, and die.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
175,The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story,"USA, Joel Chandler Harris",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings: The Folk-Lore of the Old Plantation (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1881), no. 2, pp. 23-25. Source (Internet Archive): Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings: The Folk-Lore of the Old Plantation (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1881), no. 2, pp. 23-25.","'Didn't the fox never catch the rabbit, Uncle Remus?' asked the little boy the next evening. He come mighty nigh it, honey, sho's you bawn -- Brer Fox did. One day, atter Brer Rabbit fool 'im wid dat calamus root, Brer Fox went ter wuk en got 'im some tar, en mix it wid some turkentime, en fix up a contrapshun wat he call a Tar-Baby, en he tuck dish yer Tar-Baby en he sot 'er in de big road, en den he lay off in de bushes fer ter see wat de news wuz gwineter be. En he didn't hatter wait long, nuddor, kaze bimeby here come Brer Rabbit pacin' down de road -- lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity -- dez ez sassy ez a jay-bird. Brer Fox, he lay low. Brer Rab bit come prancin' 'long twel he spy de Tar-Baby, en den he fotch up on his behime legs like he wuz 'stonished. De Tar-Baby, she sot dar, she did, en Brer Fox, he lay low. ''Mawnin!' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee -- 'nice wedder dis mawnin',' sezee. 'Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox, he lay low. 'How duz yo' sym'tums seem ter segashuate? ' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. Brer Fox, he wink his eye slow, en lay low, en de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'. 'How you come on, den? Is you deaf?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Kaze if you is, I kin holler louder,' sezee. Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low. 'Youer stuck up, dat's what you is,' says Brer Rabbit, sezee, en I'm gwineter kyore you, dat's w'at I'm a gwineter do,' sezee. Brer Fox, he sorter chuckle in his stummuck, he did, but Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin'. 'I'm gwineter lam you howter talk ter 'specttubble fokes ef hit's de las' ack,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Ef you don't take off dat hat en tell me howdy, I'm gwineter bus' you wide open,' sezee. Brer Rabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, she keep on sayin' nuthin', twel present'y Brer Rabbit draw back wid his fis', he did, en blip he tuck 'er side er de head. Right dar's whar he broke his merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull loose. De tar hilt 'im. But Tar-Baby, she stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low. 'Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you agin,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, en wid dat he fotch 'er a wipe wid de udder han', en dat stuck. Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox, he lay low. 'Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de natal stuffin' outen you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'. She des hilt on, en den Brer Rabbit lose de use er his feet in de same way. Brer Fox, he lay low. Den Brer Rabbit squall out dat ef de Tar-Baby don't tu'n 'im loose he butt 'er cranksided. En den he butted, en his head got stuck. Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', lookin' des ez innercent ez wunner yo' mammy's mockin'-birds. 'Howdy, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 'You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin',' sezee, en den he rolled on de groun', en laft en laft twel he couldn't laff no mo'. 'I speck you'll take dinner wid me dis time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some calamus root, en I ain't gwineter take no skuse,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound yam out of the ashes. 'Did the fox eat the rabbit?' asked the little boy to whom the story had been told. 'Dat's all de fur de tale goes,' replied the old man. 'He mout, en den agin he moutent. Some say Jedge B'ar come 'long en loosed 'im -- some say he didn't. I hear Miss Sally callin'. You better run 'long.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
122E,How the Goats Came to Hessen,Germany,Hessen (also called Hesse) is in west-central Germany. This story is from the town of Hemer.,"Adalbert Kuhn, 'Wie die Ziegen nach Hessen gekommen sind,' Sagen Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen und einigen andern, besonders den angrenzenden Gegenden Norddeutschlands (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), v. 2, pp. 250-251. Translated by D. L. Ashliman.","In olden, olden times, the land of Hessen was surrounded by great forests which were inhabited by many wolves. Many a family of goats attempted to enter the land, but were torn apart by the bloodthirsty beasts. One day a weak little kid goat was making his way toward Hessen. He had hardly entered the forest before a wolf confronted him and wanted to tear him to pieces. Filled with fear, the little kid said, 'My mother is coming too.' The wolf thought, 'Don't spoil your appetite. The mother will be a better meal for my hungry stomach.' And he let the little animal pass in peace. Sure enough, soon afterward the mother goat appeared. The wolf was about to pounce on her, when she -- filled with fear -- said, 'My husband is coming too.' 'Stop!' thought the wolf. 'Her husband is larger and will be a better meal for you. Wait to eat until he comes.' Finally the ram goat approached. The wolf's heart laughed inside his body when he saw the stately fellow. He was about to spring on him and grab him by the throat when two things caught his attention: the ram's spikes and his bag. 'Tell me, ram,' what are those big spikes on your head, and what is that bag for between your legs?' 'Oh,' replied the ram, 'the spikes are a pair of pistols, and the bag is where I carry my powder and lead.' In that moment, as such animals often do, the ram rubbed his left horn against his flank. The wolf thought that he was loading his pistol, and he took to flight. Thus the first family of goats arrived happily in the land of Hessen. Their descendents have multiplied so much that Hessen now provides the neighboring lands with its surplus every year. Sagen Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen und einigen andern, besonders den angrenzenden Gegenden Norddeutschlands (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), v. 2, pp. 250-251. Translated by D. L. Ashliman.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
122E,The Three Billy Goats Gruff,Norway,NA,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, De tre bukkene Bruse som skulle gå til seters og gjøre seg fete, Norske Folkeeventyr, translated by George Webbe Dasent in Popular Tales from the Norse, 2nd edition (London: George Routledge and Sons, n.d.), no. 37, pp. 275-276. Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman.","Once upon a time there were three billy goats, who were to go up to the hillside to make themselves fat, and the name of all three was 'Gruff.' On the way up was a bridge over a cascading stream they had to cross; and under the bridge lived a great ugly troll , with eyes as big as saucers, and a nose as long as a poker. So first of all came the youngest Billy Goat Gruff to cross the bridge. 'Trip, trap, trip, trap! ' went the bridge. 'Who's that tripping over my bridge?' roared the troll . 'Oh, it is only I, the tiniest Billy Goat Gruff , and I'm going up to the hillside to make myself fat,' said the billy goat, with such a small voice. 'Now, I'm coming to gobble you up,' said the troll. 'Oh, no! pray don't take me. I'm too little, that I am,' said the billy goat. 'Wait a bit till the second Billy Goat Gruff comes. He's much bigger.' 'Well, be off with you,' said the troll. A little while after came the second Billy Goat Gruff to cross the Trip, trap, trip, trap, trip, trap, went the bridge. 'Who's that tripping over my bridge?' roared the troll. 'Oh, it's the second Billy Goat Gruff , and I'm going up to the hillside to make myself fat,' said the billy goat, who hadn't such a small 'Now I'm coming to gobble you up,' said the troll. 'Oh, no! Don't take me. Wait a little till the big Billy Goat Gruff comes. He's much bigger.' 'Very well! Be off with you,' said the troll. But just then up came the big Billy Goat Gruff . Trip, trap, trip, trap, trip, trap! went the bridge, for the billy goat was so heavy that the bridge creaked and groaned under him. 'Who's that tramping over my bridge?' roared the troll. 'It's I! The big Billy Goat Gruff ,' said the billy goat, who had an ugly hoarse voice of his own. 'Now I 'm coming to gobble you up,' roared the troll. Well, come along! I've got two spears, And I'll poke your eyeballs out at your ears; I've got besides two curling-stones, And I'll crush you to bits, body and bones. That was what the big billy goat said. And then he flew at the troll, and poked his eyes out with his horns, and crushed him to bits, body and bones, and tossed him out into the cascade, and after that he went up to the hillside. There the billy goats got so fat they were scarcely able to walk home again. And if the fat hasn't fallen off them, why, they're still fat; and so, Snip, snap, snout. This tale's told out. Bruse som skulle gå til seters og gjøre seg fete, Norske Folkeeventyr, translated by George Webbe Dasent in Popular Tales from the Norse, 2nd edition (London: George Routledge and Sons, n.d.), no. 37, pp. 275-276. Translation revised by D.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
122E,The Three Goats,Poland/Germany,"Translated by D. L. Ashliman. The original text does not identify the goats' natural (as opposed to grammatical) gender. I have arbitrarily made them masculine. This fable is from Lusatia (German Lausitz, which historically was centred on the Neisse and upper Spree rivers, and contained a mixed Slavic and German population. The eastern part of Lusatia now belongs to Poland, the western part to Germany.","Karl Haupt, 'Die drei Ziegen,' Sagenbuch der Lausitz, v. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1863), no. 320, p. 222.","The one with one little belly was soon full and was the first to go home. But a wolf laid himself across the narrow mountain path and said, 'Run! Run, or I'll eat you up!' The goat said, 'Don't eat me up. I am very skinny, but a goat will soon come who has two little bellies. He will fill you up.' And the wolf let him go. Then came the second goat, the one with two little bellies, and who was now full. The wolf said to him as well, 'Run! Run, or I'll eat you up!' He said, 'Don't eat me up. I am only half meat, but a goat will soon come who has three little bellies, and who will fill you up completely.' And the wolf let him go as well. Then came the third goat, the one with three little bellies. He had finally gotten full. The wolf said to him, 'Run! Run, or I'll eat you up!' This goat said nothing in return, but instead, brave and forward as he was, lowered his horns and gave the wolf such a blow that he fell from the cliff into the chasm below and broke his right leg. And there the poor rascal lay. He wanted the biggest and fattest mouthfull, but instead got nothing -- but pain.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,How Come the Pigs Can See the Wind,"North Carolina, USA",NA,"Emma M. Backus, 'Animal Tales from North Carolina,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 11, no. 43 (October - December, 1898), pp. 284-92. This tale is no. 7 (pp. 290-92) in Backus' collection.","Did you done hear how come that old Sis Pig can see the wind? Well, to be sure, ain't you never hear that? Well, don't you take noticement, many and many a time, how unrestful, and 'stracted like, the pigs is, when the wind blows, and how they squeal, and run this yer way and that yer way, like they's 'stracted? Well, sah, all dat gwine on is along of the fact that they can see the wind. One time the old sow, she have five little pigs, -- four black and one white one. Now old Brer Wolf, he have a mighty good mouth for pig meat, and he go every night and walk round and round Miss Pig's house, but Sis Pig, she have the door lock fast. One night, he dress up just like he was a man, and he put a tall hat on he head, and shoes on he foots; he take a sack of corn, and he walk hard, and make a mighty fuss on the brick walk, right up to the door, and he knock loud on the door in a great haste, and Sis Pig, she say, 'Who there?' And Brer Wolf say up, loud and powerful, Brer Wolf did, 'Quit your fooling, old woman, I is the master, come for to put my mark on the new pigs; turn 'em loose here lively.' And old Sis Pig, she mighty skeered, but she feared not to turn 'em out; so she crack the door, and turn out the four black pigs, but the little white pig, he am her eyeballs, the little white pig was, and when he turn come, she just shut the door and hold it fast. And Brer Wolf, he turn down the corn, and just pick up the four little pigs and tote 'em off home; but when they done gone, he mouth hone for the little pig, but Sis Pig, she keep him mighty close. One night Brer Wolf was wandering up and down the woods, and he meet up with old Satan, and he ax Brer Wolf, old Satan did, can he help him, and Brer Wolf he just tell him what on he mind, and old Satan told him to lead on to Miss Pig's house, and he help him out. So Brer Wolf he lead on, and directly there Sis Pig's house, and old Satan, he 'gin to puff and blow, and puff and blow, till Brer Wolf he that skeered, Brer Wolf is, that he hair fairly stand on end; and Miss Pig she done hear the mighty wind, and the house a-cracking, and they hear her inside down on her knees, just calling on God A'mighty for mercy; but old Satan, he puff and blow, and puff and blow, and the house crack and tremble, and he say, old Satan did, 'You hear this yer mighty wind, Sis Pig, but if you look this yer way you can see it.' And Sis Pig, she that skeered, she crack the door and look out, and there she see old Satan's breath, like red smoke, blowing on the house, and from that day the pigs can see the wind, and it look red, the wind look red, sah. How we know that? I tell you how we know that, sah: if anybody miss a pig and take the milk, then they can see the wind, and they done tell it was red. The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 11, no. 43 (October - December, 1898), pp. 284-92. This tale is no. 7 (pp. 290-92) in Backus' collection.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,Little Pig and Wolf,"Virginia, USA",NA,"A. M. Bacon and E. C. Parsons, 'Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 35, no. 137 (July - September, 1922), pp. 250-327. This tale is no. 17 (pp. 267-69) in Bacon's and Parsons' collection.","Version A Once there lived a little pig in a very close little room. A wolf would come by every day and try to fool the little pig out, so he could eat him. One morning the wolf called, but the pig did not answer him. The wolf was very sure the little pig was in there: so he said, 'I know where a plenty of grapes. You better come and go with me.' When the wolf was gone, the little pig put out for the grapevine. By that time the wolf came to the pig's home and called him again. He did not receive any answer. Then he put out to the grape tree too. When the pig saw the wolf, he hid in some moss on the tree. The wolf saw the pig before he got there; and when he got there, he called the pig, but he did not get any answer. By that time the wolf started to climb the tree. When he got to the little pig, the little pig ran out and jumped and ran away, and got home before the wolf caught him. By the time the little pig jumped in his door and shut it, the wolf had his head in the door, and it caught his head. He said to the pig, 'Let me go! I will not hurt you.' The pig opened the do' a little, and the wolf jumped in. The pig caught him by the leg, but he was afeard: so he said, 'Yonder come de dogs.' 'Let me in! Let me in! Hide me in the box! The dogs will catch me!' said the wolf. The pig did so, but he got angry and began to put holes in the box. 'What are you doing? ' said the wolf. 'Putting holes so you can get air,' said the pig. 'Oh, indeed!' said the wolf. When the pig got the holes in the box, he put on some water. When it was very hot, he said, 'Don't you want some cool water poured on yo' to mek yo' feel good?' 'Yes,' said the wolf. So the pig po'ed hot water on him and killed him. Version B A long time ago Brer Wolf and Brer Rabbit were good friends, but for some reason or other they became deadly enemies. Brer Wolf decided to do Brer Rabbit harm. Brer Rabbit staid in his house most of the time, so Brer Wolf couldn't get at him. Wolf, however, thought of a way to get him out by stratagem. He knew that Brer Rabbit liked fruit: so he went to Brer Rabbit's door one night, and told him he knew where some fine large apples grew, and asked him if he would like to go and get some. Brer Rabbit very politely accepted the invitation, and agreed to go for the apples next morning at five o'clock. Brer Wolf trotted off home to dream of the sweet revenge he was going to have on Brer Rabbit, but Brer Rabbit was on to his tricks. Promptly at three o'clock he went after his apples, and was back quite a while before five o'clock. As the clocks struck five, Brer Wolf tapped on the door. 'Are you ready to go for dem apples, Brer Rabbit?' says 'e. Brer Rabbit says, 'La', Brer Wolf, my watch said five o'clock long 'go, and I thought you wasn't comin', so Ise done been.' Brer Wolf was so mad he couldn't stand still; but he did not give up his hope for revenge, so he told Brer Rabbit 'bout some peaches which were farther away from Brer Rabbit's house than the apples. Brer Rabbit gladly consented to go, this time at four o'clock; but when Brer Wolf came after him next morning, he had been fooled again, and Brer Rabbit was inside enjoying his peaches. This time Brer Wolf was so mad dat his har turned gray, but he wouldn't give up. He decided to send Brer Rabbit on a fool's errand: so he told him about some fine pears. They grew on a distant hill very far away. There wa'n't no pears dere at all. Brer Wolf jest want to get Brer Rabbit out of his house one more time. They agreed to go at three o'clock this time. Brer Rabbit started out ahead of time, as usual; but Brer Wolf, who had caught on to him, started out early too. He first caught sight of Brer Rabbit sittin' on de hill resting, den he kinder laughed up his sleeve when he thought how tired he must be from walking so far, an' how mad he must be for bein' fooled. After waiting a while, so's to catch his wind, he started out as if to speak to Brer Rabbit. Brer Rabbit knew there was trouble in the wind: so, as soon as he saw Brer Wolf comin', he made a break for home. Right down de hill he went, and Brer Wolf started right behind him. It was a race for life; and Brer Rabbit did his level best, while old Brer Wolf was equal to the occasion. They ran through cornfields, through woods and across fields, 'til they got in sight of Brer Rabbit's house. The sight of the house gave Brer Rabbit new courage and strength; so that he made a final break, and got in the house and locked the door just as Brer Wolf rushed 'ginst it. Brer Wolf tried all of his force to open the door; and as he failed, he decided to come down the chimney. Brer Rabbit had no intention of letting any one come down the chimney after him: so he just set a big kettle of boiling water right under the chimney; and when Brer Wolf dropped down, he went smack into the kettle. Den Brer Rabbit slapped on de cover, and he had Brer Wolf just where he wanted him. Brer Wolf make all kinds of whining entreaties for Brer Rabbit to let him out, but it wasn't no better for him. Brer Rabbit made a fine stew of Brer Wolf, and eat applesauce and peaches along with him. After this he went after fruit whenever he got ready, without fear of being caught by Brer Wolf. Virginia,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 35, no. 137 (July - September, 1922), pp. 250-327. This tale is no. 17 (pp. 267-69) in Bacon's and Parsons' collection.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,The Awful Fate of Mr. Wolf,African-American,NA,"Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings (New York: McKinlay, Stone, and Mackenzie, 1908) no. 13, pp. 62-68.","Brer Rabbit could never get any peace. He couldn't leave home without Brer Wolf making a raid and toting off some of the family. Brer Rabbit built himself a straw house, and it was torn down. Then a made a house out of pine tops, and that went the same way. Then he made himself a bark house, and it was raided. And every time he lost a house, he lost one of his children. At last Brer Rabbit got mad, he did, and cussed, and then he went off, he did, and got some carpenters, and they built him a plank house with a rock foundation. After that he could have some peace and quiet. He could go out and pass the time of day with his neighbors, and come back and sit by the fire and smoke his pipe and read the newspapers the same as any man who has a family. He made a hole, he did, in the cellar where the little rabbits could hide out when there was much of a racket in the neighborhood, and the latch of the front door caught on the inside. Brer Wolf, he saw the lay of the land, he did, and he laid low. The little rabbits were mighty skittish, but it got so that cold chills didn't run up Brer Rabbit's back any more when he heard Brer Wolf go galloping by. By and by, one day when Brer Rabbit was fixing to call on Miss Coon, he heard a monstrous fuss and clatter up the big road, and almost before he could fix his ears to listen, Brer Wolf ran in the door. The little rabbits, they went into the hole in the cellar, they did, like blowing out a candle. Brer Wolf was fairly covered with mud, and mighty well nigh out of wind. 'Oh, do pray save me, Brer Rabbit!' said Brer Wolf. 'Do please, Brer Rabbit! The dogs are after me, and they'll tear me up. Don't you hear them coming? O, do please save me, Brer Rabbit! Hide me somewhere the dogs won't get me.' No quicker said than done. 'Jump in that chest there, Brer Wolf,' said Brer Rabbit. 'Jump in there and make yourself at home.' In jumped Brer Wolf, down came the lid, and into the hasp went the hook, and there Mr. Wolf was. Then Brer Rabbit went to the looking-glass, he did, and winked at himself. And then he pulled the rocking chair in front of the fire, he did, and took a big chew of tobacco. Then Brer Rabbit sat there a long time, he did, turning his mind over and working his thinking machine. By and by he got up and sort of stirred around. Then Brer Wolf opened up, 'Are the dogs all gone, Brer Rabbit?' 'It seems like I hear one of them smelling around the chimney corner just now.' Then Brer Rabbit got the kettle and filled it full of water and put it on the fire. 'What are you doing now, Brer Rabbit?' 'I'm fixing to make you a nice cup of tea, Brer Wolf.' Then Brer Rabbit went to the cupboard and got the gimlet, and commenced to bore little holes in the chest lid. 'What are you doing now, Brer Rabbit?' 'I'm boring little holes so you can breathe, Brer Wolf.' Then Brer Rabbit went out and got some more wood, and flung it on the fire. 'What are you doing now, Brer Rabbit?' 'I'm chunking up the fire so you won't get cold, Brer Wolf.' Then Brer Rabbit went down into the cellar and fetched out all his children. 'What are you doing now, Brer Rabbit?' 'I'm telling my children what a nice man you are, Brer Wolf.' And the children, they had to put their hands on their mouth to keep from laughing. Then Brer Rabbit, he got the kettle and commenced to pour the hot water onto the chest lid. 'What's that I hear, Brer Rabbit?' 'You hear the wind a-blowing, Brer Wolf.' Then the water began to sift through. 'What's that I feel, Brer Rabbit?' 'You feel the fleas a-biting, Brer Wolf.' 'They are biting might hard, Brer Rabbit.' 'Turn over on the other side, Brer Wolf.' 'What's that I feel now, Brer Rabbit?' 'You still feel the fleas, Brer Wolf.' 'They are eating me up, Brer Rabbit.' And those were the last words of Brer Wolf, because the scalding water did the business. Then Brer Rabbit called in his neighbors, he did, and they held a regular jubilee. And if you go to Brer Rabbit's house right now, I don't know but what you'll find Brer Wolf's hide hanging in the back porch, and all because he was so busy with other folks's doings.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,The Fox and the Geese,England,NA,"A Treasury of Pleasure Books for Young People, [edited by J. Cundall] (London: Sampson, Low, and Son, 1856), no. 11. Each story in this collection is paginated separately.","'There's a Mr. Fox,' said she, 'that I know, Who lives in a covert hard by, To our race he has proved a deadly foe, So beware of his treachery.' Build houses, ere long, of stone or of bricks, And get tiles for your roofs, I pray; For I know, of old, Mr. Reynard's tricks, And I fear he may come any day.' Thus saying, she died, and her daughters fair, -- Gobble, Goosey, and Ganderee, -- Agreed together, that they would beware Of Mr. Fox, their enemy. But Gobble, the youngest, I grieve to say, Soon came to a very bad end, Because she preferred her own silly way, And would not to her mother attend. For she made, with some boards, an open nest, For a roof took the lid of a box; Then quietly laid herself down to rest, And thought she was safe from the Fox. But Reynard, in taking an evening run, Soon scented the goose near the pond; Thought he, ' Now I'll have some supper and fun, For of both I am really fond.' Then on to the box he sprang in a trice, And roused Mrs. Gobble from bed; She only had time to hiss once or twice Ere he snapped off her lily-white head. Her sisters at home felt anxious and low When poor Gobble did not appear, And Goosey, determined her fate to know, Went and sought all the field far and near. At last she descried poor Gobble's head, And some feathers not far apart, So she told Ganderee she had found her dead, And they both felt quite sad at heart. Now Goosey was pretty, but liked her own way, Like Gobble, and some other birds.' 'Tis no matter,' said she, 'if I only obey A part of my mother's last words.' So her house she soon built of nice red brick, But she only thatched it with straw; And she thought that, however the fox might kick, He could not get e'en a paw. So she went to sleep, and at dead of night She heard at the door a low scratch; And presently Reynard, with all his might, Attempted to jump on the thatch. But he tumbled back, and against the wall Grazed his nose in a fearful way, Then, almost mad with the pain of his fall, He barked, and ran slowly away. So Goosey laughed, and felt quite o'erjoyed To have thus escaped from all harm; But had she known how the Fox was employed, She would have felt dreadful alarm; For Gobble had been his last dainty meat, So hungry he really did feel, -- And resolved in his mind to accomplish this feat, And have the young goose for a meal. So he slyly lighted a bundle of straws, And made no more noise than a mouse, Then lifted himself up on his hind paws, And quickly set fire to the house. 'Twas soon in a blaze, and Goosey awoke, With fright almost ready to die, And, nearly smothered with heat and with smoke, Up the chimney was forced to fly. The Fox was rejoiced to witness her flight, And, heedless of all her sad groans, He chased her until he saw her alight, Then eat her up all but her bones. Poor Ganderee's heart was ready to break When the sad news reached her ear. ''Twas that villain the Fox,' said good Mr. Drake, Who lived in a pond very near. 'Now listen to me, I pray you,' he said, 'And roof your new house with some tiles, Or you, like your sisters, will soon be dead, -- A prey to your enemy's wiles.' So she took the advice of her mother and friend, And made her house very secure, Then she said, -- 'Now, whatever may be my end, The Fox cannot catch me, I'm sure.' He called at her door the very next day, And loudly and long did he knock, But she said to him, -- 'Leave my house, I pray, For the door I will not unlock; 'For you've killed my sisters I know full well, And you wish that I too were dead.' 'Oh dear,' said the Fox, ' I can't really tell Who put such a thought in your head: 'For I've always liked geese more than other birds, And you of your race I've loved best.' But the Goose ne'er heeded his flattering words, So hungry he went to his rest. Next week she beheld him again appear, 'Let me in very quick,' he cried, 'For the news I've to tell you'll be charmed to hear, And 'tis rude to keep me outside.' But the Goose only opened one window-pane, And popped out her pretty red bill, Said she, 'Your fair words are all in vain, But talk to me here if you will.' 'Tomorrow,' he cried, ' there will be a fair, All the birds and the beasts will go; So allow me, I pray, to escort you there, For you will be quite charmed I know.' 'Many thanks for your news,' said Ganderee, 'But I had rather not go with you; I care not for any gay sight to see,' -- So the window she closed, and withdrew. In the morning, howe'er, her mind she changed, And she thought she would go to the fair; So her numerous feathers she nicely arranged, And cleaned her red bill with much care. She went, I believe, before it was light, For of Reynard she felt much fear; So quickly she thought she would see each sight, And return ere he should appear. When the Goose arrived she began to laugh At the wondrous creatures she saw; There were dancing bears, and a tall giraffe, And a beautiful red macaw. A monkey was weighing out apples and roots; An ostrich, too, sold by retail; There were bees and butterflies tasting the fruits, And a pig drinking out of a pail. Ganderee went into an elephant's shop, And quickly she bought a new churn; For, as it grew late, she feared to stop, As in safety she wished to return. Ere, however, she got about half the way, She saw approaching her foe; And now she hissed with fear and dismay, For she knew not which way to go. But at last of a capital plan she bethought, Of a place where she safely might hide; She got into the churn that she had just bought, And then fastened the lid inside. The churn was placed on the brow of a hill, And with Ganderee's weight down it rolled, Passing the Fox, who stood perfectly still, Quite alarmed, though he was very bold. For the Goose's wings flapped strangely about, And the noise was fearful to hear; And so bruised she felt she was glad to get out, When she thought that the coast was clear. So safely she reached her own home at noon, And the Fox ne'er saw her that day; But after the fair he came very soon, And cried out in a terrible way, -- 'Quick, quick, let me in! oh, for once be kind, For the huntsman's horn I hear; Oh, hide me in any snug place you can find, For the hunters and hounds draw near.' So the Goose looked out in order to see Whether Reynard was only in jest; Then, knowing that he in her power would be, She opened the door to her guest. 'I'll hide you,' she said, ' in my nice new churn.' 'That will do very well,' said he; 'And thank you for doing me this good turn, Most friendly and kind Ganderee.' Then into the churn the Fox quickly got; But, ere the Goose put on the top, A kettle she brought of water quite hot, And poured in every drop. Then the Fox cried out, 'O! I burn, I burn, And I feel in a pitiful plight;' But the Goose held fast the lid of the churn, So Reynard he died that night.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,The Fox and the Pixies,England,"The anonymous author of this account does not give it a title. Katherine M. Briggs includes a version of this story in her A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, part A, vol. 2 (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1970), pp. 528-30.","English Forests and Forest Trees: Historical, Legendary, and Descriptive (London: Ingram, Cooke, and Company, 1853), pp. 189-90.","Another singular story is told on Dartmoor: There was once a fox, who, prowling by night in search of prey, came unexpectedly on a colony of pixies. Each pixy had a separate house. The first he came to was a wooden house. 'Let me in, let me in,' said the fox. 'I won't,' was the pixy's answer; 'and the door is fastened.' Upon this the fox climbed to the top of the house; and having pawed it down, made a meal of the unfortunate pixy. The next was a 'stonen' house. 'Let me in,' said the fox. 'The door is fastened,' answered the pixy. Again was the house pulled down, and its inmate eaten. The third was an iron house. The fox again craved admittance, and was again refused. 'But I bring you good news,' said the fox. 'No, no,' replied the pixy; 'I know what you want; you shall not come in here tonight.' That house the fox in vain attempted to destroy. It was too strong for him, and he went away in despair. But he returned the next night, and exerted all his fox-like qualities in the hope of deceiving the pixy. For some time he tried in vain ; until at last he mentioned a tempting field of turnips in the neighborhood, to which he offered to conduct his intended victim. They agreed to meet the next morning at four o'clock. But the pixy outwitted the fox; for he found his way to the field, and returned laden with his turnips long before the fox was astir. The fox was greatly vexed, and was long unable to devise another scheme, until he bethought himself of a great fair about to be held a short way off, and proposed to the pixy that they should set off for it at three in the morning. The pixy agreed. But the fox was again outwitted; for he was only up in time to meet the pixy returning home with his fairings: a clock, a crock, and a frying pan. The pixy, who saw the fox coming, got into the crock and rolled himself down the hill ; and the fox, unable to find him, abandoned the scent and went his way. The fox returned the next morning; and finding the door open went in, when he caught the pixy in bed, put him into a box, and locked him in. 'Let me out,' said the pixy, ' and I will tell you a wonderful secret.' The fox was after a time persuaded to lift the cover; and the pixy, coming out, threw such a charm upon him that he was compelled to enter the box in his turn; and there at last he died. (London: Ingram, Cooke, and Company, 1853), pp. 189-90. Katherine M. Briggs includes a version of this story in her A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language, part A, vol. 2 (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1970), pp. 528-30.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,The Story of the Pigs,African-American,NA,"Joel Chandler Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus: Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, 1883), no. 8, pp. 38-43.","One time, away back yonder, the old sow and her children were all living longer than the other creatures. It seems to me that the old sow was a widow-woman, and if I am not mistaken, that that she had five children. Let me see, there was Big Pig, and there was Little Pig, and there was Speckled Pig, and there was Blunt, and last and lonesome, there was Runt. One day this here pig mother, she knew that she was going to kick the bucket, and she took and called up all her children and told them that the time had come when they had to look out for themselves. And then she up and told them as good as she could, although her breath was mighty scant, about what a bad man old Brer Wolf was. She said that if they could escape from old Brer Wolf, they'd be doing monstrously well. Big Pig allowed that she wasn't afraid. Speckled Pig allowed that she wasn't afraid. Blunt, he said that he was almost as big a man as Brer Wolf himself. And Runt, she just took and rooted around in the straw and grunted. But old Widow Sow, she lay there, she did, and kept on telling them that they had better keep their eyes on Brer Wolf, because he was a very mean and deceitful man. Not long after that, sure enough, old Miss Sow lay down and died, and all of those children of hers were flung back on themselves, and they whirled in, they did, and each one built himself a house to live in. Big Pig, she took and built herself a house out of brush. Little Pig, she took and built a stick house. Speckled Pig, she took and built a mud house. Blunt, he took and built a plank house. And Runt, she didn't make any great to-do, and no great brags, but she went to work, she did, and built a rock house. By and by, when they had everything fixed up, and matters were sort of settled, early one morning here came old Brer Wolf licking his chops and shaking his tail. The first house he came to was Big Pig's house. Brer Wolf walked up to the door, he did, and he knocked sort of softly, blim! blim! blim! Nobody answered. Then he knocked loudly, blam! blam! blam! This woke up Big Pig, and she came to the door, and she asked who it was. Brer Wolf allowed it was a friend, and he sang out: Big Pig asked again who it was, and then Brer Wolf up and said, 'How's your ma?' 'My ma is dead,' she said, 'and before she died, she told me to keep my eyes on Brer Wolf. I see you through the crack in the door, and you look mighty like Brer Wolf.' Then old Brer Wolf, he drew a long breath, like he felt very bad, and then he up and said, 'I don't know what changed her mind, unless she was out of her head. I heard tell that old Miss Sow was sick, and I said to myself that I'd ought to drop around and see how the old lady is, and fetch her this here bag of roasting ears. I know might well that if your ma was here right now, in her right mind, she'd take the roasting ears and be glad to get them, and more than that, she'd ask me in by the fire to warm my hands,' said old Brer Wolf. The talk about the roasting ears made Big Pig's mouth water, and by and by, after some more palaver, she opened the door and let Brer Wolf in, and bless your soul, that was the last of Big Pig. She didn't have time to squeal, or to grunt either, before Brer Wolf gobbled her up. The next day old Brer Wolf put up the same game on Little Pig. He went and sang his song, and Little Pig, she took and let him in, and then Brer Wolf, he took and returned the compliments and let Little Pig in. Little Pig, she let Brer Wolf in, and Brer Wolf, he let Little Pig in, and what more can you ask than that? The next time Brer Wolf paid a call, he dropped in on Speckled Pig, and rapped at the door, and sang his song: But Speckled Pig, she kind of suspected something, and she refused to open the door. Yet Brer Wolf was a mighty deceitful man, and he talked mighty soft, and he talked mighty sweet. By and by, he got his nose in the crack of the door, and he said to Speckled Pig, to just let him get one paw in, and then he won't go any further. He got the paw in, and then he begged to get the other paw in, and then when he got that in, he begged to get his head in, and then when he got his head in, and his paws in, of course all he had to do was to shove the door open and walk right in. And when matters stood that way, it wasn't long before he made fresh meat of Speckled Pig. The next day, he did away with Blunt, and the day after that he allowed that he would make a pass at Runt. Now then, right there is where old Brer Wolf slipped up. He is like some folks I know. He'd have been mighty smart, if he hadn't been too smart. Runt was the littlest one of the whole gang, yet all the same, the news was out that she was pestered with sense like grown folks. Brer Wolf, he crept up to Runt's house, and he got underneath the window, he did, and he sang out: Runt, she sat by the fire, she did, and sort of scratched her ear, and hollered out, 'Who's that?' 'It's Speckled Pig,' said old Brer Wolf, between a snort and a grunt. 'I fetched you some peas for your dinner!' Runt, she took and laughed, she did, and hollered back, 'Sis Speckled Pit never talked through that many teeth.' Brer Wolf went off again, and by and by he came back and knocked. Runt, she sat on a rock and hollered out, 'Who's that?' 'Big Pig,' said Brer Wolf. I fetched some sweet corn for your supper.' Runt, she looked through the crack underneath the door, and laughed, and said, 'Sis Big Pig didn't ever have any hair on her hooves. Then old Brer Wolf, he got mad, he did, and he said he was going to come down the chimney. And Runt, she said that that was the only way that he could get in. And then when she heard Brer Wolf climbing up on the outside of the chimney, she took and piled up a whole lot of broom straw in front of the hearth, and when she heard him climbing down on the inside, she took the tongs and shoved the straw onto the fire, and the smoke made Brer Wolf's head swim, and he dropped down, and before he knew it, he was burned to a crackling. And that was the last of old Brer Wolf. At least it was the last of that Brer Wolf.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,The Story of the Three Little Pigs,England,"Jacobs' source: An earlier edition of James Orchard Halliwell, The Nursery Rhymes of England (London and New York: Frederick Warne and Company, 1886), pp. 37-41. This author is also known by the name James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps.","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), no. 14, pp. 68-72.","Once upon a time when pigs spoke rhyme And monkeys chewed tobacco, And hens took snuff to make them tough, And ducks went quack, quack, quack, O! There was an old sow with three little pigs, and as she had not enough to keep them, she sent them out to seek their fortune. The first that went off met a man with a bundle of straw, and said to him, 'Please, man, give me that straw to build me a house.' Which the man did, and the little pig built a house with it. Presently came along a wolf, and knocked at the door, and said, 'Little pig, little pig, let me come in.' To which the pig answered, 'No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.' The wolf then answered to that, 'Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in.' So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew his house in, and ate up the little pig. The second little pig met a man with a bundle of furze [sticks], and said, 'Please, man, give me that furze to build a house.' Which the man did, and the pig built his house. Then along came the wolf, and said, 'Little pig, little pig, let me come in.' 'No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.' 'Then I'll puff, and I'll huff, and I'll blow your house in.' So he huffed, and he puffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and at last he blew the house down, and he ate up the little pig. The third little pig met a man with a load of bricks, and said, 'Please, man, give me those bricks to build a house with.' So the man gave him the bricks, and he built his house with them. So the wolf came, as he did to the other little pigs, and said, 'Little pig, little pig, let me come in.' 'No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.' 'Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in.' Well, he huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and huffed; but he could not get the house down. When he found that he could not, with all his huffing and puffing, blow the house down, he said, 'Little pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips.' 'Where?' said the little pig. 'Oh, in Mr. Smith's home field, and if you will be ready tomorrow morning I will call for you, and we will go together and get some for dinner.' 'Very well,' said the little pig, 'I will be ready. What time do you mean to go?' 'Oh, at six o'clock.' Well, the little pig got up at five, and got the turnips before the wolf came (which he did about six) and who said, 'Little pig, are you ready?' The little pig said, 'Ready! I have been and come back again, and got a nice potful for dinner.' The wolf felt very angry at this, but thought that he would be up to the little pig somehow or other, so he said, 'Little pig, I know where there is a nice apple tree.' 'Where?' said the pig. 'Down at Merry Garden,' replied the wolf, 'and if you will not deceive me I will come for you, at five o'clock tomorrow and get some apples.' Well, the little pig bustled up the next morning at four o'clock, and went off for the apples, hoping to get back before the wolf came; but he had further to go, and had to climb the tree, so that just as he was coming down from it, he saw the wolf coming, which, as you may suppose, frightened him very much. When the wolf came up he said, 'Little pig, what! Are you here before me? Are they nice apples?' 'Yes, very,' said the little pig. 'I will throw you down one.' And he threw it so far, that, while the wolf was gone to pick it up, the little pig jumped down and ran home. The next day the wolf came again, and said to the little pig, 'Little pig, there is a fair at Shanklin this afternoon. Will you go?' 'Oh yes,' said the pig, 'I will go. What time shall you be ready?' 'At three,' said the wolf. So the little pig went off before the time as usual, and got to the fair, and bought a butter churn, which he was going home with, when he saw the wolf coming. Then he could not tell what to do. So he got into the churn to hide, and by so doing turned it around, and it rolled down the hill with the pig in it, which frightened the wolf so much, that he ran home without going to the fair. He went to the pig's house, and told him how frightened he had been by a great round thing which came down the hill past him. Then the little pig said, 'Ha, I frightened you, then. I had been to the fair and bought a butter churn, and when I saw you, I got into it, and rolled down the hill.' Then the wolf was very angry indeed, and declared he would eat up the little pig, and that he would get down the chimney after him. When the little pig saw what he was about, he hung on the pot full of water, and made up a blazing fire, and, just as the wolf was coming down, took off the cover, and in fell the wolf; so the little pig put on the cover again in an instant, boiled him up, and ate him for supper, and lived happily ever afterwards.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,The Three Goslings,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 86, pp. 267-270.","Once upon a time there were three goslings who were greatly afraid of the wolf, for if he found them he would eat them. One day the largest said to the other two, 'Do you know what I think? I think we had better build a little house, so that the wolf shall not eat us, and meanwhile let us go and look for something to build the house with.' Then the other two said, 'Yes, yes, yes! Good! Let us go!' So they went and found a man who had a load of straw and said to him, 'Good man, do us the favor to give us a little of that straw to make a house of, so that the wolf shall not eat us.' The man said, 'Take it, take it!' And he gave them as much as they wanted. The goslings thanked the man and took the straw and went away to a meadow, and there they built a lovely little house, with a door, and balconies, and kitchen, with everything, in short. When it was finished, the largest gosling said, 'Now I want to see whether one is comfortable in this house.' So she went in and said, 'Oh! How comfortable it is in the house! Just wait!' She went and locked the door with a padlock, and went out on the balcony and said to the other two goslings, 'I am very comfortable alone here. Go away, for I want nothing to do with you.' The two poor little goslings began to cry and beg their sister to open the door and let them in. If she did not, the wolf would eat them. But she would not listen to them. Then the two goslings went away and found a man who had a load of hay. They said to him, 'Good man, do us the kindness to give us a little of that hay to build a house with, so that the wolf shall not eat us!' 'Yes, yes, yes! Take some, take some!' And he gave them as much as they The goslings, well pleased, thanked the man and carried the hay to a meadow and built a very pretty little house, prettier than the other. The middle-sized gosling said the smallest, 'Listen. I am going now to see whether one is comfortable in this house. But I will not act like our sister, you know!' She entered the house and said to herself, 'Oh! How comfortable it is here! I don't want my sister! I am very comfortable here alone.' So she went and fastened the door with a padlock, and went out on the balcony and said to her sister, 'Oh! How comfortable it is in this house! I don't want you here! Go away, go away!' The gosling began to weep and beg her sister to open to her, for she was alone, and did not know where to go, and if the wolf found her he would eat her. But it did no good. She shut the balcony and stayed in the house. Then the gosling, full of fear, went away and found a man who had a load of iron and stones and said to him, 'Good man, do me the favor to give me a few of those stones and a little of that iron to build me a house with, so that the wolf shall not eat me!' The man pitied the gosling so much that he said, 'Yes, yes, good gosling, or rather I will build your house for you.' Then they went away to a meadow, and the man built a very pretty house, with a garden and everything necessary, and very strong, for it was lined with iron, and the balcony and door of iron also. The gosling, well pleased, thanked the man and went into the house and remained there. Now let us go to the wolf. The wolf looked everywhere for these goslings, but could not find them. After a time he learned that they had built three houses. 'Good, good! he said. 'Wait until I find you!' Then he started out and journeyed and journeyed until he came to the meadow where the first house was. He knocked at the door, and the gosling said, 'Who is knocking at the door?' 'Come, come,' said the wolf. 'Open up, for it is I.' 'The gosling said, 'I will not open for you, because you will eat me.' 'Open, open! I will not eat you. Be not afraid. Very well, ' said the wolf, 'if you will not open the door, I will blow down your house.' And indeed, he did blow down the house and ate up the gosling. 'Now that I have eaten one,' he said, 'I will eat the others too.' Then he went away and came at last to the house of the second gosling, and everything happened as to the first. The wolf blew down the house and ate the gosling. Then he went in search of the third, and when he found her he knocked at the door, but she would not let him in. Then he tried to blow the house down, but could not. Then he climbed on the roof and tried to trample the house down, but in vain. 'Very well,' he said to himself. 'In one way or another I will eat you.' Then he came down from the roof and said to the gosling, 'Listen, gosling. Do you wish us to make peace? I don't want to quarrel with you who are so good, and I have thought that tomorrow we will cook some macaroni, and I will bring the butter and cheese, and you will furnish the flour.' 'Very good,' said the gosling. 'Bring them then.' The wolf, well satisfied, saluted the gosling and went away. The next day the gosling got up early and went and bought the meal and then returned home and shut the house. A little later the wolf came and knocked at the door and said, 'Come, gosling, open the door, for I have brought you the butter and cheese!' 'Very well, give it to me here by the balcony.' 'No indeed, open the door!' 'I will open when all is ready.' Then the wolf gave her the things by the balcony and went away. While he was gone the gosling prepared the macaroni, and put it on the fire to cook in a kettle full of water. When it was two o'clock the wolf came and said, 'Come, gosling, open the door.' 'No, I will not open, for when I am busy I don't want anyone in the way. When it is cooked, I will open, and you may come in and eat it.' A little while after, the gosling said to the wolf, 'Would you like to try a bit of macaroni to see whether it is well cooked?' 'Open the door! That is the better way.' 'No, no. Don't think you are coming in. Put your mouth to the hole in the shelf, and I will pour the macaroni down.' The wolf, all greedy as he was, put his mouth to the hole, and then the gosling took the kettle of boiling water and poured the boiling water instead of the macaroni through the hole into the wolf's mouth. And the wolf was scalded and killed. Then the gosling took a knife and cut open the wolf's stomach, and out jumped the other goslings, who were still alive, for the wolf was so greedy that he had swallowed them whole. Then there goslings begged their sister's pardon for the mean way in which they had treated her, and she, because she was kindhearted, forgave them and took them into her house, and there they ate their macaroni and lived together happy and contented. Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
124,The Three Little Pigs,England,"Lang does not give his source, but this version appears to be a revision of the Halliwell story reproduced above, rewritten to meet the didactic expectations of Victorian England (and America).","Andrew Lang, The Green Fairy Book, 7th impression (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1906), pp. 100-105. This book first appeared ca. 1892.","There was once upon a time a pig who lived with her three children on a large, comfortable, old-fashioned farmyard. The eldest of the little pigs was called Browny, the second Whitey, and the youngest and best looking Blacky. Now Browny was a very dirty little pig, and, I am sorry to say, spent most of his time rolling and wallowing about in the mud. He was never so happy as on a wet day, when the mud in the farmyard got soft, and thick, and slab. Then he would steal away from his mother's side, and finding the muddiest place in the yard, would roll about in it and thoroughly enjoy himself. His mother often found fault with him for this, and would shake her head sadly and say, 'Ah, Browny! Some day you will be sorry that you did not obey your old mother.' But no words of advice or warning could cure Browny of his bad habits. Whitey was quite a clever little pig, but she was greedy. She was always thinking of her food, and looking forward to her dinner. And when the farm girl was seen carrying the pails across the yard, she would rise up on her hind legs and dance and caper with excitement. As soon as the food was poured into the trough she jostled Blacky and Browny out of the way in her eagerness to get the best and biggest bits for herself. Her mother often scolded her for her selfishness, and told her that someday she would suffer for being so greedy and grabbing. Blacky was a good, nice little pig, neither dirty nor greedy. He had nice dainty ways (for a pig), and his skin was always as smooth and shining as black satin. He was much cleverer than Browny and Whitey, and his mother's heart used to swell with pride when she heard the farmer's friends say to each other that someday the little black fellow would be a prize pig. Now the time came when the mother pig felt old and feeble and near her end. One day she called the three little pigs round her and said, 'My children, I feel that I am growing old and weak, and that I shall not live long. Before I die I should like to build a house for each of you, as this dear old sty in which we have lived so happily will be given to a new family of pigs, and you will have to turn out. Now, Browny, what sort of a house would you like to have?' 'A house of mud,' replied Browny, looking longingly at a wet puddle in the corner of the yard. 'And you, Whitey?' said the mother pig in rather a sad voice, for she was disappointed that Browny had made so foolish a choice. 'A house of cabbage,' answered Whitey, with a mouth full, and scarcely raising her snout out of the trough in which she was grubbing for some potato parings. 'Foolish, foolish child!' said the mother pig, looking quite distressed. 'And you, Blacky?' turning to her youngest son. 'What sort of a house shall I order for you?' 'A house of brick, please mother, as it will be warm in winter and cool in summer, and safe all the year round.' 'That is a sensible little pig,' replied his mother, looking fondly at him. 'I will see that the three houses are got ready at once. And now one last piece of advice. You have heard me talk of our old enemy the fox. When he hears that I am dead, he is sure to try and get hold of you, to carry you off to his den. He is very sly and will no doubt disguise himself, and pretend to be a friend, but you must promise me not to let him enter your houses on any pretext whatever.' And the little pigs readily promised, for they had always had a great fear of the fox, of whom they had heard many terrible tales. A short time afterwards the old pig died, and the little pigs went to live in their own houses. Browny was quite delighted with his soft mud walls and with the clay floor, which soon looked like nothing but a big mud pie. But that was what Browny enjoyed, and he was as happy as possible, rolling about all day and making himself in such a mess. One day, as he was lying half asleep in the mud, he heard a soft knock at his door, and a gentle voice said, 'May I come in, Master Browny? I want to see your beautiful new house.' 'Who are you?' said Browny, starting up in great fright, for though the voice sounded gentle, he felt sure it was a feigned voice, and he feared it was the fox. 'I am a friend come to call on you,' answered the voice. 'No, no,' replied Browny, 'I don't believe you are a friend. You are the wicked fox, against whom our mother warned us. I won't let you in.' 'Oho! Is that the way you answer me?' said the fox, speaking very roughly in his natural voice. 'We shall soon see who is master here,' and with his paws he set to work and scraped a large hole in the soft mud walls. A moment later he had jumped through it, and catching Browny by the neck, flung him on his shoulders and trotted off with him to his den. The next day, as Whitey was munching a few leaves of cabbage out of the corner of her house, the fox stole up to her door, determined to carry her off to join her brother in his den. He began speaking to her in the same feigned gentle voice in which he had spoken to Browny. But it frightend her very much when he said, 'I am a friend come to visit you, and to have some of your good cabbage for my dinner.' 'Please don't touch it,' cried Whitey in great distress. 'The cabbages are the walls of my house, and if you eat them you will make a hole, and the wind and rain will come in and give me a cold. Do go away. I am sure you are not a friend, but our wicked enemy the fox.' And poor Whitey began to whine and to whimper, and to wish that she had not been such a greedy little pig, and had chosen a more solid material than cabbages for her house. But it was too late now, and in another minute the fox had eaten his way through the cabbage walls, and had caught the trembling, shivering Whitey and carried her off to his den. The next day the fox started off for Blacky's house, because he had made up his mind that he would get the three little pigs together in his den, and then kill them, and invite all his friends to a feast. But when he reached the brick house, he found that the door was bolted and barred, so in his sly manner he began, 'Do let me in, dear Blacky. I have brought you a present of some eggs that I picked up in a farmyard on my way here.' 'No, no, Mister Fox,' replied Blacky. 'I am not gong to open my door to you. I know your cunning ways. You have carried off poor Browny and Whitey, but you are not going to get me.' At this the fox was so angry that he dashed with all his force against the wall, and tried to knock it down. But it was too strong and well built. And though the fox scraped and tore at the bricks with his paws, he only hurt himself, and at last he had to give it up, and limp away with his forepaws all bleeding and sore. 'Never mind!' he cried angrily as he went off. 'I'll catch you another day, see if I don't, and won't I grind your bones to powder when I have got you in my den!' And he snarled fiercely and showed his teeth. Next day Blacky had to go into the neighboring town to do some marketing and to buy a big kettle. As he was walking home with it slung over his shoulder, he heard a sound of steps stealthily creeping after him. For a moment his heart stood still with fear, and then a happy thought came to him. He had just reached the top of a hill, and could see his own little house nestling at the foot of it among the trees. In a moment he had snatched the lid off the kettle and had jumped in himself. Coiling himself round, he lay quite snug in the bottom of the kettle, while with his foreleg he managed to put the lid on, so that he was entirely hidden. With a little kick from the inside, he started the kettle off, and down the hill it rolled full tilt. And when the fox came up, all that he saw was a large black kettle spinning over the ground at a great pace. Very much disappointed, he was just going to turn away, when he saw the kettle stop close to the little brick house, and a moment later, Blacky jumped out of it and escaped with the kettle into the housed, when he barred and bolted the door, and put the shutter up over the window. 'Oho!' exclaimed the fox to himself. 'You think you will escape me that way, do you? We shall soon see about that, my friend.' And very quietly and stealthily he prowled round the house looking for some way to climb onto the roof. In the meantime Blacky had filled the kettle with water, and having put it on the fire, sat down quietly waiting for it to boil. Just as the kettle was beginning to sing, and steam to come out of the spout, he heard a sound like a soft, muffled step, patter, patter, patter overhead, and the next moment the fox's head and forepaws were seen coming down the chimney. But Blacky very wisely had not put the lid on the kettle, and, with a yelp of pain, the fox fell into the boiling water, and before he could escape, Blacky had popped the lid on, and the fox was scalded to death. As soon as he was sure that their wicked enemy was really dead, and could do them no further harm, Blacky started off to rescue Browny and Whitey. As he approached the den he heard piteous grunts and squeals from his poor little brother and sister who lived in constant terror of the fox killing and eating them. But when they saw Blacky appear at the entrance to the den, their joy knew no bounds. He quickly found a sharp stone and cut the cords by which they were tied to a stake in the ground, and then all three started off together for Blacky's house, where they lived happily ever after. And Browny quite gave up rolling in the mud, and Whitey ceased to be greedy, for they never forgot how nearly these faults had brought them to an untimely end.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
563,"Table-Be-Set, Gold-Donkey, and Cudgel-out-of-the-Sack","Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm",NA,NA,"There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and only one goat. But as the goat supported all of them with her milk, she was obliged to have good food, and to be taken every day to pasture. The sons did this, in turn. Once the eldest took her to the churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found, and let her eat and run about there. At night when it was time to go home he asked, 'Goat, have you had enough?' The goat answered, 'Come home, then,' said the youth, and took hold of the cord around her neck, led her into the stable, and tied her up securely. 'Well,' said the old tailor, 'has the goat had as much food as she ought?' 'Oh,' answered the son, 'she has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch.' But the father wished to satisfy himself, and went down to the stable, stroked the dear animal, and asked, 'Goat, are you satisfied?' The goat answered, 'What do I hear?' cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said to the youth, 'Hey, you liar, you said the goat had had enough, and have let her hunger.' And in his anger he took the yardstick from the wall, and drove him out with blows. Next day it was the turn of the second son, who sought a place next to the garden hedge where nothing but good herbs grew, and the goat gobbled them all up. At night when he wanted to go home, he asked, 'Goat, are you satisfied?' 'Come home then,' said the youth, and led her home, and tied her up in the stable. 'Well,' said the old tailor, 'has the goat had as much food as she ought?' 'Oh,' answered the son, 'she has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch.' The tailor would not rely on this, but went down to the stable and said, 'Goat, have you had enough?' The goat answered, 'The godless wretch!' cried the tailor, to let such a good animal hunger, and he ran up and drove the youth out of doors with the yardstick. Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do his duty well, and sought out some bushes with the finest leaves, and let the goat devour them. In the evening when he wanted to go home, he asked, 'Goat, have you had enough?' The goat answered, 'Come home then,' said the youth, and led her into the stable, and tied her up. 'Well,' said the old tailor, 'has the goat had her full share of food?' 'She has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch.' The tailor was distrustful, went down, and asked, 'Goat, have you had enough?' The wicked beast answered, 'Oh, the brood of liars!' cried the tailor, 'Each as wicked and forgetful of his duty as the other. You shall no longer make a fool of me!' And quite beside himself with anger, he ran upstairs and tanned the poor young fellow's back so vigorously with the yardstick that he leaped out of the house. The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning he went down into the stable, stroked the goat and said, 'Come, my dear little animal, I myself will take you to feed.' He took her by the rope and led her to green hedges, and amongst yarrow and whatever else goats like to eat. 'Here you may for once eat to your heart's content,' he said to her, and let her browse till evening. Then he asked, 'Goat, are you satisfied?' She answered, 'Come home then,' said the tailor, and led her into the stable, and tied her fast. When he was going away, he turned around again and said, 'Well, are you satisfied for once?' But the goat behaved no better for him, and cried, When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly that he had driven away his three sons without cause. 'Wait, you ungrateful creature,' he cried, 'it is not enough to drive you away, I will brand you so that you will no more dare to show yourself amongst honest tailors.' He quickly ran upstairs, fetched his razor, lathered the goat's head, and shaved her as clean as the palm of his hand. And as the yardstick would have been too honorable for her, he grabbed a whip, and gave her such blows with it that she bounded away with tremendous leaps. When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he fell into great grief, and would gladly have had his sons back again, but no one knew where they were gone. The eldest had apprenticed himself to a joiner, and learned industriously and tirelessly, and when the time came for him to be on his way, his master presented him with a little table which was not particularly beautiful, and was made of common wood, but which had one good property. If anyone set it out, and said, 'table be set,' the good little table was at once covered with a clean little cloth, and a plate was there, and a knife and fork beside it, and dishes with boiled meats and roasted meats, as many as there was room for, and a great glass of red wine shone, so that it made the heart glad. The young journeyman thought, 'With this you have enough for your whole life,' and went joyously about the world and never troubled himself at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything was to be found in it or not. When it suited him, he did not enter an inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood, a meadow, or wherever he fancied, he took his little table off his back, set it down before him, and said, 'table be set,' and then everything appeared that his heart desired. At length he took it into his head to go back to his father, whose anger would now be appeased, and who would now willingly receive him with his magic table. It came to pass that on his way home, he came one evening to an inn which was filled with guests. They bade him welcome, and invited him to sit and eat with them, for otherwise he would have difficulty in getting anything. 'No,' answered the joiner, 'I will not take the few morsels out of your mouths. Rather than that, you shall be my guests.' They laughed, and thought he was jesting with them. He but placed his wooden table in the middle of the room, and said, 'Table be set.' Instantly it was covered with food, so good that the host could never have procured it, and the smell of it ascended pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests. 'Fall to, dear friends,' said the joiner, and the guests when they saw that he meant it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled out their knives and attacked it valiantly. And what surprised them the most was that when a dish became empty, a full one instantly took its place of its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one corner and watched the affair. He did not at all know what to say, but thought, 'You could easily find a use for such a cook as that in your household.' The joiner and his comrades made merry until late into the night. At length they lay down to sleep, and the young journeyman also went to bed, and set his magic table against the wall. The host's thoughts, however, let him have no rest. It occurred to him that there was a little old table in his backroom which looked just like the journeyman's and he brought it out, and carefully exchanged it for the wishing table. Next morning the joiner paid for his bed, took up his table, never thinking that he had got a false one, and went his way. At midday he reached his father, who received him with great joy. 'Well, my dear son, what have you learned?' he said to him. 'Father, I have become a joiner.' 'A good trade,' replied the old man. 'But what have you brought back with you from your apprenticeship?' 'Father, the best thing which I have brought back with me is this little table.' The tailor inspected it on all sides and said, 'You did not make a masterpiece when you made this. It is a bad old table.' 'But it is a table-be-set,' replied the son. 'When I set it out, and tell it to set itself, the most beautiful dishes immediately appear on it, and wine also, which gladdens the heart. Just invite all our relatives and friends. They shall refresh and enjoy themselves for once, for the table will fill them all.' When the company was assembled, he put his table in the middle of the room and said, 'Table be set,' but the little table did not move, and remained just as bare as any other table which does not understand language. Then the poor journeyman became aware that his table had been changed, and was ashamed at having to stand there like a liar. The relatives, however, mocked him, and were forced to go home without having eaten or drunk. The father brought out his scraps again, and went on tailoring, but the son found work with a master joiner. The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed himself to him. When his years were over, the master said, 'As you have conducted yourself so well, I give you a donkey of a peculiar kind, which neither draws a cart nor carries a sack.' 'What good is he then?' asked the young journeyman. 'He spews forth gold,' answered the miller. 'If you set him on a cloth and say 'Bricklebrit,' the good animal will spew forth gold pieces for you from back and front.' 'That is a fine thing,' said the journeyman, and thanked the master, and went out into the world. When he had need of gold, he had only to say 'Bricklebrit' to his donkey, and it rained gold pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick them off the ground. Wherever he went, the best of everything was good enough for him, and the more expensive the better, for he had always a full purse. When he had looked about the world for some time, he thought, 'You must seek out your father. If you go to him with the gold-donkey he will forget his anger, and receive you well.' It came to pass that he came to the same inn in which his brother's table had been exchanged. He led his donkey by the bridle, and the host was about to take the animal from him and tie him up, but the young journeyman said, 'Don't trouble yourself, I will take my nag into the stable, and tie him up myself too, for I must know where he is.' This struck the host as odd, and he thought that a man who was forced to look after his donkey himself, could not have much to spend. But when the stranger put his hand in his pocket and brought out two gold pieces, and said he was to provide something good for him, the host opened his eyes wide, and ran and sought out the best he could muster. After dinner the guest asked what he owed. The innkeeper did not see why he should not double the bill, and said the journeyman must give two more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket, but his gold was just at an end. 'Wait an instant, sir,' said he, 'I will go and fetch some money.' But he took the tablecloth with him. The innkeeper could not imagine what this meant, and being curious, stole after him, and as the guest bolted the stable door, he peeped through a hole left by a knot in the wood. The stranger spread out the cloth under the animal and cried, 'Bricklebrit,' and immediately the beast began to let gold pieces fall from back and front, so that it fairly rained down money onto the ground. 'Eh, my word,' said the innkeeper. 'Ducats are quickly coined there. A purse like that is not bad.' The guest paid his bill and went to bed, but in the night the innkeeper stole down into the stable, led away the master of the mint, and tied up another donkey in his place. Early next morning the journeyman traveled away with his donkey, and thought that he had his gold-donkey. At midday he reached his father, who rejoiced to see him again, and gladly took him in. 'What have you made of yourself, my son?' asked the old man. 'A miller, dear father,' he answered. 'What have you brought back with you from your travels.' 'Nothing else but a donkey.' 'There are donkeys enough here,' said the father, 'I would rather have had a good goat.' 'Yes,' replied the son, 'but it is no common donkey, but a gold-donkey. When I say 'Bricklebrit' the good beast spews forth a whole sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon all our relatives here, and I will make them rich folks.' 'That suits me well,' said the tailor, 'for then I shall have no need to torment myself any longer with the needle,' and he himself ran out and called the relatives together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller bade them make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the donkey into the room. 'Now watch,' said he, and cried, 'Bricklebrit,' but what fell were not gold pieces, and it was clear that the animal knew nothing of the art, for not every donkey attains such perfection. Then the poor miller made a long face, saw that he had been betrayed, and begged pardon of the relatives, who went home as poor as they came. There was no help for it, the old man had to take up his needle once more, and the youth hired himself to a miller. The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner, and as that is skilled labor, he was the longest in learning. His brothers, however, told him in a letter how badly things had gone with them, and how the innkeeper had cheated them of their beautiful wishing gifts on the last evening before they reached home. When the turner had served his time, and was about to set forth, as he had conducted himself so well, his master presented him with a sack saying, 'There is a cudgel in it.' 'I can take the sack with me,' said he, 'and it may serve me well, but why should the cudgel be in it. It only makes it heavy.' 'I will tell you why,' replied the master. 'If anyone has done anything to injure you, do but say, 'Cudgel out of the sack,' and the cudgel will leap forth among the people, and play such a dance on their backs that they will not be able to stir or move for a week. And it will not quit until you say, 'Cudgel into the sack.'' The journeyman thanked him, and put the sack on his back, and when anyone came too near him and wished to attack him, he said, 'Cudgel out of the sack,' and instantly the cudgel sprang out and beat the dust out of their coats and jackets, right on their backs, not waiting until they had taken them off, and it was done so quickly, that before anyone was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening the young turner reached the inn where his brothers had been cheated. He laid his sack on the table before him, and began to talk of all the wonderful things which he had seen in the world. 'Yes,' said he, 'table-be-sets, gold-donkeys, and things of that kind -- extremely good things which I by no means despise -- but these are nothing in comparison with the treasure which I have obtained and am carrying about with me here in my sack.' The innkeeper pricked up his ears. 'What in the world can that be?' he thought. 'The sack must be filled with nothing but jewels. I ought to get them cheap too, for all good things come in threes.' When it was time for sleep, the guest stretched himself out on the bench, laying his sack beneath him for a pillow. When the innkeeper thought his guest was lying in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled quite gently and carefully at the sack to see if he could possibly take it away and lay another in its place. The turner, however, had been waiting for this for a long time, and now just as the innkeeper was about to give a hearty tug, he cried, 'Cudgel out of the sack!' Instantly the little cudgel came forth, and falling on the innkeeper gave him a sound thrashing. The innkeeper cried for mercy, but the louder he cried, the harder the cudgel beat the time on his back, until at length he fell to the ground exhausted. Then the turner said, 'If you do not give back the table-be-set and the gold-donkey, the dance shall start again from the beginning.' 'Oh, no!' cried the innkeeper, quite humbly, 'I will gladly give everything back, only make the accursed kobold creep back into the sack.' Then the journeyman said, 'I will let mercy take the place of justice, but beware of getting into mischief again' Then he cried, 'Cudgel into the sack,' and let him rest. Next morning the turner went home to his father with the table-be-set, and the gold-donkey. The tailor rejoiced when he saw him once more, and asked him likewise what he had learned in foreign parts. 'Dear father,' said he, 'I have become a turner.' 'A skilled trade,' said the father. 'What have you brought back with you from your travels?' 'A precious thing, dear father,' replied the son, 'a cudgel in the sack.' 'What!' cried the father, 'A cudgel! That's worth your trouble! From every tree you can cut yourself one.' 'But not one like this, dear father. If I say, 'Cudgel out of the sack,' the cudgel springs out and leads anyone ill-disposed toward me a weary dance, and never stops until he lies on the ground and prays for fair weather. Look you, with this cudgel have I rescued the table-be-set and the gold-donkey which the thievish innkeeper took away from my brothers. Now let them both be sent for, and invite all our relatives. I will give them to eat and to drink, and will fill their pockets with gold as well.' The old tailor had not much confidence. Nevertheless he summoned the relatives together. Then the turner spread a cloth in the room and led in the gold-donkey, and said to his brother, 'Now, dear brother, speak to him.' The miller said, 'Bricklebrit,' and instantly the gold pieces rained down on the cloth like a cloudburst, and the donkey did not stop until every one of them had so much that he could carry no more. (I can see by your face that you would have liked to be there as well.) Then the turner brought out the little table and said, 'Now, dear brother, speak to it.' And scarcely had the joiner said, 'Table be set,' than it was spread and amply covered with the most exquisite dishes. Then such a meal took place as the good tailor had never yet known in his house, and the whole party of relatives stayed together until after nightfall, and were all merry and glad. The tailor locked his needle and thread and yardstick and pressing iron into a chest, and lived with his three sons in joy and splendor. What, however, happened to the goat who was to blame for the tailor driving out his three sons? That I will tell you. She was ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran to a fox's hole and crept into it. When the fox came home, he was met by two great eyes shining out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran away. A bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he said, 'What is the matter with you, Brother Fox, why do you look like that?' 'Ah,' answered Redskin, 'a fierce beast is in my cave and stared at me with its fiery eyes.' 'We will soon drive him out,' said the bear, and went with him to the cave and looked in, but when he saw the fiery eyes, fear seized on him likewise. He would have nothing to do with the furious beast, and took to his heels. The bee met him, and as she saw that he was ill at ease, she said, 'Bear, you are really pulling a very pitiful face. What has become of all your cheerfulness?' 'It is all very well for you to talk,' replied the bear. 'A furious beast with staring eyes is in Redskin's house, and we can't drive him out.' The bee said, 'Bear, I pity you. I am a poor weak creature whom you would not turn aside to look at, but still, I believe I can help you.' She flew into the fox's cave, lit on the goat's smoothly shorn head, and stung her so violently, that she sprang up, crying 'meh, meh,' and ran forth into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one knows where she has gone.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
563,The Adventures of Juan,Philippines (Tagalog),NA,NA,"Juan was always getting into trouble. He was a lazy boy, and more than that, he did not have good sense. When he tried to do things, he made such dreadful mistakes that he might better not have tried. His family grew very impatient with him, scolding and beating him whenever he did anything wrong. One day his mother, who was almost discouraged with him, gave him a bolo [a long knife] and sent him to the forest, for she thought he could at least cut firewood. Juan walked leisurely along, contemplating some means of escape. At last he came to a tree that seemed easy to cut, and then he drew his long knife and prepared to work. Now it happened that this was a magic tree, and it said to Juan, 'If you do not cut me I will give you a goat that shakes silver from its whiskers.' This pleased Juan wonderfully, both because he was curious to see the goat, and because he would not have to chop the wood. He agreed at once to spare the tree, whereupon the bark separated, and a goat stepped out. Juan commanded it to shake its whiskers, and when the money began to drop, he was so delighted that he took the animal and started home to show his treasure to his mother. On the way he met a friend who was more cunning than Juan, and when he heard of the boy's rich goat he decided to rob him. Knowing Juan's fondness for tuba [fermented coconut juice], he persuaded him to drink, and while he was drunk, the friend substituted another goat for the magic one. As soon as he was sober again, Juan hastened home with the goat and told his people of the wonderful tree, but when he commanded the animal to shake its whiskers, no money fell out. The family, believing it to be another of Juan's tricks, beat and scolded the poor boy. He went back to the tree and threatened to cut it down for lying to him, but the tree said, 'No, do not cut me down, and I will give you a net which you may cast on dry ground, or even in the treetops, and it will return full of fish.' So Juan spared the tree and started home with his precious net, but on the way he met the same friend who again persuaded him to drink tuba. While he was drunk, the friend replaced the magic net with a common one, so that when Juan reached home and tried to show his power, he was again the subject of ridicule. Once more Juan went to his tree, this time determined to cut it down. But the offer of a magic pot, always full of rice, and spoons which provided whatever he wished to eat with his rice, dissuaded him, and he started home happier than ever. Before reaching home, however, he met with the same fate as before, and his folks, who were becoming tired of his pranks, beat him harder than ever. Thoroughly angered, Juan sought the tree a fourth time and was on the point of cutting it down when once more it arrested his attention. After some discussion, he consented to accept a stick to which he had only to say, 'Boombye, Boomba,' and it would beat and kill anything he wished. When he met his friend on this trip, he was asked what he had, and he replied, 'Oh, it is only a stick, but if I say 'Boombye, Boomba' it will beat you to death.' At the sound of the magic words the stick leaped from his hands and began beating his friend until he cried, 'Oh, stop it, and I will give back everything that I stole from you.' Juan ordered the stick to stop, and then he compelled the man to lead the goat and to carry the net and the jar and spoons to his home. There Juan commanded the goat, and it shook its whiskers until his mother and brothers had all the silver they could carry. Then they ate from the magic jar and spoons until they were filled. And this time Juan was not scolded. After they had finished Juan said, 'You have beaten me and scolded me all my life, and now you are glad to accept my good things. I am going to show you something else, 'Boombye, Boomba.'' Immediately the stick leaped out and beat them all until they begged for mercy and promised that Juan should ever after be head of the house. From that time Juan was rich and powerful, but he never went anywhere without his stick. One night, when some thieves came to his house, he would have been robbed and killed had it not been for the magic words 'Boombye, Boomba,' which caused the death of all the robbers. Some time after this he married a beautiful princess, and because of the kindness of the magic tree they always lived happily. Return to D. L. Ashliman's index of folklore and mythology electronic texts.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
563,The Ass That Lays Money,Italy,NA,NA,"There was once a poor widow with an only son, and whose brother-in-law was a steward. One day she said to her child, 'Go to your uncle and ask him to give you something to keep you from starving.' The boy went to the farm and asked his uncle to help him a little. 'We are dying of hunger, uncle. My mother earns a little by weaving, and I am too small to find anything. Be charitable to us, for we are your relatives.' The steward answered, 'Why not? You should have come sooner, and I would have helped you the sooner. But now I will give you something to support you always, without need of anything more. I will give you this little ass that lays money. You have only to put a cloth under him, and he will fill it for you with handsome coins. But take care! Don't tell it, and don't leave this animal with anyone.' The youth departed in joy, and after he had traveled a long way, he stopped at an inn to sleep, for his house was distant. He said to the landlord, 'Give me a lodging, but look! my ass spends the night with me.' 'What!' said the landlord. 'What are you thinking about! It cannot be.' The youth replied, 'Yes it can be, because my ass does not leave my side.' They disputed a while, but the landlord finally consented. But he had some suspicions; and when the boy and his beast were shut in the room, he looked through the keyhole, and saw that wonder of an ass that laid money in abundance. 'Bless me!' cried the host. 'I should be a fool, indeed, if I let this piece of good fortune escape my hands!' He at once looked for another ass of the same color and size, and while the lad was asleep, exchanged them. In the morning the boy paid his bill and departed, but on the way, the ass no longer laid any money. The stupefied child did not know what to think at first, but afterward examining it more closely, it appeared to him that the ass was not his, and straightway he returned to the innkeeper, to complain of his deception. The landlord cried out, 'I wonder at your saying such a thing! We are all honest people here, and don't steal anything from anybody. Go away, blockhead, or you will find something to remember a while.' The child, weeping, had to depart with his ass, and he went back to his uncle's farm, and told him what had happened. The uncle said, 'If you had not stopped at the innkeeper's, you could not have met with this misfortune. However, I have another present to help you and you mother. But take care! Do not mention it to anyone, and take good care of it. Here it is. I give you a tablecloth, and whenever you say, 'Tablecloth, make ready,' after having spread it out, you will see a fine repast at your pleasure.' The youth took the tablecloth in delight, thanked his uncle, and departed. But like the fool he was, he stopped again at the same inn. He said to the landlord, 'Give you a room, and you need not prepare anything to eat. I have all I want with me.' The crafty innkeeper suspected that there was something beneath this, and when the lad was in his room, he looked through the keyhole, and saw the tablecloth preparing the supper. The host exclaimed, 'What good luck for my inn! I will not let it escape me.' He quickly looked for another tablecloth like this one, with the same embroidery and fringe, and while the child was sleeping, he exchanged it for the magic one, so that in the morning the lad did not perceive the knavery. Not until he had reached a forest where he was hungry, did he want to make use of the tablecloth. But it was in vain that he spread it out and cried, 'Tablecloth, make ready.' The tablecloth was not the same one, and made nothing ready for him. In despair the boy went back to the innkeeper to complain, and the landlord would have thrashed him if he had not run away, and he ran until he reached his uncle's. His uncle, when he saw him in such a plight, said, 'Oh! What is the matter?' 'Uncle!' said the boy, 'the same innkeeper has changed the tablecloth, too, for me.' The uncle was on the point of giving the dunce a good thrashing; but afterward, seeing that it was a child, he calmed his anger, and said, 'I understand. But I will give you a remedy by which you can get back everything from that thief of a landlord. Here it is! It is a stick. Hide it under your bolster, and if anyone comes to rob you of it, say to it, in a low voice, 'Beat, beat!' and it will continue to do so until you say to it, 'Stop.'' Imagine how joyfully the boy took the stick! It was a handsome polished stick, with a gold handle, and delighted one only to see it. So the boy thanked his uncle for his kindness, and after he had journeyed a while, he came to the same inn. He said, 'Landlord, I wish to lodge here tonight.' The landlord at once drew his conclusions about the stick, which the boy carried openly in his hands, and at night when the lad appeared to be sound asleep, but really was on the watch, the landlord felt softly under the bolster and drew out the stick. The boy, although it was dark, perceived the theft, and said in a low voice, 'Beat, beat, beat!' Suddenly blows were rained down without mercy; everything broken to pieces, the chest of drawers, the looking glass, all the chairs, the glass in the windows; and the landlord, and those that came at the noise, beaten nearly to death. The landlord screamed to split his throat, 'Save me, boy, I am dead!' The boy answered, 'What! I will not deliver you, if you do not give me back my property -- the ass that lays gold and the tablecloth that prepares dinner.' And if the landlord did not want to die of the blows, he had to consent to the boy's wishes. When he had his things back, the boy went home to his mother and told her what had happened to him, and then said, 'Now we do not need anything more. I have an ass that lays money, a tablecloth that prepares food at my will, and a stick to defend me from whoever annoys me.' So that woman and her son, who, from want had become rich enough to cause everyone envy, wished from pride to invite their relatives to a banquet, to make them acquainted with their wealth. On the appointed day the relatives came to the woman's new house. But noon strikes, and one o'clock strikes. It is almost two, and in the kitchen the fire is seen extinguished, and there were no provisions anywhere. 'Are they playing a joke on us?' said the relatives. 'We shall have to depart with dry teeth.' At that moment, however, the clock struck two, and the lad, after spreading the cloth on the table, commanded, 'Tablecloth, prepare a grand banquet.' In short, those people had a fine dinner and many presents in money, and the boy and his mother remained in triumph and joy.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
563,The Good-for-Nothing,Georgia,NA,NA,"There was once a good-for-nothing man, who had a shrewish wife. This wife would give him no rest. She importuned him, saying, 'You must go away, travel forth and seek for something. You see how poor we are.' At last the husband could no longer bear her reproaches, so he arose and went. He went forth. He himself knew not whither he was going. He traveled on, and when he had ascended the ninth mountain from where he started, he saw a large house, and in this house devis dwelt. He came near and saw in the middle of the room a fire, round which the devis were sitting, warming their hands. He went in and spoke in a friendly manner to them, and sat down by the fire. The devis treated him well, for he had spoken them fair. He stayed with them by day and by night. He ate with them. He drank with them. He slept with the. He was like their youngest brother. These devis possessed a wishing stone. When they were assembled together, they took out the stone. If they wished for dinner, dinner appeared. If they wanted supper, they wished for supper, and lo! what they wished for heartily appeared before their eyes. They lived thus without care. They had no kind of sorrow, and this was just what our good-for-nothing liked. He approved of this life and wanted to steal the wishing stone. Once when the devis were in a deep sleep, the good-for-nothing silently stole out of the bedroom, took the wishing stone, and came to the door. He wished the door to open, and sure enough it began to creak. It creaked and called out, 'The guest has stolen the wishing stone.' The good-for-nothing turned back, put the stone in its place, went into the bedroom, and pretended to be asleep. The creaking of the door awoke the devis. They jumped up and looked. They found the wishing stone in its place and the good-for-nothing in a sweet slumber. They rejoiced, closed the door, and went to sleep again. When they had fallen into a profound sleep, the good-for-nothing rose up, took the stone, came to the door, and, when he wished it to open, it began to creak out, 'The guest has stolen the wishing stone.' The good-for-nothing turned back, again put the wishing stone in its place, went into the bedroom, and began to snore as if he were asleep. The devis awoke and looked, but the stone was in its place, and the good-for-nothing did this trick over and over again. The devis were angry and furiously jumped up, pulled down the door, and put it in the fire. When the door was burned, and the devis slept again, the good-for-nothing rose up, put the wishing stone in his pocket, and left the house. The next morning, when the devis awoke, they saw that neither the good-for-nothing nor the wishing stone was there any longer. They looked everywhere, but could not tell whether heaven or earth had swallowed them, so they learned nothing. The good-for-nothing went on his way joyfully. He no longer had any care or thought. He rejoiced that now he could live without trouble. He went on, and met on the road a man with a big stick. This man said, 'Brother, give me something to eat.' The good-for-nothing put his hand in his pocket, and took out the wishing stone. He wished, and there appeared before them everything ready for eating. When they had finished their meal, the man with the stick said, 'Come, I will exchange my stick with you for this stone.' 'What is the use of your stick?' inquired the good-for-nothing. 'If anyone stretches out his hand and calls, 'Out, stick!' the stick will fall upon the person in front of its master.' The good-for-nothing made the exchange and went away a short distance. Then he said, 'Out, stick!' and stretched it out towards its former master. It struck him until all his bones were made soft. When he had been well beaten, the good-for-nothing came, took his stone, and went on his way with the stick. He went on and saw a man with a sword, who said, 'Brother, give me something to eat.' The good-for-nothing took out his wishing stone, and immediately meat and drink appeared before them. When he had eaten sufficiently, the man said, 'Come, I will give you this sword in exchange for the stone.' 'What is the use of your sword?' inquired the good-for-nothing.' 'Whoever possesses it can, if he choose, cut off a hundred thousand heads.' He exchanged his wishing stone for the sword, and went away. After waiting a short time, he said, 'Out, stick!' and pointed to the former owner of the sword. The stick approached and beat the man mercilessly. Then the good-for-nothing took the wishing stone and went away. He went on again until he met a man with a piece of felt, who said, 'Brother, give me something to eat.' The good-for-nothing took out his wishing stone, wished, and immediately a delicious repast appeared. When he had eaten all he wanted, the man said, 'Come, I will give you my felt in exchange for this stone.' 'What is the use of your felt?' inquired the good-for-nothing. 'If a man's head is cut off, one only has to take a piece of this felt and apply it. His head will stick on again, and he will live.' The good-for-nothing gave him the stone, took the felt, and went away. When he had gone a little way, he said, 'Out, stick!' and the stick beat the man till he was like a wrinkled quince. The good-for-nothing took his stone and traveled on. At last he came to his home. He placed the stick behind the door, greeted his wife and spoke thus, 'Wife, see what I have brought,' and showed her the sword, felt, and wishing stone. His wife looked on him with contempt, opened her mouth, and cast all the dirt in the world on his head. The good-for-nothing bore it till he could bear it no longer, so he called, 'Out, stick!' The stick beat her woefully. Then he made his little children sit down, took out his wishing stone, wished the table to be laid, and the rarest delicacies were placed on the cloth. They enjoyed their dinner, while the beaten wife silently looked down and sulked. She bore it for a time, but at last she could bear it no longer and came and embraced her husband's knees. Her husband forgave her, and they caressed one another lovingly. After some time, this wishing stone made him quite rich, so that all their dishes were made of gold. Once the wife said to her husband, 'You must invite the king and give him a great banquet.' Her husband said, 'Do you not know, the king is an envious man. When he sees these things, he will take them from us and put us in prison.' His wife pleaded and whined until her husband consented. They invited the king and made ready a magnificent banquet. When the feast was finished, the king demanded the wishing stone. The good-for-nothing said he could not spare it. The king was enraged and sent his whole army to take it away by force. 'This will not do at all,' said the good-for-nothing to himself. 'Since they are going to try and force me, I shall show my strength.' While he spoke, he pointed the sword at the army, and the stick at the king. The heads of all the army were cut off, and the stick beat the envious king. The king begged and prayed for mercy, 'Only bring my soldiers back to life again, and I swear I will leave you in peace.' Then the good-for-nothing arose, took the felt and laid a piece on the neck of each soldier, and the army was restored to life. The king no longer dared to show his enmity, the good-for-nothing's wife obeyed him in everything, and they lived happily ever afterwards.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
563,The Lad Who Went to the North Wind,"Norway, Peter Christian Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe",NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was an old widow who had one son; and as she was poorly and weak, her son had to go up into the storehouse to fetch meal for cooking; but when he got outside the storehouse, and was just going down the steps, there came the North Wind, puffing and blowing, caught up the meal, and so away with it through the air. Then the lad went back into the storehouse for more; but when he came out again on the steps, if the North Wind didn't come again and carry off the meal with a puff; and more than that, he did so the third time. At this the lad got very angry; and as he thought it hard that the North Wind should behave so, he thought he'd just look him up, and ask him to give up his meal. So off he went, but the way was long, and he walked and walked; but at last he came to the North Wind's house. 'Good day!' said the lad, and 'Thank you for coming to see us yesterday.' 'Good day!' answered the North Wind, for his voice was loud and gruff, 'and thanks for coming to see me. What do you want?' 'Oh!' answered the lad, 'I only wished to ask you to be so good as to let me have back that meal you took from me on the storehouse steps, for we haven't much to live on; and if you're to go on snapping up the morsel we have there'll be nothing for it but to starve.' 'I haven't got your meal,' said the North Wind; 'but if you are in such need, I'll give you a cloth which will get you everything you want, if you only say, 'Cloth, spread yourself, and serve up all kind of good dishes!'' With this the lad was well content. But, as the way was so long he couldn't get home in one day, so he turned into an inn on the way; and when they were going to sit down to supper, he laid the cloth on a table which stood in the corner and said, 'Cloth, spread yourself, and serve up all kinds of good dishes.' He had scarce said so before the cloth did as it was bid; and all who stood by thought it a fine thing, but most of all the landlady. So, when all were fast asleep, at dead of night, she took the lad's cloth, and put another in its stead, just like the one he had got from the North Wind, but which couldn't so much as serve up a bit of dry bread. So, when the lad woke, he took his cloth and went off with it, and that day he got home to his mother. 'Now,' said he, 'I've been to the North Wind's house, and a good fellow he is, for he gave me this cloth, and when I only say to it, 'Cloth, spread yourself, and serve up all kind of good dishes,' I get any sort of food I please.' 'All very true, I daresay,' said his mother; 'but seeing is believing, and I shan't believe it till I see it.' So the lad made haste, drew out a table, laid the cloth on it, and said, 'Cloth, spread yourself, and serve up all kind of good dishes.' But never a bit of dry bread did the cloth serve up. 'Well,' said the lad, 'there's no help for it but to go to the North Wind again,' and away he went. So he came to where the North Wind lived late in the afternoon. 'Good evening!' said the lad. 'Good evening!' said the North Wind. 'I want my rights for that meal of ours which you took,' said the lad; 'for as for that cloth I got, it isn't worth a penny.' 'I've got no meal,' said the North Wind; 'but yonder you have a ram which coins nothing but golden ducats as soon as you say to it, 'Ram, ram, make money!'' So the lad thought this a fine thing; but as it was too far to get home that day, he turned in for the night to the same inn where he had slept before. Before he called for anything, he tried the truth of what the North Wind had said of the ram, and found it all right; but when the landlord saw that, he thought it was a famous ram, and, when the lad had fallen asleep, he took another which couldn't coin gold ducats, and changed the two. Next morning off went the lad, and when he got home to his mother, he said, 'After all, the North Wind is a jolly fellow; for now he has given me a ram which can coin golden ducats if I only say, 'Ram, ram, make money!'' 'All very true, I daresay,' said his mother, 'but I shan't believe any such stuff until I see the ducats made.' 'Ram, ram, make money!' said the lad; but if the ram made anything it wasn't money. So the lad went back again to the North Wind, and blew him up, and said the ram was worth nothing, and he must have his rights for the meal. 'Well,' said the North Wind, 'I've nothing else to give you but that old stick in the corner yonder; but it's a stick of that kind that if you say, 'Stick, stick, lay on!' it lays on till you say, 'Stick, stick, now stop!'' So, as the way was long, the lad turned in this night too to the landlord; but as he could pretty well guess how things stood as to the cloth and the ram, he lay down at once on the bench and began to snore, as if he were asleep. Now the landlord, who easily saw that the stick must be worth something, hunted up one which was like it, and when he heard the lad snore, he was going to change the two, but just as the landlord was about to take it, the lad bawled out, 'Stick, stick, lay on!' So the stick began to beat the landlord, till he jumped over chairs and tables and benches, and roared, 'Oh my! Oh my! Bid the stick be still, else it will beat me to death, and you shall have back both your cloth and your ram.' When the lad thought the landlord had got enough, he said, 'Stick, stick, now stop!' Then he took the cloth and put it into his pocket, and went home with his stick in his hand, leading the ram by a cord around its horns, and so he got his rights for the meal he had lost.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
563,The Story of the Ogre,"Italy, Giambattista Basile",NA,NA,"They relate that once in the town of Marigliano there was a respectable woman named Masella, who, besides possessing six marriageable daughters, like six poles, had an only son so churlish and ignorant that he was no good even at the snow game [that is to say, at the simplest of games, like that of throwing snowballs]; so that she was like a sow with a headache in her mouth, and not a day passed without her saying, 'What are you doing in this house, cursed good-for-nothing? Out with you, you great rascal! Clear off, Maccabeus! Vanish, bringer of bad luck! Out of my sight, chestnut eater! Would you had been changed in your cradle and instead of a little boy, of a pretty child, of a fine little lad, I had had a fine great pig!' But with all that, Masella spoke, and he only whistled. Seeing that there was no hope of Antuono (for so was the child called) turning his mind to any good purpose, one fine day she began to wash his head without soap, and seizing a rolling pin started to take the measure of his jacket. Antuono, when he least expected it, finding himself well staked, combed, and lined, took to his heels as soon as he could escape from her hands. So long did he journey that after twenty-four hours, when the little lamps began to illuminate the shops of Cinzia, he arrived at the foot of a mountain so high that it hit the clouds. There, by the roots of a poplar tree, near a grotto worked in pumice stone, was sitting an ogre. Gracious! How hideous he was! His body was dwarfed and deformed with a head bigger than an Indian pumpkin, a forehead full of bumps, eyebrows knitted, squint eyes, a flat nose as big as a millstone, from which came two tusks that reached his ankles, a hairy chest, arms like turning-frames, bandy-legged and broad-footed like a goose. Altogether he resembled a devil, a fiend, a hideous beggar, and an evil spirit incarnate that would have scared an Orlando, alarmed a Scannarebecco, and made the most able swordsman fall into a swoon. But Antuono, who had not moved a sling's throw, nodded to him, and said, 'Good-bye, sir! What's doing? How are you? Don't you want anything? How far is it from here to where I'm going?' The ogre, hearing these ridiculous questions, began to laugh, and as he liked the look of the blockhead, said to him, 'Do you want a master?' Antuono replied, 'How much do you want a month?' And the ogre, 'See that you serve me properly, and we shall come to terms, and you will live like a lord.' So having made this agreement, Antuono entered the service of the ogre, in whose house the food was thrown at you, and as to work, one lived like a sluggard. Thus in four days he got as fat as a Turk, as round as an ox, as bold as a cock, as red as a lobster, as green as garlic, and as large as a whale, and so sturdy and with his skin so stretched that he could hardly open his eyes. Two years had not yet passed when all this abundance began to weary him, and there was born in him a wish and strong urge to pay a visit to Marigliano. And in pining for his little home he wasted away and nearly took on his former appearance. The ogre, who saw into his very entrails and knew of the itch which made him go about like an unsatisfied bride, called him aside and said, 'Antuono, my boy, I know you have a great longing to see your own flesh and blood again. And therefore, as I love you like the apple of my eye, I am well content that you should make this trip and satisfy your wish. Take, therefore, this ass, which will spare you the fatigue of the journey, but by careful not to say 'Hey! Void!' or by the soul of my grandfather, you will be sorry for it.' Antuono took the ass, and without even saying, 'good night' jumped on it and went off at a gallop. He had not gone more than a hundred yards, however, before he dismounted from the beast and cried, 'Hey! Void!' No sooner had he opened his mouth than the little beast began to relieve itself of pearls, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds, each as big as a walnut. Antuono stood with his mouth open a palm's breadth, gazing at this fine discharge, this superb flux, this magnificently rich dysentery of the ass. Then with great rejoicing he filled a wallet with these jewels, climbed once more into the saddle, and setting off with great energy, arrived at an inn. On dismounting, the first thing he said to the innkeeper was, 'Tie up this ass to the manger. Give it plenty to eat; but be careful not to say 'Hey! Void!' or you will regret it. And keep these trifles in a safe place.' The innkeeper, who was one of the 'four of the craft' [the head of a trade corporation], and a master in cunning, when he heard this unexpected warning and saw the jewels worth millions, became curious to learn what effect these words would have. He therefore placed before Antuono an excellent dinner and gave him as much to drink as he could carry, and then had him thrust in between a straw mattress and a rough quilt. As soon as he saw him close his eyes and heard him snoring with all his might, he ran to the stable and said to the ass, 'Hey! Void!' And the ass, with the medicine of these words, carried out the usual operation, relieving itself of a flux of gold and purging of jewels. At the sight of this precious discharge, the innkeeper planned to change asses and gull that idiot of an Antuono, thinking it an easy matter to blind, deceive, bamboozle, perplex, hoodwink, throw dust in the eyes, confound, and fool a hog, blunderer, booby, dolt, simpleton such as was this fellow he had to deal with. Antuono woke up next morning when Aurora went to empty the chamber pot of her old man, full of fine red sand, at the eastern window, and rubbing his eyes with his fists and stretching his arms for half an hour with threescore yawnings and farts by way of accompaniment, called the innkeeper, saying, 'Come here, my friend: a short account and a long friendship. Friends we shall be, and war to the purses. Make out the bill and pay yourself.' Thus with so much for the bread, so much for the wine, this for the broth, that for the meat, five for the stabling, ten for the bed, and fifteen for the tip, he laid out the money. Then taking the false ass with a pouch of pumice stone in place of the precious jewels, he left at a good trot for his own town. Arriving at Marigliano, before setting foot inside his house, he started to cry out, as if stung by nettles, 'Run, mother, run, for we are rich! Unfold towels, spread out sheets, lay down coverlets, for you will now see treasures!' The mother, full of joy, opened the chest where she kept her daughters' trousseaux and took out sheets so fine that they blew away if you but breathed, cloths of sweet-scented linen, coverlets of colors that catch the eye, and made a fine spread. Antuono led in the ass and started so sing out, 'Hey! Void!' But for all the 'Hey! Voids!' he said, the ass took as much notice as of the strains of the lyre. However, he continued to repeat these words two or three times, and as they were all thrown to the winds he took up a heavy club and began to belabor the ill-starred beast. He flogged and thrashed the poor animal so much till its body began to loosen, and it emitted a fine yellow discharge on the white sheets. At this sight the unfortunate Masella, who had hoped fundamentally to alleviate her poverty, and now found instead another kind of fundament so liberal that it scented the whole house, took up a stick and without giving Antuono time to show her the pumice stone, administered to him a sound thrashing. He fled as fast as he could in the direction of the ogre. The ogre saw him coming more at a trot than walking and, being a magician, knew what had happened. So he gave him a good scolding for letting himself be cheated by an innkeeper, calling him feeble minded, only fit to be tied to his mother's apron strings, idiot, dunce, fool, ninny, boor, who in exchange for an ass rich in treasure had accepted a beast prolific of ordinary excrement. Antuono swallowed the pill, and swore that never never again would he let himself be mocked or cheated by any living soul. After a year, however, there was renewed in him the same painful longing, and he languished with the desire to see his people again. The ogre, who was ugly of face but kindly of heart, gave him leave this time too, and made him a present of a fine napkin, saying, 'Take this to your mother, but mind now, don't behave like a dolt as you did about the ass. And until you reach home don't say either 'Open' or 'Shut, napkin,' for if some misfortune befalls you, it will be your own fault. Now go, and good luck go with you. Come back soon.' Antuono departed, but he had not gone far from the grotto before he put the napkin on the ground, and said, 'Open, napkin!' And it opened, and at once there appeared a whole heap of costly objects, finery, and precious things of all kinds, the most beautiful and wonderful imaginable. Antuono then exclaimed, 'Shut, napkin!' and folding everything up in it, he made his way to the same inn as the time before. Arriving there, he said to the innkeeper, 'Take this napkin and look after it for me, but be careful not to say 'Open' or 'Shut, napkin.'' The latter, who was a sly knave, answered, 'Leave it to me,' and having given him plenty to eat and making him catch the monkey by the tail [getting him drunk], sent him off to sleep. Then he took the napkin and uttering the words found himself looking at enough precious things to amaze him. He therefore found another napkin so alike as to appear exactly the same, and made the exchange. Antuono, having woken up, set off at a good trot and arrived as his mother's house, where he started to cry out, 'Now at last we shall be able to laugh at the whole of beggardom! Now shall we put an end to our wants, our rags and tatters!' and spreading the napkin on the ground, said, 'Open, napkin!' But he could go on repeating it from today till tomorrow, for, as it gave not the slightest sign of opening, it was all a waste of time. Then, seeing that things were going wrong, he said to his mother, 'May the heavens be blessed! The innkeeper has done me again. But let it be, for he and I make two. Better for him that he had never been born. Better that he had fallen under cart wheels. May I lose my greatest treasure if the next time I pass his inn I don't smash his glasses, plates, and dishes to atoms to pay for his having stolen my ass and jewels.' But his mother, hearing these fresh stupidities, flamed up in anger, crying, 'Go, break you neck, accursed son! Fracture your collarbone! Away, out of my sight! for I see my entrails, and I can stand you no longer, as my gorge rises each time you come near me! Be off with you, and may this house burn you like fire! I wash my hands of you, and think of you as if I had never brought you into the world.' The unfortunate Antuono, seeing the lightning, had no wish to wait for the thunder. And like one who has stolen clothes from a heap of washing, lowering his head and raising his heels, he vanished in the direction of the ogre. When the ogre saw him creeping in slowly as slowly and softly as softly he gave him another good dressing down, saying, 'I don't know what keeps me from tearing out your eyes, gasbag, windy mouth, lump of putrid flesh, hen's arse, tattle, trumpet of the Vicaria [a town crier], noising every blessed thing abroad, vomiting whatever is in you without ever being able to retain the husks! If you had kept quiet at the inn, all this would not have happened to you. But you've got a tongue like the sail of a windmill, and now you've crushed the prosperity that was once yours.' The miserable Antuono put his tail between his legs and swallowed the music, and for over three years remained quietly in the service of the ogre, thinking no more of his home than of becoming a lord. However, after this period, he was seized with another attack of tertian fever, with a longing to return home, and begged the ogre to give him leave. And the ogre, overruled by his importunities, consented to let him go and gave him a finely worked club with the warning, 'Take this club in memory of me. But remember not to say, 'Up, stick!' or 'Down stick!' for my only wish is to share things with you.' Antuono, taking it, replied, 'Enough, for now I have grown my wisdom teeth and know how many pairs make three oxen. I am a boy no longer, and anyone who wants to cheat Antuono must kiss his own elbow first.' The ogre answered, 'The work praises the worker. Words are women and deeds are men. We shall see! You have heard me more than a deaf man. A man forewarned is a man half saved!' The ogre was still talking when Antuono hurried off to his home. He had not gone half a mile before he cried, 'Up, stick!' It was not mere word but a magic charm! The club, as if it had an imp in its marrow, started to work at once like a turner's lathe about the shoulders of the unhappy Antuono. The blows fell from an open sky one after the other without stopping. The poor fellow, seeing himself drubbed and beaten like a Cordovan hide, cried out, 'Down, stick!' and the club stopped playing its counterpoint on the staff-lines of his spine. So, having learnt at his own expense, he said, 'Bad luck to anyone that flies! I won't let it escape me this time! The one that's in for a bad time hasn't gone to bed yet!' With these thoughts he arrived at the same inn and was received with the best welcome in the world, for the innkeeper knew what sauce was to be had from that pigskin. Antuono said to him, 'Here, keep this stick for me, but be careful not to say 'Up, stick!' or it will be the worse for you. Take heed. Don't complain any more of Antuono, for I warn you, and make the bed beforehand.' The innkeeper, well content as this third piece of good luck, crammed him full of soup and made him see the bottom of the pitcher. And as soon as he had put him to bed, half asleep already, he ran to take the stick, calling to his wife to come and see the show. 'Up, stick!' he cried, and at once it began to test the ballast of the innkeepers, with a whack here and a whack there, administering a sound beating of the first order. Finally, finding themselves in such a bad way, the husband and wife, pursued by the stick, ran off to wake Antuono and beg him for mercy. Antuono, who saw that the affair had been a huge success, that the macaroni had fallen into the cheese and the broccoli into the lard, said, 'There's no way of stopping it! You'll be beaten to death with blows unless you return my things to me.' The innkeeper, who was a mass of bruises, cried, 'Take everything I have, only deliver me from this cursed plague on my shoulders.' And in order to prove his words, he had all the things fetched that he had stolen from him. When Antuono had go the lot, he cried 'Down, stick!' and it lay quietly on one side. Then taking with him the donkey and the other things, Antuono returned to his mother's house, where he made a right royal trial of the ass's backside and a sure test of the napkin. He amassed a pile of money, married off his sisters, enriched his mother, and proved the truth of the saying: God helps boys and madmen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
563,"The Wish Rag, the Gold-Goat, and the Hat Soldiers",Austria,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a cobbler who was very poor, having nothing but a wife and an old goat. Unable to earn anything in his homeland, he decided to travel elsewhere. 'Listen, dear wife,' he said one day to her, 'you see that I can earn nothing here. Therefore I am ready to leave tomorrow for somewhere else. Slaughter our goat so I can have something to eat on my way.' The next day the goat was slaughtered. The cobbler took a portion of it with him and set forth. He walked the entire day, but was able to reach neither a village nor a town. Exhausted, the poor man sat down to rest a while beneath a statue that stood at the end of the path. He was about to unpack his meat when the statue began to speak, asking the cobbler, 'Tell me, what do you have in your bundle?' 'A piece of goat meat,' was the startled man's answer. 'My dear man, do you see the little wooden hut at the end of the path?' 'Yes, I see it,' he answered. 'Go there and throw your meat inside. The devils have their workshop there. When they ask you what you demand in return, answer them, 'that old rag that is lying on the bed.'' The cobbler immediately went to the hut, threw his meat inside, and demanded in return the rag described by the statue. Only after much arguing back and forth did they give it to him. The cobbler went away with it. Examining his reward, he saw that it was substantially worse than any he had at home. Returning to the statue, the cobbler expressed his displeasure at its advice. But the statue said, 'Take this little stick from my hand and strike the rag three times with it.' The cobbler did what he was told to do, and the finest foods appeared on the rag. Thus the cobbler, who for a very long time had not had such fare, was able to eat a delicious meal. When the feast was over, he thanked the statue, took the rag, and decided to return home. On the way he spent the night at an inn, where he demonstrated his magic item to the other guests. The innkeeper and the innkeeper's wife were amazed, and they secretly desired to possess such a rag themselves. That night the innkeeper stole the cobbler's rag, putting another one in its place near his bed. The next day the deceived man paid his bill and set off for home with the rag he presumed was genuine. Immediately after his arrival, he invited all of his relatives to a joyous feast. The guests all appeared and were awaiting the food that was to be served. The cobbler entered, the rag in his hand, and told everyone what had happened during the past few days. Then the cobbler brought forth the little stick and slowly struck the rag three times. But no food appeared. The cobbler struck repeatedly, and more and more vigorously, but the rag lay there dead, and the hungry guests went away unsatisfied. The poor man thought that the statue was the cause of his misfortune. Soon afterward the cobbler set forth a second time, again taking with him a portion of his goat. Again he came to the statue, who told him to once more give his meat to the devils and to demand in return the old goat that was hanging on the door. The cobbler did this, and received the old goat, which was much worse off than the one he had slaughtered before his journey. Returning to the statue, he complained to it about the old animal he had received. But the statue placed a little stick in his hand and told the man to strike the goat on the back with it. The cobbler did what he was told, and to his amazement gold pieces fell from the goat's ears. How happy our man was when he saw the gold! Quickly thanking the statue, he hurried homeward with the old goat. On his way he felt hungry and thirsty, so he turned in at the same inn where he had previously spent the night. After eating and drinking he wanted to pay his bill, but he had no money. In order to get some, he led the goat into the room, and with the little stick he hit it on the back three times. It shook gold out of its ears, with which the cobbler paid his bill. The innkeeper had scarcely seen this happen before he began to make plans to take possession of the goat. Now the innkeeper owned a goat that looked exactly like the one in question. Therefore he decided to exchange his goat with the cobbler's goat during the night. And the plot was soon realized. He exchanged the goats. The cobbler awoke the next morning and went on his way in good cheer, for he had no idea about the exchange. Upon his arrival home, he sent his wife to get a pork roast for a delicious midday meal, saying that he would provide the money for it. After they had eaten the meal, our cobbler wanted to try his magic trick. He led the goat into the room and struck it three times on the back with his little stick. But no one saw any gold fall out. The cobbler struck more and more vigorously, but without success. The mysterious silence was broken only by the poor animal's weak bleating. All attempts were for nothing. To be sure, the animal sadly shook its head, but no money fell from its ears. The poor cobbler saw that he had been cheated once again, and he set forth for the third and final time. Again he returned to the statue, which once more advised him to give the goat meat to the devils, and this time to demand in return an old hat that was lying next to the bed. The cobbler did as he was told, and did indeed receive the old hat, which -- however -- was in very poor condition. The cobbler returned to the statue, which gave him a little stick. He was to strike the hat three times with it. The man did this, and to his amazement, an entire regiment of soldiers emerged from it. He did not tire of looking at the little army, but he struck the hat once again, and all the soldiers took their places inside. The statue then explained to the cobbler how the innkeeper where he had spent the night had stolen the magic items he had previously won. The cobbler resolved to gain them back, and, after thanking the statue, he left for the inn. Arriving there, he demanded his rag and his goat from the innkeeper, but the innkeeper refused to give them back. Then the cobbler struck his hat, and immediately the entire room was filled to overflowing with soldiers, who threatened the innkeeper with death if he did not give back the magic items. Filled with fear, he gave back the items, and the cobbler returned home as a wealthy man. After arriving home he immediately invited the king of the land to visit him, promising to show him all kinds of interesting things. The king came and saw the goat and the rag, and the food served by it tasted wonderful to him. However, as he was leaving, he ordered his servants to steal the rag as well as the goat. And they did so. The cobbler demanded the return of his property, but to no avail. The king only laughed at him. Then the cobbler, trusting in his hat, declared war against the king. The latter received the declaration with a laugh. Together they decided on a place and a time for the battle. When the day arrived, the cobbler was the first one on the battlefield. Soon the king arrived with ten of his best soldiers. When the cobbler saw them he had his army march out of the hat, ordering them to capture the king and the others. The king was amazed at the army and attempted to flee, for he felt that he was too weak. However, the opposing horde had already surrounded him. He had to surrender, and he was brought before the cobbler, who promised him freedom as soon as he gave back his goat and his rag. Thus even a king was once defeated by a cobbler.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
920E,Melchizedek Avoids a Trap,Giovanni Boccaccio,NA,NA,"Through acts of generosity and the costs of waging war, Saladin depleted his treasury. Caught by a sudden need for money, he thought of a wealthy Jew, Melchizedek by name, who lived in Alexandria. But Melchizedek had a reputation for miserliness, and he would never voluntarily surrender the vast sum needed by Saladin, nor was the Sultan prepared to take the money by force. At last Saladin devised a plan whereby he would embarrass the wealthy Jew, who would then redeem himself with money. Accordingly, Saladin summoned Melchizedek to his palace, then stated, 'Men speak highly of your wisdom. What conclusion have you reached concerning the ways of God? Which of the three great religions is the truly authentic one? Judaism, Christianity, or Islam?' Sensing that with this question Saladin was seeking to lead him into an unwinnable quarrel and thus gain advantage over him, Melchizedek answered, 'That is an excellent question, my lord. I can best explain my views on the subject with the following story:' I have heard that there was once a wealthy man whose most prized possession was a precious ring. He bequeathed this ring to one of his sons, and by this sign, the latter was known as the head of family. Succeeding generations followed this tradition, with the principal heir always inheriting the cherished ring from his father. But, to make a long story short, the ring finally came into the possession of a man who had three sons, each the equal of the others in obedience, virtue, and worthiness. Unwilling to favor one son over the others, the father had a master artisan make two copies of the valued ring, and he bequeathed a ring to each son. Following the father's death, each son laid claim to the deceased man's title and estate, showing the inherited ring as proof. However, a careful inspection of the three rings could not reveal which of them was the authentic one, so the three sons' claims remain unresolved. The same is true with the three great religions, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. The adherents of each religion consider themselves to be the legitimate heirs of God's truth. But as was the case with the rings, their claims too remain unresolved. Saladin, recognizing that the Jew had escaped his trap, decided to ask him directly for a loan. Melchizedek gladly provided him with the sum he needed. The Sultan later repaid the debt in full, and Saladin and Melchizedek remained friends as long as they lived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
920E,Of the Triple State of the World,Gesta Romanorum,NA,NA,"A certain knight had three sons, and on his deathbed he bequeathed the inheritance to his firstborn; to the second, his treasury; and to the third, a very valuable ring, of more worth indeed than all he had left to the others. But the two former had also rings, and they were all apparently the same. After their father's death the first son said, 'I possess that precious ring of my father.' The second said, 'You have it not -- I have.' To this the third son answered, 'That is not true. The elder of us has the estate, the second the treasure, and therefore it is but meet that I should have the most valuable ring.' The first son answered, 'Let us prove, then, whose claims to it have the preeminence.' They agreed, and several sick men were made to resort to them for the purpose. The two first rings had no effect, but the last cured all their infirmities. Application: My beloved, the knight is Christ. The three sons are the Jews, Saracens [Muslims], and Christians. The most valuable ring is faith, which is the property of the younger, that is, of the Christians",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
920E,The Parable of the Three Rings,Gotthold Ephraim Lessing,NA,NA,"An uneasy peace ruled in Jerusalem. Saladin's victory against the Crusaders had cost the Muslims dearly, both in the loss of troops and in the depletion of the royal treasury. Saladin was resolved to rule with civilized humanity as far as possible. But it was an uneasy peace, with Jews, Christians, and the newly victorious Muslims all suspicious of one another. Thus when Saladin requested an audience with Nathan, a leading Jewish merchant, the latter was very apprehensive about the Sultan's motivation. Nathan was known far and wide not only for his successes in commerce, but also for his skills in diplomacy and negotiation. Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike called him Nathan the Wise. Nathan's suspicions were well founded, for Saladin was indeed looking to replenish his exhausted coffers with a loan or a gift from his wealthy Jewish subject. Too civil to openly demand such a tribute from the peace-loving Nathan, the Sultan instead masked his request in the form of a theological question. 'Your reputation for wisdom is great,' said the Sultan. 'You must have studied the great religions. Tell me, which is the best, Judaism, Islam, or Christianity?' 'Sultan, I am a Jew,' replied Nathan. 'And I a Muslim,' interrupted Saladin, 'and between us stands the Christian. But the three faiths contradict one another. They cannot all be true. Tell me the results of your own wise deliberations. Which religion is best?' Nathan recognized the trap at once. Any answer except 'Islam' would offend Saladin the Muslim, whereas any answer except 'Judaism' would place his own integrity under question. Thus, instead of giving a direct answer, Nathan responded by relating a parable to Saladin: But instead of harmony, the father's plan brought only discord to his heirs. Shortly after the father died, each of the sons claimed to be the sole ruler of the father's house, each basing his claim to authority on the ring given to him by the father. The discord grew even stronger and more hateful when a close examination of the rings failed to disclose any differences. 'But wait,' interrupted Saladin, 'surely you do not mean to tell me that there are no differences between Islam, Judaism, and Christianity!' 'You are right, Sultan,' replied Nathan. 'Their teachings and practices differ in ways that can be seen by all. However, in each case, the teachings and practices are based on beliefs and faith, beliefs and faith that at their roots are the same. Which of us can prove that our beliefs and our faith are more reliable than those of others?' 'I understand,' said Saladin. 'Now continue with your tale.' 'The story is nearly at its end,' replied Nathan. The judge continued: 'Or it may be that your father, weary of the tyranny of a single ring, made duplicates, which he gave to you. Let each of you demonstrate his belief in the power of his ring by conducting his life in such a manner that he fully merits -- as anciently promised -- the love of God and man. 'Marvelous! Marvelous!' exclaimed Saladin. 'Your tale has set my mind at rest. You may go.' 'Sultan, was there nothing else you wished from me?' asked Nathan. 'No. Nothing.' 'Then may I take the liberty to make a request of you. My trade of late has brought me unexpected wealth, and in these uncertain times I need a secure repository. Would you be willing to accept my recent earnings as loan or deposit?' The Sultan gladly acceded to Nathan's wish. And thus Saladin gained from his wise Jewish subject both material and spiritual benefit, and Nathan the Wise found a safe haven for his wealth and earned the respect of the Islamic Sultan.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
225,An Eagle and a Tortoise,Æsop or Anianus,"L'Estrange attributes this fable to Anianus, although most editors attribute it to Æsop.","Sir Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists: With Morals and Reflexions, (London, 1692), no. 220, pp. 192-93.","A tortoise was thinking with himself, how irksome a sort of life it was, so spend all his days in a hole, with a house upon his head, when so many other creatures had the liberty to divert themselves in the free, fresh air, and to ramble about at pleasure. So that the humor took him one day, and he must needs get an eagle to teach him to fly. The eagle would fain have put him off, and told him 'twas a thing against nature, and common sense; but (according to the freak of the wilful part of the world) the more that one was against it, the more the other was for it. And when the eagle saw that the tortoise would not be said Nay, she took him up a matter of steeple-high into the air, and there turn'd him loose th shift for himself. That is to say: She dropt him down, Squash upon a rock, that dash'd him to pieces. The Moral: Nothing can be either safe, or easy, that's unnatural.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
225,The Disobedient Tortoise,The Panchatantra,"India's most influential contribution to world literature, the Panchatantra consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.","Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, vol. 2, translated from Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 1, story 13 (pp. 90-91).","In a certain pond there once lived a tortoise by the name of Kamburgriva (Shell-Neck). He had two friends who belonged to the goose family and who had grown very fond of him. One was named Sankata (Small) and the other Vikata (Large). They regularly came to the pond's bank where they told one another many stories about the wise ones among the gods, Brahmans, and kings. At sunset they would return to their nests. However, in the course of time the pond began to dry up, due to the lack of rain. Pained by this misfortune, the two said, 'Alas, friend, this pond has become nothing but mud. How will you stay alive? Our hearts are saddened.' Hearing this, Kamburgriva said, 'I cannot live without water. Let us think of a solution! For it is said, 'The wise always rush to aid their relatives and friends in time of need.' Therefore fetch a strong stick and seek a pond that still contains much water. I shall grasp the stick which you will carry in your teeth from both ends and thus take me to the pond.' 'Friend, that we will do!' the two replied, 'but you must remain as speechless as a saint who has taken an oath of silence, lest you fall from the stick and break into pieces.' The tortoise said, 'For certain. I promise to say nothing from now until we have landed at the pond.' They proceeded as planned, and from his flight Kamburgriva looked down upon the city beneath him, whose startled inhabitants were shouting, 'Look! Look! Two birds are carrying something like a carriage!' Hearing their cries, Kamburgriva began to speak. He wanted to say, 'What are you shouting about?' but before he had half uttered the words, he fell earthward and was torn into pieces by the city's inhabitants. Panchatantra consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
225,The Talkative Tortoise,The Jataka Tales,"Part of the canon of sacred Buddhist literature, this collection of some 550 anecdotes and fables depicts earlier incarnations -- sometimes as an animal, sometimes as a human -- of the being who would become Siddhartha Gautama, the future Buddha. Traditional birth and death dates of Gautama are 563-483 BC. The Jataka tales are dated between 300 BC and 400 AD. In spite of the collection's sacred and didactic nature, it nonetheless includes elements -- obviously derived from ancient folktales -- whose primary function is entertainment. Now called Varanasi, Benares is a city in north central India on the Ganges River. One of the world's oldest cities, Varanasi is the most sacred place for Hindus. Buddhists and Muslims also have important religious sites nearby. According to tradition, Buddha began his teaching at Sarnath a short distance from the city.","Buddhist Birth-Stories; or, Jataka Tales, edited by V. Fausbøll and translated by T. W. Rhys Davids (London: Trübner and Company, 1880), pp. viii-x.","Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the future Buddha was born in a minister's family; and when he grew up, he became the king's adviser in things temporal and spiritual. Now this king was very talkative; while he was speaking, others had no opportunity for a word. And the future Buddha, wanting to cure this talkativeness of his, was constantly seeking for some means of doing so. At that time there was living, in a pond in the Himalayan Mountains, a tortoise. Two young wild ducks who came to feed there made friends with him. And one day, when they had become very intimate with him, they said to the tortoise, 'Friend tortoise, the place where we live, at the Golden Cave on Mount Beautiful in the Himalayan country, is a delightful spot. Will you come there with us?' 'But how can I get there?' 'We can take you, if you can only hold your tongue, and will say nothing to anybody.' 'Oh, that I can do. Take me with you.' 'That's right,' said they. And making the tortoise bite hold of a stick, they themselves took the two ends in their teeth, and flew up into the air. Seeing him thus carried by the ducks, some villagers called out, 'Two wild ducks are carrying a tortoise along on a stick!' Whereupon the tortoise wanted to say, 'If my friends choose to carry me, what is that to you, you wretched slaves?' So just as the swift flight of the wild ducks had brought him over the king's palace in the city of Benares, he let go of the stick he was biting, and falling in the open courtyard, split in two! And there arose a universal cry, 'A tortoise has fallen in the open courtyard, and has split in two!' The king, taking the future Buddha, went to the place, surrounded by his courtiers, and looking at the tortoise, he asked the Bodisat, 'Teacher, how has it possible that he has fallen here?' The future Buddha thought to himself, 'Long expecting, wishing to admonish the king, I have sought for some means of doing so. This tortoise must have made friends with the wild ducks; and they must have made him bite hold of the stick, and have flown up into the air to take him to the hills. But he, being unable to hold his tongue when he hears anyone else talk, must have wanted to say something, and let go of the stick; and so must have fallen down from the sky, and thus lost his life.' And saying, 'Truly, oh king, those who are called chatterboxes -- people whose words have no end -- come to grief like this,' he uttered these verses: Verily, the tortoise killed himself While uttering his voice; Though he was holding tight to stick, By a word he slew himself. Behold him then, oh excellent by strength! And speak wise words, not out of season. You see how, by his talking overmuch, The tortoise fell into this wretched plight! The king saw that he was himself referred to, and said, 'Oh teacher, are you speaking of us?' And the Bodisat spoke openly, and said, 'Oh great king, be it you, or be it any other, whoever talks beyond measure meets with some mishap like this.' And the king henceforth refrained himself, and became a man of few words. Part of the canon of sacred Buddhist literature, this collection of some 550 anecdotes and fables depicts earlier incarnations -- sometimes as an animal, sometimes as a human -- of the being who would become Siddhartha Gautama, the future Buddha. Traditional birth and death dates of Gautama are 563-483 BC. The Jataka tales are dated between 300 BC and 400 AD. In spite of the collection's sacred and didactic nature, it nonetheless includes elements -- obviously derived from ancient folktales -- whose primary function is entertainment. Now called Varanasi, Benares is a city in north central India on the Ganges River. One of the world's oldest cities, Varanasi is the most sacred place for Hindus. Buddhists and Muslims also have important religious sites nearby. According to tradition, Buddha began his teaching at Sarnath a short distance from the city.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
225,The Tortoise and the Birds,Aesop,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Aesop (London: Macmillan and Company, 1894), no. 47, pp. 111-12.","A tortoise desired to change its place of residence, so he asked an eagle to carry him to his new home, promising her a rich reward for her trouble. The eagle agreed, and seizing the tortoise by the shell with her talons, soared aloft. On their way they met a crow, who said to the eagle, 'Tortoise is good eating.' 'The shell is too hard,' said the eagle in reply. 'The rocks will soon crack the shell,' was the crow's answer; and the eagle, let fall the tortoise on a sharp rock, and the two birds made a hearty meal off the tortoise. Never soar aloft on an enemy's pinions.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
225,The Tortoise and the Two Ducks,Jean de La Fontaine,"Like his contemporary Charles Perrault (1628-1703), Jean de La Fontaine (1621-95) was a member of the Académie Française and a leading intellectual of his time. La Fontaine's 245 fables, published in twelve books between 1668 and 1694, exemplify the grace and wit of his age.","Jean de La Fontaine, Fables, translated into English verse by Walter Thornbury, book 10, (1868), fable 3.","A tortoise once, with an empty head, Great sick of her safe but monotonous home, Resolved on some distant shore to tread; It is ever the cripple that loves to roam. Two Ducks, to whom our friend repaired To gossip o'er her bold intent, Their full approval straight declared; And, pointing to the firmament, Said, 'By that road -- 'tis broad and ample -- We'll seek Columbia's mighty range, See peoples, laws, and manners strange; Ulysses shall be our example.' (Ulysses would have been astounded At being with this scheme confounded.) The tortoise liking much this plan, Straightway the friendly ducks began To see how one for flight unfitted Might through the realms of air be flitted At length within her jaws they fitted A trusty stick, and seizing each an end, With many a warning cry -- 'Hold fast! hold fast!' Bore up to heaven their adventurous friend. The people wondered as the cortege passed, And truly it was droll to see A tortoise and her house in the Ducks' company. 'A miracle!' the wondering mob surprises: 'Behold, on clouds the great Queen Tortoise rises!' 'A queen!' the tortoise answered; 'yes, forsooth; Make no mistake -- I am -- in honest truth.' Alas! why did she speak? She was a chattering dunce: For as her jaws unclose, the stick slips out at once, And down amidst the gaping crowds she sank, A wretched victim to her claims to rank. Self-pride, a love of idle speaking, And wish to be for ever seeking A power that nature ne'er intended, Are follies close allied, and from one stock descended. verse by Walter Thornbury, book 10, (1868), fable 3. Return to D. L. Ashliman's index of folklore and mythology electronic texts.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
225,The Tortoise and the Two Swans,"The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story",NA,"Somadeva, The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story, translated from the original Sanskrit by C. H. Tawney, vol. 2 (Calcutta [Kolkata]: J. W. Thomas, 1884), p. 37.","There was in a certain lake a tortoise, named Kambugríva, and he had two swans for friends, Vikata and Sankata. Once on a time the lake was dried up by drought, and they wanted to go to another lake; so the tortoise said to them, 'Take me also to the lake you are desirous of going to.' When the two swans heard this, they said to their friend the tortoise, 'The lake to which we wish to go is a tremendous distance off; but, if you wish to go there too, you must do what we tell you. You must take in your teeth a stick held by us, and while traveling through the air, you must remain perfectly silent, otherwise you will fall and be killed.' The tortoise agreed, and took the stick in his teeth, and the two swans flew up into the air, holding the two ends of it. And gradually the two swans, carrying the tortoise, drew near that lake, and were seen by some men living in a town below; and the thoughtless tortoise heard them making a chattering, while they were discussing with one another, what the strange thing could be that the swans were carrying. So the tortoise asked the swans what the chattering below was about, and in so doing let go the stick from its mouth, and falling down to the earth, was there killed by the men.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
225,When Mr. Terrapin Went Riding on the Clouds,USA (North Carolina),NA,"Emma M. Backus, 'Animal Tales from North Carolina,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 11, no. 43 (Oct. - Dec., 1898), pp. 285-86.","Have they done tell you 'bout ole Mr. Grumble Terrapin? Well, one day ole Brer Terrapin was mighty bad, and making up a poor mouth, and a-grumbling and a-fussing, 'cause he have to creep on the ground. When he meet Brer Rabbit, he grumble 'cause he can't run like Brer Rabbit, an' when he meet Brer Buzzard he grumble 'cause he can't fly in the clouds like Brer Buzzard, and so grumble, grumble, constant. Well, the folkses stand it till they nigh 'bout wore out, and so they 'gree amongst theyselves, the folkses did, and they 'gree how they gwine take Brer Terrapin up in the clouds and drop him. So one day, when Brer Terrapin grumble to Miss Crow he can't fly in the clouds, Miss Crow she say, she did, 'Brer Terrapin, go get on my back, and I give you a ride in the clouds.' So Brer Terrapin, he mighty set up in he mind, and he get on Miss Crow's back, and they sail off fine, and they sails this yer way, and they sails that yer way. Brer Terrapin; he look down on all he friends, and he feel that proudful he don't take no noticement when they take off they hats to hisself. But presently Miss Crow she get tired, and so she say, old Miss Crow did, 'This yer just as high as I can go, Brer Terrapin, but here come Brer Buzzard; he can fly heap higher than what I can, Brer Buzzard can, and you just get on his back, and he sail you heap higher.' So Brer Terrapin, he get on Brer Buzzard back, and they sail up higher and higher, till Brer Terrapin can't make out he friends when they take off they hats to hisself, and he say that the bestest day of his life, Brer Terrapin do, and they sails over the woods, and they sails over the waters. Then Brer Buzzard, he get broke down a-toting Brer Terrapin, and he 'low: 'This here just as high as I can go, Brer Terrapin, but there come Miss Hawk; she can go a heap higher than what I can,' and Miss Hawk she say she be delighted to take Brer Terrapin to ride, -- that just what Miss Hawk done tell Brer Terrapin. So Brer Terrapin, he get on Miss Hawk's back, and they go higher and higher, and Brer Terrapin he 'joy it fine, and he say to hisself, 'I'se getting up in the clouds now, sure 'nough.' But directly here come King Eagle, and he say, 'Oho, Brer Terrapin, you don't call this yer sailing. Oho, Sis Hawk, if you gwine sail Brer Terrapin, why don't you take him up where he can get a sight?' But Miss Hawk, she 'bliged to 'low that just as high as she can go. Then King Eagle say, 'Well, just get on my back, and get a sure 'nough ride.' So Brer Terrapin, he get on King Eagle's back, and they go up and up, till ole Brer Terrapin he get skeered, and he beg King Eagle to get down; but King Eagle, he just laugh and sail higher and higher, till old Brer Terrapin say to hisself he wish he neber study 'bout flying in the clouds, and he say, Brer Terrapin did: 'Oh please, King Eagle, take me down; I that skeered, I 'se 'bout to drop,' and he fault hisself cause he was such a grumbling fool, and he say to hisself, if he ever get on he own foots once more, he never grumble 'cause he can't fly in the clouds, but King Eagle, he just make like he gwine up higher and higher, and poor old Brer Terrapin, he dat skeered, he can't hold on much more, and he 'bout lose he hold. Just den he think how he got a spool of thread in he pocket, what Miss Terrapin done send him to fetch home from the store that day, and he tie the end to King Eagle's leg, unbeknownst to him, Brer Terrapin did, and then he drop de spool, and he take hold of the thread, and hold it fast in he hands, and he slip down to the ground, and you never hear old Brer Terrapin grumble 'cause he can't run or fly, 'cause the old man he done fly that yer day to satisfy hisself, that he did, sure's yer born, he did fly that yer day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,A Hare and a Tortoise,Aesop (translated by Sir Roger L'Estrange),Type 275A.,"Sir Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and other Eminent Mythologists: With Morals and Reflections, 8th edition corrected (London: Printed for A. Bettesworth, C. Hitch, G. Strahan, R. Gosling, R. Ware, J. Osborn, S. Birt, B. Motte, C. Bathurst, D. Browne, and J. Hodges, 1738), no. 133, pp. 149-50.","What a dull heavy Creature (says a Hare) is this same Tortoise! And yet (says the Tortoise) I'll run with you for a Wager. 'Twas done and done, and the Fox, by Consent, was to be the Judge. They started together, and the Tortoise kept jogging on still till he came to the End of the Course. The Hare laid himself down about Midway, and took a Nap; for, says he, I can fetch up the tortoise when I please: But he over-slept himself, it seems, for when he came to wake, though he scudded away as fast as 'twas possible, the Tortoise got to the Post before him, and won the Wager. The Moral Up and be doing, is an edifying Text; for Action is the Business of Life, and there's no Thought of ever coming to the end of our Journey in time, if we sleep by the way. REFLECTION UNNECESSARY Delays in all pressing Affairs are but just so much time lost, beside the hazard of intervening Contingencies that may endanger a total Disappointment. Let not the Work of to Day be put off till to Morrow: For the future is uncertain; and he that lies down to sleep in the middle of Business that requires Action, does not know whether he shall live to wake again: Or with the Hare in the Fable here, out-sleep his Opportunity. a plodding Diligence brings us sooner to our Journey's End, than a fluttering Way of advancing by Starts and by Stops; for 'tis Perseverance alone that can carry us thorough-stitch. of Æsop and other Eminent Mythologists: With Morals and Reflections, 8th edition corrected (London: Printed for A. Bettesworth, C. Hitch, G. Strahan, R. Gosling, R. Ware, J. Osborn, S. Birt, B. Motte, C. Bathurst, D. Browne, and J. Hodges, 1738), no. 133, pp. 149-50.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,"An Unequal Match; Or, Why the Carabao's Hoof Is Split",Philippines (Tagalog),"Fansler's informant: Godofredo Rivera, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, La Laguna. Type 275C.","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 82, pp. 428-29.","But the carabao snorted when he heard this proposal; and he replied, 'You slow thing! You ought to live with the drones, not with a swift and powerful person like me.' The turtle was very much offended, and to get even he challenged the carabao to a race. At first the carabao refused to accept the challenge, for he thought it would be a disgrace for him to run against a turtle. The turtle said to the carabao, 'If you will not race with me, I will go to all the forests, woods, and mountains, and tell all your companions and all my friends and all the animal kingdom that you are a coward.' Now the carabao was persuaded; and he said, 'All right, only give me three days to get ready for the race.' The turtle was only too glad to have the contest put off for three days, for then he too would have a chance to prepare his plans. The agreement between the turtle and the carabao was that the race should extend over seven hills. The turtle at once set out to visit seven of his friends; and, by telling them that if he could win this race it would be to the glory of the turtle kingdom, he got them to promise to help him. So the next day he stationed a turtle on the top of each hill, after giving them all instructions. The third day came. Early the next morning the turtle and the carabao met at the appointed hill. At a given signal the race began, and soon the runners lost sight of each other. When the carabao reached the second hill, he was astonished to see the turtle ahead of him, shouting, 'Here I am!' After giving this yell, the turtle at once disappeared. And at every hill the carabao found his enemy ahead of him. When the carabao was convinced at the seventh hill that he had been defeated, he became so angry that he kicked the turtle. On account of the hardness of its shell, the turtle was uninjured; but the hoof of the carabao was split in two, because of the force of the blow. And even today, the carabaos still bear the mark which an unjust action on the part of their ancestor against one whom he knew was far inferior to him in strength produced on himself.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,How the Hedgehog Ran the Devil to Death,England,"Ella M. Leather, Folk-Lore, vol. 23, no. 3 (September 1912), p. 357. Type 275C or type 1074. In type 275C the contest is between animals; in type 1074 it is between an ogre or devil and humans.",NA,"The following variant of a well-known folktale was obtained from the Rev. T. H. Philpott, of Hedge End, Botley, who learned it from his mother in Worcestershire: A hedgehog made a wager with the devil to run him a race, the hedgehog to have the choice of time and place. He chose to run up and down a ditch at night. When the time came the hedgehog rolled himself up at one end of the ditch, and got a friend to roll himself up at the other; then he started the devil off. At the other end of the ditch, the friend said to the devil, 'Now we go off again.' Each hedgehog kept repeating this formula at his own end of the ditch, while the devil ran up and down between them, until they ran him to death. This story would be introduced by the remark, 'Now we go off again, as the hedgehog said to the devil.' 357. in type 1074 it is between an ogre or devil and humans.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,Keeping Pace,African American,"Parsons' informant: Georgie Welden of Wayne, Pennsylvania. Type 275B.","Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 30, no. 116 (April - June 1917), p. 209.","Once upon a time there was a fox and a lion. They were going to have a race. The lion said that he could beat all the fox racin'. The fox said that he couldn't beat him racin'. So they got under the mark. They both started out the same time. The lion was runnin' so fast that the fox couldn't keep up with him. So he jumped on the lion back. And when they got to the place, the fox was there too. So that the way it ended out. 1917), p. 209.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,Mister Rabbit Finds His Match at Last,Joel Chandler Harris,Type 275C. A terrapin is any of several north American turtles. The word is of Algonquian origin.,"Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus and His Legends of the Old Plantation (London: D. David Bogue, 1881), no. 18, pp. 96-101.","One day when Brer Rabbit was going lippity-clippiting down the road, he meets up with old Brer Terrapin, and after they pass the time of day with one another, they keep on talking, they did, until by and by they got to disputing about which was the swiftest. Brer Rabbit, he says he can outrun Brer Terrapin, and Brer Terrapin, he just vows that he can outrun Brer Rabbit. Up and down they had it, until first thing you know, Brer Terrapin says he has a fifty-dollar bill in the chink of his chimney at home, and that bill done told him that he could beat Brer Rabbit in a fair race. Then Brer Rabbit says he has a fifty-dollar bill that says that he can leave Brer Terrapin so far behind that he could sow barley as he went along, and it would be ripe enough to cut by the time Brer Terrapin passed that way. Anyhow, they make the bet and put up the money, and old Brer Turkey Buzzard, he was summoned to be the judge and the stakeholder. And it wasn't long before all the arrangements were made. The race was a five-mile heat, and the ground was measured off, and at the end of every mile a post was stuck up. Brer Rabbit was to run down the big road, and Brer Terrapin, he says he'd gallop through the woods. Folks told him he could get along faster in the road, but old Brer Terrapin, he knows what he's doing. Miss Meadows and the gals and most all the neighbors got wind of the fun, and when the day was set, they were determined to be on hand. Brer Rabbit, he trains himself every day, and he skips over the ground just as gaily as a June cricket. Old Brer Terrapin, he lies low in the swamp. He had a wife and three children, old Brer Terrapin did, and they were all the very spitting image of the old man. Anybody who knew one from the other had to take a spyglass, and then they were liable to get fooled. That's the way matters stand until the day of the race, and on that day old Brer Terrapin and his old woman and his three children, they got up before sun-up and went to the place. The old woman, she took her stand near the first milepost, she did, and the children near the others, up to the last, and there old Brer Terrapin, he took his stand. By and by, here come the folks. Judge Buzzard, he comes, and Miss Meadows and the gals, they come, and then here comes Brer Rabbit with ribbons tied around his neck and streaming from his ears. The folks all went to the other end of the track to see how they would come out. When the time comes, Judge Buzzard struts around and pulls out his watch and hollers out, 'Gents, are you ready?' Brer Rabbit, he says 'yes,' and old Miss Terrapin hollers 'go' from the edge of the woods. Brer Rabbit, he lit out on the race, and old Miss Terrapin, she put out for home. Judge Buzzard arose and skimmed along to see that the race was run fair. When Brer Rabbit got to the first milepost, one of the terrapin children crawls out of the woods, he does, and makes for the place. Brer Rabbit, he hollers out, 'Where are you, Brer Terrapin?' 'Here I come a-bulging,' says the terrapin. Brer Rabbit is so glad he's ahead that he puts out harder than ever, and the Terrapin, he makes for home. When he comes to the next post, another terrapin crawls out of the woods. 'Where are you, Brer Terrapin?' says Brer Rabbit. 'Here I come a-boiling,' says the terrapin. Brer Rabbit, he lit out, he did, and comes to the next post, and there was the terrapin. Then he comes to the next, and there was the terrapin. Then he had one more mile to run, and he's wheezing and puffing. By and by old Brer Terrapin looks way off down the road, and he sees Judge Buzzard sailing along, and he knows it's time for him to be up. So he scrambles out of the wood and rolls across the ditch and shuffles through the crowd of folks and gets to the milepost and crawls behind it. By and by, first thing you know, here comes Brer Rabbit. He looks around and he don't see Brer Terrapin, and he squalls out, 'Give me the money, Brer Buzzard, give me the money!' Then Miss Meadows and the gals, they holler and laugh fit to kill themselves, and old Brer Terrapin, he rises up from behind the post and says, 'If you'll give me time to catch my breath, gents and ladies, one and all, I suspect I'll finger that money myself,' he says, and sure enough, Brer Terrapin ties the purse around his neck and scaddles off home. Remus and His Legends of the Old Plantation (London: D. David Bogue, 1881), no. Algonquian origin.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,Old Nick and the Girl,Sweden,Type 1074.,"Gabriel Djurklou, Fairy Tales from the Swedish, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: William Heinemann, 1901), pp. 87-95.","There was once a girl who was so mad about dancing that she nearly went out of her mind whenever she heard a fiddle strike up. She was a very clever dancer, and a smarter girl to whirl round in a dance or kick her heels was not easily to be found, although she only had shoes made of birch bark, and knitted leggings on her feet. She swept past at such a rate that the air whistled round her like a humming top. She might have whirled round still more quickly and lightly, of course, if she had had leather shoes. But how was she to get them, when she had no money to pay for them? For she was very poor, this girl, and could ill afford them. So one day, when the fair was being held at Amberg Heath, whom should she meet but Old Nick [the devil]! He was going to see the fun of the fair, as you may guess, for all sorts of tramps and vagabonds and watch dealers and rogues go there. And where such gentry are to be found, others of the same feather are sure to flock together. 'What are you thinking about?' asked Old Nick, who knew well enough how matters stood. 'I am wondering how I shall be able to get a pair of leather shoes to dance in,' said the girl, 'for I haven't any money to pay for them,' she said. 'Is that all? We'll soon get over that,' said Old Nick, and produced a pair of leather shoes, which he showed her. 'Do you like these?' he asked. The girl stood staring at the shoes. She could never have believed that there were such fine, splendid shoes, for they were not common ones sewn with pitched thread, but real German shoes with welted soles, and looked as French as one could wish. 'Is there a spring in them as well?' she asked. 'Yes, that you may be sure of,' said Old Nick. 'Do you want them?' Yes, that she did. There could be no doubt about that. And so they began bargaining and higgling about the payment, till at last they came to terms. She was to have the shoes for a whole year for nothing, if only she would dance in his interest, and afterwards she should belong to him. She did not exactly make a good bargain, but Old Nick is not a person one can bargain with. But there was to be such a spring in them that no human being would be able to swing round quicker in a dance or kick higher than she did. And if they did not satisfy her, he would take them back for nothing, and she should be free. With this they parted. And now the girl seemed to wake up thoroughly. She thought of nothing else but going to dances, wherever they might be, night after night. Well, she danced and danced, and before she knew it the year came to an end, and Old Nick came and asked for his due. 'They were a rubbishy pair of shoes you gave me,' said the girl. 'There was no spring at all in them,' she said. 'Wasn't there any spring in the shoes? That's very strange,' said Old Nick 'No, there wasn't!' said the girl. 'Why, my bark shoes are far better, and I can get on much faster in them than in these wretched things.' 'You twist about as if you were dancing,' said Old Nick. 'But now I think you will have to dance away with me after all.' 'Well, if you don't believe my words, I suppose you'll believe your eyes,' she said. 'Put on these grand shoes of yours, and try them yourself,' she said. 'And I'll put on my bark shoes, and then we'll have a race, so that you can see what they are good for,' she said. Well, that was reasonable enough, he thought, and, no doubt, he felt there was very little danger in trying it. So they agreed to race to the end of Lake Fryken and back, on each side of the lake, which, as you know, is a very long one indeed. If she came in first she was to be free, but if she came in last she was to belong to him. But the girl had to run home first of all, for she had a roll of cloth for the parson, which she must deliver before she tried her speed with Old Nick. Very well, that she might, for he went in fear of the parson. But the race should take place on the third day afterwards. Now, as bad luck would have it for Old Nick, it so happened that the girl had a sister, who was so like her that it was impossible to know one from the other, for they were twins, the two girls. But the sister was not mad about dancing, so Old Nick had not got scent of her. The girl now asked her sister to place herself at Frykstad, the south end of the lake, and she herself took up her position at Fryksend, the north end of it. She had the bark shoes on, and Old Nick the leather ones. And so they set off, each on their side of the lake. The girl did not run very far, for she knew well enough how little running she need do. But Old Nick set off at full speed, much faster than one can ride on the railway. But when he came to Frykstad he found the girl already there. And when he came back to Fryksend there she was too. 'Well, you see now?' said the girl. 'Of course I see,' said Old Nick, but he was not the man to give in at once. 'One time is no time, that you know,' he said. 'Well, let's have another try,' said the girl. Yes, that he would, for the soles of his shoes were almost worn out, and then he knew what state the bark shoes would be in. They set off for the second time, and Old Nick ran so fast that the air whistled round the corners of the houses in Sonne and Emtervik parishes. But when he came to Frykstad, the girl was already there, and when he got back to Fryksend, she was there before him this time also. 'Can you see now who comes in first?' she said. 'Yes, of course I can,' said Old Nick, and began to dry the perspiration off his face, thinking all the time what a wonderful runner that girl must be. 'But you know,' he said, 'twice is hardly half a time! It's the third time that counts.' 'Let's have another try, then,' said the girl. Yes, that he would, for Old Nick is very sly, you know, for when the leather shoes were so torn to pieces that his feet were bleeding, he knew well enough what state the bark shoes would be in. And so they set off again. Old Nick went at a terrible speed. It was just like a regular north-wester rushing past, for now he was furious. He rushed onwards, so that the roofs were swept away and the fences creaked and groaned all the way through Sonne and Emtervik parishes. But when he got to Frykstad the girl war there, and when he got back to Fryksend then she was there too. His feet were now in such a plight that the flesh hung in pieces from them, and he was so out of breath, and groaned so hard, that the sound echoed in the mountains. The girl almost pitied the old creature, disgusting as he was. 'Do you see, now,' she said, 'that there's a better spring in my bark shoes than in your leather ones? There's nothing left of yours, while mine will hold out for another run, if you would like to try,' she said. No. Old Nick had now to acknowledge himself beaten, and so she was free. 'I've never seen the like of such a woman,' he said, 'but if you go on dancing and jumping about like that all your days we are sure to meet once more,' he said. 'Oh, no!' said the girl. And since then she has never danced again, for it is not every time that you can succeed in getting away from Old Nick. translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: William Heinemann, 1901), pp. 87-95.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Butterfly and the Crane,Fiji,Type 275B.,"Constance Frederica Gordon Cumming, At Home in Fiji (New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1883), p. 346.","The butterfly would leave his back and fly a little way ahead, saying, 'Here I am, cousin,' till the poor bird died exhausted; and the butterfly, who had no longer his back to rest on, perished also.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Carabao and the Shell,Philippines (Tinguian),Note by Cole: 'Another version of this tale is found in the British North Borneo in the story of the plandok and the crab.' Type 275C.,"Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg, 1916), p. 89.","'You are very slow,' said the carabao to the shell. 'Oh, no,' replied the shell. 'I can beat you in a race.' 'Then let us try and see,' said the carabao. So they went out on the bank and started to run. After the carabao had gone a long distance he stopped and called, 'Shell!' And another shell lying by the river answered, 'Here I am!' Then the carabao, thinking that it was the same shell with which he was racing, ran on. By and by he stopped again and called, 'Shell!' And another shell answered, 'Here I am!' The carabao was surprised that the shell could keep up with him. But he ran on and on, and every time he stopped to call, another shell answered him. But he was determined that the shell should not beat him, so he ran until he dropped dead.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Crane and the Crab,Fiji,Type 275C.,"Constance Frederica Gordon Cumming, At Home in Fiji (New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1883), p. 346.","The crane and quarreled as to their powers of racing. The crab said he would go the fastest, and that the crane might fly across from point to point, while he went round by the shore. The crane flew off, and the crab stayed quietly in his hole, trusting to the multitude of his brethren to deceive the crane. The crane flew to the first point, and seeing a crab hole, put down his ear, and heard a buzzing noise. 'That slave is here before me,' said he, and flew on to the next point. Here the same thing happened, till at last, on reaching a point above Serua, the crane fell exhausted, and was drowned in the sea. Home in Fiji (New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1883), p. 346.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Elephant and the Ants,India,Type 275C.,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 115, pp. 328-29.","In the days of old there was a great deal more jungle than there is now, and wild elephants were very numerous; once upon a time a red ant and a black ant were burrowing in the ground, when a wild elephant appeared and said, 'Why are you burrowing here; I will trample all your work to pieces.' The ants answered, 'Why do you talk like this; do not despise us because we are small; perhaps we are better than you in some ways.' The elephant said, 'Do not talk nonsense. There is nothing at which you could beat me. I am in all ways the largest and most powerful animal on the face of the earth.' Then the ants said, 'Well, let us run a race and see who will win, unless you win we will not admit that you are supreme.' At this the elephant got into a rage and shouted, 'Well, come we will start at once,' and it set off to run with all its might and when it got tired it looked down at the ground and there were two ants. So it started off again and when it stopped and looked down, there on the ground were two ants. So it ran on again, but wherever it stopped it saw the ants, and at last it ran so far that it dropped down dead from exhaustion. Now it is a saying that ants are more numerous in this world than any other kind of living creature; and what happened was that the two ants never ran at all, but stayed where they were; but whenever the elephant looked at the ground, it saw some ants running about and thought that they were the first two, and so ran itself to death. This story teaches us not to despise the poor man, because one day he may have an opportunity to put us to shame. From this story of the elephant we should learn this lesson; the Creator knows why He made some animals big and some small and why He made some men fools; so we should neither bully nor cheat men who happen to be born stupid. (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 115, pp. 328-29.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Fox and the Snail,Switzerland,Type 275B.,"Otto Sutermeister, 'Der Fuchs und die Schnecke,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz (Aarau: H. R. Sauerländer, 1873), no. 60, p. 188.","One warm summer's day Master Fox was resting at Schwäg Meadow. He saw a snail next to him and immediately proposed a wager as to which of them could run faster to St. Gallen. 'You're on!' said the snail, and set forth immediately -- a little slowly to be sure, for he was carrying his house with him on his back, as was his custom. The fox, in contrast, continued his rest, intending to start off in the cool of the evening, and he dozed off. The snail took advantage of this circumstance and secretly crept into the fox's thick bushy tail. As evening approached, the fox took off and was surprised that the snail was nowhere to be seen. He presumed that he had covered a little bit of the course already. When he reached St. Gallen's gate and could still see nothing of the snail, he turned around proudly and called out tauntingly, 'Snail, are you coming soon?' 'I'm already here!' answered the snail, for without being seen, he had removed himself from the fox's tail and crept through the bottom of the gate. Thus the proud fox had to admit that he had lost.Source: Otto Sutermeister, 'Der Fuchs und die Schnecke,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz (Aarau: H. R. Sauerländer, 1873), no. 60, p. 188.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Frog and the Snail,Netherlands,"Type 275C*. The genders used in the story are grammatical, not necessarily biological.","G. J. Boekenoogen, Volkskunde, vol. 15 (1903), p. 75. Boekenoogen recorded the story in 1894 in southern Holland.","A frog entered into a wager with a snail as to which of them would be the first to reach the city. The frog, of course, believed that he would win the wager because he could travel so much faster than the snail. As they started out the frog made fun of the snail, saying, 'Don't crawl along so. Instead hop like I do; otherwise you will never win the wager.' Then away he hopped. However, arriving at the city, he found that the gate was closed, and thus he had to wait until the next morning when the gate would be opened. In the meantime the snail crawled steadily onward, and she too finally arrived at the city. Of course, she also found the gate closed, but for her that was no obstacle. She simply crawled over it, and thus won the wager. 15 (1903), p. 75. Boekenoogen recorded the story in 1894 in southern Holland. biological.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Frog and the Wild Hog,Madagascar,"Clouston's source: James Sibree, 'Malagasy Folk-Tales,' Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 2, no. 3 (March 1884), pp. 80-81. Type 275B.","William Alexander Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions: Their Migrations and Transformations, vol. 1, (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1887), pp. 268-69.","Once upon a time it was agreed between a frog and a wild hog that they should race to the top of a hill. But just as the hog commenced to run, the frog leaped upon his neck, and the hog knew nothing about it, for he did not feel him at all, being big in the neck, while the frog was so light that his weight did not ruffle a hair. So the wild hog ran, and raced, and galloped, and fumed; and just when he arrived at the goal, the frog leaped off, but the wild hog did not see him, and so he was forced to say, 'Why, you fellow, you have done it.' Then he proposed that they should see which of them could leap best. 'Just as you please,' replied the frog. 'Do your best, for if you don't exert yourself you will regret it, so don't have a stomachache for nothing.' So the two came to the waterside to try who could leap farthest. And when they came there, and the wild hog was just about to do his best, the frog jumped again upon his neck. And again the stupid fellow knew nothing about it, for what good is it to be big if one has no sense? And so, when they were just at the goal, the frog leaped off again, and so he was first, upon which the wild hog foamed at the mouth, and his eyes turned red. And again he was astonished to see the frog take it so easily, and said, 'There is no getting the better of you, you rascal!' 268-69. Journal, vol. 2, no. 3 (March 1884), pp. 80-81.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Hare and the Hedgehog,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"The Grimms added this tale to the fifth edition of their collection (1853). The Grimms received this tale in 1840 from Karl Georg Firnhaber, a professor in Kassel. Firnhaber apparently copied the Low German text almost verbatim from a fable written by Wilhelm Christian Schröder and published anonymously in the Hannoversches Volksblatt, no. 51 (April 26, 1840). Type 275C. Link to The Hare and the Hedgehog in a separate file.","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Hase und der Igel,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, no. 187.","This story was actually made up, young ones, but it really is true, for my grandfather, who told it to me, always said whenever he told it, 'it must be true, my son, otherwise it couldn't be told.' Anyway, this is how the story goes: It was on a Sunday morning at harvest time, just when the buckwheat was in bloom. The sun was shining bright in the heaven, the morning wind was blowing warmly across the stubble, the larks were singing in the air, the bees were buzzing in the buckwheat, and the people in their Sunday best were on their way to church, and all the creatures were happy, including the hedgehog. The hedgehog was standing before his door with his arms crossed, humming a little song to himself, neither better nor worse than hedgehogs usually sing on a nice Sunday morning. Singing there to himself, half silently, it suddenly occurred to him that while his wife was washing and drying the children, he could take a little walk into the field and see how his turnips were doing. The turnips were close by his house, and he and his family were accustomed to eating them, so he considered them his own. No sooner said than done. The hedgehog closed the house door behind him and started down the path to the field. He hadn't gone very far away from his house at all, only as far as the blackthorn bush which stands at the front of the field, near the turnip patch, when he met up with the hare, who had gone out for a similar purpose, namely to examine his cabbage. When the hedgehog saw the hare, he wished him a friendly good morning. The hare, however, who was in his own way a distinguished gentleman, and terribly arrogant about it, did not answer the hedgehog's greeting, but instead said to the hedgehog, in a terribly sarcastic manner, 'How is it that you are running around in the field so early in the morning?' 'I'm taking a walk,' said the hedgehog. 'Taking a walk?' laughed the hare. 'I should think that you could better use your legs for other purposes.' This answer made the hedgehog terribly angry, for he could stand anything except remarks about his legs, for by nature they were crooked. 'Do you imagine,' said the hedgehog to the hare, 'that you can accomplish more with your legs?' 'I should think so,' said the hare. 'That would depend on the situation,' said the hedgehog. 'I bet, if we were to run a race, I'd pass you up.' 'That is a laugh! You with your crooked legs!' said the hare. 'But for all I care, let it be, if you are so eager. What will we wager?' 'A gold louis d'or and a bottle of brandy,' said the hedgehog. 'Accepted,' said the hare. 'Shake hands, and we can take right off.' 'No, I'm not in such a hurry,' said the hedgehog. 'I'm very hungry. First I want to go home and eat a little breakfast. I'll be back here at this spot in a half hour.' The hare was agreeable with this, and the hedgehog left. On his way home the hedgehog thought to himself, 'The hare is relying on his long legs, but I'll still beat him. He may well be a distinguished gentleman, but he's still a fool, and he'll be the one to pay.' Arriving home, he said to his wife, 'Wife, get dressed quickly. You've got to go out to the field with me.' 'What's the matter?' said his wife. 'I bet a gold louis d'or and a bottle of brandy with the hare that I could beat him in a race, and you should be there too.' 'My God, man,' the hedgehog's wife began to cry, 'are you mad? Have you entirely lost your mind? How can you agree to run a race with the hare?' 'Hold your mouth, woman,' said the hedgehog. 'This is my affair. Don't get mixed up in men's business. Hurry up now, get dressed, and come with me.' What was the hedgehog's wife to do? She had to obey, whether she wanted to or not. As they walked toward the field together, the hedgehog said to his wife, 'Now pay attention to what I tell you. You see, we are going to run the race down the long field. The hare will run in one furrow and I in another one. We'll begin running from up there. All you have to do is to stand here in the furrow, and when the hare approaches from the other side, just call out to him, 'I'm already here.'' With that they arrived at the field, the hedgehog showed his wife her place, then he went to the top of the field. When he arrived the hare was already there. 'Can we start?' said the hare. 'Yes, indeed,' said the hedgehog. 'On your mark!' And each one took his place in his furrow. The hare counted 'One, two, three,' and he tore down the field like a windstorm. But the hedgehog ran only about three steps and then ducked down in the furrow and remained there sitting quietly. When the hare, in full run, arrived at the bottom of the field, the hedgehog's wife called out to him, 'I'm already here!' The hare, startled and bewildered, thought it was the hedgehog himself, for as everyone knows, a hedgehog's wife looks just like her husband. The hare thought, 'Something's not right here.' He called out, 'Let's run back again!' And he took off again like a windstorm, with his ears flying from his head. But the hedgehog's wife remained quietly in place. When the hare arrived at the top, the hedgehog called out to him, 'I'm already here!' The hare, beside himself with excitement, shouted, 'Let's run back again!' 'It's all right with me,' answered the hedgehog. 'For all I care, as often as you want.' So the hare ran seventy-three more times, and the hedgehog always kept up with him. Each time the hare arrived at the top or the bottom of the field, the hedgehog or his wife said, 'I am already here!' But the hare did not complete the seventy-fourth time. In the middle of the field, with blood flowing from his neck, he fell dead to the ground. The hedgehog took the gold louis d'or and the bottle of brandy he had won, called his wife from her furrow, and happily they went back home. And if they have not died, then they are still alive. Thus it happened that the hedgehog ran the hare to death on the Buxtehude Heath, and since that time no hare has agreed to enter a race with a hedgehog. The moral of this story is, first, that no one, however distinguished he thinks himself, should make fun of a lesser man, even if this man is a hedgehog. And second, when a man marries, it is recommended that he take a wife from his own class, one who looks just like him. In other words, a hedgehog should always take care that his wife is also a hedgehog, and so forth. Hase und der Igel,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, no. 187. (1853). The Grimms received this tale in 1840 from Karl Georg Firnhaber, a professor in Kassel. Firnhaber apparently copied the Low German text almost verbatim from a fable written by Wilhelm Christian Schröder and published anonymously in the Hannoversches Volksblatt, no. 51 (April 26, 1840). Hare and the Hedgehog in a separate file.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Hare and the Tortoise (Clouston),Aesop (retold by William Alexander Clouston),Type 275A.,"William Alexander Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions: Their Migrations and Transformations, vol. 1, (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1887), pp. 266-67.","'Let us make a match,' replied the tortoise. 'I'll run you five miles for five pounds, and the fox yonder shall be umpire of the race.' The hare agreed, and away they both started together; but the hare, by reason of her exceeding swiftness, outran the tortoise to such a degree that she made a jest of the matter, and finding herself a little tired, squatted in a tuft of fern that grew by the way, and took a nap, thinking that if the tortoise went by, she could at any time fetch him up with all the ease imaginable. In the meanwhile the tortoise came jogging along at a slow but continued pace, and the hare, out of too great security and confidence of victory, oversleeping herself, the tortoise arrived at the end of the race first.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Hare and the Tortoise (Jacobs),Aesop (retold by Joseph Jacobs),Type 275A.,"Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Aesop (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1902), no. 68, pp. 162-63. First published 1894.","The hare was once boasting of his speed before the other animals. 'I have never yet been beaten,' said he, 'when I put forth my full speed. I challenge anyone here to race with me.' The tortoise said quietly, 'I accept your challenge.' 'That is a good joke,' said the hare. 'I could dance around you all the way.' 'Keep your boasting until you've beaten,' answered the tortoise. 'Shall we race?' So a course was fixed and a start was made. The hare darted almost out of sight at once, but soon stopped and, to show his contempt for the tortoise, lay down to have a nap. The tortoise plodded on and plodded on, and when the hare awoke from his nap, he saw the tortoise nearing the finish line, and he could not catch up in time to save the race. Moral: Plodding wins the race.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Hare and The Tortoise (Croxall),Aesop (translated by Samuel Croxall),Type 275A.,"Samuel Croxall, Fables of Æsop and Others: Translated into English, with Instructive Applications, (Philadelphia: Simon Probasco, 1831), no. 154, pp. 287-88.","A hare insulted the tortoise upon account of his slowness, and vainly boasted of her great speed in running. 'Let us make a match,' replied the tortoise. 'I will run with you five miles for five pounds, and the fox yonder shall be umpire of the race.' The hare agreed, and away they both started together. But the hare, by reason of her exceeding swiftness, outran the tortoise to such a degree, that she made a jest of the matter; and finding herself a little tired squatted in a tuft of fern, that grew by the way, and took a nap; thinking that if the tortoise went by, she could at any time fetch him up, with all the ease imaginable. In the meanwhile, the tortoise came jogging on, with a slow but continued motion; and the hare, out of a too great security and confidence of victory, oversleeping herself, the tortoise arrived at the end of the race first. THE APPLICATION Industry and application to business makes amends for the want of a quick and ready wit. Hence it is, that the victory is not always to the strong, nor the race to the swift. Men of fine parts are apt to despise the drudgery of business; but by affecting to show the superiority of their genius, upon many occasions, they run into too great an extreme the other way; and the administration of their affairs is ruined through idleness and neglect. What advantage has a man from the fertility of his invention, and the vivacity of his imagination, unless his resolutions are executed with a suitable and uninterrupted rapidity? In short, your men of wit and fire, as they are called, are often times sots, slovens, and lazy fellows; they are generally proud and conceited to the last degree; and in the main, not the fittest persons for either conversation or business. -- Such is their vanity, they think the sprightliness of their humor inconsistent with a plain sober way of thinking and speaking, and able to atone for all the little neglects of their business and person. But the world will not be thus imposed upon: the man who would gain the esteem of others, and make his own fortune, must be one that carries his point effectually, and finishes his course without swerving and loitering. Men of dull parts, and slow apprehension, assisted by a continued diligence, are more likely to attain this, than your brisk retailers of wit, with their affected spleen and indolence. And, if business be but well done, no matter whether it be done by the sallies of a refined wit, or the considering head of a plain plodding man. of Æsop and Others: Translated into English, with Instructive Applications, (Philadelphia: Simon Probasco, 1831), no. 154, pp. 287-88.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Hare and The Tortoise (Jones),Aesop (translated by V. S. Vernon Jones),Type 275A.,"Aesop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (New York: Barnes and Noble, 2003), no. 117, pp. 113-14. Based on the edition London: W. Heinemann, 1912.","'Oh, well,' replied the hare, who was much amused at the idea, 'let's try and see.' And it was soon agreed that the fox should set a course for them and be the judge. When the time came both started off together, but the hare was soon so far ahead that he thought he might as well have a rest. So down he lay and fell fast asleep. Meanwhile the tortoise kept plodding on, and in time reached the goal. At last the hare woke up with a start and dashed on at his fastest, but only to find that the tortoise had already won the race. Slow and steady wins the race.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Hare and the Tortoise [1],"USA, Ambrose Bierce",A parody of type 275A.,"Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), pp. 176-77.","A hare having ridiculed the slow movements of a tortoise, was challenged by the latter to run a race, a fox to go to the goal and be the judge. They got off well together, the hare at the top of her speed, the tortoise, who had no other intention than making his antagonist exert herself, going very leisurely. After sauntering along for some time he discovered the hare by the wayside, apparently asleep, and seeing a chance to win pushed on as fast as he could, arriving at the goal hours afterward, suffering from extreme fatigue and claiming the victory. 'Not so,' said the fox; 'the hare was here long ago, and went back to cheer you on your way.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Hare and Tortoise,Jean de La Fontaine,Link to the original French text 'Le Lièvre et la Tortue.' Type 275A.,"Jean de La Fontaine, The Fables of La Fontaine, translated by Robert Thomson (London: J. C. Nimmo and Bain, 1884), book 6, fable 10, p. 127.","To run is nothing; we must timely start. The hare and tortoise here shall teach the art. 'Let's bet,' the tortoise said, 'my clever spark, Which, you or I, the first shall gain that mark.' 'The first? What, are you mad?' the hare replied, 'Take hellebore and purge; your talk is wide.' 'Well, mad or not, I'll bet!' the tortoise cried. -- The stakes accordingly were paid, And near the winning-post were laid. What were the stakes we won't say in this place, Nor who it was that judged the race. The hare had scarce four jumps to make, Of such as, nearly caught, he's wont to take; Leaving the hounds behind, who then may wait For the Greek Kalends, roaming until late. Taking his time, to feast at ease, And list and sniff whence comes the breeze, The hare lets now the tortoise go, Like a grave bishop pacing slow. And now behold the tortoise gone, Toiling, hastening slowly on. The hare the bet but little priced, And such a victory despised; He thought, in his great pride of heart, 'Twas yet too soon for him to start. So, browsing, resting at his ease, Oblivious of his bet, he sees The tortoise the wished goal about to gain, He sprang like lightning, but he sprang in vain. The tortoise won just as the hare took flight. 'Well,' she exclaimed, 'good runner, was I right? What means your swiftness, yielding thus to me? And if you bore your house, what would it be?' Fables of La Fontaine, translated by Robert Thomson (London: J. C. Nimmo and Bain, 1884), book 6, fable 10, p. 127.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Race (Parsons2),African American,"Parsons' informant: Mary Smith of Lincoln, Pennsylvania. Type 275A.","Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 30, no. 116 (April - June 1917), p. 214.","So the tortoise said to the rabbit, 'I'll run a race with you.' So the rabbit laughed at the tortoise. So the rabbit asked where he wanted to run a race to. The tortoise said, 'Down to the river, where the water lilies grew.' And the rabbit said, 'You'll grow old and die before you get there.' But the turtle said to the rabbit, 'Who shall we have for a judge to this race?' An' the rabbit said, 'We'll get Mr. Wolf for a judge.' So they said, one, two, three, an' away they went. So the rabbit ran right fast till he got in sight of the river where the water lilies grew. And he lay down in the shade to rest. While he was resting, he fell fast asleep. And when he awoke again, it was the next day at dinnertime. So he was very hungry; and he ran into a near field an' eat some clover, an' he didn't know that the tortoise had passed him while he was asleep. So after he had ate his dinner, he ran right fast to the goal. But who should he find when he got there, waiting for him, but the tortoise who he had laughed at the day before.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Race (Parsons3),American Indian (Pueblo),Type 275C.,"Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Pueblo-Indian Folk-Tales, Probably of Spanish Provenience,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 31 (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1918), pp. 221-22.","The bow priests [apilashiwanni] of the winners went over to see Hawk. They said to him, 'We wish to have a race. We wish you and Mole to run against each other.' Hawk said, 'When is the race to be run?' They said, 'We wish to have it tomorrow.' Hawk said, 'No, we cannot have it tomorrow. You must wait four days.' The bow priest of the losers went to Mole. He said, 'We want to have a race between you and Hawk.' Mole said, 'When is the race to be run?' 'We wish to have it tomorrow.' Mole said, 'No, we cannot have it tomorrow. You must wait four days.' The day before the race they collected the stakes: beads, red and white, and turquoise. The night before, Mole went to the houses of the others (i.e., the other moles), and told them at different places, as Hawk should come along, to stick out their heads. Mole said, 'About that time urinate and wet yourselves, so that, when Hawk comes up and sees you, he will think you are sweating.' Mole went to his house and stayed there all night. Hawk staid in his house all night. The next day they brought the stakes into the plaza. When they had finished laying the bets, Mole said to Hawk, 'Which direction shall we take? I will go under ground, and you above ground.' Hawk said, 'Let us go by Matsakya, Tsililiima, Tekiapoi, Awiela, Alihemula, Kopachia, Telaluwaiela, Akiapoella, Kushinolko, Matsakya.' As soon as they started off, Mole went into his hole and staid in it. Hawk flew on to Tsililiima. There a mole poked out his head, and called out, 'Keep on! We are running together. Keep on as you are!' Then he went back underground. Hawk flew on to Tekiapoi. There another mole poked out his head, and called out, 'Keep on! We are running together. Keep on as you are!' Meanwhile Mole, he who made the bet, prayed to his father the sun, and the clouds began to gather. By the time Kopachia was reached and the mole there looked out of the hole, Hawk was behind. The mole waited. He said, 'If you don't make haste, I shall leave you behind.' By that time the rain was falling fast. When Hawk reached Telaluwaiela, he was wet through. At Akiapoella, Hawk was wobbling, he was drenched. The mole there said, 'You best make haste, I am leaving you far behind. I had to wait here for you a long time.' Hawk could hardly fly. At Matsakya, Mole jumped out where the things were piled, and said, 'That is the way to win a race.' Mole won everything: the beads, the turquoise. He took them all to his house. Hawk lost everything. He was so muddy he could scarcely fly.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Race Between Turtle and Frog,American Indian (Sanpoil),Type 275C.,"Marian K. Gould, 'Sanpoil Tales.' In: Franz Boas, editor, Folk-Tales of Salishan and Sahaptin Tribes, collected by James A. Teit, Livingston Farrand, Marian K. Gould, and Herbert J. Spinden (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1917), p. 111.","At one time there was a race proposed between Turtle and Frog. All the people bet that Frog would win. Mud-Turtle asked for three days to let his friends know about the race. The race-course was very uneven: low and high ground, rolling meadow. Turtle bet his back against Frog's tail. On the third day Turtle was given head start. Frog stood there taking more bets. Finally he started, and ahead in a low place he saw Turtle going out of sight. Each time he looked ahead he saw Turtle going out of sight. He hurried faster and faster, but did not overtake him. Just as he crossed the last low ground he saw Turtle over the line. He had to give up his tail. It took six turtles to beat him, but he lost the race. Now the pollywogs have to lose their tails before they can become frogs.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Snail and the Deer,Philippines (Visayan),Type 275C.,"W. H. Millington and Berton L. Maxfield, 'Visayan Folk-Tales III,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 20, no. 79 (October-December 1907), p. 315.","The deer made fun of the snail because of his slowness, so the latter challenged the former to a race. 'We will race to the well on the other side of the plaza,' said the snail. 'All right,' replied the deer. On the day of the race the deer ran swiftly to the well, and when he got there he called, 'Mr. Snail, where are you?' 'Here I am,' said the snail, sticking his head up out of the well. The deer was very much surprised, so he said, 'I will race you to the next well.' 'Agreed,' replied the snail. When the deer arrived at the next well, he called as before, 'Mr. Snail, where are you?' 'Here I am,' answered the snail. 'Why have you been so slow? I have been here a long time waiting for you.' The deer tried again and again, but always with the same result; until the deer in disgust dashed his head against a tree and broke his neck. Now the first snail had not moved from his place, but he had many cousins in each of the wells of the town and each exactly resembled the other. Having heard the crows talking of the proposed race, as they perched on the edge of the wells to drink, they determined to help their cousin to win it, and so, as the deer came to each well, there was always a snail ready to stick his head out and answer 'Here I am' to the deer's inquiry. III,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 20, no. 79 (October-December 1907), p. 315.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The The King Crow and the Water Snail,Malaya,Type 275C.,"Walter Skeat, Fables and Folk-Tales from an Eastern Forest (Cambridge: University Press, 1901), pp. 33-35.","A water snail was coming upstream from the lower reaches, when a king crow heard it. Said the king crow to himself, 'Who can it be coming upstream, that exclaims so loudly at the rapids? One might say it was a man, but that there is nothing to be seen.' So the king crow settled on a tree to watch, but as he could see nothing from his perch on the tree he flew down to the ground, and walked along by the waterside. And when he thought to see some man exclaiming, he caught sight of the water snail. 'Hullo, you there,' said he, 'where do you come from?' 'I come from the eddy below the rapids,' said the water snail, 'and I only want to get as far as the headwaters of this river.' Said the king crow, 'Wait a bit. Suppose you go down to the river mouth as quickly as you can, and we will have a wager on it.' (Now rivers are the water snail's domain, in which he has many comrades.) 'What is to be the stake?' asked the water snail. 'If I am beaten I will be your slave, and look after your aroids and wild caladiums (on which the water snails feed). Then the king crow asked, 'And what will you stake?' The water snail replied, 'If I am beaten the river shall be handed over to you, and you shall be king of the river.' But the water snail begged for a delay of twice seven days, saying that he felt knocked up after ascending the rapids. And the delay was granted accordingly. Meanwhile however the water snail hunted up a great number of his friends and instructed them to conceal themselves in each of the higher reaches of the river, and to reply immediately when the king crow challenged them. The day arrived, and the king crow flew off, and in each of the higher reaches the water snail's friends replied to the challenge. And at the river mouth the water snail replied in person. So the king crow was defeated and has ever since remained the slave of the water snail. Forest (Cambridge: University Press, 1901), pp. 33-35.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,The Tortoise and the Stag,Brazil,This story is one episode from the longer account entitled 'Tale of a Tortoise and of a Mischievous Monkey' (pp. 327-42). Type 275C.,"Andrew Lang, The Brown Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1904), pp. 330-31.","One day, when the tortoise was basking in the sun, a stag passed by, and stopped for a little conversation. 'Would you care to see which of us can run fastest?' asked the tortoise, after some talk. The stag thought the question so silly that he only shrugged his shoulders. 'Of course, the victor would have the right to kill the other,' went on the tortoise. 'Oh, on that condition I agree,' answered the deer, 'but I am afraid that you are a dead man.' 'It is no use trying to frighten me,' replied the tortoise. 'But I should like three days for training; then I shall be ready to start when the sun strikes on the big tree at the edge of the great clearing.' The first thing the tortoise did was to call his brothers and his cousins together, and he posted them carefully under ferns all along the line of the great clearing, making a sort of ladder which stretched for many miles. This done to his satisfaction, he went back to the starting The stag was quite punctual, and as soon as the sun's rays struck the trunk of the tree the stag started off, and was soon far out of the sight of the tortoise. Every now and then he would turn his head as he ran, and call out, 'How are you getting on?' and the tortoise who happened to be nearest at the moment would answer, 'All right, I am close up to you.' Full of astonishment, the stag would redouble his efforts, but it was no use. Each time he asked, 'Are you there?' the answer would come, 'Yes, of course, where else should I be?' And the stag ran, and ran, and ran, till he could run no more, and dropped down dead on the grass. And the tortoise, when he thinks about it, laughs still. (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1904), pp. 330-31. Tortoise and of a Mischievous Monkey' (pp. 327-42).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,Tortoise in a Race,West Africa,Type 275C.,"Robert H. Nassau: Where Animals Talk: West African Folk Lore Tales (London: Duckworth and Company, 1914), pp. 95-98.","Persons Kudu (Tortoise) Mbalanga (Antelope) Note Discussions about seniority are common causes of quarrel in Africa. The reason assigned why tortoises are so spread everywhere is that the antelope tribe, in public meeting, recognized their superiority. At Batanga, Gaboon, Ogowe, and everywhere on the equatorial west coast, there are tortoises even in places where there are no other animals. On account of this, the tortoise is given many names; and has many nicknames in the native tribes, e. g., 'Manyima,' and 'Evosolo.' Tortoise had formerly lived in the same town with several other animals. But, after awhile, they had decided to separate, and each built his own village. One day, Tortoise decided to roam. So he started, and went on an excursion; leaving his wife and two children in the village. On his way, he came to the village of Antelope. The latter welcomed him, killed a fowl, and prepared food for him; and they sat at the table, eating. When they had finished eating, Antelope asked, 'Kudu! My friend, what is your journey for?' Tortoise answered, 'I have come to inquire of you, as to you and me, which is the elder?' Antelope replied, 'Kudu! I am older than you!' But Tortoise responded, 'No! I am the elder!' Then Antelope said, 'Show me the reason why you are older than I!' Tortoise said, continuing the discussion, 'I will show you a sign of seniority. Let us have a race, as a test of speed.' Antelope replied derisively, 'Aiye! how shall I know to test speed with Kudu? Does Kudu race?' However, he agreed, and said, 'Well! in three days the race shall be made.' Tortoise spoke audaciously, 'You, Mbalanga, cannot surpass me in a race!' Antelope laughed, having accepted the challenge; while Tortoise pretended to sneer, and said, 'I am the one who will overcome!' The course chosen, beginning on the beach south of Batanga, was more than seventy miles from the Campo River northward to the Balimba Country. Then Tortoise went away, going everywhere to give directions, and returned to his village. He sent word secretly to all the Tortoise Tribe to call them. When they had come very many of them together, he told them, 'I have called my friend Mbalanga for a race. I know that he can surpass me in this race, unless you all help me in my plan. He will follow the sea-beach. You all must line yourselves among the bushes at the top of the beach along the entire route all the way from Campo to Balimba. When Mbalanga, coming along, at any point, looks around to see whether I am following, and calls out, 'Kudu! where are you?' the one of you who is nearest that spot must step out from his place, and answer for me, 'Here!'' Thus he located all the other tortoises in the bushes on the entire route. Also, he placed a colored mark on all the tortoises, making the face of every one alike. He stationed them clear on to the place where he expected that Antelope would be exhausted. Then he ended, taking his own place there. Antelope also arranged for himself, and said, to his wife, 'My wife! make me food; for, Kudu and I have agreed on a race; and it begins at seven o'clock in the morning.' When all was ready, Antelope said, to (the one whom he supposed was) Kudu, 'Come! let us race!' They started. Antelope ran on and on, and came as far as about ten miles to the town of Ubenji, among the Igara people. At various spots on the way Tortoise apparently was lost behind; but as constantly he seemed to reappear, saying, 'I'm here!' At once, Antelope raced forward rapidly, pu! pu! pu! to a town named Ipenyenye. Then he looked around and said, 'Where is Kudu?' A tortoise stepped out of the bushes, saying 'Here I am! You haven't raced.' Antelope raced on until he reached the town of Beya. Again looking around, he said, 'Where is Kudu?' A tortoise stepped out, replying, 'I'm here!' Antelope again raced, until he reached the town Lolabe. Again he asked, 'Where is Kudu?' A tortoise saying to himself, 'He hasn't heard anything,' replied, 'Here I am!' Again Antelope raced on as far as from there to a rocky point by the sea named Ilale-ja-moto; and then he called, 'Wherever is Kudu?' A tortoise ready answered, 'Here I am!' From thence, he came on in the race another stretch of about tea miles, clear to the town of Bongaheli of the Batanga people. At each place on the route, when Antelope, losing sight of Tortoise, called, 'Kudu! where are you?' promptly the tortoise on guard at that spot replied, 'I'm here!' Then on he went, steadily going, going, another stretch of about twenty miles to Plantation Beach. Still the prompt reply to Antelope's call, 'Kudu, where are you?' was, 'I'm here!' As he started away from Plantation, the wearied Antelope began to feel his legs tired. However, he pressed on to Small Batanga, hoping for victory over his despised contestant. But, on his reaching the edge of Balimba, the tortoise was there ready with his, 'I'm here!' Finally, on reaching the end of the Balimba settlement, Antelope fell down, dying, froth coming from his mouth, and lay dead, being utterly exhausted with running. But, when Tortoise arrived, he took a magic medicine, and restored Antelope to life; and then exulted over him by beating him, and saying, 'Don't you show me your audacity another day by daring to run with me! I have surpassed you!' So, they returned separately to their homes on the Campo River. Tortoise called together the Tortoise Tribe; and Antelope called all the Antelope Tribe. And they met in a Council of all the Animals. Then Tortoise rose and spoke, 'All you Kudu Tribe! Mbalanga said I would not surpass him in a race. But, this day I have surpassed!' So the Antelope Tribe had to acknowledge, 'Yes, you, Kudu, have surpassed our champion. It's a great shame to us; for, we had not supposed that a slow fellow such as we thought you to be, could possibly do it, or be able to outrun a Mbalanga.' So the Council decided that, of all the tribes of animals, Tortoise was to be held as greatest; for, that it had outrun Antelope. And the Animals gave Tortoise the power to rule.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,Turtle's Race,American Indian (Ojibwa),"Radin's source: 'Told by George Fisher, Muncie.' Type 275C.","Paul Radin, Some Myths and Tales of the Ojibwa of Southeastern Ontario (Ottawa: Government Printing Bureau, 1914), pp. 43-44.","Once a Turtle lived in an inland lake, but stayed on the shore most of the time. The Turtle always believed that there was no one who could fool him. One day Nanbush was walking along the shore, when he saw a pike in the water, which he decided to catch. He jumped in but missed the fish, so he thought he would wash his hands and make some soup. He went on and saw someone else in the water. He called out, 'Well, my brother, is this where you live?' 'Yes,' the stranger answered, 'This is where I live, and I am the chief.' Whereupon Nanbush said, 'I never saw you before.' Then the Turtle-chief said, 'Tomorrow I expect to take part in a race and I am betting my life on it.' Nanbush asked him, 'Whom are you going to race?' 'I am going to race an elk,' said the chief, 'and now I am going to get ready.' He placed other turtles around the lake and told them what to do, and then he was ready for the race. Nanbush saw the elk the next morning, and it looked very fat and good to eat. He said to himself, 'The Turtle will probably give a feast after the race. I will be there and see who will win.' Soon they were ready to start. By means of his brother turtles, the chief won and the elk was beaten. Then the Turtle killed the elk. Nanbush stayed, hoping to get some of this meat, but the Turtle said, 'I am going to feed all my children and there will not be enough meat to go around.' Whereupon Nanbush proposed that he should carry the meat home for them. The Turtle agreed to this and went home to wait for Nanbush. Nanbush, however, took the meat to his own home and there ate it all.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,"Turtle's Race, Second Version",American Indian (Ojibwa),"Radin's source: 'Told by John Henry, Kettle Point.' Type 275C.","Paul Radin, Some Myths and Tales of the Ojibwa of Southeastern Ontario (Ottawa: Government Printing Bureau, 1914), p. 44.","The Turtle said, 'I know one who would beat you.' 'Would you go and get him?' said the men. The Turtle said, 'I am the one.' So the men challenged him, but he would only race on one condition, and that was that he might run under the water and go around the lake close to the shore, and in order that they might know where he was he would tie a red ribbon around his neck. The men then asked the Turtle what he would bet for the race, and the Turtle answered, 'My life.' Then the men said, 'Well, tomorrow morning you get ready and come around with that ribbon around your neck, and we will race you.' During the night the Turtle called together some of his brothers, and tied a red ribbon round each of their necks. Then he placed them a distance apart all around the lake. In the morning the Turtle went to the place which they had picked out as their starting point, and found the men already there. When the word 'go' was given, the boat started off and the Turtle dropped underneath the surface of the water. When the Turtle rose to the surface again, the boat was right abreast of him, and when the Turtle rose a second time, the boat people noticed that the Turtle was gaining on them. When finally, the last Turtle rose, the boat was only half way round. The Turtle won the race and got the reward.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,Two Fast Runners,American Indian (Blackfeet),Type 275.,"George Bird Grinnell, Blackfeet Indian Stories (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1913), pp. 1-2.","Once, a long time ago, the antelope and the deer happened to meet on the prairie. They spoke together, giving each other the news, each telling what he had seen and done. After they had talked for a time the antelope told the deer how fast he could run, and the deer said that he could run fast too, and before long each began to say that he could run faster than the other. So they agreed that they would have a race to decide which could run the faster, and on this race they bet their galls. When they started, the antelope ran ahead of the deer from the very start and won the race and so took the deer's gall. But the deer began to grumble and said, 'Well, it is true that out here on the prairie you have beaten me, but this is not where I live. I only come out here once in a while to feed or to cross the prairie when I am going somewhere. It would be fairer if we had a race in the timber. That is my home, and there I can run faster than you. I am sure of it.' The antelope felt so glad and proud that he had beaten the deer in the race that he was sure that wherever they might run he could beat him, so he said, 'All right, I will run you a race in the timber. I have beaten you out here on the flat and I can beat you there.' On this race they bet their dew-claws. They started and ran this race through the thick timber, among the bushes, and over fallen logs, and this time the antelope ran slowly, for he was afraid of hitting himself against the trees or of falling over the logs. You see, he was not used to this kind of traveling. So the deer easily beat him and took his dew-claws. Since that time the deer has had no gall and the antelope no dew-claws. Indian Stories (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1913), pp. 1-2.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
275,Why Does the Buffalo Walk Slowly and Tread Gently?,Romania,Type 275.,"M. Gaster, Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: The Folk-Lore Society, 1915), no. 107, pp. 315-16.","Both did run very fast, and neither would give in to the other. So it went on year after year, and there seemed to be no end to the strife. Tired of this constant fight, one day the hare said to the buffalo, 'Let us try a race together and settle this quarrel once for all.' The buffalo was well contented with the proposal, and they agreed to race one another. When the day came, the hare, putting his ears back, started the race. He ran so fast that you might have said he was flying upon the ground. But the buffalo was a match for him. He went thundering away, his hoofs splashing the mud and raising seas of mire. The earth shook at his furious tread. He soon overtook the breathless hare which was running, panting as fast as its little legs could carry it. Then a thought struck the hare, and he cried to the buffalo, 'Ho, friend! Take heed how you are thundering along. The earth is shaking, and if you are not careful, the earth will give way under you. See how it is rocking under your feet.' When the buffalo heard the hare's story, he stopped still for a while bewildered, and then, being frightened, lest the earth should give way under him and he sink beneath, he checked his pace and began to walk slowly and tread gently. That was just what the hare had wanted, and pulling a long nose at the buffalo, he ran swiftly by, leaving the buffalo a long way behind. Thus he won the race, and there was no longer any strife between the hares and the buffaloes. But ever since the buffalo walks slowly and treads lightly upon the ground.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1415,Gudbrand on the Hillside,"Norway, Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe",NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a man whose name was Gudbrand. He had a farm which lay far, far away upon a hillside, and so they called him Gudbrand on the Hillside. Now, you must know that this man and his wife lived so happily together, and understood one another so well, that all the husband did the wife thought so well done, that there was nothing like it in the world, and she was always glad whatever he turned his hand to. The farm was their own land, and they had a hundred dollars lying at the bottom of their chest, and two cows tethered up in a stall in their farmyard. So one day his wife said to Gudbrand, 'Do you know, dear, I think we ought to take one of our cows into town and sell it. That's what I think, for then we shall have some money in hand, and such well-to-do people as we ought to have ready money like the rest of the world. As for the hundred dollars at the bottom of the chest over there, we can't make a hole in them, and I'm sure I don't know what we want with more than one cow. Besides, we shall gain a little in another way, for then I shall get off with only looking after one cow, instead of having, as now, to feed and litter and water two.' Well, Gudbrand thought his wife talked right good sense, so he set off at once with the cow on his way to town to sell her. But when he got to the town, there was no one who would buy his cow. 'Well, well! Never mind,' said Gudbrand. 'At the worst, I can only go back home again with my cow. I've both stable and tether for her, I should think, and the road is no farther out than in,' and with that he began to toddle home with his cow. But when he had gone a bit of the way, a man met him who had a horse to sell, so Gudbrand thought it was better to have a horse than a cow, so he swapped with the man. A little farther on he met a man walking along and driving a fat pig before him, and he thought it better to have a fat pig than a horse, so he swapped with the man. After that he went a little farther, and a man met him with a goat; so he thought it better to have a goat than a pig, and he swapped with the man that owned the goat. Then he went on a good bit till he met a man who had a sheep, and he swapped with him too, for he thought it always better to have a sheep than a goat. After a while he met a man with a goose, and he swapped away the sheep for the goose. And when he had walked a long, long time, he met a man with a rooster, and he swapped with him, for he thought in this wise, 'It is surely better to have a rooster than a goose.' Then he went on till the day was far spent, and he began to get very hungry, so he sold the rooster for a shilling, and bought food with the money, for, thought Gudbrand on the Hillside, 'It is always better to save one's life than to have a rooster.' After that he went on toward home till he reached his nearest neighbor's house, where he turned in. 'Well,' said the owner of the house, 'how did things go with you in town?' 'Rather so so,' said Gudbrand. 'I can't praise my luck, nor do I blame it either,' and with that he told the whole story from first to last. 'Ah!' said his friend, 'you'll get nicely called over the coals, that one can see, when you get home to your wife. Heaven help you. I wouldn't stand in your shoes for anything.' 'Well,' said Gudbrand on the Hillside, 'I think things might have gone much worse with me. But now, whether I have done wrong or not, I have so kind a wife, she never has a word to say against anything that I do.' 'Oh!' answered his neighbor, 'I hear what you say, but I don't believe it for all that.' 'Shall we lay a bet upon it?' asked Gudbrand on the Hillside. 'I have a hundred dollars at the bottom of my chest at home. Will you lay as many against them?' Yes, the friend was ready to bet, so Gudbrand stayed there till evening, when it began to get dark, and then they went together to his house, and the neighbor was to stand outside the door and listen, while the man went in to see his wife. 'Good evening!' said Gudbrand on the Hillside. 'Good evening!' said the wife. 'Oh, is that you? Now God be praised.' Yes, it was he. So the wife asked how things had gone with him in town. 'Oh, only so so,' answered Gudbrand. 'Not much to brag of. When I got to town there was no one who would buy the cow, so you must know I swapped it away for a horse.' 'For a horse,' said his wife. 'Well, that is good of you. Thanks with all my heart. We are so well-to-do that we may drive to church just as well as other people, and if we choose to have a horse, we have a right to get one, I should think. So run out, child, and put up the horse.' 'Ah!' said Gudbrand, 'but you see, I've not got the horse after all, for when I got a bit farther down the road, I swapped it away for a pig.' 'Think of that, now!' said the wife. 'You did just as I should have done myself. A thousand thanks! Now I can have a bit of bacon in the house to set before people when they come to see me, that I can. What do we want with a horse? People would only say we had got so proud that we couldn't walk to church. Go out, child, and put up the pig in the sty.' 'But I've not got the pig either,' said Gudbrand, 'for when I got a little farther on I swapped it away for a milk goat.' 'Bless us!' cried his wife, 'How well you manage everything! Now I think it over, what should I do with a pig? People would only point at us and say, 'Yonder they eat up all they have got.' No! Now I have got a goat, and I shall have milk and cheese, and keep the goat too. Run out, child, and put up the goat.' 'No, but I haven't got the goat either,' said Gudbrand, 'for a little farther on I swapped it away, and got a fine sheep instead.' 'You don't say so!' cried his wife. 'Why, you do everything to please me, just as if I had been with you. What do we want with a goat? If I had it I should lose half my time in climbing up the hills to bring it in. No! If I have a sheep, I shall have both wool and clothing, and fresh meat in the house. Run out, child, and put up the sheep.' 'But I haven't got the sheep any more than the rest,' said Gudbrand, 'for when I had gone a bit farther I swapped it away for a goose.' 'Thank you! Thank you, with all my heart!' cried his wife. 'What should I do with a sheep? I have no spinning wheel nor carding comb, nor should I care to worry myself with cutting, and shaping, and sewing clothes. We can buy clothes now, as we have always done; and now I shall have roast goose, which I have longed for so often; and, besides, down to stuff my little pillow with. Run out, child, and put up the goose.' 'Ah!' said Gudbrand, 'but I haven't the goose either, for when I had gone a bit farther I swapped it away for a rooster.' 'Dear me!' cried his wife. 'How you think of everything! Just as I should have done myself. A rooster! Think of that! Why it's as good as an eight-day clock, for every morning the rooster crows at four o'clock, and we shall be able to stir ourselves in good time. What should we do with a goose? I don't know how to cook it, and as for my pillow, I can stuff it with grass. Run out, child, and put up the rooster.' 'But after all I haven't got the rooster,' said Gudbrand, 'for when I had gone a bit farther, I got as hungry as a hunter, so I was forced to sell the rooster for a shilling, for fear I should starve.' 'Now, God be praised that you did so!' cried his wife. 'Whatever you do, you do it always just after my own heart. What should we do with the rooster? We are our own masters, I should think, and can lie in bed in the morning as long as we like. Heaven be thanked that I have got you safely back again, you who do everything so well that I want neither rooster nor goose, neither pigs nor cows.' Then Gudbrand opened the door and said, 'Well, what do you say now? Have I won the hundred dollars?' And his neighbor was forced to admit that he had.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1415,Hans in Luck,"Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm",NA,NA,"Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said to him, 'Master, my time is up, now I would like to go back home to my mother. Give me my wages.' The master answered, 'You have served me faithfully and honestly. As the service was, so shall the reward be.' And he gave Hans a piece of gold as big as his head. Hans pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped up the lump in it, put it on his shoulder, and set out on the way home. As he went on, always putting one leg before the other, he saw a horseman trotting quickly and merrily by on a lively horse. 'Ah,' said Hans quite loud, 'what a fine thing it is to ride. There you sit as on a chair, never stumbling over a stone, saving your shoes, and making your way without even knowing it.' The rider, who had heard him, stopped and called out, 'Hey there, Hans, then why are you going on foot?' 'I must,' answered he, 'for I have this lump to carry home. It is true that it is gold, but I cannot hold my head straight for it, and it hurts my shoulder.' 'I will tell you what,' said the rider. 'Let's trade. I will give you my horse, and you can give me your lump.' 'With all my heart,' said Hans. 'But I can tell you, you will be dragging along with it.' The rider got down, took the gold, and helped Hans up, then gave him the bridle tight in his hands and said, 'If you want to go fast, you must click your tongue and call out, 'jup, jup.'' Hans was heartily delighted as he sat upon the horse and rode away so bold and free. After a little while he thought that it ought to go faster, and he began to click with his tongue and call out, 'jup, jup.' The horse started a fast trot, and before Hans knew where he was, he was thrown off and lying in a ditch which separated the fields from the highway. The horse would have escaped if it had not been stopped by a peasant, who was coming along the road and driving a cow before him. Hans pulled himself together and stood up on his legs again, but he was vexed, and said to the peasant, 'It is a poor joke, this riding, especially when one gets hold of a mare like this, that kicks and throws one off, so that one has a chance of breaking one's neck. Never again will I mount it. Now I like your cow, for one can walk quietly behind her, and moreover have one's milk, butter, and cheese every day without fail. What would I not give to have such a cow?' 'Well,' said the peasant, 'if it would give you so much pleasure, I do not mind trading the cow for the horse.' Hans agreed with the greatest delight, and the peasant jumped upon the horse and rode quickly away. Hans drove his cow quietly before him, and thought over his lucky bargain. 'If only I have a morsel of bread -- and that can hardly fail me -- I can eat butter and cheese with it as often as I like. If I am thirsty, I can milk my cow and drink the milk. My goodness, what more can I want?' When he came to an inn he stopped, and to celebrate his good fortune, he ate up everything he had with him -- his dinner and supper -- and all he had, and with his last few farthings had half a glass of beer. Then he drove his cow onwards in the direction of his mother's village. As noon approached, the heat grew more oppressive, and Hans found himself upon a moor which would take at least another hour to cross. He felt very hot, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth with thirst. 'I can find a cure for this,' thought Hans. 'I will milk the cow now and refresh myself with the milk.' He tied her to a withered tree, and as he had no pail, he put his leather cap underneath, but try as he would, not a drop of milk came. And because he was working in a clumsy way, the impatient beast at last gave him such a blow on his head with its hind foot, that he fell to the ground, and for a long time did not know where he was. By good fortune a butcher just then came along the road with a pushcart, in which lay a young pig. 'What sort of a trick is this?' he cried, and helped good Hans up. Hans told him what had happened. The butcher gave him his flask and said, 'Take a drink and refresh yourself. The cow will certainly give no milk. It is an old beast. At the best it is only fit for the plow, or for the butcher.' 'Well, well,' said Hans, as he stroked his hair down on his head. 'Who would have thought it? Certainly it is a fine thing when one can slaughter a beast like that for oneself. What meat one has! But I do not care much for beef, it is not juicy enough for me. But to have a young pig like that! It tastes quite different, and there are sausages as well.' 'Listen, Hans,' said the butcher. 'To do you a favor, I will trade, and will let you have the pig for the cow.' 'God reward you for your kindness,' said Hans as he gave up the cow. The pig was unbound from the cart, and the cord by which it was tied was put in his hand. Hans went on, thinking to himself how everything was going just as he wished. If anything troublesome happened to him, it was immediately set right. Presently he was joined by a lad who was carrying a fine white goose under his arm. They greeted one another, and Hans began to tell of his good luck, and how he had always made such good trades. The boy told him that he was taking the goose to a christening feast. 'Just heft her,' he added, taking hold of her by the wings. 'Feel how heavy she is. She has been fattened up for the last eight weeks. Anyone who bites into her after she has been roasted will have to wipe the fat from both sides of his mouth.' 'Yes,' said Hans, hefting her with one hand, 'she weighs a lot, but my pig is not so bad either.' Meanwhile the lad looked suspiciously from one side to the other, and shook his head. 'Look here, he said at last. 'It may not be all right with your pig. In the village through which I passed, the mayor himself had just had one stolen out of its sty. I fear -- I fear that you have got hold of it there. They have sent out some people and it would be a bad business if they caught you with the pig. At the very least, you would be shut up in the dark hole. Good Hans was terrified. 'For goodness' sake,' he said. 'help me out of this fix. You know more about this place than I do. Take my pig and leave me your goose.' 'I am taking a risk,' answered the lad, 'but I do not want to be the cause of your getting into trouble.' So he took the cord in his hand, and quickly drove the pig down a bypath. Good Hans, free from care, went homewards with the goose under his arm. 'When I think about it properly,' he said to himself, 'I have even gained by the trade. First there is the good roast meat, then the quantity of fat which will drip from it, and which will give me goose fat for my bread for a quarter of a year, and lastly the beautiful white feathers. I will have my pillow stuffed with them, and then indeed I shall go to sleep without being rocked. How glad my mother will be!' As he was going through the last village, there stood a scissors grinder with his cart, as his wheel whirred he sang, I sharpen scissors and quickly grind, My coat blows out in the wind behind. Hans stood still and looked at him. At last he spoke to him and said, 'All's well with you, as you are so merry with your grinding.' 'Yes,' answered the scissors grinder, 'this trade has a golden foundation. A real grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his pocket finds gold in it. But where did you buy that fine goose?' 'I did not buy it, but traded my pig for it.' 'And the pig?' ' I got it for a cow.' 'And the cow?' 'I got it for a horse.' 'And the horse?' 'For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.' 'And the gold?' 'Well, that was my wages for seven years' service.' 'You have known how to look after yourself each time,' said the grinder. 'If you can only get on so far as to hear the money jingle in your pocket whenever you stand up, you will have made your fortune.' 'How shall I manage that?' said Hans. 'You must become a grinder, as I am. Nothing particular is needed for it but a grindstone. Everything else takes care of itself. I have one here. It is certainly a little worn, but you need not give me anything for it but your goose. Will you do it?' 'How can you ask?' answered Hans. 'I shall be the luckiest fellow on earth. If I have money whenever I put my hand in my pocket, why should I ever worry again?' And he handed him the goose and received the grindstone in exchange. 'Now,' said the grinder, picking up an ordinary heavy stone that lay nearby, 'here is another good stone for you as well, which you can use to hammer on and straighten your old nails. Carry it along with you and take good care of it.' Hans loaded himself with the stones, and went on with a contented heart, his eyes shining with joy. 'I must have been born with lucky skin,' he cried. 'Everything I want happens to me just as if I were a Sunday's child.' Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak, he began to feel tired. Hunger also tormented him, for in his joy at the bargain by which he got the cow he had eaten up all his store of food at once. At last he could only go on with great difficulty, and was forced to stop every minute. The stones, too, weighed him down dreadfully, and he could not help thinking how nice it would be if he would not have to carry them just then. He crept like a snail until he came to a well in a field, where he thought that he would rest and refresh himself with a cool drink of water. In order that he might not damage the stones in sitting down, he laid them carefully by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down on it, and was about to bend over and drink, when he slipped, pushed against the stones, and both of them fell into the water. When Hans saw them with his own eyes sinking to the bottom, he jumped for joy, and then knelt down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for having shown him this favor also, and delivered him in so good a way, and without his having any need to reproach himself, from those heavy stones which had been the only things that troubled him. 'No one under the sun is as fortunate as I am,' he cried out. With a light heart and free from every burden he now ran on until he was at home with his mother.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1415,The Story of Mr. Vinegar,"England, James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps",NA,NA,"Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle. Now one day, when Mr. Vinegar was away from home, Mrs. Vinegar, who was a very good housewife, was busily sweeping her house, when an unlucky thump of the broom brought the whole house clitter-clatter, clitter-clatter, about her ears. In a paroxysm of grief she rushed forth to meet her husband. On seeing him she exclaimed, 'Oh, Mr. Vinegar, Mr. Vinegar, we are ruined, we are ruined. I have knocked the house down, and it is all to pieces!' Mr. Vinegar then said, 'My dear, let us see what can be done. Here is the door; I will take it on my back, and we will go forth to seek our fortune.' They walked all that day, and at nightfall entered a thick forest. They were both excessively tired, and Mr. Vinegar said, 'My love, I will climb up into a tree, drag up the door, and you shall follow.' He according did so, and they both stretched their weary limbs on the door, and fell fast asleep. In the middle of the night Mr. Vinegar was disturbed by the sound of voices beneath, and to his inexpressible dismay perceived that a party of thieves were wet to divide their booty. 'Here, Jack,' said one, 'here's five pounds for you. Here, Bill, here's ten pounds for you. Here, Bob, here's three pounds for you.' Mr. Vinegar could listen no longer. His terror was so intense that he trembled most violently, and shook down the door on their heads. Away scampered the thieves, but Mr. Vinegar dared not quit his retreat till broad daylight. He then scrambled out of the tree, and went to lift up the door. What did he behold but a number of golden guineas! 'Come down, Mrs. Vinegar,' he cried. 'Come down, I say. Our fortune's made, our fortune's made! Come down, I say.' Mrs. Vinegar got down as fast as she could, and saw the money with equal delight. 'Now, my dear,' said she, 'I'll tell you what you shall do. There is a fair at the neighboring town. You shall take these forty guineas and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese, which you shall sell at market, and we shall then be able to live very comfortably.' Mr. Vinegar joyfully assents, takes the money, and goes off to the fair. When he arrived, he walked up and down, and at length saw a beautiful red cow. It was an excellent milker, and perfect in every respect. 'Oh!' thought Mr. Vinegar, 'If I had but that cow I should be the happiest man alive.' So he offers the forty guineas for the cow, and the owner declaring that, as he was a friend, he'd oblige him, the bargain was made. Proud of his purchase, he drove the cow backwards and forwards to show it. By and by he saw a man playing the bagpipes, tweedle-dum, tweedle-dee. The children followed him about, and he appeared to be pocketing money on all sides. 'Well,' thought Mr. Vinegar, 'if I had but that beautiful instrument I should be the happiest man alive. My fortune would be made.' So he went up to the man, 'Friend,' says he, 'what a beautiful instrument that is, and what a deal of money you must make.' 'Why, yes,' said the man, 'I make a great deal of money, to be sure, and it is a wonderful instrument.' 'Oh!' cried Mr. Vinegar, 'how I should like to possess it!' 'Well,' said the man, 'as you are a friend, I don't much mind parting with it. You shall have it for that red cow.' 'Done,' said the delighted Mr. Vinegar. So the beautiful red cow was given for the bagpipes. He walked up and down with his purchase, but in vain he attempted to play a tune, and instead of pocketing pence, the boys followed him hooting, laughing, and pelting. Poor Mr. Vinegar, his fingers grew very cold, and, heartily ashamed and mortified, he was leaving the town, when he met a man with a fine thick pair of gloves. 'Oh, my fingers are so very cold,' said Mr. Vinegar to himself. 'If I had but those beautiful gloves I should be the happiest man alive.' He went up to the man, and said to him, 'Friend, you seem to have a capital pair of gloves there.' 'Yes, truly,' cried the man; 'and my hands are as warm as possible this cold November day.' 'Well,' said Mr. Vinegar, 'I should like to have them.' 'What will you give?' said the man. 'As you are a friend, I don't much mind letting you have them for those bagpipes.' 'Done,' cried Mr. Vinegar. He put on the gloves, and felt perfectly happy as he trudged homewards. At last he grew very tired, when he saw a man coming towards him with a good stout stick in his hand. 'Oh,' said Mr. Vinegar, 'that I had but that stick! I should then be the happiest man alive.' He accosted the man, 'Friend! What a rare good stick you have got.' 'Yes,' said the man, 'I have used it for many a long mile, and a good friend it has been, but if you have a fancy for it, as you are a friend, I don't mind giving it to you for that pair of gloves.' Mr. Vinegar's hands were so warm, and his legs so tired, that he gladly exchanged. As he drew near to the wood where he had left his wife, he heard a parrot on a tree calling out his name, 'Mr. Vinegar, you foolish man, you blockhead, you simpleton; you went to the fair and laid out all your money in buying a cow. Not content with that, you changed it for bagpipes on which you could not play, and which were not worth one tenth of the money. You fool, you -- you had no sooner got the bagpipes than you changed them for the gloves, which were not worth one quarter of the money; and when you had got the gloves, you changed them for a poor miserable stick; and now for your forty guineas, cow, bagpipes, and gloves, you have nothing to show but that poor miserable stick, which you might have cut in any hedge.' On this the bird laughed immoderately, and Mr. Vinegar, falling into a violent rage, threw the stick at its head. The stick lodged in the tree, and he returned to his wife without money, cow, bagpipes, gloves, or stick, and she instantly gave him such a sound cudgeling that she almost broke every bone in his skin.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1415,What the Old Man Does Is Always Right,"Denmark, Hans Christian Andersen",NA,NA,"I will tell you a story that was told me when I was a little boy. Every time I thought of this story, it seemed to me more and more charming; for it is with stories as it is with many people -- they become better as they grow older. I have no doubt that you have been in the country, and seen a very old farmhouse, with a thatched roof, and moss and small plants growing wild upon it. There is a stork's nest on the ridge of the gable, for we cannot do without the stork. The walls of the house are sloping, and the windows are low, and only one of them is made to open. The baking oven sticks out of the wall like a great knob. An elder tree hangs over the fence; and beneath its branches, at the foot of the fence, is a pool of water with a few ducks. There is a watchdog too, who barks at everyone. Just such a farmhouse as this stood in a country lane; and in it lived an old couple, a peasant and his wife. Small as their possessions were, they had one article they could not do without, and that was a horse, which contrived to live upon the grass that it found by the side of the highroad. The old peasant rode into the town upon this horse, and his neighbors often borrowed it from him, and paid for the loan of it by rendering some service to the old couple. After a time they thought it would be as well to sell the horse, or exchange it for something which might be more useful to them. But what might this something be? 'You'll know best, old man,' said the wife. 'It is market day today; so ride into town, and get rid of the horse for money, or make a good exchange; whichever you do will be right to me, so ride to the market.' And she fastened his neckerchief for him; for she could do that better than he could, and she could also tie it very prettily in a double bow. She also smoothed his hat round and round with the palm of her hand, and gave him a kiss. Then he rode away upon the horse that was to be sold or bartered for something else. Yes, the old man knew what he was about. The sun shone with great heat, and not a cloud was to be seen in the sky. The road was very dusty; for a number of people, all going to market, were driving, riding, or walking upon it. There was no shelter anywhere from the hot sunshine. Among the rest a man came trudging along, and driving a cow to the fair. The cow was as beautiful a creature as any cow could be. 'She gives good milk, I am certain,' said the peasant to himself. 'That would be a very good exchange: the cow for the horse. Hallo there! you with the cow,' he said. 'I tell you what; I dare say a horse is of more value than a cow; but I don't care for that. A cow will be more useful to me; so, if you like, we'll exchange.' 'To be sure I will,' said the man. Accordingly the exchange was made; and as the matter was settled, the peasant might have turned back; for he had done the business he came to do. But, having made up his mind to go to market, he determined to do so, if only to have a look at it; so on he went to the town with his cow. Leading the animal, he strode on sturdily, and, after a short time, overtook a man who was driving a sheep. It was a good fat sheep, with fine fleece on its back. 'I should like to have that fellow,' said the peasant to himself. 'There is plenty of grass for him by our fence, and in the winter we could keep him in the room with us. Perhaps it would be more profitable to have a sheep than a cow. Shall I exchange?' The man with the sheep was quite ready, and the bargain was quickly made. And then our peasant continued his way on the highroad with his sheep. Soon after this, he overtook another man, who had come onto the road from a field, and was carrying a large goose under his arm. 'What a heavy creature you have there!' said the peasant; 'it has plenty of feathers and plenty of fat, and would look well tied to a string, or paddling in the water at our place. That would be very useful to my old woman. She could make all sorts of profits out of it. How often she has said, 'If now we only had a goose!' Now here is an opportunity, and, if possible, I will get it for her. Shall we exchange? I will give you my sheep for your goose, and thanks into the bargain.' The other had not the least objection, and accordingly the exchange was made, and our peasant became possessor of the goose. By this time he had arrived very near the town. The crowd on the highroad had been gradually increasing, and there was quite a rush of men and cattle. The cattle walked on the path and by the fence, and at the turnpike gate they even walked into the gatekeeper's potato field, where a chicken was strutting about with a string tied to its leg, for fear it should take fright at the crowd, and run away and get lost. The chicken's tail feathers were very short, and it winked with both its eyes, and looked very cunning, as it said 'cluck, cluck.' What were the thoughts of the chicken as it said this I cannot tell you; but as soon as our good man saw it, he thought, 'Why that's the finest chicken I ever saw in my life; it's finer than our parson's brood hen, upon my word. I should like to have that chicken. Chickens can always pick up a few grains that lie about, and almost keep themselves. I think it would be a good exchange if I could get it for my goose. Shall we exchange?' he asked the gatekeeper. 'Exchange,' repeated the man; 'well, it would not be a bad thing.' And so they made an exchange. The gatekeeper at the turnpike gate kept the goose, and the peasant carried off the chicken. Now he had really done a great deal of business on his way to market, and he was hot and tired. He wanted something to eat, and a glass of ale to refresh himself; so he turned his steps to an inn. He was just about to enter when the innkeeper came out, and they met at the door. The innkeeper was carrying a sack. 'What have you in that sack?' asked the peasant. 'Rotten apples,' answered the innkeeper; 'a whole sackful of them. They will do to feed the pigs with.' 'Why that will be terrible waste,' he replied; 'I should like to take them home to my old woman. Last year the old apple tree by the grass plot only bore one apple, and we kept it in the cupboard till it was quite withered and rotten. It was always property, my old woman said; and here she would see a great deal of property -- a whole sackful; I should like to show them to her.' 'What will you give me for the sackful?' asked the innkeeper. 'What will I give? Well, I will give you my chicken in exchange.' So he gave up the chicken, and received the apples, which he carried into the inn parlor. He leaned the sack carefully against the stove, and then went to the table. But the stove was hot, and he had not thought of that. Many guests were present -- horse dealers, cattle drovers, and two Englishmen. The Englishmen were so rich that their pockets quite bulged out and seemed ready to burst; and they could bet too, as you shall hear. 'Hiss-s-s, hiss-s-s.' What could that be by the stove? The apples were beginning to roast. 'What is that?' asked one. 'Why, do you know' -- said our peasant. And then he told them the whole story of the horse, which he had exchanged for a cow, and all the rest of it, down to the apples. 'Well, your old woman will give it you well when you get home,' said one of the Englishmen. 'Won't there be a noise?' 'What! Give me what?' said the peasant. 'Why, she will kiss me, and say, 'what the old man does is always right.'' 'Let us lay a wager on it,' said the Englishmen. 'We'll wager you a ton of coined gold, a hundred pounds to the hundredweight.' 'No; a bushel will be enough,' replied the peasant. 'I can only set a bushel of apples against it, and I'll throw myself and my old woman into the bargain; that will pile up the measure, I fancy.' 'Done! taken!' and so the bet was made. Then the landlord's coach came to the door, and the two Englishmen and the peasant got in, and away they drove, and soon arrived and stopped at the peasant's hut. 'Good evening, old woman.' 'Good evening, old man.' 'I've made the exchange.' 'Ah, well, you understand what you're about,' said the woman. Then she embraced him, and paid no attention to the strangers, nor did she notice the sack. 'I got a cow in exchange for the horse.' 'Thank Heaven,' said she. 'Now we shall have plenty of milk, and butter, and cheese on the table. That was a capital exchange.' 'Yes, but I changed the cow for a sheep.' 'Ah, better still!' cried the wife. 'You always think of everything; we have just enough pasture for a sheep. Ewe's milk and cheese, woolen jackets and stockings! The cow could not give all these, and her hair only falls off. How you think of everything!' 'But I changed away the sheep for a goose.' 'Then we shall have roast goose to eat this year. You dear old man, you are always thinking of something to please me. This is delightful. We can let the goose walk about with a string tied to her leg, so she will be fatter still before we roast her.' 'But I gave away the goose for a chicken.' 'A chicken! Well, that was a good exchange,' replied the woman. 'The chicken will lay eggs and hatch them, and we shall have chicks; we shall soon have a poultry yard. Oh, this is just what I was wishing for.' 'Yes, but I exchanged the chicken for a sack of shriveled apples.' 'What! I really must give you a kiss for that!' exclaimed the wife. 'My dear, good husband, now I'll tell you something. Do you know, almost as soon as you left me this morning, I began to think of what I could give you nice for supper this evening, and then I thought of fried eggs and bacon, with sweet herbs. I had eggs and bacon, but I lacked the herbs, so I went over to the schoolmaster's. I knew they had plenty of herbs, but the schoolmistress is very mean, although she can smile so sweetly. I begged her to lend me a handful of herbs. 'Lend!' she exclaimed, 'I have nothing to lend. Nothing at all grows in our garden, not even a shriveled apple. I could not even lend you a shriveled apple, my dear woman. But now I can lend her ten, or a whole sackful, which I'm very glad of. It makes me laugh to think about it.' And then she gave him a hearty kiss. 'Well, I like all this,' said both the Englishmen; 'always going down the hill, and yet always merry; it's worth the money to see it.' So they paid a hundredweight of gold to the peasant, who, whatever he did, was not scolded but kissed. Yes, it always pays best when the wife sees and maintains that her husband knows best, and whatever he does is right. That is a story which I heard when I was a child; and now you have heard it too, and know that 'what the old man does is always right.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2034F,The Monkey with the Tom-Tom,Southern India,"The word pariah, taken from the caste of the same name, comes from the Tamil work paraiyan, which literally means drummer.","Mrs Howard [Georgiana Wolff] Kingscote, and Natêsá Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), no. 14, pp. 187-189.","In a remote wood there lived a monkey, and one day while he was eating wood-apples, a sharp thorn from the tree ran into the tip of his tail. He tried his best to get it out, but could not. So he proceeded to the nearest village, and calling the barber, asked him to oblige him by removing the thorn. 'Friend barber,' said the monkey, 'a thorn has run into my tail. Kindly remove it, and I will reward you.' The barber took up his razor and began to examine the tail. But as he was cutting out the thorn, he cut off the tip of the tail. The monkey was greatly enraged and said, 'Friend barber, give me back my tail. If you cannot do that, give me your razor.' The barber was now in a difficulty, and as he could not replace the tip of the tail, he had to give up his razor to the monkey. The monkey went back to the wood with his razor thus trickishly acquired. On the way he met an old woman who was cutting fuel from a dried-up tree. 'Grandmother, grandmother,' said the monkey, 'the tree is very hard. You had better use this sharp razor, and you will cut your fuel easily.' The poor woman was very pleased, and took the razor from the monkey. In cutting the wood she, of course, blunted the razor, and the monkey, seeing his razor thus spoiled, said, 'Grandmother, you have spoiled my razor, so you must either give me your fuel or get me a better razor.' The woman was not able to procure another razor, so she gave the monkey her fuel and returned to her house bearing no load that day. The roguish monkey now put the bundle of dry fuel on his head and proceeded to a village to sell it. There he met an old woman seated by the roadside and making puddings. Said the monkey to her, 'Grandmother, grandmother, you are making puddings and your fuel is already exhausted. Use mine also and make more cakes.' The old lady thanked him for his kindness and used his fuel for her puddings. the cunning monkey waited till the last stick of his fuel was burnt up, and then he said to the old woman, ' Grandmother, grandmother, return me my fuel or give me all your puddings.' She was unable to return him the fuel, and so had to give him all her puddings. The monkey with the basket of puddings on his head walked and walked till he met a Pariah [member of a low caste] coming with his tom-tom towards him. 'Brother Pariah,' said the monkey, 'I have a basketful of puddings to give you. Will you, in return, present me with your tom-tom?' The Pariah gladly agreed, as he was then very hungry, and had nothing with him to eat. The monkey now ascended with the tom-tom to the topmost branch of a big tree and there beat his drum most triumphantly, saying in honor of his several tricks: I lost my tail and got a razor; dum, dum. I lost my razor and got a bundle of fuel; dum, dum. I lost my fuel and got a basket of puddings; dum, dum. I lost my puddings and got a tom-tom; dum, dum. Thus there are rogues in this innocent world, who live to glory over their wicked tricks. Natêsá Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London: W. H. Allen and Company, 1890), no. 14, pp. 187-189. from the Tamil work paraiyan, which literally means drummer.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2034F,The Rat's Wedding,Northern India,NA,"Steel, Flora Annie, Tales of the Punjab: Told by the People (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), pp. 13-23.","Once upon a time a fat sleek rat was caught in a shower of rain, and being far from shelter he set to work and soon dug a nice hole in the ground, in which he sat as dry as a bone while the raindrops splashed outside, making little puddles on the road. Now in the course of his digging he came upon a fine bit of root, quite dry and fit for fuel, which he set aside carefully -- for the rat is an economical creature -- in order to take it home with him. So when the shower was over, he set off with the dry root in his mouth. As he went along, daintily picking his way through the puddles, he saw a poor man vainly trying to light a fire, while a little circle of children stood by, and cried piteously. 'Goodness gracious!' exclaimed the rat, who was both soft-hearted and curious, 'what a dreadful noise to make! What is the matter?' 'The bairns [children] are hungry,' answered the man; 'they are crying for their breakfast, but the sticks are damp, the fire won't burn, and so I can't bake the cakes.' 'If that is all your trouble, perhaps I can help you,' said the good-natured rat; 'you are welcome to this dry root, and I'll warrant it will soon make a fine blaze.' The poor man, with a thousand thanks, took the dry root, and in his turn presented the rat with a morsel of dough, as a reward for his kindness and generosity. 'What a remarkably lucky fellow I am!' thought the rat, as he trotted off gaily with his prize, 'and clever too! Fancy making a bargain like that: food enough to last me five days in return for a rotten old stick! Wah! wah! wah! What it is to have brains!' Going along, hugging his good fortune in this way, he came presently to a potter's yard, where the potter, leaving his wheel to spin round by itself, was trying to pacify his three little children, who were screaming and crying as if they would burst. 'My gracious!' cried the rat, stopping his ears, 'what a noise! Do tell me what it is all about.' 'I suppose they are hungry,' replied the potter ruefully. 'Their mother has gone to get flour in the bazaar, for there is none in the house. In the meantime I can neither work nor rest because of them.' 'Is that all!' answered the officious rat. 'Then I can help you. Take this dough, cook it quickly, and stop their mouths with food.' The potter overwhelmed the rat with thanks for his obliging kindness, and choosing out a nice well-burnt pipkin, [an earthen pot], insisted on his accepting it as a remembrance. The rat was delighted at the exchange, and though the pipkin was just a trifle awkward for him to manage, he succeeded after infinite trouble in balancing it on his head, and went away gingerly, tink-a-tink, tink-a-tink, down the road, with his tail over his arm for fear he should trip on it. And all the time he kept saying to himself, 'What a lucky fellow I am! and clever too! Such a hand at a bargain!' By and by he came to where some neatherds [herdsmen] were herding their cattle. One of them was milking a buffalo, and having no pail he used his shoes instead. 'Oh fie! oh fie!' cried the cleanly rat, quite shocked at the sight. 'What a nasty dirty trick! Why don't you use a pail?' 'For the best of all reasons: We haven't got one!' growled the neatherd, who did not see why the rat should put his finger in the pie. 'If that is all,' replied the dainty rat, 'oblige me by using this pipkin, for I cannot bear dirt!' The neatherd, nothing loath, took the pipkin, and milked away until it was brimming over. Then turning to the rat, who stood looking on, said, 'Here, little fellow, you may have a drink, in payment.' But if the rat was good-natured he was also shrewd. 'No, no, my friend,' said he, 'that will not do! As if I could drink the worth of my pipkin at a draught! My dear sir, I couldn't hold it! Besides, I never make a bad bargain, so I expect you at least to give me the buffalo that gave the milk.' 'Nonsense!' cried the neatherd. 'A buffalo for a pipkin! Who ever heard of such a price? And what on earth could you do with a buffalo when you got it? Why, the pipkin was about as much as you could manage.' At this the rat drew himself up with dignity, for he did not like allusions to his size. 'That is my affair, not yours,' he retorted. 'Your business is to hand over the buffalo.' So just for the fun of the thing, and to amuse themselves at the rat's expense, the neatherds loosed the buffalo's halter and began to tie it to the little animal's tail. 'No! no!' he called, in a great hurry. 'If the beast pulled, the skin of my tail would come off, and then where should I be? Tie it round my neck, if you please.' So with much laughter the neatherds tied the halter round the rat's neck, and he, after a polite leave-taking, set off gaily towards home with his prize; that is to say, he set off with the rope, for no sooner did he come to the end of the tether than he was brought up with a round turn. The buffalo, nose down grazing away, would not budge until it had finished its tuft of grass, and then seeing another in a different direction marched off towards it, while the rat, to avoid being dragged, had to trot humbly behind, willy-nilly. He was too proud to confess the truth, of course, and, nodding his head knowingly to the neatherds, said, 'Ta-ta, good people! I am going home this way. It may be a little longer, but it's much shadier.' And when the neatherds roared with laughter he took no notice, but trotted on, looking as dignified as possible. 'After all,' he reasoned to himself, 'when one keeps a buffalo one has to look after its grazing. A beast must get a good bellyful of grass if it is to give any milk, and I have plenty of time at my disposal.' So all day long he trotted about after the buffalo, making believe. But by evening he was dead tired, and felt truly thankful when the great big beast, having eaten enough, lay down under a tree to chew the cud. Just then a bridal party came by. The bridegroom and his friends had evidently gone on to the next village, leaving the bride's palanquin [litter] to follow; so the palanquin bearers, being lazy fellows and seeing a nice shady tree, put down their burden, and began to cook some food. 'What detestable meanness!' grumbled one. 'A grand wedding, and nothing but plain rice pottage to eat! Not a scrap of meat in it, neither sweet nor salt! It would serve the skinflints right if we upset the bride into a ditch!' 'Dear me!' cried the rat at once, seeing a way out of his difficulty, 'that is a shame! I sympathize with your feelings so entirely that if you will allow me I'll give you my buffalo. You can kill it, and cook it.' 'Your buffalo!' returned the discontented bearers, 'what rubbish! Whoever heard of a rat owning a buffalo?' 'Not often, I admit,' replied the rat with conscious pride; 'but look for yourselves. Can you not see that I am leading the beast by a string?' 'Oh, never mind the string!' cried a great big hungry bearer. 'Master or no master, I mean to have meat to my dinner!' Whereupon they killed the buffalo, and, cooking its flesh, ate their dinner with relish. Then, offering the remains to the rat, said carelessly, 'Here, little Rat-Skin, that is for you!' 'Now look here!' cried the rat hotly; 'I'll have none of your pottage, nor your sauce either. You don't suppose I am going to give my best buffalo, that gave quarts and quarts of milk -- the buffalo I have been feeding all day -- for a wee bit of rice? No! I got a loaf for a bit of stick. I got a pipkin for a little loaf. I got a buffalo for a pipkin. And now I'll have the bride for my buffalo -- the bride, and nothing else!' By this time the servants, having satisfied their hunger, began to reflect on what they had done, and becoming alarmed at the consequences, arrived at the conclusion it would be wisest to make their escape whilst they could. So, leaving the bride in her palanquin, they took to their heels in various directions. The rat, being as it were left in possession, advanced to the palanquin, and drawing aside the curtain, with the sweetest of voices and best of bows begged the bride to descend. She hardly knew whether to laugh or to cry, but as any company, even a rat's, was better than being quite alone in the wilderness, she did as she was bidden, and followed the lead of her guide, who set off as fast as he could for his hole. As he trotted along beside the lovely young bride, who, by her rich dress and glittering jewels, seemed to be some king's daughter, he kept saying to himself, 'How clever I am! What bargains I do make, to be sure!' When they arrived at his hole, the rat stepped forward with the greatest politeness, and said, 'Welcome, madam, to my humble abode! Pray step in, or if you will allow me, and as the passage is somewhat dark, I will show you the way.' Whereupon he ran in first, but after a time, finding the bride did not follow, he put his nose out again, saying testily, 'Well, madam, why don't you follow? Don't you know it's rude to keep your husband waiting?' 'My good sir,' laughed the handsome young bride, 'I can't squeeze into that little hole!' The rat coughed. Then after a moment's thought he replied, 'There is some truth in your remark. You are overgrown, and I suppose I shall have to build you a thatch somewhere. For tonight you can rest under that wild plum-tree.' 'But I am so hungry!' said the bride ruefully. 'Dear, dear! everybody seems hungry today!' returned the rat pettishly; 'however, that's easily settled. I'll fetch you some supper in a trice.' So he ran into his hole, returning immediately with an ear of millet and a dry pea. 'There!' said he, triumphantly, 'isn't that a fine meal?' 'I can't eat that!' whimpered the bride. 'It isn't a mouthful; and I want rice pottage, and cakes; and sweet eggs, and sugar-drops. I shall die if I don't get them!' 'Oh dear me!' cried the rat in a rage, 'what a nuisance a bride is, to be sure! Why don't you eat the wild plums?' 'I can't live on wild plums!' retorted the weeping bride. 'Nobody could. Besides, they are only half ripe, and I can't reach them.' 'Rubbish!' cried the rat. 'Ripe or unripe, they must do you for tonight, and tomorrow you can gather a basketful, sell them in the city, and buy sugar-drops and sweet eggs to your heart's content!' So the next morning the rat climbed up into the plum-tree, and nibbled away at the stalks till the fruit fell down into the bride's veil. Then, unripe as they were, she carried them into the city, calling out through the streets: Green plums I sell! green plums I sell! Princess am I, rat's bride as well! As she passed by the palace, her mother the queen heard her voice, and, running out, recognized her daughter. Great were the rejoicings, for everyone thought the poor bride had been eaten by wild beasts. In the midst of the feasting and merriment, the rat, who had followed the princess at a distance, and had become alarmed at her long absence, arrived at the door, against which he beat with a big knobby stick, calling out fiercely, 'Give me my wife! give me my wife! She is mine by fair bargain. I gave a stick and I got a loaf. I gave a loaf and I got a pipkin. I gave a pipkin and I got a buffalo. I gave a buffalo and I got a bride. Give me my wife! Give me my wife!' 'La! son-in-law! what a fuss you do make!' said the wily old queen, through the door, 'and all about nothing! Who wants to run away with your wife? On the contrary, we are proud to see you, and I only keep you waiting at the door till we can spread the carpets, and receive you in style.' Hearing this, the rat was mollified, and waited patiently outside whilst the cunning old queen prepared for his reception, which she did by cutting a hole in the very middle of a stool, putting a red-hot stone underneath, covering it over with a stew-pan lid, and then spreading a beautiful embroidered cloth over all. Then she went to the door, and receiving the rat with the greatest respect, led him to the stool, praying him to be seated. 'Dear! dear! how clever I am! What bargains I do make, to be sure!' said he to himself as he climbed onto the stool. 'Here I am, son-in-law to a real live queen! What will the neighbors say?' At first he sat down on the edge of the stool, but even there it was warm, and after a while he began to fidget, saying, 'Dear me, mother-in-law! how hot your house is! Everything I touch seems burning!' 'You are out of the wind there, my son,' replied the cunning old queen; 'sit more in the middle of the stool, and then you will feel the breeze and get cooler.' But he didn't! for the stew-pan lid by this time had become so hot, that the rat fairly frizzled when he sat down on it; and it was not until he had left all his tail, half his hair, and a large piece of his skin behind him, that he managed to escape, howling with pain, and vowing that never, never, never again would he make a bargain! People (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), pp. 13-23.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2034F,The Story of a Monkey,Philippines (Ilocano),NA,"Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg and Company, 1916), pp. 183-184.","One day when a monkey was climbing a tree in the forest in which he lived, he ran a thorn into his tail. Try as he would, he could not get it out, so he went to a barber in the town and said, 'Friend barber, I have a thorn in the end of my tail. Pull it out, and I will pay you well.' The barber tried to pull out the thorn with his razor, but in doing so he cut off the end of the tail. The monkey was very angry and cried, 'Barber, barber, give me back my tail, or give me your razor!' The barber could not put back the end of the monkey's tail, so he gave him his razor. On the way home the monkey met an old woman who was cutting wood for fuel, and he said to her, 'Grandmother, grandmother, that is very hard. Use this razor and then it will cut easily.' The old woman was very pleased with the offer and began to cut with the razor, but before she had used it long it broke. Then the monkey cried, 'Grandmother, grandmother, you have broken my razor! You must get a new one for me or else give me all the firewood.' The old woman could not get a new razor, so she gave him the firewood. The monkey took the wood and was going back to town to sell it, when he saw a woman sitting beside the road making cakes. 'Grandmother, grandmother,' said he, 'your wood is most gone. Take this of mine and bake more cakes.' The woman took the wood and thanked him for his kindness, but when the last stick was burned, the monkey cried out, 'Grandmother, grandmother, you have burned up all my wood! Now you must give me all your cakes to pay for it.' The old woman could not cut more dry wood at once, so she gave him all the cakes. The monkey took the cakes and the town, but on the way he met a dog which bit him so that he died. And the dog ate all the cakes. McClurg and Company, 1916), pp. 183-184.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1655,All Change,Europe,"Jacobs, in this collection, has 'restored and retold' some twenty-five traditional tales from various European sources.","Joseph Jacobs, Europa's Fairy Book (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), no. 2, pp. 13-18.","There was once a man who was the laziest man in all the world. He wouldn't take off his clothes when he went to bed because he didn't want to have to put them on again. He wouldn't raise his cup to his lips but went down and sucked up his tea without carrying the cup. He wouldn't play any sports because he said they made him sweat. And he wouldn't work with his hands for the same reason. But at last he found that he couldn't get anything to eat unless he did some work for it. So he hired himself out to a farmer for the season. But all through the harvest he ate as much and worked as little as he could. And when the fall came and he went to get his wages from his master all he got was a single pea. 'What do you mean by giving me this?' he said to his master. 'Why, that is all that your labor is worth,' was the reply. 'You have eaten as much as you have earned.' 'None of your lip,' said the man. 'Give me my pea. At any rate I have earned that.' So when he got it he went to an inn by the roadside and said to the landlady, 'Can you give me lodging for the night, me and my pea?' 'Well, no,' said the landlady, 'I haven't got a bed free, but I can take care of your pea for you.' No sooner said than done. The pea was lodged with the landlady, and the laziest man went and lay in a barn nearby. The landlady put the pea upon a dresser and left it there, and a chicken wandering by saw it and jumped up on the dresser and ate it. So when the laziest man called the next day and asked for his pea the landlady couldn't find it. She said, 'The chicken must have swallowed it.' 'Well, I want my pea,' said the man. 'You had better give me the chicken.' 'Why, what, when, how?' stammered the landlady. 'The chicken is worth thousands of your pea.' 'I don't care for that. It has got my pea inside it, and the only way I can get my pea is to have that which holds the pea.' 'What, give you my chicken for a single pea? Nonsense!' 'Well, if you don't, I'll summon you before the justice.' 'Ah, well, take the chicken and my bad wishes with it.' So off went the man and sauntered along all day, till that night he came to another inn, and asked the landlord if he and his chicken could stop there. He said, 'No, no, we have no room for you, but we can put your chicken in the stable if you like.' So the man said yes and went off for the night. But there was a savage sow in the stable, and during the night she ate up the poor chicken. And when the man came the next morning he said to the landlord, 'Please give me my chicken.' 'I am awfully sorry, sir,' said he, 'but my sow has eaten it up.' The laziest man said, 'Then give me your sow.' 'What, a sow for your chicken? Nonsense! Go away, my man.' 'Then if you don't do that, I'll have you before the justice.' 'Ah, well, take the sow and my curses with it,' said the landlord. And the man took the sow and followed it along the road till he came to another inn, and said to the landlady, 'Have you room for me and my sow?' 'I have not,' said the landlady, 'but I can put your sow up.' So the sow was put in the stable, and the man off to lie in the barn for the night. Now the sow went roaming about the stable, and coming too near the hoofs of the mare, was hit in the forehead and killed by the mare's hoofs. So when the man came in the morning and asked for his sow the landlady said, 'I'm very sorry, sir, but an accident has occurred. My mare has hit your sow in the skull, and she is dead.' 'What, the mare?' 'No, your sow.' 'Then give me the mare.' 'What, my mare for your sow? Nonsense!' 'Well, if you don't I'll take you before the justice. You'll see if it's nonsense.' So after some time the landlady agreed to give the man her mare in exchange for the dead sow. Then the man followed on in the steps of the mare till he came to another inn, and asked the landlord if he could put him up for the night, him and his mare. The landlord said, 'All our beds are full, but you can put the mare up in the stable if you will.' 'Very well,' said the man, and tied the halter of the mare into the ring of the stable. Next morning early the landlord's daughter said to her father, 'That poor mare has had nothing to drink. I'll go and lead it to the river.' 'That is none of your business,' said the landlord. 'Let the man do it himself.' 'Ah, but the poor thing has had nothing to drink. I'll bring it back soon.' So the girl took the mare to the river brink and let it drink the water. But, by chance, the mare slipped into the stream, which was so strong that it carried the mare away. And the young girl ran back to her mother and said, 'Oh mother, the mare fell into the stream and it was carried quite away What shall we do? What shall we do?' When the man came round that morning he said, 'Please give me my mare.' 'I'm very sorry indeed, sir, but my daughter -- that one there -- wanted to give the poor thing a drink and took it down to the river and it fell in and was carried away by the stream. I'm very sorry indeed.' 'Your sorrow won't pay my loss,' said the man. 'The least you can do is to give me your daughter.' 'What, my daughter to you because of the mare!' 'Well, if you don't, I will take you before the justice.' Now the landlord didn't like going before the justice. So after much haggling he agreed to let his daughter go with the man. And they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till at last they came to another inn, which was kept by the girl's aunt, though the man didn't know it. So he went in and said, 'Can you give me beds for me and my girl here?' So the landlady looked at the girl, who said nothing, and said, 'Well, I haven't got a bed for you but I have a bed for her. But perhaps she'll run away.' 'Oh, I will manage that,' said the man. And he went a got a sack and put the girl in it and tied her up. And then he went off. As soon as he was gone the girl's aunt opened the bag and said, 'What has happened, my dear?' And she told the whole story. So the aunt took a big dog and put it in the sack. And when the man came the next morning, he said, 'Where's my girl?' 'There she is, so far as I know.' So he took the sack and put it on his shoulder and went on his was for a time. Then as the sun grew high he sat down under the shade of a tree and thought he would speak to the girl. And when he opened the sack, the big dog flew out at him, and he fell back, and that's the last I heard of him. traditional tales from various European sources.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1655,How the King Recruited His Army,African-American,The three-cent piece mentioned in the storie's opening paragraph is a very small silver American coin minted in the nineteenth century.,"Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus and His Friends: Old Plantation Stories, Songs, and Ballads with Sketches of Negro Character (Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin and Company, 1892), no. 24, pp. 176-89.","One time there was a boy named Tinktum Tidy, and this boy was mighty smart. He was like a slick three-cent piece: little but old. I don't know what they called him in those times, but in these days we'd call him a runt, and laugh at him. Well, this boy had a head on him. He looked like he was all dried up, but never mind that. Those who got ahead of him had to get up long before day, and if they didn't take care, they'd find him up before them. One season, when the blackberries were ripe, he went around and told the folks that if they'd take their baskets and their buckets and go out and get the blackberries, he'd give them half of what they picked. It was so seldom that the folks got a chance to make any extra money that they were mighty glad to have the chance to pick blackberries. So they all went out and picked and picked until they picked two wagonloads of them. Well, this shrunk-up boy, who looked like he scarcely had any sense, he divided fair, there are no two ways about that. He took half and gave them their half back. There was no disputing about it. But then when the folks got their half, they asked themselves what they were going to do with them. They wanted to sell them to Tinktum Tidy, but he said that he had more blackberries than he knew what to do with. After a while the folks said that if they couldn't sell their share of the blackberries, they might just as well put them in Tinktum Tidy's pile, and that is what they did. And then he took the two wagonloads to town and sold them for cash money. By and by some of the longer-headed folks sat down and got to studying about it, and they asked themselves how come they got to go out and pick blackberries for that little bit of a shrunk-up chap. They studied and studied, but the more they studied, the more foolish they felt. Well, the tale got out, and it traveled around and around until the king got wind of it, and he took and sent for Tinktum Tidy. This made the folks that picked the blackberries mighty glad, because they got the idea that the king was going to put the little shrunk-up chap in the calaboose for fooling them. But Tinktum Tidy wasn't scared. He wrapped up a change of clothes in his handkerchief, and put out to where the king stayed. Some of the folks went along to see what was going to come of the little shrunk-up chap that had fooled them. By and by they got to where the king lived, and Tinktum Tidy just marched right in and told them that the king had sent for him. They took him into a big room where there was a whole passel of other folks, and told him to wait there until the king came. Everybody looked at him hard, he was so shrunk-up and puny, and he looked right back at them, just like he was someone of quality. After a while, here came the king. By the time he got settled on the platform, his eye dropped on Tinktum Tidy, and he asked what that runt was doing there. They up and told the king that that was the chap who was making folks pick so many blackberries. When the king heard this, he lay back and laughed fit to kill himself. He called Tinktum Tidy up and asked him all about how he was doing, and then he said, the king did, that Tinktum Tidy must be mighty smart. But Tinktum tidy said that he wasn't the one who was smart. It was the folks who picked the blackberries, because folks than can pick so many in so little time must be smart. Then king put his hand into his pocket and pulled out eleven grains of corn. He said, 'Take this corn and do what you please with it, but what I want from it are eleven strong men to put in my army.' Tinktum Tidy took the corn and tied it up in one corner of his handkerchief. He said, 'Not counting hurricanes and high water, I'll be back in a fortnight. If eleven strong men were as easy to pick as blackberries, I'd send some other folks, but I'll have to go after these men myself.' With that he made his bow, he did, and took his foot in his hand and put out. He traveled all that day, and about night he come to a tavern, and there he stopped. The man asked him where he came from, what his name was, and where he was going. He said he came from Chuckerluckertown, and he name was Tinktum Tidy, and he was going on a long journey. When bedtime came, he called the man into the room and showed him the corn. He said, 'Here are the eleven grains of corn the that king gave me. I'll lay it on the table. I'm afraid the big gander is going to eat it.' The man said he would shut the door so the big gander couldn't get it. Then they all went to bed. Tinktum Tidy waited until everybody was still, and then he got up and dropped the corn through a crack in the floor. Then he went to sleep. The next morning he woke up early and alarmed the neighborhood. He hollered out, 'I told you so! I told you so! The big gander ate the eleven grains of corn that the king gave me! The big gander ate the eleven grains of corn that the king gave me!' Tinktum Tidy hollered so loud and so long that he scared the man. Then the man's old woman stuck her head out of the window and set up a squall. She said, 'Take the big gander and go away from here! Take him and go!' Tinktum Tidy took the big gander under his arm and went poling down the big road. He traveled all that day until night, and he came to another town, and he went and put up at the tavern. When bedtime came, he tied the gander by the leg to the bedstead, and then he called the man. 'Here is the big gander that ate the eleven grains of corn that the king gave me. I'll tie him here, because I'm afraid the bah-bah black sheep will kill him.' The man said, 'The black sheep can't get him here.' In the middle of the night Tinktum Tidy got up and broke the big gander's neck and flung him out into the barnyard. The next morning he got up early and began to holler. He said, 'I told you so! I told you so! Bah-bah black sheep has killed the big gander that ate the eleven grains of corn that the king gave me!' When the man heard him talk of the king, he got scared. It made him shake in his shoes. He said, 'Take bah-bah black sheep and go along! You have fetched me bad luck!' Then Tinktum Tidy fastened bah-bah black sheep with a rope and led him off down the big road. By and by he came to where there was another town, and he went and put up at the tavern. When bedtime came, he called the man. He said, 'Here is the bah-bah black sheep that killed the big gander that ate the eleven grains of corn that the king gave me. I'll tie him here to the bedstead because I'm afraid the brindle cow will hook him.' The man said, 'The brindle cow can't get him in here.' Between midnight and day, Tinktum Tidy got up and killed the black sheep and put him in the lot with the brindle cow. Then he got up early in the morning and began to holler. He said, 'I told you so! I told you so! The brindle cow has killed the bah-bah black sheep that killed the big gander that ate the eleven grains of corn the king gave me!' This made the man feel scared. He said, 'Take the brindle cow and go!' Tinktum Tidy led the brindle cow off down the road and made his way to the next town. He got there by the time night came, and put up at the tavern. When bedtime came he took and called the man. He said, 'Here is the brindle cow that killed the bah-bah black sheep that killed the big gander that ate the eleven grains of corn that the king gave me. I'll tie her here by the chimney where the roan horse can't get her.' The man said, 'I know mighty well the roan horse can't get her here.' Just before day Tinktum Tidy took the brindle cow into the stable and made away with her. Then when daylight came he began to holler. He said, 'I told you so! I told you so! The roan horse has killed the brindle cow that killed the bah-bah black sheep that killed the big gander that ate the eleven grains of corn that the king gave me.' The man got scared when he heard the name of the king, and he said, 'Take the roan horse and go on where you are going!' Tinktum Tidy got on the roan horse and went trotting down the big road. He went on and went on, he did, until he came a place where he had to cross a creek. Close by the road he saw an old man sitting. He looked at the old man, and the old man looked an him. By and by the old man said, 'Howdy, son!' Tinktum Tidy said, 'Howdy, grandsir!' The man said, 'Son, come wipe my eyes!' Tinktum Tidy said, 'I'll wife them, grandsir, if it will do you any good.' Then he got down off the roan horse and wiped the old man's eyes. The old man said, 'Thank you, son! Thank you!' Tinktum Tidy said, 'You are more than welcome, grandsir!' Then he got on the roan hors and was about to ride off. The old man said, 'Son, come scratch my head!' Tinktum Tidy said, 'I'll scratch your head, grandsir, if it will do you any good.' Then he got down off the roan horse and scratched the old man's head. The old man said, 'Thank you, son! Thank you!' Tinktum Tidy said, 'You are more than welcome, grandsir!' Then he started to ride off again, but the old man said, 'Son, come help me up!' Tinktum Tidy said, 'I'll help you up, Grandsir, if it will do you any good!' So he went and helped him up, and it seemed like that when the old man got on his feet he strength came back. He straightened up, he did, and looked lots younger than what he had. He said, 'Son I have been sitting here going on ten years, and you the only one that ever did what I asked him. Some laughed at me and some cussed at me, but all went on their way, and everyone that passed fell in with the eleven robbers that live down the road a piece, and got robbed. Now beings you did what I asked you, I'm more than willing to do what you ask of me.' With that Tinktum Tidy up and told the old man how come he was going along there, and about how the kind wanted him to fetch back eleven strong men to go into the army. The man said, 'Son, they are waiting for you right down the road. Keep right on until you come to where there's a big white house. Ride around that house seven times one way and seven time the other way, and say the words that come into your head. Don't get scared, because I won't be so might far off.' Tinktum Tidy road off down the road, he did, and went on until he came to the big white house. Then he rode around it seven times one way and seven times the other way. He said, 'This is the roan horse that killed the brindle cow that killed the bah-bah black sheep that killed the big gander that ate the eleven grains of corn that the king gave me. I want eleven strong men for the king's army.' And the door of the big white house flew open, and eleven strong men came marching out. By that time the old man had come up, and they asked him what they were to do. He said, 'Mount your horses, sons, and go join the king's army!' So they went, and the king was mighty proud. He looked around at everybody and said, 'I told you so! and He fixed it up so that Tinktum Tidy had just as much as he could eat and mighty little work to do all the rest of his days.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1655,The Boy Who Was Called Thick-Head,Native American,NA,"Cyrus Macmillan, Canadian Fairy Tales (Toronto: S. B. Gundy; London: John Lane, 1922), pp. 40-46.","Three brothers lived with their old Indian mother in the forest near the sea. Their father had long been dead. At his death he had little of the world's goods to his credit and his widow and her sons were very poor. In the place where they dwelt, game was not plentiful, and to get food enough to keep them from want they had often to go far into the forest. The youngest boy was smaller and weaker than the others, and when the two older sons went far away to hunt, they always left him behind, for although he always wished to accompany them they would never allow him to go. He had to do all the work about the house, and all day long he gathered wood in the forest and carried water from the stream. And even when his brothers went out in the springtime to draw sap from the maple trees he was never permitted to go with them. He was always making mistakes and doing foolish things. His brothers called him Thick-Head, and all the people round about said he was a simpleton because of his slow and queer ways. His mother alone was kind to him and she always said, 'They may laugh at you and call you fool, but you will prove to be wiser than all of them yet, for so it was told me by a forest fairy at your birth.' The chief of the people had a beautiful daughter who had many suitors. But her father spurned them all from his door and said, 'My daughter is not yet of age to marry; and when her time of marriage comes, she will only marry the man who can make great profit from hunting.' The two older sons of the old woman decided that one of them must win the girl. So they prepared to set out on a great hunting expedition far away in the northern forest, for it was now autumn, and the hunter's moon had come. The youngest boy wanted to go with them, for he had never been away from home and he wished to see the world. And his mother said he might go. His brothers were very angry when they heard his request, and they said, 'Much good Thick-Head can do us in the chase. He will only bring us bad luck. He is not a hunter but a scullion and a drudge fit only for the fireside.' But his mother commanded them to grant the boy's wish and they had to obey. So the three brothers set out for the north country, the two older brothers grumbling loudly because they were accompanied by the boy they thought a fool. The two older brothers had good success in the chase and they killed many animals deer and rabbits and otters and beavers. And they came home bearing a great quantity of dried meat and skins. They each thought, 'Now we have begun to prove our prowess to the chief, and if we succeed as well next year when the hunter's moon comes again, one of us will surely win his daughter when she is old enough to marry.' But all the youngest boy brought home as a result of his journey into the game country was a large earth-worm as thick as his finger and as long as his arm. It was the biggest earth-worm he had ever seen. He thought it a great curiosity as well as a great discovery, and he was so busy watching it each day that he had no time to hunt. When he brought it home in a box, his brothers said to their mother, 'What did we tell you about Thick-Head? He has now surely proved himself a fool. He has caught only a fat earth-worm in all these weeks.' And they noised it abroad in the village and all the people laughed loudly at the simpleton, until 'Thick-Head's hunt' became a by-word in all the land. But the boy's mother only smiled and said, 'He will surprise them all yet.' The boy kept the earth-worm in a tiny pen just outside the door of his home. One day a large duck came waddling along, and sticking her bill over the little fence of the pen she quickly gobbled up the worm. The boy was very angry and he went to the man who owned the duck, and said, 'Your duck ate up my pet worm. I want my worm.' The man offered to pay him whatever price he asked, but the boy said, ' I do not want your price. I want my worm.' But the man said, ' How can I give you your worm when my duck has eaten it up? It is gone forever.' And the boy said, 'It is not gone. It is in the duck's belly. So I must have the duck.' Then to avoid further trouble the man gave Thick-Head the duck, for he thought to himself, 'What is the use of arguing with a fool?' The boy took the duck home and kept it in a little pen near his home with a low fence around it. And he tied a great weight to its foot so that it could not fly away. He was quite happy again, for he thought, 'Now I have both my worm and the duck.' But one day a fox came prowling along looking for food. He saw the fat duck tied by the foot in the little pen. And he said, 'What good fortune! There is a choice meal for me,' and in a twinkling he was over the fence. The duck quacked and made a great noise, but she was soon silenced. The fox had just finished eating up the duck when the boy, who had heard the quacking, came running out of the house. The fox was smacking his lips after his good meal, and he was too slow in getting away. The boy fell to beating him with a stout club and soon killed him and threw his body into the yard behind the house. And he thought, 'That is not so bad. Now I have my worm and the duck and the fox.' That night an old wolf came through the forest in search of food. He was very hungry, and in the bright moonlight he saw the dead fox lying in the yard. He pounced upon it greedily and devoured it until not a trace of it was left. But the boy saw him before he could get away, and he came stealthily upon him and killed him with a blow of his axe. 'I am surely in good luck,' he thought, 'for now I have the worm and the duck and the fox and the wolf.' But the next day when he told his brothers of his good fortune and his great skill, they laughed at him loudly and said, 'Much good a dead wolf will do you. Before two days have passed it will be but an evil-smelling thing and we shall have to bury it deep. You are indeed a great fool.' The boy pondered for a long time over what they had said, and he thought, 'Perhaps they are right. The dead wolf cannot last long. I will save the skin.' So he skinned the wolf and dried the skin and made a drum from it. For the drum was one of the few musical instruments of the Indians in those old times, and they beat it loudly at all their dances and festivals. The boy beat the drum each evening, and made a great noise, and he was very proud because he had the only drum in the whole village. One day the chief sent for him and said to him, 'I want to borrow your drum for this evening. I am having a great gathering to announce to all the land that my daughter is now of age to marry and that suitors may now seek her hand in marriage. But we have no musical instruments and I want your drum, and I myself will beat it at the dance.' So Thick-Head brought his drum to the chief's house, but he was not very well pleased, because he was not invited to the feast, while his brothers were among the favored guests. And he said to the chief, 'Be very careful. Do not tear the skin of my drum, for I can never get another like it. My worm and my duck and my fox and my wolf have all helped to make it.' The next day he went for his drum. But the chief had struck it too hard and had split it open so that it would now make no sound and it was ruined beyond repair. He offered to pay the boy a great price for it, but the boy said, 'I do not want your price. I want my drum. Give me back my drum, for my worm and the duck and the fox and the wolf are all in it.' The chief said, 'How can I give you back your drum when it is broken? It is gone forever. I will give you anything you desire in exchange for it. Since you do not like the price I offer, you may name your own price and you shall have it.' And the boy thought to himself, 'Here is a chance for good fortune. Now I shall surprise my brothers.' And he said, 'Since you cannot give me my drum, I will take your daughter in marriage in exchange.' The chief was much perplexed, but he had to be true to his word. So he gave his daughter to Thick-Head, and they were married, and the girl brought him much treasure and they lived very happily. And his brothers were much amazed and angered because they had failed. But his mother said, 'I told you he was wiser than you and that he would outwit you yet although you called him Thick-Head and fool. For the forest fairy said it to me at his birth.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1655,The Dead Mouse,The Jataka,"This tale is labeled 'Cullaka-Setthi-Jataka.' I have provided the more descriptive title, 'The Dead Mouse.'","The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell, vol. 1 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1895), no. 4, pp. 19-20.","Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares in Kāsi, the Bodhisatta was born into the Treasurer's family, and growing up, was made Treasurer, being called Treasurer Little. A wise and clever man was he, with a keen eye for signs and omens. One day on his way to wait upon the king, he came on a dead mouse lying on the road; and, taking note of the position of the stars at that moment, he said, 'Any decent young fellow with his wits about him has only to pick that mouse up, and he might start a business and keep a wife.' His words were overheard by a young man of good family but reduced circumstances, who said to himself, 'That's a man who has always got a reason for what he says.' And accordingly he picked up the mouse, which he sold for a farthing at a tavern for their cat. With the farthing he got molasses and took drinking water in a waterpot. Coming on flower gatherers returning from the forest, he gave each a tiny quantity of the molasses and ladled the water out to them. Each of them gave him a handful of flowers, with the proceeds of which, next day, he came back again to the flower grounds provided with more molasses and a pot of water. That day the flower gatherers, before they went, gave him flowering plants with half the flowers left on them; and thus in a little while he obtained eight pennies. Later, one rainy and windy day, the wind blew down a quantity of rotten branches and boughs and leaves in the king's pleasaunce, and the gardener did not see how to clear them away. Then up came the young man with an offer to remove the lot, if the wood and leaves might be his. The gardener closed with the offer on the spot. Then this apt pupil of Treasurer Little repaired to the children's playground and in a very little while had got them by bribes of molasses to collect every stick and leaf in the place into a heap at the entrance to the pleasaunce. Just then the king's potter was on the look out for fuel to fire bowls for the palace, and coming on this heap, took the lot off his hands. The sale of his wood brought in sixteen pennies to this pupil of Treasurer Little, as well as five bowls and other vessels. Having now twenty-four pennies in all, a plan occurred to him. He went to the vicinity of the city gate with a jar full of water and supplied 500 mowers with water to drink. Said they, 'You've done us a good turn, friend. What can we do for you?' 'Oh, I'll tell you when I want your aid,' said he; and as he went about, he struck up an intimacy with a land trader and a sea trader. Said the former to him, 'Tomorrow there will come to town a horse dealer with 500 horses to sell.' On hearing this piece of news, he said to the mowers, 'I want each of you today to give me a bundle of grass and not to sell your own grass till mine is sold.' 'Certainly,' said they, and delivered the 500 bundles of grass at his house. Unable to get grass for his horses elsewhere, the dealer purchased our friend's grass for a thousand pieces. Only a few days later his sea-trading friend brought him news of the arrival of a large ship in port; and another plan struck him. He hired for eight pence a well appointed carriage which plied for hire by the hour, and went in great style down to the port. Having bought the ship on credit and deposited his signet ring as security, he had a pavilion pitched hard by and said to his people as he took his seat inside, 'When merchants are being shewn in, let them be passed on by three successive ushers into my presence.' Hearing that a ship had arrived in port, about a hundred merchants came down to buy the cargo; only to he told that they could not have it as a great merchant had already made a payment on account. So away they all went to the young man; and the footmen duly announced them by three successive ushers, as had been arranged beforehand. Each man of the hundred severally gave him a thousand pieces to buy a share in the ship and then a further thousand each to buy him out altogether. So it was with 200,000 pieces that this pupil of Treasurer Little returned to Benares. Actuated by a desire to shew his gratitude, he went with one hundred thousand pieces to call on Treasurer Little. 'How did you come by all this wealth?' asked the Treasurer. 'In four short months, simply by following your advice,' replied the young man; and he told him the whole story, starting with the dead mouse. Thought Lord High Treasurer Little, on hearing all this, 'I must see that a young fellow of these parts does not fall into anybody else's hands.' So he married him to his own grownup daughter and settled all the family estates on the young man. And at the Treasurer's death, he became Treasurer in that city. And the Bodhisatta passed away to fare according to his deserts. descriptive title, 'The Dead Mouse.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1655,The Sexton's Nose,Italy,In this version a chain tale of type 2032 is appended to the type 1655 tale about profitable exchanges. Link to additional chain tales of type 2032. Treating a dog bite by applying to it the hair of the dog that inflicted the wound is a widespread folk cure.,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 79, pp. 250-52.","A sexton, one day in sweeping the church, found a piece of money (it was a fifth of a cent) and deliberated with himself as to what he would buy with it. If he bought nuts or almonds, he was afraid of the mice; so at last he bought some roasted peas, and ate all but the last pea. This he took to a bakery nearby, and asked the mistress to keep it for him. She told him to leave it on a bench, and she would take care of it. When she went to get it, she found that the cock had eaten it. The next day the sexton came for the roast pea, and when he heard what had become of it, he said they must either return the roast pea or give him the cock. This they did, and the sexton, not having anyplace to keep it, took it to a miller's wife, who promised to keep it for him. Now she had a pig, which managed to kill the cock. The next day the sexton came for the cock, and on finding it dead, demanded the pig, and the woman had to give it to him. The pig he left with a friend of his, a pastry cook, whose daughter was to be married the next day. The woman was mean and sly, and killed the pig for her daughter's wedding, meaning to tell the sexton that the pig had run away. The sexton, however, when he heard it, made a great fuss, and declared that she must give him back his pig or her daughter. At last she had to give him her daughter, whom he put in a bag and carried away. He took the bag to a woman who kept a shop, and asked her to keep for him this bag, which he said contained bran. The woman by chance kept chickens, and she thought she would take some of the sexton's bran and feed them. When she opened the bag she found the young girl, who told her how she came there. The woman took her out of the sack, and put in her stead a dog. The next day the sexton came for his bag, and putting it on his shoulder, started for the seashore, intending to throw the young girl in the sea. When he reached the shore, he opened the bag, and the furious dog flew out and bit his nose. The sexton was in great agony, and cried out, while the blood ran down his face in torrents, 'Dog, dog, give me a hair to put in my nose, and heal the bite.' The dog answered, 'Do you want a hair? Give me some bread.' The sexton ran to a bakery, and said to the baker, 'Baker, give me some bread to give the dog. The dog will give a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and cure the bite.' The baker said, 'Do you want bread? Give me some wood.' The sexton ran to the woodman. 'Woodman, give me wood to give the baker. The baker will give me bread. The bread I will give to the dog. The dog will give me a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and heal the bite.' The woodman said, 'Do you want wood? Give me a mattock.' The sexton ran to a smith. 'Smith, give me a mattock to give the woodman. The woodman will give me wood. I will carry the wood to the baker. The baker will give me bread. I will give the bread to the dog. The dog will give me a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and heal the bite.' The smith said, 'Do you want a mattock? Give me some coals.' The sexton ran to the collier. 'Collier, give me some coals to give the smith. The smith will give me a mattock. The mattock I will give the woodman. The woodman will give me some wood. The wood I will give the baker. The baker will give me bread. The bread I will give the dog. The dog will give me a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and heal the bite.' 'Do you want coals? Give me a cart.' The sexton ran to the wagon maker. 'Wagon maker, give me a cart to give the collier. The collier will give me some coals. The coals I will carry to the smith. The smith will give me a mattock. The mattock I will give the woodman. The woodman will give me some wood. The wood I will give the baker. The baker will give me bread. The bread I will give to the dog. The dog will give me a hair. The hair I will put in my nose, and heal the bite.' The wagon maker, seeing the sexton's great lamentation, is moved to compassion, and gives him the cart. The sexton, well pleased, takes the cart and goes away to the collier. The collier gives him the coals. The coals he takes to the smith. The smith gives him the mattock. The mattock he takes to the woodman. The woodman gives him wood. The wood he carries to the baker. The baker gives him bread. The bread he carries to the dog. The dog gives him a hair. The hair he puts in his nose, and heals the bite.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1655,The Story of Hlakanyana,Kaffir (South Africa),"This epsisode is but one of numerous exploits recounted in 'The Story of Hlakanyana,' in Theal's collection (pp. 84-110). The name Hlakanyana means 'the little deceiver.'","George McCall Theal, Kaffir Folk-Lore: A Selection from the Traditional Tales Current among the People Living on the Eastern Border of the Cape Colony (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein and Company, n.d. [preface dated January 1882]), pp. 95-98.","Hlakanyana met a boy tending some goats. The boy had a digging-stick with him. Hlakanyana proposed that they should pursue after birds, and the boy agreed. They pursued birds the whole day. In the evening, when the sun set, Hlakanyana said, 'It is time now to roast our birds.' The place was on the bank of a river. Hlakanyana said, 'We must go under the water and see who will come out last.' They went under the water, and Hlakanyana came out last. The cunning fellow said, 'Let us try again.' They boy agreed to that. They went under the water. Hlakanyana came out quickly and ate all the birds. He left the heads only. Then he went under the water again. The boy came out while he was still under the water. When Hlakanyana came out he said, 'Let us go now and eat our birds.' They found all the birds eaten. Hlakanyana said, 'You have eaten them, because you came out of the water first, and you have left me the heads only.' The boy denied having done so, but Hlakanyana said, 'You must pay for my birds with that digging-stick.' The boy gave the digging-stick, and Hlakanyana went on his way. He saw some people making pots of clay. He said to them, 'Why do you not ask me to lend you this digging-stick, instead of digging with your hands?' They said, 'Lend it to us.' Hlakanyana lent them the digging-stick. Just the first time they stuck it in the clay it broke. He said, 'You have broken my digging-stick, the digging-stick that I received from my companion, my companion who ate my birds and left me with the heads.' They gave him a pot. Hlakanyana carried the pot till he came to some boys who were herding goats. He said to them, 'You foolish boys, you only suck the goats. You don't milk them in any vessel. Why don't you ask me to lend you this pot?' The boys said, 'Lend it to us.' Hlakanyana lent them the pot. While the boys were milking, the pot broke. Hlakanyana said, 'You have broken my pot, the pot that I received from the people who make pots, the people who broke my digging-stick, the digging-stick that I received from my companion, my companion who ate my birds and left me with the heads.' The boys gave him a goat. Hlakanyana came to the keepers of calves said, 'Allow us to suck this goat.' Hlakanyana gave the goat into their hands. While they were sucking, the goat died. Hlakanyana said, 'You have killed my goat, the goat that I received from the boys that were tending goats, the boys that broke my pot, the pot that I received from the people who make pots, the people who broke my digging-stick, the digging-stick that I received from my companion, my companion who ate my birds and left me with the heads.' They gave him a calf. Hlakanyana came to the keepers of cows. He said to them, 'You only suck the cows without letting the calf suck first. Why don't you ask me to lend you this calf, what the cows may be induced to give their milk freely?' They said, 'Lend us the calf.' Hlakanyana permitted them to take the calf. While the calf was in their hands it died. Hlakanyana said, 'You have killed my calf, the calf that I received from the keepers of calves, the keepers of calves that killed my goat, the goat that I received from the boys that were tending goats, the boys that broke my pot, the pot that I received from the people who make pots, the people who broke my digging-stick, the digging-stick that I received from my companion, my companion who ate my birds and left me with the heads.' They gave him a cow. Hlakanyana continued on his journey. of Hlakanyana,' in Theal's collection (pp. 84-110).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1655,With One Centavo Juan Marries a Princess,Philippines,"Fansler's source: 'Narrated by Gregorio Frondoso, a Bicol, who heard the story from another Bicol student. The latter said that the story was traditional among the Bicols, and that he had heard it from his grandfather.'","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, PA: American Folk-lore Society, 1921), no. 32, pp. 262-65.","In ancient times, in the age of foolishness and nonsense, there lived a poor gambler. He was all alone in the world: he had no parents, relatives, wife, or children. What little money he had he spent on cards or cock-fighting. Every time he played, he lost. So he would often pass whole days without eating. He would then go around the town begging like a tramp. At last he determined to leave the village to find his fortune. One day, without a single cent in his pockets, he set out on his journey. As he was lazily wandering along the road, he found a centavo, and picked it up. When he came to the next village, he bought with his coin a small native cake. He ate only a part of the cake; the rest he wrapped in a piece of paper and put in his pocket. Then he took a walk around the village; but, soon becoming tired, he sat down by a little shop to rest. While resting, he fell asleep. As he was lying on the bench asleep, a chicken came along, and, seeing the cake projecting from his pocket, the chicken pecked at it and ate it up. Tickled by the bird's beak, the tramp woke up and immediately seized the poor creature. The owner claimed the chicken; but Juan would not give it up, on the ground that it had eaten his cake. Indeed, he argued so well, that he was allowed to walk away, taking the chicken with him. Scarcely had he gone a mile when he came to another village. There he took a rest in a barber-shop. He fell asleep again, and soon a dog came in and began to devour his chicken. Awakened by the poor bird's squawking, Juan jumped up and caught the dog still munching its prey. In spite of the barber's protest and his refusal to give up his dog, Juan seized it and carried it away with him. He proceeded on his journey until he came to another village. As he was passing by a small house, he felt thirsty: so he decided to go in and ask for a drink. He tied his dog to the gate and went in. When he came out again, he found his dog lying dead, the iron gate on top of him. Evidently, in its struggles to get loose, the animal had pulled the gate over. Without a word Juan pulled off one of the iron bars from the gate and took it away with him. When the owner shouted after him, Juan said, 'The bar belongs to me, for your gate killed my dog.' When Juan came to a wide river, he sat down on the bank to rest. While he was sitting there, he began to play with his iron bar, tossing it up into the air, and catching it as it fell. Once he missed, and the bar fell into the river and was lost. 'Now, river,' said Juan, 'since you have taken my iron bar, you belong to me. You will have to pay for it.' So he sat there all day, watching for people to come along and bathe. It happened by chance that not long after, the princess came to take her bath. When she came out of the water, Juan approached her, and said, 'Princess, don't you know that this river is mine? And, since you have touched the water, I have the right to claim you.' 'How does it happen that you own this river?' said the astonished princess. 'Well, princess, it would tire you out to hear the story of how I acquired this river; but I insist that you are mine.' Juan persisted so strongly, that at last the princess said that she was willing to leave the matter to her father's decision. On hearing Juan's story, and after having asked him question after question, the king was greatly impressed with his wonderful reasoning and wit; and, as he was unable to offer any refutation for Juan's argument, he willingly married his daughter to Juan.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,Jesus and the Three Blocks of Gold,Arabic,Lebbe does not provide a source for this account.,"Muhammad Casim Siddi Lebbe, An Account of the Virgin Mary and Jesus As Given by Arabic Writers,' The Orientalist: A Monthly Journal of Oriental Literature, Arts and Sciences, Folklore, etc., etc., etc., vol 1, part 2 (February 1884), p. 47.","Jesus, it is said, was once going on a journey, and as he was proceeding a Jew came up to him and went with him. . . . They came to a lonely place, where Jesus made three heaps of earth, and by his word turned them into three blocks of massive gold. . . . The Jew then endeavored to take away the blocks of gold, but found them too heavy to be moved. When he was thus wasting his strength in trying to move them, Jesus returned to the spot, and said to the Jew, 'Have nothing to do with these heaps of gold. They will cause the death of three men. Leave them and follow me.' The man obeyed, and leaving the gold where it lay, went away with Jesus. Three travelers then happened to pass that way, and were delighted to find the gold. They agreed that each should take one. Finding it, however, a matter of impossibility to remove them, they resolved that one of them should go to the city for carts and food for them to eat, whilst the other two should watch the treasure. So one of the travelers set out for the city, leaving the other two to guard the gold. During his absence the thoughts of the two travelers were engrossed in projecting some means whereby they could become the sole sharers of the gold to the exclusion of the one who had gone to the city. They finally came to the diabolical resolution to kill their companion on his return. The same murderous design had entered the mind of the latter in reference to his two companions. He bought food and mixed poison with it; and then returned to the spot to offer it to them. No sooner had he arrived there, than without a word of warning his companions fell upon him, and belabored him to death. They then began to eat the food which was in its turn to destroy them; and so as they were partaking of this poisoned repast, they fell down, and expired in the struggles of death. A little while after, Jesus and the Jew were returning from their journey along that road, and seeing the three men lying dead amidst the gold, Jesus exclaimed, 'This will be the end of the covetous, who love gold.' He then raised the three men to life, and elicited from them a confession of their guilt. They repented of their sin, and thence forward became disciples of Jesus. Nothing, however, could make the Jew overcome his avarice. He persisted in his desire to be come the possessor of the gold; but, whilst he was struggling to carry away the blocks, the earth opened and swallowed him up and the gold with him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,Story of the Three Men and Our Lord Jesus,1001 Nights,NA,"Tales from the Arabic of the Breslau and Calcutta (1814-18) Editions of the Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night Not Occurring in the Other Printed Texts of the Work, translated by John Payne, vol. 1 (London: Printed for Subscribers Only, 1901), pp. 282-83.","Three men once went out in quest of riches and came upon a block of gold, weighing a hundred pounds. When they saw it, they took it up on their shoulders and fared on with it, till they drew near a certain city, when one of them said, 'Let us sit in the mosque, whilst one of us goes and buys us what we may eat.' So they sat down in the mosque and one of them arose and entered the city. When he came therein, his soul prompted him to play his fellows false and get the gold for himself alone. So he bought food and poisoned it; but, when he returned to his comrades, they fell upon him and slew him, so they might enjoy the gold without him. Then they ate of the [poisoned] food and died, and the gold abode cast down over against them. Presently, Jesus, son of Mary (on whom be peace!), passed by and seeing this, besought God the Most High for tidings of their case; so He told him what had betided them, whereat great was his wonderment and he related to his disciples what he had seen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,The Hermit and the Three Ruffians,Italy,"Clouston's source: Libro di Novelle, et di bel Parlar Gentile (Florence, 1572), no. 62. Clouston does not give this story a title.","William Alexander Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions: Their Migrations and transformations, vol. 2 (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1887), pp. 383-85.","A hermit, walking one day in a desert place, found a very large cave, which was much hidden from view, and retiring thither for sleep (for he was very weary), saw, as soon as he entered the cave, something shining in a certain place very brightly; for much gold was there. And no sooner had he perceived it than he incontinently departed and began to run through the desert as fast as he could go. Thus running, the hermit met with three great ruffians, who haunted that wild place (foresta), to rob whoever passed thereby. Nor were they ever aware this gold was there. Now seeing, as they lay hid, this man flee without a soul behind to chase him, they were somewhat afraid, but yet stopped him, to know what he was fleeing for, because at this they marveled much. And he replied and said, 'My brothers, I am fleeing from Death, who comes after me in chase.' They, seeing neither man nor beast that chased him, said, 'Show us what is chasing thee, and lead us unto where it is.' Then said the hermit to them, 'Come with me and I will show it to you'; beseeching them all the time not to go to it, for he himself was fleeing for that reason. And they, desiring to find it, to see what manner of thing it was, demanded of him nothing else. The hermit seeing that he could do no more, and fearing them, led them to the cave, whence he had departed, and said to them, 'Here is Death, which was chasing me'; and showed them the gold that was there; and they began to mightily congratulate themselves, and to have great fun together. Then they dismissed that good man, and he went away about his own affairs; and they began to say one to the other, how simple a person that was. These three ruffians remained all three together, to guard this wealth, and began to consider what they must do. Replied one and said, 'Meseems that God has given us this so high fortune, that we should not depart from here until we carry away all this property.' And another said, 'Let us not do so. Let one of us take somewhat thereof and go to the city and sell it, and buy bread and wine, and whatsoever we need; and in that let him do his best, so that we be furnished.' To this they all agree. The devil, who is crafty and bad enough to contrive to do whatever evil he can, put in this one's heart to go to the city for supplies. 'When I am in the city,' said he to himself, 'I will eat and drink what I want, and then provide me with certain things whereof I have need at the present time; and then I will poison what I bring to my comrades, so that when the pair of them are dead I shall then be lord of all this property; and, as it seems to me, it is so much that I shall be the richest man of all this country for possessions.' And as it came into his thought, so he did. He took for himself as much victual as he needed, and then poisoned the rest, and so he brought it to those his companions. But while he went to the city, as we have said, if he thought and contrived ill, to slay his companions, that every thing should remain for him, they, on their part, thought no better of him than he of them, and said one to the other, 'As soon as this our comrade shall return with the bread and the wine and the other things we need, we will kill him, and then eat as much as we desire, and then all this great wealth shall be between us two. And the less in number we are the more shall each of us have.' Now came he who had gone to the city to buy the things they needed. The moment his companions saw he had returned, they were upon him with lances and knives and killed him. When they had made a dead man of him, they ate of what he had brought; and so soon as they were satisfied both fell dead. And so died all three; for the one slew the other, as ye have heard, and had not the wealth. And thus may the Lord God requite traitors; for they went seeking death, and in this manner they found it, and in a way which they deserved. And the sage wisely fled it, and the gold abode free as at first.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,The Merchant and the Two Sharpers,1001 Nights,NA,"The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, translated from the Arabic by Captain Sir R. F. Burton, vol. 2 (London: H. S. Nichols, 1897), pp. 379-80.","There was once in a city called Sendeh a very wealthy merchant, who made ready merchandise and set out with it for such a city, thinking to sell it there. There followed him two sharpers, who had made up into bales what goods they could get and giving out to him that they also were merchants, companied with him by the way. At the first halting-place, they agreed to play him false and take his goods; but, at the same time, each purposed inwardly foul play to the other, saying in himself, 'If I can cheat my comrade, it will be well for me and I shall have all to myself.' So each took food and putting therein poison, brought it to his fellow; and they both ate of the poisoned mess and died. Now they had been sitting talking with the merchant; so when they left him and were long absent from him, he sought for them and found them both dead; whereby he knew that they were sharpers, who had plotted to play him foul, but their treachery had recoiled upon themselves; so the merchant was preserved and took what they had.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,The Pardoner's Tale,Geoffrey Chaucer,Link to a Middle English text of The Pardoneres Tale. Chaucer was born about the year 1340 and died in 1400. He began writing The Canterbury Tales in about 1386. The great work remained unfinished.,"Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, 'The Pardoner's Tale.' Retold and shortened.","In Flanders there was a group of young folks who lived for gaming, eating, drinking, and merrymaking. They made these follies and excesses even worse with their wanton and blasphemous curses and oaths. As my story begins, three of these riotous fellows were drinking in a tavern when from the street they heard the sound of a bell accompanying a coffin to its grave. 'Go and ask whose corpse is passing by,' said one of them to a servant boy. 'I already know who it is,' replied the boy. 'He was an old friend of yours. Last night he was suddenly slain while seated dead drunk on his bench. The silent thief who struck him down is the one named Death, the same Death who has taken so many people in our country of late. Be on guard yourselves lest this adversary take you as well!' 'The boy is right,' added the tavern keeper. 'In a village only a mile from here Death has taken man, woman, child, and servant. He must be nearby. Take care, or he will do you harm!' 'Would meeting him be such a peril?' interjected one of the drinkers, then swore an oath on God's sacred bones that he would seek him out. 'Listen, friends,' he added, 'We three have always been as one. Let each of us now hold up his hand and swear an oath of brotherhood. Together we will slay this traitor Death!' And thus with a blasphemous curse, they swore to live and die for each other and together to seek out and challenge Death before the next nightfall. In a drunken rage they set forth toward the village of which the tavern keeper had spoken, swearing grisly oaths as they went. They had not gone a half mile before they met a poor old man. He greeted them humbly, 'God be with you, my lords.' The proudest of these unruly men replied, 'Hey, old man, why are you still hanging onto life at your great age?' The old man looked him in the face and said, 'Because wherever I have wandered, no one will exchange his youth for my age. Thus I must keep my age for as long as it is God's will. Alas, not even Death wants my life.' At the sound of Death's name, one of the gamblers interrupted. 'You mention that traitor Death, the one who is killing all our friends. Are you his spy? Are you one of his servants, sent to slay us young folks? Tell us where he is, or pay the price!' 'Well, sirs,' he said, 'If what you want is to find Death, just turn up this crooked path. I left him sitting under a tree in a grove. He'll still be there. You'll find him.' The three unruly men ran until they came to the tree, and there they found a pile of golden florins, well nigh onto eight bushels of them, they thought. The sight of all the bright and beautiful florins quickly caused them to abandon their search for Death, and their thoughts turned to how they might best protect their newly found treasure. The worst of them spoke the first word, 'Brothers,' he said, 'Fortune has given us this great treasure, but if we carry it home by light of day, people will call us thieves, and our own treasure will send us to the gallows. We must take it home by night, and then with utmost prudence and caution. Let us draw lots to see which one of us should run to town and secretly bring back bread and wine. The other two will stay here and guard the treasure. Then in the night we will carry the treasure to wherever we think is best.' The lot fell to the youngest, and he immediately departed for the town. He had no sooner left when the one said to the other, 'You are my sworn brother, and I will tell you what will profit you the most. You know our friend has gone. There is gold here aplenty, but our shares will be much greater if we divide it by two than if we divide it by three. 'That's true, said the other, 'but what can we do?' The first one answered, 'The two of us are stronger than the one of him. You engage him in a playful wrestling game, and I will run my dagger through his back. Then you do the same thing with your dagger, and all this gold will be for you and me alone.' Now the youngest, while walking toward the town, thought over and over again about the bright new florins. 'If only I could have this treasure to myself,' he said, 'then I would be the happiest man alive!' The Fiend, our Adversary, put into his heart the thought that he might buy poison and thus kill his two friends. And so, arriving in the town, he sought out an apothecary whom he asked for a poison to kill rats and also a polecat that was in his yard. The apothecary answered, 'Here is a mixture that will kill any creature, even if it were to eat an amount no larger than a kernel of grain.' Carrying this poison in a box, he ran to the next street where he borrowed three bottles. He poured poison into two of them, keeping the third one clean for his own drink. Then he filled all three bottles with wine and returned to his friends. But why make a sermon of it? They killed him, just as they had planned, and when the deed was done, one of them said, 'Now let us sit and drink and make merry. Afterward we will bury his body.' And while still talking, he drank from the poisoned bottle, and his friend drank as well, and thus the two of them died. Tale.' Retold and shortened. writing The Canterbury Tales in about 1386. The great work remained unfinished.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,The Punishment of Avarice,Tibet,This tale combines type 763 (treasure finders murder one another) with type 180 (the rebounding bow).,"Tibetan Tales Derived from Indian Sources, translated from the Tibetan of the Kah-gyur [also spelled Kanjur] by F. Anton von Schiefner and from the German into English by W. R. S. Ralston (London: Trübner and Company, 1882), no. 19, pp. 286-87.","In long past times a hunter wounded an elephant with a poisoned arrow. Perceiving that he had hit it, he followed after the arrow and killed the elephant. Five hundred robbers who had plundered a hill-town were led by an evil star to that spot, where they perceived the elephant. As it was just then a time of hunger with them, they said, 'Now that we have found this meat, let two hundred and fifty of us cut the flesh off the elephant and roast it, while two hundred and fifty go to fetch water.' Then those among them who had cut the flesh off the elephant and cooked it, said among themselves, 'Honored sirs, now that we have accomplished such a task and collected so much stolen property, wherefore should we give away part of it to the others?' Let us eat as much of the meat as we please, and then poison the rest. The others will eat the poisoned meat and die, and then the stolen goods will be ours.' So after they had eaten their fill of the meat, they poisoned what remained over. Those who had gone to fetch water, likewise, when they had drunk as much water as they wanted, poisoned what was left. So when they came back, and those who had eaten the flesh drank the water, and those who had drunk the water ate the flesh, they all of them died. Now there came to that spot a jackal, fettered by the ties of time, and it saw all those dead bodies. With a joy that sprang from greediness it thought, 'As an extremely large amount of booty as accrued to me, I will take each part of it in its turn.' So it seized the bow with its jaws, and began to gnaw at the knots of the bowstring. The string snapped, and the end of the bow struck the jackal in the roof of the mouth so hard, that it died. The jackal uttered this proverb: 'It is good to accumulate, but not to accumulate immoderately. See how the jackal, infatuated by greed after the accumulated, was killed by the bow.' type 180 (the rebounding bow).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,The Reward of Covetousness,India,Knowles's source: 'A tale that I heard the other day from a Pandit youth in Srinagar City [Kashmir].,"J. Hinton Knowles, 'The Reward of Covetousness,' The Orientalist: A Monthly Journal of Oriental Literature, Arts and Sciences, Folklore, etc., vol. 1, part 11 (November 1884), pp. 260-61.","Four men determined to leave Kashmir for another country, where they might be able to obtain greater wealth than it seemed possible for them to amass in 'the Happy Valley.' On a certain day they started all together, taking with them four thousand rupees, wherewith to trade. Each of the little company had an equal share in this sum of money, and they set forth with light hearts, full of hope that they would prosper and become exceeding rich. On the way it came to pass that the great deity, according to his mighty power and wisdom, caused a full-grown golden tree to spring up suddenly, and to bring forth before their very eyes rich clusters of gold. Seeing this magnificent and valuable tree the four travelers became as men in a trance. They did not believe their own eyes. At length, however, seeing that it was so, and that there was no doubt about it, they changed their minds about traveling into a foreign country, and resolved to return back to their homes as soon as possible, taking with them the tree of gold. They reminded one another of their own Kashmiri proverb: If God intends to give, he will give at the door; but if he will not give, then what is the good of going a thousand kos (in search of money)? 'We cannot contest the will of God,' they said. 'Therefore, since we have happed upon this golden tree, let us appropriate it and be glad forever.' This was all very easy to decide, but how were they to arrange it? The tree was high and large and heavy. It must first be felled and cut up into bundles which they could carry. But how were they to perform all these without implements? Accordingly it was determined that two of the party should go to the nearest village and procure axes and saws and ropes, etc., while the other two remained behind to guard the treasure. Presently the two men appointed to go left for the tools. The remaining two meanwhile took counsel together as to how they could kill their partners. 'We will mix poison with their food,' said one, 'and then when they are disposed of we shall each have a double share of the gold.' And they did so. Now it happened that the other two who were walking to the village for the tools and other neccessaries had also covenanted together by the way to slay the two partners who were left behind. 'We will slay them with one stroke of the axe,' said one, 'and then we shall obtain twice the quantity of treasure.' In the course of a few hours they returned from the village with saws and axes, and at once, on arrival at the tree slew both of their partners. Each slew one with one stroke of his axe. They then commenced hewing down the tree; and this done, they soon cut up the branches; and then, thoroughly wearied with their great exertions, they sat down to rest and eat. Alas! They ate of the poisoned bread. In a little while a most overpowering sleep came upon both of them, a sleep from which they never awoke. A short time afterwards some other travelers passing by that way found the four corpses lying stretched out cold and stinking beneath the golden tree.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,The Three Crosses,Germany,NA,"Otto von Pestel, 'Die drei Kreuze,' Mittheilungen des Historischen Vereins zu Osnabrück, vol. 3 (1853), pp. 222-23.","Near a hill next to the military road in the so-called Kurrel, on a rise overgrown with trees where a side-road turns off toward Nemden, there are three stone crosses commemorating a bloody event. This place formerly belonged to the Holter borderland and was covered with woods for a great distance. At a later time the Kurrel took on a sinister reputation. Many years ago three Jews are said to have committed a robbery there. Afterward they began quarreling with one another over the loot. One of them left to bring back food and drink, and during his absence the other two plotted to murder him. This they did, but when they partook of the food that he had brought back, they died of poisoning, for their murdered comrade had had the same plan.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
763,Vedabbha-Jataka: Misguided Effort,The Jataka,NA,"The Jataka; or, Stories of the Buddha's Former Births, edited by E. B. Cowell; translated by Robert Chalmers, vol. 1 (Cambridge: University Press, 1895), no. 48, pp. 121-24.","This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about a self-willed Brother. Said the Master to that Brother, 'This is not the first time, Brother, that you have been self-willed; you were of just the same disposition in bygone times also; and therefore it was that, as you would not follow the advice of the wise and good, you came to be cut in two by a sharp sword and were flung on the highway; and you were the sole cause why a thousand men met their end.' And so saying, he told this story of the past. Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there was a brahmin in a village who knew the charm called Vedabbha. Now this charm, so they say, was precious beyond all price. For, if at a certain conjunction of the planets the charm was repeated and the gaze bent upwards to the skies, straightway from the heavens there rained the Seven Things of Price: gold, silver, pearl, coral, catseye, ruby, and diamond. In those days the Bodhisatta was a pupil of this brahmin; and one day his master left the village on some business or other, and came with the Bodhisatta to the country of Ceti. In a forest by the way dwelt five hundred robbers -- known as 'the Despatchers' -- who made the way impassable. And these caught the Bodhisatta and the Vedabbha-brahmin. (Why, you ask, were they called the Despatchers? -- Well, the story goes that of every two prisoners they made they used to despatch one to fetch the ransom; and that's why they were called the Despatchers. If they captured a father and a son, they told the father to go for the ransom to free his son; if they caught a mother and her daughter, they sent the mother for the money; if they caught two brothers, they let the elder go; and so too, if they caught a teacher and his pupil, it was the pupil they set free. In this case, therefore, they kept the Vedabbha-brahmin, and sent the Bodhisatta for the ransom.) And the Bodhisatta said with a bow to his master, 'In a day or two I shall surely come back; have no fear; only fail not to do as I shall say. Today will come to pass the conjunction of the planets which brings about the rain of the Things of Price. Take heed lest, yielding to this mishap, you repeat the charm and call down the precious shower. For, if you do, calamity will certainly befall both you and this band of robbers.' With this warning to his master, the Bodhisatta went his way in quest of the ransom. At sunset the robbers bound the brahmin and laid him by the heels. Just at this moment the full moon rose over the eastern horizon, and the brahmin, studying the heavens, knew that the great conjunction was taking place. 'Why,' thought he, 'should I suffer this misery? By repeating the charm I will call down the precious rain, pay the robbers the ransom, and go free.' So he called out to the robbers, 'Friends, why do you take me a prisoner?' 'To get a ransom, reverend sir,' said they. 'Well, if that is all you want,' said the brahmin, 'make haste and untie me; have my head bathed, and new clothes put on me; and let me be perfumed and decked with flowers. Then leave me to myself.' The robbers did as he bade them. And the brahmin, marking the conjunction of the planets, repeated his charm with eyes uplifted to the heavens. Forthwith the Things of Price poured down from the skies! The robbers picked them all up, wrapping their booty into bundles with their cloaks. Then with their brethren they marched away; and the brahmin followed in the rear. But, as luck would have it, the party was captured by a second band of five hundred robbers! 'Why do you seize us?' said the first to the second band. 'For booty,' was the answer. 'If booty is what you want, seize on that brahmin, who by simply gazing up at the skies brought down riches as rain. It was he who gave us all that we have got.' So the second band of robbers let the first band go, aud seized on the brahmin, crying, 'Give us riches too!' 'It would give me great pleasure,' said the brahmin; 'but it will be a year before the requisite conjunction of the planets takes place again. If you will only be so good as to wait till then, I will invoke the precious shower for you.' 'Rascally brahmin!' cried the angry robbers, 'you made the other band rich off-hand, but want us to wait a whole year!' And they cut him in two with a sharp sword, and flung his body in the middle of the road. Then hurrying after the first band of robbers, they killed every man of them too in hand-to-hand fight, and seized the booty. Next, they divided into two companies and fought among themselves, company against company, till two hundred and fifty men were slain. And so they went on killing one another, till only two were left alive. Thus did those thousand men come to destruction. Now, when the two survivors had managed to carry off the treasure they hid it in the jungle near a village; and one of them sat there, sword in hand, to guard it, whilst the other went into the village to get rice and have it cooked for supper. 'Covetousness is the root of ruin!' mused he that stopped by the treasure. 'When my mate comes back, he'll want half of this. Suppose I kill him the moment he gets back.' So he drew his sword and sat waiting for his comrade's return. Meanwhile, the other had equally reflected that the booty had to be halved, and thought to himself, 'Suppose I poison the rice, and give it him to eat and so kill him, and have the whole of the treasure to myself.' Accordingly, when the rice was boiled, he first ate his own share, and then put poison in the rest, which he carried back with him to the jungle. But scarce had he set it down, when the other robber cut him in two with his sword, and hid the body away in a secluded spot. Then he ate the poisoned rice, and died then and there. Thus, by reason of the treasure, not only the brahmin but all the robbers came to destruction. Howbeit, after a day or two the Bodhisatta came back with the ransom. Not finding his master where he had left him, but seeing treasure strewn all round about, his heart misgave him that, in spite of his advice, his master must have called down a shower of treasure from the skies, and that all must have perished in consequence; and he proceeded along the road. On his way he came to where his master's body lay cloven in twain upon the way. 'Alas!' he cried, 'he is dead through not heeding my warning.' Then with gathered sticks he made a pyre and burnt his master's body, making an offering of wild flowers. Further along the road, he came upon the five hundred 'Despatchers,' and further still upon the two hundred and fifty, and so on by degrees until at last he came to where lay only two corpses. Marking how of the thousand all but two had perished, and feeling sure that there must be two survivors, and that these could not refrain from strife, he pressed on to see where they had gone. So on he went till he found the path by which with the treasure they had turned into the jungle ; and there he found the heap of bundles of treasure, and one robber lying dead with his rice-bowl overturned at his side. Realising the whole story at a glance, the Bodhisatta set himself to search for the missing man, and at last found his body in the secret spot where it had been flung 'And thus,' mused the Bodhisatta, 'through not following my counsel my master in his self-will has been the means of destroying not himself only but a thousand others also. Truly, they that seek their own gain by mistaken and misguided means shall reap ruin, even as my master.' And he repeated this stanza: Misguided effort leads to loss, not gain; Thieves killed Vedabbha and themselves were slain. Thus spake the Bodhisatta, and he went on to say, 'And even as my master's misguided and misplaced effort in causing the rain of treasure to fall from heaven wrought both his own death and the destruction of others with him, even so shall every other man who by mistaken means seeks to compass his own advantage, utterly perish and involve others in his destruction.' With these words did the Bodhisatta make the forest ring; and in this stanza did he preach the Truth, whilst the Tree-fairies shouted applause. The treasure he contrived to carry off to his own home, where he lived out his term of life in the exercise of almsgiving and other good works. And when his life closed, he departed to the heaven he had won.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1741,Clever Gretel,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,NA,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Das kluge Grethel,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 7th ed., vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 77, pp. 395-97.","There was a cook whose name was Gretel. She wore shoes with red heels, and whenever she went out she would turn this way and that way, and was very cheerful, and thought, 'You are a beautiful girl!' Then after returning home, because she was so happy, she drank a swallow of wine, and the wine gave her an appetite, so she tasted the best of what she had cooked, until she was quite full, and then said, 'The cook has to know how the food tastes.' One day her master said to her, 'Gretel, this evening a guest is coming. Prepare two chickens for me, the best way that you can.' 'Yes indeed, my lord,' answered Gretel. She killed the chickens, scalded them, plucked them, stuck them on the spit, and then, as evening approached, put them over the fire to roast. The chickens began to brown, and were nearly done, but the guest had not yet arrived. Gretel called to her master, 'If the guest doesn't come, I'll have to take the chickens from the fire. And it will be a crying shame if they're not eaten soon, because they're at their juicy best right now.' The master answered, 'You're right. I'll run and fetch the guest myself.' As soon as the master had turned his back, Gretel set the spit and the chickens aside and thought, 'Standing here by the fire has made me sweaty and thirsty. Who knows when they will be back. I'll just run down into the cellar and take a swallow. So she ran down, lifted a jug to her lips, 'God bless you, Gretel!' and took a healthy drink. 'Wine belongs together,' she said to herself. It's not good to keep it apart.' Then she went back upstairs and placed the chickens over the fire again, basted them with butter, and cheerfully turned the spit. Because the roasting chicken smelled so good, she thought, 'It could be lacking something. I'd better taste it!' She tested them with her fingers, and said, 'My, these chickens are good! It's a sin and a shame that they won't be eaten at once!' She ran to the window, to see if her master and his guest were arriving, but she saw no one. Returning to the chickens, she said, 'That one wing is burning. I'd better just eat it.' So she cut it off and ate it, and it tasted so good, and when she had finished it, she thought, 'I'd better eat the other one too, or the master will see that something is missing.' When both wings had been eaten, she once again looked for her master, but could not see him. Then it occurred to her, 'who knows, perhaps they've gone somewhere else and aren't coming here at all.' Then she said, 'Well, Gretel, be of good cheer! The one has already been cut into. Have another drink and eat the rest of it. When it's gone, you can rest! Why should this gift of God go to waste?' So she ran to the cellar once again, downed a noble drink, and finished off the first chicken with pleasure. When it was gone, and still the master had not yet returned, she looked at the other chicken and said, 'Where the one is, the other should follow. The two belong together. What is right for the one, can't be wrong for the other. I believe that if I have another drink, it will do me no harm.' So she took another drink, and sent the second chicken running after the first one. Just as she was making the most of it, her master returned, calling out, 'Gretel, hurry up, the guest is right behind me.' 'Yes, master, I'm getting it ready,' answered Gretel. The master saw that the table was set, and he picked up the large knife that he wanted to carve the chickens with, and stood in the hallway sharpening it. The guest arrived and knocked politely on the door. Gretel ran to see who it was, and when she saw that it was the guest, she held a finger before her mouth, and said, 'Be quiet! Hurry and get away from here. If my master catches you, you'll be sorry. Yes, he invited you for an evening meal, but all he really wants is to cut off both of your ears. Listen, he's sharpening his knife for it right now.' The guest heard the whetting and ran down the steps as fast as he could. Then Gretel, who was not a bit lazy, ran to her master, crying, 'Just what kind of a guest did you invite?' 'What do you mean, Gretel?' 'Why,' she said, 'he took both of the chickens off the platter, just as I was about to carry them out, and then ran away with them.' 'Now that's a fine tune!' said the master, feeling sorry about the loss of the good chickens. 'At the least, he could have left one of them, so I would have something to eat.' He called out to him to stop, but the guest pretended not to hear. Therefore he ran after him, the knife still in his hand, shouting, 'Just one! Just one!' But the guest thought that he wanted him to give up just one of his ears, so he ran as though there were a fire burning beneath him, in order to get home with both ears. Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 7th ed., vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 77, pp. 395-97.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1741,The Good Husband and the Bad Wife,India,NA,"Georgiana Kingscote and Pandit Natesa Sástrî, Tales of the Sun; or, Folklore of Southern India (London: W. H. Allen, 1890), no. 11, pp. 131-34.","In a remote village there lived a Brahman whose good nature and charitable disposition were proverbial. Equally proverbial also were the ill nature and uncharitable disposition of the Brahmani, his wife. But as Paramêsvara (God) had joined them in matrimony, they had to live together as husband and wife, though their temperaments were so incompatible. Every day the Brahman had a taste of his wife's ill temper, and if any other Brahman was invited to dinner by him, his wife, somehow or other, would manage to drive him away. One fine summer morning a rather stupid Brahman friend of his came to visit our hero and was at once invited to dinner. He told his wife to have dinner ready earlier than usual, and went off to the river to bathe. His friend, not feeling very well that day, wanted a hot bath at the house, and so did not follow him to the river, but remained sitting in the outer verandah. If any other guest had come, the wife would have accused him of greediness to his face and sent him away, but this visitor seemed to be a special friend of her lord, so she did not like to say anything; but she devised a plan to make him go away of his own accord. She proceeded to smear the ground before her husband's friend with cow dung, and placed in the midst of it a long pestle, supporting one end of it against the wall. She next approached the pestle most solemnly and performed worship (pûjâ) to it. The guest did not in the least understand what she was doing, and respectfully asked her what it all meant. 'This is what is called pestle worship,' she replied. 'I do it as a daily duty, and this pestle is intended to break the head of some human being in honor of a goddess, whose feet are most devoutly worshipped by my husband. Every day as soon as he returns from his bath in the river, he takes this pestle, which I am ordered to keep ready for him before his return, and with it breaks the head of any human being whom he has managed to get hold of by inviting him to a meal. This is his tribute (dakshinâ) to the goddess; today you are the victim.' The guest was much alarmed. 'What! break the head of a guest! I at any rate shall not be deceived today,' thought he, and prepared to run away. The Brahman's wife appeared to sympathize with his sad plight, and said, 'Really, I do pity you. But there is one thing you can do now to save yourself. If you go out by the front door and walk down the street my husband may follow you, so you had better go out by the back door.' To this plan the guest most thankfully agreed, and hastily ran off by the back door. Almost immediately our hero returned from his bath, but before he could arrive his wife had cleaned up the place she had prepared for the pestle worship, and when the Brahman, not finding his friend in the house, inquired of her as to what had become of him, she said in seeming anger, 'The greedy brute! he wanted me to give him this pestle -- this very pestle which I brought forty years ago as a dowry from my mother's house, and when I refused he ran away by the back yard in haste.' But her kind-hearted lord observed that he would rather lose the pestle than his guest, even though it was a part of his wife's dowry, and more than forty years old. So he ran off with the pestle in his hand after his friend, crying out, 'Oh Brahman! Oh Brahman! Stop please, and take the pestle.' But the story told by the old woman now seemed all the more true to the guest when he saw her husband running after him, and so he said, 'You and your pestle may go where you please. Never more will you catch me in your house,' and ran away. Allen, 1890), no. 11, pp. 131-34.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1741,The Woman Who Humored Her Lover at Her Husband's Expense,1001 Nights,NA,"Richard F. Burton, The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night: Supplemental Nights, vol. 11 (London: H. S. Nichols and Company, 1894), pp. 397-400.","There was a man in Cairo, and he had a wife who never stopped boasting of her gentle blood, her obedience, her docility, and her fear of the Lord. Now she happened to have in the house a pair of fatted geese, and she also had a lover whom she kept in the background. One day the lover came to visit her and seeing beside her the plump birds, he felt his appetite sharpened by them, so he said to her, 'My dear, you must cook these two geese with the best of stuffing so that we may make merry over them, for my mind is set upon eating goose flesh.' She said, 'That is easily done, my darling. I will slaughter them and stuff them, and you can take them home with you and eat them, and my pimp of a husband shall neither taste of them nor even smell them.' 'How can you do that?' he asked. She answered, 'I will serve him a trick, and then give the geese to you, for no one is dearer to me than you are, and my pandering mate shall not get a single bite.' Upon this agreement the lover went away. When her husband returned that evening she said to him, 'How can you call yourself a man when you never invite anyone to your house? People surely will talk about you, saying that you are a miser and know nothing of generosity.' 'Woman,' he said, 'I can easily do this. Tomorrow morning I will buy meat and rice which you can cook for our dinner or supper, and I will invite one of my friends.' She said to him, 'No, instead of that buy a pound of mincemeat, then slaughter the two geese, and I will stuff them and fry them. Nothing is more savory than that to offer guests.' He said, 'I will do so for sure!' Early the next morning he slaughtered the geese, then went forth and bought a pound of meat, which he minced, plus rice and hot spices, and everything else that would be required. He carried these home to his wife, saying, 'Finish your cooking before midday when I will bring my guest,' and he went away. She cleaned out the geese, stuffed them with minced meat and a portion of rice and almonds and raisins, and fried them until they were well cooked; after which she sent for her lover. Upon his arrival they made merry together, then she gave him the geese, and he left her. At noon her husband came home accompanied by a friend. She admitted them, asking, 'Why have you brought only one man? Go back out and fetch two or three more.' 'Good,' he said, and went off to do as she had asked. Then the woman accosted the guest, crying out, 'Oh the pity of it! By Allah, you are lost, and what a shame that you have no children.' Now when the man heard these words he was struck with fear, and exclaimed, 'Woman, what are you saying?' She replied, 'In truth, my husband brought you here with the intention of gelding you to a castrato. I pity you, whether you live or die.' Hearing this, the guest rushed out the door, just as the husband was returning with two more friends. The wife met him at the entrance, and said to him, 'O man! Why did you bring home a fellow who is a thief and a ne'er-do-well?' 'How so?' he asked. She answered, 'The man stole the two geese and ran away.' Hearing this, the husband went out and caught sight of the guest running off. He shouted to him, 'Come back! Come back! At least give me one, and you can keep the other.' The man cried in reply, 'If you catch me you'll take both of them!' The housemaster meant the two geese, but the man who was running away thought only of himself, saying to himself, 'He means that he will take only one of my testes and leave me the other.' So the guest kept running, with the husband following after him. Unable to catch him, he returned to his guests, and served them a simple meal of bread and such. All the while the woman kept blaming him and nagging about the matter of the geese, which she said his friend had carried off, but which in truth she had given to her lover.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1641C,"Twigmuntus, Cowbelliantus, Perchnosius",Sweden,NA,NA,"Once upon a time there was a king who was so very learned that no parson in the whole world could surpass him. In fact, he was so learned that ordinary folks could hardly understand what he said, nor could he understand them either. But in order to have someone to talk with, he procured seven wise professors, who were not quite so learned as himself, but who were just able to interpret his learned sayings, so that people could apprehend them, and who could twist and turn about the talk of ordinary folk so that it became sufficiently learned and complicated for the king to understand it. The king had no son, but he had a daughter, and in order that she should be happily married, and the country governed according to the fundamental principles of his learning, he issued an edict that he who was so learned as to put the king and his professors to silence should have his daughter and half the kingdom there and then. But anyone who attempted the task and did not succeed, should lose his head for having dared to exchange words with the king. That was no joke. But the princess was so fair and beautiful that it was no joke to gaze at her either. And the king did not keep her caged up, for anyone who wished could see her. There came princes and counts and barons and parsons and doctors, and learned persons from all quarters of the world. And no sooner did they see the princess than they one and all wanted to try their luck. But, however learned they were, their learning never proved sufficient, and every one of them lost his head. Over in a corner of the kingdom there lived a farmer, who had a son. This lad was not stupid. He was quick of apprehension and sharp-witted, and he was not afraid of anything. When the king's edict came to this out-of-the-way place, and the parson had read it from the pulpit, the lad wanted to try his luck. 'He who nothing risks, nothing wins,' thought the lad. And so he went to the parson and told him that if he would give him lessons in the evenings, he would work for the parson in the daytime, but he wanted to become so learned that he could try a bout with the king and his professors. 'Whoever means to compete with them must be able to do something more than munch bread,' said the parson. 'That may be,' said the lad, 'but I'll try my luck.' The parson thought, of course, that he was mad, but when he could get such a clever hand to work for him only for his keep, he thought he could not very well say no. And so the lad got what he wanted. He worked for the parson in the daytime, and the parson read with him in the evening. And in this way they went on for some time, but at last the lad grew tired of his book. 'I am not going to sit here and read and grind away, and lose what few wits I have,' he said. 'And it won't be of much help either, for if you are lucky things will come right of themselves, and if you are not lucky you'll never make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.' And with this he pitched the books on the shelf and went his way. All at once he came to a large forest, where the trees and bushes were so thick that it was with difficulty he could get along. While he was thus pushing his way through, he began wondering what he should say when he came to the king's palace, and how best he could make use of the learning he had picked up from the parson. All of a sudden the twig of a tree struck him across his mouth, so that his teeth rattled. 'That is Twigmuntus,' he said. A little while after he came to a meadow, where a cow was standing, bellowing so furiously that it almost deafened him. 'That is Cowbelliantus,' he said. He then came to a river, but as there was neither bridge nor planks across it, he had to put his clothes on his head and swim across. While he was swimming a perch came and bit him on the nose. 'That is Perchnosius,' he said. At last he came to the king's palace, where things did not look at all pleasant, for there were men's heads stuck on long stakes round about, and they grinned so horribly that they were enough to frighten anyone out of his wits. But the lad was not easily frightened. 'God's peace!' he said, and raised his cap. 'There you stick and grin at me. but who knows if I may not be keeping you company before the day is over, and be grinning with you at others? But if I happen to be alive, you shall not stick there any longer gaping at people,' he said. So he went up to the palace and knocked at the gate. The guard came out and asked what he wanted. 'I have come to try my luck with the princess,' said the lad. 'You?' said the guard. 'Well, you're a likely one, you are! Have you lost your senses? There have been princes and counts and barons and parsons and doctors and learned persons here, and all of them have had to pay with their heads for that pleasure; and yet you think you'll succeed!' he said. 'I should say it is no concern of yours,' said the lad. 'Just open the gate, and you'll see one who's not afraid of anything.' But the guard would not let him in. 'Do as I tell you,' said the lad, 'or there'll be a fine to-do!' But the guard would not. The lad then seized him by the collar and flung him against the wall, so that it creaked. And then he walked straight in to the king, who sat in his parlor with all his seven professors about him. Their faces were long and thin, and they looked like puny sickly persons about to die. They were sitting with their heads on one side meditating and staring at the floor. Then one of them, who looked up, asked the lad in ordinary language, 'Who are you?' 'A suitor,' said the lad. 'Do you want to try for the princess's hand?' 'Well, that's about it!' said the lad. 'Have you lost your wits? There have been princes and counts and barons and parsons and doctors and learned persons here, and all of them have gone headless away. So you had better turn about and get away while your head is on your shoulders,' he said. 'Don't trouble yourself on that account, but rather think of the head on your own shoulders,' said the lad. 'You look after yours, and I'll take care of mine! So just begin, and let me hear how much wit you have got, for I don't think you look so very clever,' he said. The first professor then began a long harangue of gibberish. And when he had finished the second went on. And then the third. And in this way they continued till at length it was the turn of the seventh. The lad did not understand a single word of it all, but he didn't lose courage for all that. He only nodded his approval to all of it. When the last had finished his harangue he asked, 'Can you reply to that?' 'That's easy enough,' said the lad. 'Why, when I was in my cradle and in my go-cart I could twist my mouth about and prate and jabber like you,' he said. 'But since you are so terribly learned, I'll put a question to you, and that shall not be a long one: Twigmuntus, Cowbelliantus, Perchnosius? Can you give me an answer to that?' And now you should have seen how they stretched their necks and strained their ears. They put on their spectacles and began to look into their books and turn over the leaves. But while they were searching and meditating, the lad put his hands in his trouser pockets, and looked so frank and fearless that they could not help admiring him, and wondering that one who was so young could be so learned and yet look just like other people. 'Well, how are you getting on?' said the lad. 'Cannot all your learning help you to open your mouths, so that I can have an answer to my question?' he said. Then they began to ponder and meditate, and then they glanced at the ceiling, and then they stared at the walls, and then they fixed their eyes upon the floor. But they could not give him any answer, nor could the king himself, although he was much more learned than all the others together. They had to give it up, and the lad got the princess and half the kingdom. This he ruled in his own way, and if it did not fare better, it did not fare worse for him than for the king with all his fundamental principles.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,Dharmabuddhi and Pâpabuddhi,The Panchatantra,"One of India's most influential contributions to world literature, the Panchatantra (also spelled Pañcatantra or Pañca-tantra) consists of five books of animal fables and magic tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form, between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then the stories were already ancient. The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables. Link to additional selections from the Panchatantra.","Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und Erzählungen, translated from the Sanskrit into German by Theodor Benfey, vol. 2 (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), book 1, story 19, pp. 114-18.","Dharmabuddhi, as soon as he had heard these words, took leave from his parents with a joyful heart, and one happy day set forth for foreign lands. Through their diligence and skill, Dharmabuddhi and Pâpabuddhi acquired great wealth on their travels. Happy, but also filled with longing, they turned homeward with their great treasure. For it is also said: For those who gain wisdom, art, and wealth in foreign lands, the absence of one hour has the length of hundreds. As they approached their city, Pâpabuddhi said to Dharmabuddhi, 'Friend, it is not prudent for us to return home with our entire treasure, for our families and relatives will want part of it. Therefore let us bury it somewhere here in the thick of the forest and take only a small part home with us. When the need arises, we can come back and get as much as we need from here. For they also say: A smart man does not show off his money, not even in small amounts, for the sight of gold will agitate even a good heart. And also: Like meat is devoured in the water by fish, on land by wild animals, and in the air by birds, he who owns money is everywhere at risk.' Upon hearing this, Dharmabuddhi said, 'Yes, my friend, that is what we will do!' After having thus buried their treasure, they both returned home and lived happily together. However, one day at midnight Pâpabuddhi went back into the forest, took the entire treasure, refilled the hole, and returned home. Then he went to Dharmabuddhi and said to him, 'Friend, each of us has a large family, and we are suffering because we have no money. Therefore, let us go to that place and get some money.' Dharmabuddhi answered, 'Yes, my friend, let us do it!' They went there and dug up the container, but it was empty. Then Pâpabuddhi struck himself on the head and cried out, 'Aha! Dharmabuddhi! You and only you have taken the money, for the hole has been filled in again. Give me my half of what you have hidden, or I will bring action against you at the king's court.' Dharmabuddhi said, 'Do not speak like that, you evildoer. I am in truth Dharmabuddhi, the one with a just heart! I would not commit such an act of thievery. After all, it is said: The person with a just heart treats another man's wife like his own mother, another man's property like a clod of earth, and all beings like himself.' Quarreling thus, they proceeded to the court where they told their stories and brought action against one another. The top judges decreed that they submit to an Ordeal of God, but Pâpabuddhi said, 'No! Such an ordeal is not just. After all, it is written: In a legal action one should seek documents. If there are no documents, then one should seek witnesses. If there are no witnesses, then wise men should prescribe an Ordeal of God. In this matter the goddess of the tree will serve as my witness. She will declare which one of us is a thief and which one an honest man.' To this they all replied, 'What you say is right, for it is also written: An Ordeal of God is inappropriate where there is a witness, be he even a man of the lowest caste, to say nothing of the case where he is a god. We too are very curious about this case. Tomorrow morning we shall go with you to that place in the forest.' In the meanwhile, Pâpabuddhi returned home and said to his father, 'Father! I have stolen this money from Dharmabuddhi, and one word from you will secure it for us. Without your word, we shall lose it, and I shall lose my life as well.' The father said, 'Child, just tell what I have to say in order to secure it!' Pâpabuddhi said, 'Father, in thus and such a place there is a large mimosa tree. It has a hollow trunk. Go hide yourself in it. When I swear an oath there tomorrow morning, then you must reply that Dharmabuddhi is the thief.' Having made these arrangements, the next morning Pâpabuddhi bathed himself, put on a clean shirt, and went to the mimosa tree with Dharmabuddhi and the judges. Once there, he spoke with a piercing voice, 'Sun and moon, wind and fire, heaven and earth, heart and mind, day and night, sunrise and sunset, all of these, like dharma, know a man's deeds. Sublime goddess of the forest, reveal which of us is the thief!' Then Pâpabuddhi's father, who was standing in the hollow trunk of the mimosa tree, said, 'Listen! Listen! The money was taken away by Dharmabuddhi!' Having heard this, the king's servants, their eyes opened wide with amazement, searched in their law books for an appropriate punishment for Dharmabuddhi's theft of the money. While they were thus engaged, Dharmabuddhi himself surrounded the tree's opening with flammable material, and set it on fire. When it was well ablaze, Pâpabuddhi's father emerged from the hollow tree. His eyes streaming, he cried out bitterly. 'What is this?' they asked him. He confessed everything, and then died. The king's servants forthwith hanged Pâpabuddhi from a branch of the mimosa tree, but they had only words of praise for Dharmabuddhi. Although the original author's or compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which is probably a Sanskrit word meaning 'court scholar.' The fables of the Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,Honesty and Dishonesty,Russia,NA,"Edith M. S. Hodgetts, Tales and Legends from the Land of the Tzar: Collection of Russian Stories, second edition (London: Griffith Farran and Company, 1891), pp. 233-41.","One day two peasants were conversing; one of them was boastful and untruthful, the other famed for truthfulness and honesty. The one was saying that it was better to live, telling lies and cheating everybody, and be rich; while the other replied that it was far better to live in poverty, as long as you were honest and truthful. So they began to dispute and quarrel, neither of them wishing to give in. They at last decided to go out into the village high-road, and ask the opinion of the very first person they met. They walked and walked, and soon saw a peasant plowing in a field close to the road; they went up to him, and said, 'Good man, judge our quarrel: how is it better to live in the wide world -- honestly or dishonestly? -- telling the truth or by telling lies?' 'Ah, my brothers, you cannot possibly live honestly in this world all your life! You must tell a lie now and then! Besides, an honest and truthful man must walk about all his life in straw shoes, while a liar and a dishonest man can walk in handsome boots. Take us, for example, our masters unjustly take our days from us, leaving no time for us to work in. [Footnote: The serfs were allowed three days in the week to work for themselves, while the other three days belonged to their masters.] We therefore have to pretend that we are overcome by sickness, and during that time go wood-cutting in the forest; if wood-cutting is forbidden by day, we go at night. We have always to dodge about in this world, my friends. We could not possibly get on otherwise.' 'Do you hear that?' said the liar to the honest man. 'What I told you was perfectly true!' But his companion would not be convinced, so they walked on farther, till they came across a merchant driving a wagon. 'Stop for a moment, good sir!' they cried. 'We want you to do us a favor, if you will not resent it, and promise not to be angry with us.' 'What is it?' 'We want you to decide our quarrel, and tell us whether it is better to live honestly in this world or dishonestly?' 'Ah, my children! it is difficult to live honestly. For my part, I think it is best to be dishonest; people cheat us, so why should we not cheat them?' 'You hear!' cried the liar to his companion. 'This good man is of my opinion, like the other.' Still the truthful man would not listen to his friend, so they went on farther and met a noble coming along the road. They stopped him, and said, 'Kindly judge our quarrel for us; how is it best to live in this world, honestly or dishonestly?' 'Well, you certainly have found something to quarrel about. You must have been very hard pressed for conversation. Of course, being dishonest is the only way to get on. What honesty and truthfulness is there in this world? You get sent to Siberia if you are honest and tell the truth!' 'You see, my friend, I am right after all!' said the liar.' Everyone thinks as I do, that it is better to live dishonestly.' 'No,' said the truthful man, ' it is not better, and I do not intend to live dishonestly, to please any one. If any misfortunes happen to me -- well, let them!' After this the two men went off in search of work; they journeyed on together for some time. The dishonest man always knowing how to adapt himself to the company he was in, wherever he went he had plenty to eat and drink and nothing to pay; while the honest man had to work for every drop of water and morsel of bread he got -- yet he did not grumble; he was perfectly satisfied. The dishonest man meanwhile laughed to himself as he watched his companion. When they had at last passed the village and reached the open country, where there were no inns or houses of any kind, the honest man became very hungry, and asked his companion to give him a morsel of bread, for he had plenty. 'But what will you give me for the bread?' 'Take whatever you like, though I have not much to lose.' 'Well, then, let me put out your eye!' 'Very well, put it out!' The horrid man did so, and gave him a very small piece of bread in return. They went on and on, until the honest man again became hungry, and asked his friend for another piece of bread. 'Very well, on condition that you let me knock out your other eye!' 'But if you do that, brother, I shall be blind!' 'Well, what matters, you are an honest, truthful man, you ought not to mind!' 'Well, if it must be so, it must! One cannot put up with hunger. If you are not afraid of committing the sin, knock out my eye and be happy.' The wretch did so, and giving his unfortunate companion a still smaller piece of bread than the first, left him in the middle of the deserted country road, and said, 'Go, find your way by yourself. I am not going to lead a blind man about!' After having eaten his piece of bread, the blind man felt his way along. 'Perhaps,' thought he, 'I may manage to find my way to the next village.' But he soon lost his way, and did not know where to go. He stopped, and throwing himself on his knees, began to pray to the saints to help him. 'Do not forsake me, miserable sinner that I am!' he cried. He prayed and prayed for a long time, and then heard a voice quite close to him saying, 'Turn to your right, good man, and you will come to a forest where you will hear the murmur of a fountain; feel your way to it, bathe your eyes in the clear water, and your eyesight will be restored. You will then see a large oak tree, climb up into it, and stop there through the night.' The blind man turned to the right, and with some difficulty reached the forest. He crawled along a path which soon brought him up to the murmuring fountain, and dipping his hands into the water, he began bathing his eyes. No sooner had he done so when his eyesight returned, and he was able to look about him once more. Not very far from the fountain stood an old oak tree, under which the grass seemed to have been greatly trampled down, and the earth around was dug up here and there and scattered about everywhere. He climbed up into the tree and waited until nightfall. At about midnight a number of evil spirits came flying down from all sides on to the trampled grass, and began boasting about what they had done and where they had been. One little devil said, 'I went to the beautiful princess, the king's daughter, and tormented her all day. I have gone on tormenting her for over ten years, and no one can cast me out, though many a handsome prince has tried, but all in vain; and, between ourselves, no one will ever succeed unless some fellow obtains that large image of the Virgin Mary, which is in the possession of a certain wealthy merchant; but then no one would ever think of that, and besides, if they did, the merchant would never part with it.' In the morning when all the devils had flown away, our friend the truthful man, who had heard the whole of the conversation, came down from his hiding place in the tree and went in search of the rich merchant. After inquiring everywhere, he at last found the merchant, and asked him to take him as a workman, saying, 'I will work hard for you for a whole year, but I want no wages. All I ask for is to have the famous image of the Virgin Mary which is in your possession.' The merchant consented, and the man worked away night and day, without a moment's rest, for he was very anxious to please his master. When the year was over he came to the merchant and asked for his reward. 'I am more than pleased with your work,' the merchant said; 'but I do not wish to part with the picture. Would not money do as well? You could have as much of it as you pleased, if that would satisfy you.' 'No; money would be of no use to me. Give me what you promised, and what you agreed upon when you took me.' 'It is hard for me to part with that picture; in fact, I don't know what I should do without it! Still, if you will work another year for me, I will give it to you.' There was no help for it, and the truthful man was obliged to consent. When the year was over, the merchant was again loath to part with the picture. 'I would rather reward you with all possible treasures,' the merchant said, 'than part with the picture; but if you are determined to have it, you must stop with me and work for another year.' It was difficult to argue with such a rich and influential man as the merchant; besides, it would not have been wise, under the circumstances. So our friend stayed and worked for his master another whole year, better and harder, if possible, than before. At the end of the third year the merchant actually took down the picture from the wall, and gave it to the man, saying, 'Take it, my good fellow, for you have worked so hard and so well, without ever grumbling, that I cannot refuse you this time; take it, and may the saints bless you.' The truthful man thanked the merchant, and taking the picture went to the king's palace, where the devil was tormenting the princess. 'I can cure the princess,' he said to the servants and people at court. When they heard this they seized him by the hands and brought him before the king, who was sitting on his throne, looking the picture of misery. The king at once had him taken to the room where the afflicted princess was kept. The man then asked for a large bowl of fresh water, into which he dipped the picture three times, and then bringing the water to the beautiful princess made her bathe her face in it. Hardly had she done so, when out sprang the demon, writhing until he became lifeless. When the enemy had expired, the lovely damsel became quite well and bright again. The king and queen were delighted, and did not know how they could best reward the good man who had proved such an excellent doctor. They wanted to ennoble him; they wanted to give him a quantity of all kinds of treasures and good things; but no, he would have nothing. 'I don't want anything,' he said. 'I shall marry him,' the princess whispered to her father, 'if he would care to have me!' 'Very well!' replied the king. As for our friend he did not object in the least, but was delighted. The wedding was then prepared, and the news immediately spread all over the kingdom, so that when the great day arrived there was quite a crowd to see the bride and bridegroom. From that day forth our friend, the truthful man, lived in the palace, was clad in royal garments, and dined at the king's table. Time passed, and our friend asked the king and queen to let him go and have a look at his own country. 'I have an old mother living in the village from which I come, and I want to see her again.' 'Let us go together,' said the princess. So they drove off in a lovely carriage and pair belonging to the king. They drove and drove, and on their way they met the wretch who had knocked out our friend's eyes. When the king's son-in-law saw him he stopped the carriage, and called out, 'How are you, my brother? Have you forgotten me? Do you not remember the quarrel we had together about honesty and dishonesty? and you knocking my eyes out because I did not agree with you.' The wretch began to tremble and did not know what to do or what to say. 'Do not be afraid, my friend,' said the other. ' I am not angry with you.' And then he began to explain everything to the dishonest man; how he had gone to the forest, and what he had heard there, and how he had worked three years for the rich merchant, and then received the picture of the Virgin Mary, and had at last married the king's beautiful daughter. When the dishonest man heard this, he thought he would also go into the forest and climb up the old oak tree. 'Perhaps,' said he to himself, 'I shall be just as fortunate as my friend!' So he went to the forest, found the murmuring fountain and the old oak tree, into which he climbed and waited until nightfall. At midnight the evil spirits again flew down from all sides on to the grass below; but this time they looked up, and seeing the dishonest man hiding in the tree, they seized him and tore him into a number of very small pieces.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,Justice or Injustice? Which Is Best?,Serbia,"Link to another translation of this story: John T. Naaké, 'Right and Wrong,' Slavonic Fairy Tales: Collected and Translated from the Russian, Polish, Servian, and Bohemian (London: Henry S. King and Company, 1874), pp. 130-34.","Csedomille Mijatovies, Serbian Folk-Lore: Popular Tales, edited by W. Denton (London: W. Isbister and Company, 1874), pp. 83-86.","After the death of the father the elder son said to the younger, 'Depart; I will not live with you any longer. Here are three hundred ducats and a horse: this is your portion of our father's property. Take it, for I owe you nothing more than this.' The younger son took the money and the horse which were offered him, and said, 'Thank God! See only how much of the kingdom has fallen to me!' Some time afterwards the two brothers, both of whom were riding, met by chance in a road. The younger brother greeted the elder one, saying, 'God help thee, brother!' And the elder answered, 'Why do you speak always about God? Nowadays injustice is better than justice.' The younger brother, however, said to him, 'I will wager with you that injustice is not, as you say, better than justice.' So they betted one hundred golden zechins, and it was arranged that they should leave the decision to the first man they met in the road. Riding together a little farther they met with Satan, who had disguised himself as a monk, and they asked him to decide which was better, justice or injustice? Satan answered, 'Injustice!' And the good brother paid the bad one the hundred golden zechins which he had wagered. Then they betted for another hundred zechins, and again a third time for a third hundred, and each time Satan -- who managed to disguise himself in different ways and meet them -- decided that injustice was better than justice. Thus the younger brother lost all his money, and his horse into the bargain. Then he said, 'Thank God! I have no more money, but I have eyes, and I wager my eyes that justice is better than injustice.' Thereupon the unjust brother, without waiting for any one's decision, drew his knife and cut both his brother's eyes out, saying, 'Now you have no eyes, let justice help you.' But the younger brother in his trouble only thanked God and said, 'I have lost my eyes for the sake of God's justice, but I pray you, my brother, give me a little water in some vessel to wash my wounds and wet my mouth, and bring me away from this place to the pine tree just about the spring, before you leave me.' The unjust brother did so, gave him water, and left him alone under the pine tree near the spring of water. There the unfortunate remained, sitting on the ground. Late, however, in the night, some fairies came to the spring to bathe, and one of them came to the spring to bathe, and one of them said to the others, 'Do you know, my sisters, that the king's daughter has got the leprosy? The king has summoned all the physicians, but no one can possibly help her. But if the king only knew, he would take a little of this water in which we are bathing, and wash his daughter therewith; and then in a day and a night she would recover completely from her leprosy. Just as any one deaf, or dumb, or blind, could be cured by this same water.' Then, as the cocks began to crow, the fairies hurried away. As soon as they were gone, the unfortunate man felt his way slowly with his outstretched hands till he came to the spring of water. There he bathed his eyes, and in an instant recovered his sight. After that he filled the vessel with water, and hurried away to the king, whose daughter was leprous, and said to the servants, 'I am come to cure the king's daughter, if he will only let me try. I guarantee that she will become healthy in a day and night.' When the king heard that, he ordered him to be led into the room where the girl was, and made her immediately bathe in the water. After a day and a night the girl came out pure and healthy. Then the king was greatly pleased, and gave the young prince the half of his kingdom, and also his daughter for a wife, so that he became the king's son-in-law, and the first man after him in the kingdom. The tidings of this great event spread all over the world, and so came to the ears of the unjust brother. He guessed directly that his blind brother must have met with good fortune under the pine tree, so he went himself to try to find it also. He carried with him a vessel full of water, and then carved out his own eyes with his knife. When it was dark the fairies came again, and, as they bathed, spoke about the recovery of the king's daughter. 'It cannot be otherwise,' they said; 'someone must have been listening to our last conversation here. Perhaps someone is listening now. Let us see.' So they searched all around, and when they came to the pine tree they found there the unjust brother who had come to seek after good fortune, and who declared always that injustice was better than justice. They immediately caught him, and tore him into four parts. And so, at the last, his wickedness did not help him, and he found to his cost that justice is better than injustice.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,Right Always Remains Right,Upper Lusatia (Germany/Poland),NA,"Albert Henry Wratislaw, Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources (London:Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 14, pp. 92-97.","There was once upon a time a huntsman, who had a son, who was also a huntsman. He sent his son into a foreign land, to look about him and learn something additional. Here he went into a tavern, where he found a stranger, with whom he entered into conversation. They told each other all the news, till they also began to talk about right and wrong. The stranger asserted that the greatest wrong could be made right for money. But the huntsman opined that right always remained right, and offered to bet three hundred dollars upon it, if the stranger would do the same. [Footnote: This surely ought, from what transpires later in the story, to have run thus: 'To stake his life against three hundred dollars to be staked by the stranger.'] The stranger was content therewith, and they agreed to ask three advocates the question at once. They went to the first advocate, and he said that it was possible to make wrong right for money. They then went to another. He also asserted that wrong could be made right for money. Finally, they went to a third. He also told them that wrong could be made right for money. They then went back again, and as they had been going about the whole day, it wasn't till late in the evening that they got to their tavern. The stranger then asked the huntsman whether he still disbelieved that the greatest wrong could be made right for money, and the huntsman replied that he should soon be obliged to believe it on the assertion of the three advocates, although he was very unwilling to do so. The stranger was willing to grant him his life if he consented to pay three hundred dollars; but as they were talking about it, in came a man who over-persuaded the stranger that he must needs abide by what they had previously agreed upon. He did not, however, do this, but only, with a red-hot iron, took his eyesight from him, and told him at the same time, that he would then and then only believe that right remained right in the world, when the huntsman regained his sight. The huntsman entreated the host of the tavern to put him on the right road to the town. He put him on the road to the gallows, and went his way. When the huntsman had gone a little further, there was the end of the road, and he heard it strike eleven. He couldn't go any further, and remained lying where he was in hope that perhaps somebody would come there in the morning. After a short time he heard a clatter, and soon somebody came up; nor was it long before a second and a third arrived. These were three evil spirits, who quitted their bodies in the night time, and perpetrated all manner of villainy in the world. They began to talk together, and one said, 'Today it is a year and a day since we were here together and related the good deeds that we had done during the year before. A year has again elapsed, and it is therefore time that we should ascertain which of us has done the best action during the past year.' The first spoke, and said, 'I have deprived the inhabitants of the city of Ramul of their water supply; they can only be helped if somebody finds out what it is that stops up the spring.' 'What's that?' said the second; and the first replied, 'I have placed a great toad on the spring out of which the water at other times flowed; if that be removed, the water will spring up again as before.' The second said, 'I have caused the beauty of the princess of Sarahawsky to disappear, and herself to fade away to skin and bones; she cannot be helped until the silver nail, which hangs above her bed, be pulled out.' The third said, 'Yesterday I caused a person to be deprived of his eyesight with a red hot iron; he can only be helped by washing his eyes with the water that is in the well not far from this gallows.' It then struck twelve in the town, and the three disappeared at once, but the huntsman remembered all that he had heard, and rejoiced that it was in his power to regain his eyesight. Early on the morrow he heard somebody passing by, and begged him to send him people from the town, to tell where the healing spring was. Then all manner of people came to him, but no one could show him the spring, save at length one old woman. He caused himself to be led thither, and as soon as he had washed his eyes in it, he immediately obtained his eyesight again. He now asked the way to the city of Ramul, and went thither. As soon as he arrived, he told the town council that he would restore them their water. But plenty of people had been there already, and the city had spent a great deal of money upon them, yet no one had effected aught, so, as it had been all in vain, they intended to have nothing more to do with the matter. Well, he said that he would do it all for nothing, only they must give him some laborers to help him. It was done. When they had dug as far as the place where the pipes, through which the water used to flow, were laid into the spring, he sent all the workmen away and dug a little further himself, and behold! a toad, like a boiler, was sitting on the spring. He removed it, and immediately the water began to flow, and ere long all the fountains were filled with water. The citizens got up a grand banquet in his honor, and paid him a large sum of money for what he had done. He then went on and came to Sarahawsky. Then in a short time he learnt that the princess was ill, just as he had heard, and that no physician was able to help her; moreover that the king had promised that the person who could cure her malady should obtain her to wife. He therefore equipped himself very handsomely, went to the king's palace, and there declared that he had come from a far country, and would cure the princess. The king replied to him that he had scarce any hope left, but would nevertheless make the experiment with him. The huntsman said that he would fetch his medicine. He went out and bought all manner of sweet comfits, and then went to the princess. He gave her a first dose, and looked about to see in what part of her bed's head the silver nail was sticking. Early on the second day he came again, gave her again some of his medicine, took the opportunity of laying hold of the nail, and pulled it till it began to move. In the afternoon the princess felt that she was better. The third day he came again, and while the princess was taking the medicine, pulled again at the bed's head, pulled the nail clean out, and put it secretly into his pocket. At noon the princess was so far recovered, that she wanted to have her dinner, and the king invited the huntsman to a grand banquet. They settled when the wedding was to take place, but the huntsman considered that he must first go home. And when he had got home, he went again to the tavern where he had lost the sight of his eyes, and the stranger was there also. They began to tell each other all the news, and the huntsman related what he had heard under the gallows; how he had discovered the water, and finally how he had regained the sight of his eyes, and said that the stranger must now believe that in the world right always remained right. The stranger marveled exceedingly, and said that he would believe it. After this the huntsman went on and came to his princess, and they had a grand wedding festival, which lasted a whole week. The stranger bethought himself that he, too, would go under the gallows; peradventure he might also hear some such things as the huntsman had heard, and might in consequence also obtain a princess to wife. And when the year had elapsed, he also went there. He heard it strike one, and in a short time he heard a clatter; then up came somebody again, and it wasn't long before a second and third arrived. They began to talk together, and one said, 'It cannot but be, that some one overheard us last year, and through that everything that we have done is ruined. Let us, therefore, make a careful search before we again recount to each other what we have done.' They immediately began to search, and found the stranger. They tore him into three pieces and hung them up on the three corners of the gallows. When the old king died they took the huntsman for king, and if he has not died, he is reigning still at the present day, and firmly believes that in his realm right will always remain right.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,The Grateful Beasts,Hungary,NA,"Andrew Lang, The Yellow Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1906), pp. 64-74. First published 1894.","The youngest of the three brothers, whose name was Ferko, was a beautiful youth, with a splendid figure, blue eyes, fair hair, and a complexion like milk and roses. His two brothers were as jealous of him as they could be, for they thought that with his good looks he would be sure to be more fortunate than they would ever be. One day all the three were sitting resting under a tree, for the sun was hot and they were tired of walking. Ferko fell fast asleep, but the other two remained awake, and the eldest said to the second brother, 'What do you say to doing our brother Ferko some harm? He is so beautiful that everyone takes a fancy to him, which is more than they do to us. If we could only get him out of the way we might succeed better.' 'I quite agree with you,' answered the second brother, 'and my advice is to eat up his loaf of bread, and then to refuse to give him a bit of ours until he has promised to let us put out his eyes or break his legs.' His eldest brother was delighted with this proposal, and the two wicked wretches seized Ferko's loaf and ate it all up, while the poor boy was still asleep. When he did awake he felt very hungry and turned to eat his bread, but his brothers cried out, 'You ate your loaf in your sleep, you glutton, and you may starve as long as you like, but you won't get a scrap of ours.' Ferko was at a loss to understand how he could have eaten in his sleep, but he said nothing, and fasted all that day and the next night. But on the following morning he was so hungry that he burst into tears, and implored his brothers to give him a little bit of their bread. Then the cruel creatures laughed, and repeated what they had said the day before; but when Ferko continued to beg and beseech them, the eldest said at last, 'If you will let us put out one of your eyes and break one of your legs, then we will give you a bit of our bread.' At these words poor Ferko wept more bitterly than before, and bore the torments of hunger till the sun was high in the heavens; then he could stand it no longer, and he consented to allow his left eye to be put out and his left leg to be broken. When this was done he stretched out his hand eagerly for the piece of bread, but his brothers gave him such a tiny scrap that the starving youth finished it in a moment and besought them for a second bit. But the more Ferko wept and told his brothers that he was dying of hunger, the more they laughed and scolded him for his greed. So he endured the pangs of starvation all that day, but when night came his endurance gave way, and he let his right eye be put out and his right leg broken for a second piece of bread. After his brothers had thus successfully maimed and disfigured him for life, they left him groaning on the ground and continued their journey without him. Poor Ferko ate up the scrap of bread they had left him and wept bitterly, but no one heard him or came to his help. Night came on, and the poor blind youth had no eyes to close, and could only crawl along the ground, not knowing in the least where he was going. But when the sun was once more high in the heavens, Ferko felt the blazing heat scorch him, and sought for some cool shady place to rest his aching limbs. He climbed to the top of a hill and lay down in the grass, and as he thought under the shadow of a big tree. But it was no tree he leant against, but a gallows on which two ravens were seated. The one was saying to the other as the weary youth lay down, 'Is there anything the least wonderful or remarkable about this neighborhood?' 'I should just think there was,' replied the other; 'many things that don't exist anywhere else in the world. There is a lake down there below us, and anyone who bathes in it, though he were at death's door, becomes sound and well on the spot, and those who wash their eyes with the dew on this hill become as sharp-sighted as the eagle, even if they have been blind from their youth.' 'Well,' answered the first raven, 'my eyes are in no want of this healing bath, for, Heaven be praised, they are as good as ever they were; but my wing has been very feeble and weak ever since it was shot by an arrow many years ago, so let us fly at once to the lake that I may be restored to health and strength again.' And so they flew away. Their words rejoiced Ferko's heart, and he waited impatiently till evening should come and he could rub the precious dew on his sightless eyes. At last it began to grow dusk, and the sun sank behind the mountains; gradually it became cooler on the hill, and the grass grew wet with dew. Then Ferko buried his face in the ground till his eyes were damp with dewdrops, and in a moment he saw clearer than he had ever done in his life before. The moon was shining brightly, and lighted him to the lake where he could bathe his poor broken legs. Then Ferko crawled to the edge of the lake and dipped his limbs in the water. No sooner had he done so than his legs felt as sound and strong as they had been before, and Ferko thanked the kind fate that had led him to the hill where he had overheard the ravens' conversation. He filled a bottle with the healing water, and then continued his journey in the best of spirits. He had not gone far before he met a wolf, who was limping disconsolately along on three legs, and who on perceiving Ferko began to howl dismally. 'My good friend,' said the youth, 'be of good cheer, for I can soon heal your leg,' and with these words he poured some of the precious water over the wolf's paw, and in a minute the animal was springing about sound and well on all fours. The grateful creature thanked his benefactor warmly, and promised Ferko to do him a good turn if he should ever need it. Ferko continued his way till he came to a ploughed field. Here he noticed a little mouse creeping wearily along on its hind paws, for its front paws had both been broken in a trap. Ferko felt so sorry for the little beast that he spoke to it in the most friendly manner, and washed its small paws with the healing water. In a moment the mouse was sound and whole, and after thanking the kind physician it scampered away over the ploughed furrows. Ferko again proceeded on his journey, but he hadn't gone far before a queen bee flew against him, trailing one wing behind her, which had been cruelly torn in two by a big bird. Ferko was no less willing to help her than he had been to help the wolf and the mouse, so he poured some healing drops over the wounded wing. On the spot the queen bee was cured, and turning to Ferko she said, 'I am most grateful for your kindness, and shall reward you some day.' And with these words she flew away humming, gaily. Then Ferko wandered on for many a long day, and at length reached a strange kingdom. Here, he thought to himself, he might as well go straight to the palace and offer his services to the king of the country, for he had heard that the king's daughter was as beautiful as the day. So he went to the royal palace, and as he entered the door the first people he saw were his two brothers who had so shamefully ill-treated him. They had managed to obtain places in the king's service, and when they recognized Ferko with his eyes and legs sound and well they were frightened to death, for they feared he would tell the king of their conduct, and that they would be hung. No sooner had Ferko entered the palace than all eyes were turned on the handsome youth, and the king's daughter herself was lost in admiration, for she had never seen anyone so handsome in her life before. His brothers noticed this, and envy and jealousy were added to their fear, so much so that they determined once more to destroy him. They went to the king and told him that Ferko was a wicked magician, who had come to the palace with the intention of carrying off the princess. Then the king had Ferko brought before him, and said, 'You are accused of being a magician who wishes to rob me of my daughter, and I condemn you to death; but if you can fulfill three tasks which I shall set you to do your life shall be spared, on condition you leave the country; but if you cannot perform what I demand you shall be hung on the nearest tree.' And turning to the two wicked brothers he said, 'Suggest something for him to do; no matter how difficult, he must succeed in it or die.' They did not think long, but replied, 'Let him build your Majesty in one day a more beautiful palace than this, and if he fails in the attempt let him be hung.' The king was pleased with this proposal, and commanded Ferko to set to work on the following day. The two brothers were delighted, for they thought they had now got rid of Ferko forever. The poor youth himself was heart-broken, and cursed the hour he had crossed the boundary of the king's domain. As he was wandering disconsolately about the meadows round the palace, wondering how he could escape being put to death, a little bee flew past, and settling on his shoulder whispered in his ear, 'What is troubling you, my kind benefactor? Can I be of any help to you? I am the bee whose wing you healed, and would like to show my gratitude in some way.' Ferko recognized the queen bee, and said, 'Alas! how could you help me? for I have been set to do a task which no one in the whole world could do, let him be ever such a genius! Tomorrow I must build a palace more beautiful than the king's, and it must be finished before evening.' 'Is that all?' answered the bee, 'then you may comfort yourself; for before the sun goes down tomorrow night a palace shall be built unlike any that king has dwelt in before. Just stay here till I come again and tell you that it is finished.' Having said this she flew merrily away, and Ferko, reassured by her words, lay down on the grass and slept peacefully till the next morning. Early on the following day the whole town was on its feet, and everyone wondered how and where the stranger would build the wonderful palace. The princess alone was silent and sorrowful, and had cried all night till her pillow was wet, so much did she take the fate of the beautiful youth to heart. Ferko spent the whole day in the meadows waiting the return of the bee. And when evening was come the queen bee flew by, and perching on his shoulder she said, 'The wonderful palace is ready. Be of good cheer, and lead the king to the hill just outside the city walls.' And humming gaily she flew away again. Ferko went at once to the king and told him the palace was finished. The whole court went out to see the wonder, and their astonishment was great at the sight which met their eyes. A splendid palace reared itself on the hill just outside the walls of the city, made of the most exquisite flowers that ever grew in mortal garden. The roof was all of crimson roses, the windows of lilies, the walls of white carnations, the floors of glowing auriculas and violets, the doors of gorgeous tulips and narcissi with sunflowers for knockers, and all round hyacinths and other sweet-smelling flowers bloomed in masses, so that the air was perfumed far and near and enchanted all who were present. This splendid palace had been built by the grateful queen bee, who had summoned all the other bees in the kingdom to help her. The king's amazement knew no bounds, and the princess's eyes beamed with delight as she turned them from the wonderful building on the delighted Ferko. But the two brothers had grown quite green with envy, and only declared the more that Ferko was nothing but a wicked magician. The king, although he had been surprised and astonished at the way his commands had been carried out, was very vexed that the stranger should escape with his life, and turning to the two brothers he said, 'He has certainly accomplished the first task, with the aid no doubt of his diabolical magic; but what shall we give him to do now? Let us make it as difficult as possible, and if he fails he shall die.' Then the eldest brother replied, 'The corn has all been cut, but it has not yet been put into barns; let the knave collect all the grain in the kingdom into one big heap before tomorrow night, and if as much as a stalk of corn is left let him be put to death.' The princess grew white with terror when she heard these words; but Ferko felt much more cheerful than he had done the first time, and wandered out into the meadows again, wondering how he was to get out of the difficulty. But he could think of no way of escape. The sun sank to rest and night came on, when a little mouse started out of the grass at Ferko's feet, and said to him, 'I'm delighted to see you, my kind benefactor; but why are you looking so sad? Can I be of any help to you, and thus repay your great kindness to me?' Then Ferko recognized the mouse whose front paws he had healed, and replied, 'Alas I how can you help me in a matter that is beyond any human power! Before tomorrow night all the grain in the kingdom has to be gathered into one big heap, and if as much as a stalk of corn is wanting I must pay for it with my life.' 'Is that all?' answered the mouse; 'that needn't distress you much. Just trust in me, and before the sun sets again you shall hear that your task is done.' And with these words the little creature scampered away into the fields. Ferko, who never doubted that the mouse would be as good as its word, lay down comforted on the soft grass and slept soundly till next morning. The day passed slowly, and with the evening came the little mouse and said, 'Now there is not a single stalk of corn left in any field; they are all collected in one big heap on the hill out there.' Then Ferko went joyfully to the king and told him that all he demanded had been done. And the whole Court went out to see the wonder, and were no less astonished than they had been the first time. For in a heap higher than the king's palace lay all the grain of the country, and not a single stalk of corn had been left behind in any of the fields. And how had all this been done? The little mouse had summoned every other mouse in the land to its help, and together they had collected all the grain in the kingdom. The king could not hide his amazement, but at the same time his wrath increased, and he was more ready than ever to believe the two brothers, who kept on repeating that Ferko was nothing more nor less than a wicked magician. Only the beautiful princess rejoiced over Ferko's success, and looked on him with friendly glances, which the youth returned. The more the cruel king gazed on the wonder before him, the more angry he became, for he could not, in the face of his promise, put the stranger to death. He turned once more to the two brothers and said, 'His diabolical magic has helped him again, but now what third task shall we set him to do? No matter how impossible it is, he must do it or die.' The eldest answered quickly, 'Let him drive all the wolves of the kingdom on to this hill before tomorrow night. If he does this he may go free; if not he shall be hung as you have said.' At these words the princess burst into tears, and when the king saw this he ordered her to be shut up in a high tower and carefully guarded till the dangerous magician should either have left the kingdom or been hung on the nearest tree. Ferko wandered out into the fields again, and sat down on the stump of a tree wondering what he should do next. Suddenly a big wolf ran up to him, and standing still said, 'I'm very glad to see you again, my kind benefactor. What are you thinking about all alone by yourself? If I can help you in any way only say the word, for I would like to give you a proof of my gratitude.' Ferko at once recognized the wolf whose broken leg he had healed, and told him what he had to do the following day if he wished to escape with his life. 'But how in the world,' he added, 'am I to collect all the wolves of the kingdom on to that hill over there?' 'If that's all you want done,' answered the wolf, 'you needn't worry yourself. I'll undertake the task, and you'll hear from me again before sunset tomorrow. Keep your spirits up.' And with these words he trotted quickly away. Then the youth rejoiced greatly, for now he felt that his life was safe; but he grew very sad when he thought of the beautiful princess, and that he would never see her again if he left the country. He lay down once more on the grass and soon fell fast asleep. All the next day he spent wandering about the fields, and toward evening the wolf came running to him in a great hurry and said, 'I have collected together all the wolves in the kingdom, and they are waiting for you in the wood. Go quickly to the king, and tell him to go to the hill that he may see the wonder you have done with his own eyes. Then return at once to me and get on my back, and I will help you to drive all the wolves together.' Then Ferko went straight to the palace and told the king that he was ready to perform the third task if he would come to the hill and see it done. Ferko himself returned to the fields, and mounting on the wolf's back he rode to the wood close by. Quick as lightning the wolf flew round the wood, and in a minute many hundred wolves rose up before him, increasing in number every moment, till they could be counted by thousands. He drove them all before him on to the hill, where the king and his whole Court and Ferko's two brothers were standing. Only the lovely princess was not present, for she was shut up in her tower weeping bitterly. The wicked brothers stamped and foamed with rage when they saw the failure of their wicked designs. But the king was overcome by a sudden terror when he saw the enormous pack of wolves approaching nearer and nearer, and calling out to Ferko he said, 'Enough, enough, we don't want any more.' But the wolf on whose back Ferko sat, said to its rider, 'Go on! go on!' and at the same moment many more wolves ran up the hill, howling horribly and showing their white teeth. The king in his terror called out, 'Stop a moment; I will give you half my kingdom if you will drive all the wolves away.' But Ferko pretended not to hear, and drove some more thousands before him, so that everyone quaked with horror and fear. Then the king raised his voice again and called out, 'Stop! you shall have my whole kingdom, if you will only drive these wolves back to the places they came from.' But the wolf kept on encouraging Ferko, and said, 'Go on! go on!' So he led the wolves on, till at last they fell on the king and on the wicked brothers, and ate them and the whole Court up in a moment. Then Ferko went straight to the palace and set the princess free, and on the same day he married her and was crowned king of the country. And the wolves all went peacefully back to their own homes, and Ferko and his bride lived for many years in peace and happiness together, and were much beloved by great and small in the land.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,The Heathen and the Jew,Jewish,NA,"M. Gaster, 'Fairy Tales from Inedited Hebrew MSS. of the Ninth and Twelfth Centuries,' Folk-Lore: Transactions of the Folk-Lore Society, vol. 7, no. 3 (September 1896), pp. 231-32.","Once a heathen and a Jew were walking along together, when the heathen remarked to the Jew, 'My religion is better than yours.' 'Not so,' replied the Jew; 'on the contrary, mine is better than yours, as it is said: What nation is there so great that has statutes and judgments so righteous as all this law.' The heathen then said, 'Supposing it is decided my religion is better than yours, then I will take your money; but if it be decided that your religion is better than mine, then you shall take my money.' The Jew replied, 'I agree to accept this condition.' As they were walking along, Satan appeared to them in the form of an old man. They thereupon asked him the question as to whose religion was the better; and he replied, 'That of the heathen is the better.' After they had proceeded a little farther, Satan appeared to them again, in the form of a young man. They put the same question, and they received the same reply. When they had walked a little farther, he appeared to them again in the form of another old man. On asking the same question again, the identical reply was once more given. The heathen therefore took the Israelite's money. The Israelite then journeyed on in fear of his life, and lodged in the open. When a third of the night had gone by, he heard some spirits speaking to each other. Two of them asked a third, 'Where have you been today?' to which he replied, 'I met a Jew and an Aramean, I laughed at them and gave evidence in favor of the heathen.' Then they asked another, 'Where have you been today?' to which he replied, 'I prevented the daughter of an emperor from giving birth, after she had suffered the pains of travail for seven days. But if they had taken some green leaves of the tree overhanging their throne, and had squeezed them upon her nose, she would have given birth immediately.' They again addressed a third spirit, 'Where have you been?' He replied, 'I stopped up the well of a certain province. But if they had taken a black ox and had slaughtered it over the water, the well would have been open again.' The Jew gave great heed to their conversation; and, rising up early in the morning, he went to the country of the emperor spoken of, and found his daughter in travail. He then told one to take some green leaves of the tree overhanging their throne, and to squeeze them upon her nose. This was done, and she immediately gave birth. The king thereupon presented the Jew with a large sum of money, because this was the only child he had. The Jew then journeyed to the country in which the stopped wells were to be found, and told the people to take a black ox and slaughter it over the well, after which the water would flow as usual. They did so, and the water flowed. The inhabitants thereupon presented him with a large sum of money. On the morrow he met the heathen who had taken his money, and the heathen expressed his surprise by saying, 'Have I not already taken all your money from you; how is it that you are such a rich man?' He then related to him what had happened. 'Then I will also go,' he said, 'and inquire of the people of that place.' He therefore journeyed on and lodged in that field; but the three spirits came and killed him, for it is said: The righteous is delivered out of trouble, and the wicked cometh in his stead (Proverbs, 11:8). Source: M. Gaster, 'Fairy Tales from Inedited Hebrew MSS. of the Ninth and Twelfth Centuries,' Folk-Lore: Transactions of the Folk-Lore Society, vol. 7, no. 3 (September 1896), pp. 231-32.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,The Travels of Truth and Falsehood,Hungary,NA,"János Kriza, The Folk-Tales of the Magyars (London: Published for the Folk-Lore society by Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 8, pp. 36-39.","A long time ago -- I don't exactly remember the day -- Truth started, with her bag well filled, on a journey to see the world. On she went over hill and dale, and through village and town, till one day she met Falsehood. 'Good day, countrywoman,' said Truth; 'where are you bound for? Where do you intend going?' 'I'm going to travel all over the world,' said Falsehood. 'That's right,' said Truth; 'and as I'm bound in the same direction let's travel together.' 'All right,' replied Falsehood; 'but you know that fellow travelers must live in harmony, so let's divide our provisions and finish yours first.' Truth handed over her provisions, upon which the two lived till every morsel was consumed; then it was Falsehood's turn to provide. 'Let me gouge out one of your eyes,' said Falsehood to Truth, 'and then I'll let you have some food.' Poor Truth couldn't help herself; for she was very hungry and didn't know what to do. So she had one of her eyes gouged out, and she got some food. Next time she wanted food she had the other eye gouged out, and then both her arms cut off. After all this Falsehood told her to go away. Truth implored not to be left thus helpless in the wilds, and asked that she might be taken to the gate of the next town and left there to get her living by begging. Falsehood led her, not to where she wanted to go, but near a pair of gallows and left her there. Truth was very much surprised that she heard no one pass, and thought that all the folks in that town must be dead. As she was thus reasoning with herself and trembling with fear she fell asleep. When she awoke she heard some people talking above her head, and soon discovered that they were devils. The eldest of them said to the rest, 'Tell me what you have heard and what you have been doing.' One said, 'I have today killed a learned physician, who has discovered a medicine with which he cured all crippled, maimed, or blind.' 'Well, you're a smart fellow!' said the old devil; 'What may the medicine be? ' 'It consists simply of this,' replied the other, 'that tonight is Friday night, and there will be a new moon. The cripples have to roll about and the blind to wash their eyes in the dew that has fallen during the night; the cripples will be healed of their infirmities and the blind will see.' 'That is very good,' said the old devil. 'And now what have you done, and what do you know?' he asked the others. 'I,' said another, 'have just finished a little job of mine; I have cut off the water supply and will thus kill the whole of the population of the country town not far from here.' 'What is your secret?' asked the old devil. 'It is this,' replied he. 'I have placed a stone on the spring which is situated at the eastern corner of the town at a depth of three fathoms. By this means the spring will be blocked up, and not one drop of water will flow. As for me, I can go everywhere without fear, because no one will ever find out my secret, and all will happen just as I planned it.' The poor crippled Truth listened attentively to all these things. Several other devils spoke; but poor Truth either did not understand them or did not listen to what they said, as it did not concern her. Having finished all, the devils disappeared as the cock crew announcing the break of day. Truth thought she would try the remedies she had heard, and at night rolled about on the dewy ground, when to her great relief her arms grew again. Wishing to be completely cured, she groped about and plucked every weed she could find, and rubbed the dew into the cavities of her eyes. As day broke she saw light once more. She then gave hearty thanks to the God of Truth that he had not left her, his faithful follower, to perish. Being hungry she set off in search of food. So she hurried off to the nearest town, not only for food, but also because she remembered what she had heard the devils say about cutting off the water supply. She hurried on, so as not to be longer than she could help in giving them her aid in their distress. She soon got there, and found everyone in mourning. Off she went straight to the king, and told him all she knew. He was delighted when he was told that the thirst of the people might be quenched. She also told the king how she had been maimed and blinded, and the king believed all she said. They commenced at once with great energy to dig up the stone that blocked the spring. The work was soon done ; the stone reached, lifted out, and the spring flowed once more. The king was full of joy and so was the whole town, and there were great festivities and a general holiday was held. The king would not allow Truth to leave, but gave her all she needed, and treated her as his most confidential friend, placing her in a position of great wealth and happiness. In the meantime Falsehood's provisions came to an end, and she was obliged to beg for food. As only very few houses gave her anything she was almost starving when she met her old travelling companion again. She cried to Truth for a piece of bread. 'Yes, you can have it,' said Truth, 'but you must have an eye gouged out;' and Falsehood was in such a fix that she had either to submit or starve. Then the other eye was taken out, and after that her arms were cut off, in exchange for dry crusts of bread. Nor could she help it, for no one else would give her anything. Having lost her eyes and her arms she asked Truth to lead her under the same gallows as she had been led to. At night the devils came; and, as the eldest began questioning the others as to what they had been doing and what they knew, one of them proposed that search be made, just to see whether there were any listeners to their conversation, as someone must have been eavesdropping the other night, else it would never have been found out how the springs of the town were plugged up. To this they all agreed, and search was made ; and soon they found Falsehood, whom they instantly tore to pieces, coiled up her bowels into knots, burnt her, and dispersed her ashes to the winds. But even her dust was so malignant that it was carried all over the world; and that is the reason that wherever men exist there Falsehood must be. Folk-Tales of the Magyars (London: Published for the Folk-Lore society by Elliot Stock, 1889), no.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,The Two Brothers (Chodsko),NA,NA,"Alexander Chodsko, Fairy Tales of the Alav Peasants and Herdsmen, from the French of Alex. Chodsko; translated and illustrated by Emily J. Harding (London: George Allen, 1896), pp. 3-9.","The poor fellow, after this brutal reception, did not know which way to turn. Hungry, scantily clad, shivering with cold, his legs could scarcely carry him along. He had not the heart to go home, with nothing for the children, so he went towards the mountain forest. But all he found there were some wild pears that had fallen to the ground. He had to content himself with eating these, though they set his teeth on edge. But what was he to do to warm himself, for the east wind with its chill blast pierced him through and through. 'Where shall I go?' he said; 'what will become of us in the cottage? There is neither food nor fire, and my brother has driven me from his door.' It was just then he remembered having heard that the top of the mountain in front of him was made of crystal, and had a fire forever burning upon it. 'I will try and find it,' he said, 'and then I may be able to warm myself a little.' So he went on climbing higher and higher till he reached the top, when he was startled to see twelve strange beings sitting round a huge fire. He stopped for a moment, but then said to himself, 'What have I to lose? Why should I fear? God is with me. Courage!' So he advanced towards the fire, and bowing respectfully, said, 'Good people, take pity on my distress. I am very poor, no one cares for me, I have not even a fire in my cottage; will you let me warm myself at yours?' They all looked kindly at him, and one of them said, 'My son, come sit down with us and warm yourself.' So he sat down, and felt warm directly he was near them. But he dared not speak while they were silent. What astonished him most was that they changed seats one after another, and in such a way that each one passed round the fire and came back to his own place. When he drew near the fire an old man with long white beard and bald head arose from the flames and spoke to him thus, 'Man, waste not thy life here; return to thy cottage, work, and live honestly. Take as many embers as thou wilt, we have more than we need.' And having said this he disappeared. Then the twelve filled a large sack with embers, and, putting it on the poor man's shoulders, advised him to hasten home. Humbly thanking them, he set off. As he went he wondered why the embers did not feel hot, and why they should weigh no more than a sack of paper. He was thankful that he should be able to have a fire, but imagine his astonishment when on arriving home he found the sack to contain as many gold pieces as there had been embers; he almost went out of his mind with joy at the possession of so much money. With all his heart he thanked those who had been so ready to help him in his need. He was now rich, and rejoiced to be able to provide for his family. Being curious to find out how many gold pieces there were, and not knowing how to count, he sent his wife to his rich brother for the loan of a quart measure. This time the brother was in a better temper, so he lent what was asked of him, but said mockingly, 'What can such beggars as you have to measure?' The wife replied, 'Our neighbor owes us some wheat; we want to be sure he returns us the right quantity.' The rich brother was puzzled, and suspecting something he, unknown to his sister-in-law, put some grease inside the measure. The trick succeeded, for on getting it back he found a piece of gold sticking to it. Filled with astonishment, he could only suppose his brother had joined a band of robbers; so he hurried to his brother's cottage, and threatened to bring him before the Justice of the Peace if he did not confess where the gold came from. The poor man was troubled, and, dreading to offend his brother, told the story of his journey to the Crystal Mountain. Now the elder brother had plenty of money for himself, yet he was envious of the brother's good fortune, and became greatly displeased when he found that his brother won every one's esteem by the good use he made of his wealth. At last he determined to visit the Crystal Mountain himself. 'I may meet with as good luck as my brother,' said he to himself. Upon reaching the Crystal Mountain he found the twelve seated round the fire as before, and thus addressed them, 'I beg of you, good people, to let me warm myself, for it is bitterly cold, and I am poor and homeless.' But one of them replied, 'My son, the hour of thy birth was favorable; thou art rich, but a miser; thou art wicked, for thou hast dared to lie to us. Well dost thou deserve thy punishment.' Amazed and terrified he stood silent, not daring to speak. Meanwhile the twelve changed places one after another, each at last returning to his own seat. Then from the midst of the flames arose the white-bearded old man and spoke thus sternly to the rich man, 'Woe unto the wilful! Thy brother is virtuous, therefore have I blessed him. As for thee, thou art wicked, and so shall not escape our vengeance.' At these words the twelve arose. The first seized the unfortunate man, struck him, and passed him on to the second; the second also struck him and passed him on to the third; and so did they all in their turn, until he was given up to the old man, who disappeared with him into the fire. Days, weeks, months went by, but the rich man never returned, and none knew what had become of him. I think, between you and me, the younger brother had his suspicions but he very wisely kept them to himself.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,The Two Brothers (Georgia),Georgia,NA,"Marjory Wardrop, Georgian Folk Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), no. 9, pp. 49-52.","When they had gone a little way they were hungry. One brother said to the other, 'Come, let us eat thy bread first, then we can eat mine.' And he agreed, and they took of his loaves and did eat, and they afterwards went on their way. And they travelled for some time in this manner. At last, when these ten loaves were finished, the brother who had first spoken said, 'Now, my brother, thou canst go thy way and I shall go mine. Thou hast no loaves left, and I will not let thee eat my bread.' So saying, he left him to continue his journey alone. He went on and on, and came to a mill in a thick forest. He saw the miller and said, 'For the love of God, let me stay here tonight.' The miller answered, 'Brother, it is a very terrible thing to be here at night; as thou seest, even I go elsewhere. Presently wild beasts will assemble in the wood, and probably come here.' 'Have no fear for me; I shall stay here. The beasts cannot kill me,' answered the boy. The miller tried to persuade him not to endanger his life, but when he found his arguments were of no avail he rose and went home. The boy crept inside the hopper of the mill. There appeared, from no one knows where, a big bear; he was followed by a wolf, then a jackal; and they all made a great noise in the mill. They leaped and bounded just as if they were having a dance. He was terrified, and, trembling from fear, he lay down, quaking all over, in the hopper. At last the bear said, 'Come, let each of us tell something he has seen or heard.' 'We shall tell our tales, but you must begin,' cried his companions. The bear said, 'Well, on a hill that I know dwells a mouse. This mouse has a great heap of money, which it spreads out when the sun shines. If anyone knew of this mouse's hole, and went there on a sunny day, when the money is spread out, and struck the mouse with a twig, and killed it, he would become possessed of great wealth.' 'That is not wonderful!' said the wolf. 'I know a certain town where there is no water, and every mouthful has to be carried a great distance, and an enormous price is paid for it! The inhabitants do not know that in the center of their town, under a certain stone, is beautiful, pure water. Now, if any one knew of this, and would roll away that stone, he would obtain great wealth.' 'That is nothing,' said the jackal. 'I know of a king who has one only daughter, and she has been an invalid for three years. Quite a simple remedy would cure her: if she were bathed in a bath of beech leaves she would be healed. You have no idea what a fortune any one would get if he only knew this.' When they had spoken thus, day began to dawn. The bear, the wolf, and the jackal went away into the wood. The boy came out of the hopper, gave thanks to God, and went to the mouse's hole, of which the bear had spoken. He arrived, and saw that the story was true. There was the mouse with the money spread out. He stole up noiselessly, and, taking twigs in his hand, he struck the mouse until he had killed it, and then gathered up the money. Then he went to the waterless town, rolled away the stone, and behold! streams of water flowed forth. He received a reward for this, and set out for the kingdom of which the jackal had spoken. He arrived, and enquired of the king, 'What wilt thou give me if I cure thy daughter?' The king replied, 'If thou canst do this I will give thee my daughter to wife.' The youth prepared the remedy, made the princess bathe in it, and she was cured. The king rejoiced greatly, gave him the maiden in marriage, and appointed him heir to the kingdom. This story reached the ears of the youth's brother. He went on and on, and it came to pass that he found his brother. He asked him, 'How and by what cunning has this happened?' The fortunate youth told him all in detail. 'I also shall go and stay at that mill a night or two.' His brother used many entreaties to dissuade him, and when he would not listen, said, 'Well, go if thou wilt, but I warn thee again it is very dangerous.' However, he would not be persuaded, and went away. He crept into the hopper, and was there all night. From some place or other arrived the former guests -- the bear, the wolf, and the jackal. The bear said, 'That day when I told you my story the mouse was killed, and the money all taken away.' The wolf said, 'And the stone was rolled away in the waterless town of which I spoke.' 'And the king's daughter was cured,' added the jackal. 'Then perhaps someone was listening when we talked here,' said the bear. 'Perhaps someone is here now,' shrieked his companions. 'Then let us go and look; certainly no one shall listen again,' said the three; and they looked in all the corners. They sought and sought everywhere. At last the bear looked into the hopper, and saw the trembling boy. He dragged him out and tore him to pieces.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,The Two Brothers (Schiefner),Tibet,The episode of the faithless wife's attempt to seduce the virtuous hero is classified as a type 318 folktale. Traditional examples include the ancient Egyptian story of 'Anpu and Bata' and the biblical story of 'Joseph and Potiphar's Wife' (Genesis 39:7-23).,"F. Anton von Schiefner, Tibetan Tales: Derived from Indian Sources, translated from the Tibetan of the Kah-gyur [Kanjur] by F. anton von Schiefner; done into English from the German by W. R. S. Ralston (London: Trübner and Company, 1882), no. 18, pp. 279-85.","In long past times, a king came to the throne in the palace of a country well provided with riches, prosperity, good harvests, and numerous inhabitants. Some time afterwards his wife became with child, and, after the lapse of eight or nine months, gave birth to a very handsome boy, complete in limbs and joints, whose skin was the color of gold, whose head stood out like a canopy, and who had long arms, a broad forehead, interlacing eyebrows, and a high-arched nose. At his birth there occurred many thousands of happy events. When his birth-feast was held, and the question arose as to giving him a name, the ministers said, 'O king, as many thousands of happy events have taken place at his birth, let him be called Kshemankara [promoting well-being].' This name was given to him, and he was entrusted to eight nurses: two to carry him, two to suckle him, two to cleanse him, and two to play with him. These nurses brought him up on various milk products and other excellent forms of nourishment, so that he shot up like a lotus in a pool. The king's wife again became with child, and after the lapse of eight or nine months a boy was born, at whose birth many thousands of unfortunate events took place, on which account there was given to him the name of Papankara [the opposite of Kshemankara, from papa, bad]. He also thrived apace and grew up. The young Kshemankara, who was of a friendly and merciful nature, and compassionate towards all living creatures, loved to give, taking his delight in bestowing, and conferred gifts upon the Sramanas and Brahmans, the poor and the needy who begged of him. His father said to him, 'O son, do not be constantly making presents. If you give away so freely, where are we to find the necessary riches?' Now, in accordance with the nature of things, many men take delight in gifts and giving, and when they thus delight themselves their fame is extolled in words and verses, and celebrated in all parts of the world. The king of another country, who had heard of the great virtues of the prince, wished to give him his daughter. The prince's father was highly pleased, and wanted to go to meet her. But Kshemankara said, 'Until I have acquired wealth I will not marry. Allow me, O father, to go to sea.' He replied, 'Do so.' When he set forth for the sea with his merchandise, his brother, Papankara, said to himself, 'As he is now liked and loved by many men, he will be still more liked and loved by many men when he shall have equipped a sea-ship and have returned home. And as there will be an opportunity of his being invested with the regal power during our father's lifetime, therefore I, too, instead of remaining here to see whose turn will come, will go to sea along with him, and will take away his life out there, and then I shall be invested with the heirship even against my father's will.' With these thoughts in his mind he went to his father, and said to him, 'O father, as Kshemankara is going to sea I will go with him.' His father said, 'Do so.' Now Kshemankara ordered proclamation to be made throughout the land as follows: 'Listen, O honorable merchants inhabiting the city. As Prince Kshemankara is going to sea with merchandise, and as he among you who is inclined to go to sea under Prince Kshemankara's guidance will be freed from tolls, taxes, and freight-money, therefore get ready the goods which are to be taken to sea.' Many hundreds of merchants got ready goods to be taken to the sea. Then Kshemankara, as the leading trader, accompanied by his brother Papankara, after performing ceremonies for the sake of obtaining a successful result, surrounded by many hundreds of merchants, taking with him in wagons, carts, chests, and hampers, and on camels, oxen, and asses, quantities of goods to be transported by sea, set out on his way. Visiting lands, towns, villages, commercial emporiums, and estates, he came by degrees to the sea-coast. There he purchased a ship for five hundred karshapanas, and after making proclamation three times, set out on the ocean, taking with him five hundred servants, diggers, cleansers, fishermen, mariners, and pilots. When on board ship he said to his brother Papankara, 'Should a shipwreck take place in the middle of the ocean, then throw your arms round my neck without hesitation.' Papankara replied, 'Good, I will do so.' After a time the ship arrived with a favorable wind at the Island of Jewels, and the steersman said, 'Listen, O honorable merchants of Jambudvipa! As ye have heard that the Island of Jewels is a mine of diamonds, lapis lazuli, turquoises, emeralds, and divers other precious stones, therefore have we come hither. Now then, take yourselves as many jewels as ye wish.' They searched for them with joy and desire, and they filled the ship full, as though with rice, peas, sesame, and the like. Now, as Bodisats are wise and sharp-witted, Prince Kshemankara made fast to his girdle some large jewels of great value. On the way back, when not far from shore, the ship was rendered useless in consequence of an injury inflicted by a sea monster. Therefore Papankara threw his arms round the neck of Kshemankara, who by great exertions brought him ashore. Exhausted by the burden, Kshemankara fell asleep. As he lay sleeping, Papankara caught sight of the jewels fastened to his girdle, and thought, 'Ought I to return with empty hands while he comes back with such jewels?' Then he took away the jewels from his soundly sleeping brother, put both his eyes out with a thorn, and left him sightless on the ocean shore. By a fortunate chance some oxherds who were tending their cattle came to that spot. When they saw the prince, they said, 'Ho, friend, who are you?' He told them everything that had occurred. When they had heard his story they were filled with compassion, and they led him to the house of the chief herdsman. There he took to playing on the lute. The chief herdsman's wife, who was charmed by his youth and beauty, heard the sound of his lute and tried to allure him. But he, thinking of a course of life acquired by good deeds, closed his ears and did not stir. As there is nothing which they may not do who are seized by desire, she said to her husband, 'This blind man is trying to tempt me, will you put up with such people?' The prince reflected that, of all kinds of anger, the worst is the anger of a wife, and perceived that there was nothing left for him, in order not to be smitten thereby, but to go away. So he left the house, and along all manner of streets, market places, and by-roads, he gained himself a living by his music. On the death of his father his brother, Papankara, came to the throne. And after a time he himself arrived at the town of that neighboring king who had formerly wished to give him his daughter in marriage. She had by this time grown up, but when there came to woo her the sons of kings, ministers, and purohitas, dwelling in many lands, her father said, 'O daughter, Prince Kshemankara, for whom I had intended you, went to sea and there died in consequence of a misfortune. As suitors have now arrived, and as those who do not obtain you will be discontented, the question arises, what is to be done?' She replied, 'O father, if this be the case, let orders be given to have the city swept and garnished; I will choose a husband for myself.' Then the king ordered proclamation to be made in the different lands and cities that his daughter was going to choose herself a husband. He also gave orders that his own city should be cleared of stones, potsherds, and rubble, sprinkled with sandalwood water, and perfumed with odors, and that canopies, standards, and flags, should be set up, and numerous silken hangings displayed, together with flowers of many kinds, giving the appearance of a grove of the gods, and that joy-inspiring proclamation should be made to this effect: 'O honorable dwellers in town and country, and crowds of men assembled from various lands, give ear! Tomorrow the king's daughter will choose herself a husband. So do ye assemble as is fitting.' Next morning the king's daughter, adorned with many ornaments and surrounded by numerous maidens, came to a grove made bright with flowers by the deity of the grove, rendered extremely beautiful by the dispensation of great good fortune. And when several thousand men had assembled in the midst of the city, she came into the assembly in order to choose herself a husband. Somewhat removed sat Kshemankara playing on the lute. As men by their deeds are reciprocally connected, and the force of effect is constrained by the great power of cause, so it came to pass that the king's daughter, when her feelings were moved by the sound of the lute, became closely attached to Kshemankara's playing, and she threw him the crown of flowers, crying, 'This man is my husband.' The assembled people were discontented, and some of them in bitterness of heart began to find fault with her, saying, 'What sense is there in this, that the royal princess, who has so much beauty, and who is so supremely young and accomplished, should slight the sons of kings, ministers, and purohitas, who have come from many lands, besides excellent householders, and should choose a blind man to be her husband?' With reluctance and discontent did the officials convey the tidings to the king, saying, 'O king, the princess has completed the choice of a husband.' The king said, 'What manner of man has she chosen?' They replied, 'O king, a blind man.' The king also was displeased when he heard this, and he sent for his daughter and said, 'O daughter, wherefore have you chosen such a man as your husband, in spite of there being extremely young, rich and handsome sons of kings, proprietors, merchants, caravan leaders, ministers, and purohitas?' She replied, 'O father, this is the man I want.' The king said, 'O daughter, if that be so, then go to him. Wherefore do you delay?' She went to him and said, 'I have chosen you as my husband.' He replied, 'Therein you have not acted well. Perhaps you have thought, 'as such is the case and this man is blind, I can give myself to another.'' She replied, 'I am not one who does such things.' He said, 'What proof is there of this?' She replied, commencing an asseveration: 'If it be true, and my asseveration is righteous, that I have been in love only with Prince Kshemankara and with you, but with none else, then through the power of this truth and my asseveration shall one of your two eyes become sound as before.' So soon as this asseveration was uttered, one of his eyes came again just as it was before. Then he said, 'I am Kshemankara. My brother Papankara reduced me to the state I was in.' She said, 'What proof is there that you are Prince Kshemankara?' Then he too began to asseverate, saying, 'If it be true, and my asseveration righteous, that although Papankara put out my eyes, I do not in the least bear him malice, then in consequence of the truth and affirmation may my other eye become sound as before.' So soon as he had pronounced this asseveration, his other eye also became as it had been originally. Then the royal princess betook herself to the king, along with Kshemankara, who was no longer imperfect in any part of his body, and said, 'O father, this is Kshemankara himself.' As the king was incredulous, she told him how everything had come about. The king was exceedingly astonished, but with great joy did he give his daughter to Kshemankara as his wife. Then he set forth with a great army for that city, and drove Papankara from power, and set Kshemankara as king upon his father's throne.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,The Two Peasants,Sri Lanka,NA,"S. Jane Goonetilleke, 'Sinhalese Folklore,' The Orientalist: A Journal of Oriental Literature, Arts and Sciences, Folklore, etc., etc., etc., vol. 2 (1885-86), pp. 150-52.","In a certain village there once lived two peasants, who, being very poor, and having no means of earning a livelihood, sold the little possessions they had, and left their village in the hope of finding better fortune elsewhere. At the outset, one of them said to his companion: 'Friend, if you provide out of your own purse for both of us, I will do likewise when your money is over.' The other readily agreed to this proposal, and from thenceforth when he cooked his meals he always gave his friend half of it. The peasant who first began to spend soon exhausted his little stock of money, and when the other had prepared his meals, he coolly began to eat it without inviting his companion to join him. Surprised at this proceeding he inquired why his share was not given him. 'You were a fool to spend for both of us,' replied the other. 'I am not going to imitate you, and waste my money on you.' The poor peasant had to starve that day, and for three days more, until he could bear it no longer. When his companion had cooked his rice as usual, he begged so hard for some, that at length he was promised a spoonful, if only he should allow one of his eyes to be plucked out. He was in such an extremity of hunger that he agreed to this condition. A spoonful of rice was then given him, and with the handle of the same spoon which conveyed the rice to his leaf one of his eyes was pierced through. The rice that he had then obtained helped to keep him up for another three days. At the end of that time he was again so hungry that he could not but beg for another spoonful, which he received on the same condition as before. Being now blind of both eyes, he was looked upon by his friend as a useless encumbrance, and he therefore determined to get rid of him. He thought he could do this by walking away as fast as he could, but the blind man was not to be got rid of so easily. Listening attentively to his treacherous companion's footsteps, he managed to grope his way in the direction in which the other went. As they were passing through a deep forest, the wicked peasant took his helpless companion, and, after binding him firmly, left him under a tree to the tender mercies of the wild beasts, and went his way. The blind man had not been very long under the tree, when he overheard the conversation of some Raksasas, who were resting on the tree at the time. One of them said: 'All are not aware of the rare qualities of this tree. Any blind man will have his sight restored to him, if he will only rub his eyes with a little of the juice of this tree.' 'That is not all,' said another, 'if a man should eat one of these leaves, he would not be hungry for seven days and seven nights.' 'More than that,' said the third, 'if a man eat the fruit that grows on the summit of this tree, he will become a king within seven days.' When the Raksasas had gone away the man raised himself with difficulty, and contrived to injure the bark of the tree, and thus obtained a little of its juice, which he at once applied to his eyes, and he immediately recovered his sight. His next care was to free himself, and to eat one of the leaves of the tree. When he had eaten the leaf, he felt quite strong and able to climb the tree, which he did, and ate the fruit that was on its summit with the firm conviction that he would become a king within seven days. He set off, and wandering about reached a town on the seventh day, and during all that time he did not once feel the pangs of hunger. He arrived at the city tired and dusty and entered an ambalama (rest-house), but it had already been occupied by some men, who, not caring to have in their company so dirty and ragged a man, drove him out. Being quite exhausted he sat down outside the ambalama. [To make the story plain it is necessary to mention that amongst most of the eastern nations, when a king died, the choice of his successor lay wholly with the elephant on which the deceased king was accustomed to ride. The animal was decked in all its splendid coverings, and led along the streets of the town, and before whomsoever the elephant knelt that fortunate individual was chosen king.] Now it happened that the king of that country had just died, and the royal elephant was led along the streets to select its next rider. Seeing our friend, the peasant, outside the ambalama, the elephant at once knelt down before him; and he was crowned king. The treacherous friend of the new king had already arrived in the same city and married the daughter of the king's prime minister. One day the prime minister was called away to some distant country, and as he expected to be away for some days, he appointed his son-in-law to act for him. No sooner did the acting prime minister see the new king than he was struck with the resemblance he bore to his quondam companion. But he reassured himself that it could not be he, for, thought he, 'how could a blind man regain his sight?' But the more he saw of the new king the more uneasy he began to be. At length he became quite anxious to ascertain whether this was his old friend or not. Fearing to ask the king a direct question, he sat to work in a roundabout way to get at the truth. In the prime minister the king at once recognised his base friend, but he betrayed no signs whatever of recognition. One day the prime minister said to the king, 'Sire! is it possible for a blind man by any means in the world to regain his sight?' The king answered: 'It is not an impossibility. If a man only sought it he would find a remedy even for blindness.' The acting prime minister was now quite convinced that the king was his former companion. His ambition was roused, for, thought he, 'If this man, whom I had left so helpless in the forest had become a king, why should I not be able to do the same? If only I could get some one to treat me as I treated my companion, then the result must be the same.' Thus deluding himself, he set out from the city with his wife, having instructed her how to act. First the man provided food for both, and and when his stock of money was over his wife treated him in the same way he had treated his friend, and finally left him firmly bound under a tree. Before parting she told him where he would find her when he became king. The woman went on till she came to a shepherd's hut. The shepherd's wife was alone at home, and the future king's wife explained to her their prospects and obtained leave to stay with her for seven days, when, she said, her husband, the king, would come to fetch her. In the evening when the shepherd's wife saw her husband coming home, she ran up to him and told him: 'We have a royal guest under our roof, and it is not becoming that you should go into her presence in that state. Go, wash yourself and put on clean clothes before you enter into her presence.' She then explained to him how in seven days the king was expected. Seven days elapsed but there was no sign of the coming king, and the shepherd began to doubt the woman's tale. Another seven days, and he lost all patience. At last he got the true story from the woman, how she had left her husband blinded and bound under a tree in a thick jungle. The shepherd repaired to the spot to find out what had really happened to the man. When he reached the place he found the unfortunate man's carcass surrounded by eagles and other ravenous birds and animals. When the shepherd returned home, the would-be queen eagerly questioned him as to the fate of her husband, and asked him whether he had indeed been crowned king. 'Oh, yes,' replied the man, 'I found him surrounded by so many of his subjects that I could not exchange one word with him, and tell him of your welfare, but now you can go and see for yourself.' So saying he drove her out of his house as an adventuress.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,The Two Travelers,Germany,Link to additional stories from the Grimm brothers' collection Childrens' and Household Tales.,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Die beiden Wanderer, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, no. 107.","Mountain and valley do not meet, but the children of men do, both good and bad. Thus a shoemaker and a tailor once met on their travels. The tailor was a handsome little fellow who was always cheerful and satisfied. He saw the shoemaker approaching him from the other side, and, observing from his bag what is trade was, he sang a mocking little song to him: Sew me the seam, Pull me the thread, Left and right, spread it with pitch, Pound, pound the nail on the head. The shoemaker, however, could not take a joke. He pulled a face as if he had drunk vinegar, and made a gesture as if he were about to seize the tailor by the collar. With that the little fellow began to laugh, offered him his bottle, saying, 'No harm was meant. Take a drink, and swallow your anger.' The shoemaker took a mighty drink, and the storm on his face began to clear away. He gave the bottle back to the tailor, and said, 'I took a hearty gulp. They have a lot to say about heavy drinking, but not much about great thirst. Shall we travel together?' 'All right,' answered the tailor, 'but only if only it suits you to go to a big town where there is no lack of work.' 'That is just where I wanted to go,' answered the shoemaker. 'In a small place there is nothing to be earned, and in the country people prefer to go barefoot.' Thus they traveled on together, always setting one foot before the other like a weasel in the snow. Both of them had time enough, but little to eat. When they reached a town they went about looking for work, and because the tailor looked so lively and merry, and had such fine red cheeks, every one gave him work willingly, and if he was lucky, the master's daughter gave him a kiss as well. Whenever he met up with the shoemaker, the tailor always had the most in his bundle. The ill-tempered shoemaker would make a sour face, thinking, 'The greater the rascal, the better the luck.' But the tailor would begin to laugh and to sing, and shared everything he had with his comrade. If a couple of pennies jingled in his pockets, he ordered drinks, then cheerfully thumped the table until the glasses danced. His motto was 'Easy come, easy go.' After they had traveled for some time, they came to a great forest through which passed the way to the capital. Two footpaths led through it, one of which was a seven days' journey and the other only two, but neither of them knew which way was the shorter one. They sat down beneath an oak tree and discussed together what preparations to make, and for how many days they should provide themselves with bread. The shoemaker said, 'One must plan ahead for the unexpected. I will take with me bread for a week.' 'What?' said the tailor. 'Haul bread for seven days on one's back like a beast of burden and not be able to look about? I shall trust in God, and not trouble myself about anything. The money I have in my pocket is as good in summer as in winter, but in hot weather bread dries out and gets moldy on top of that. Even my coat reaches only to my ankles. Why shouldn't we find the right way? Bread for two days, and that's enough.' Therefore each person bought his own bread, and then they tried their luck in the forest. It was as quiet there as in a church. No wind stirred, no brook murmured, no bird sang, and no sunbeam found its way through the thickly leaved branches. The shoemaker did not speak a word. The bread weighed so heavily on his back that the sweat streamed down his cross and gloomy face. The tailor, however, was quite merry. Walking on with a spring in each step, he whistled on a leaf, or sang a song, and thought to himself, 'God in heaven must be pleased that I am so happy.' This lasted two days, but on the third there was still no end to the forest, and the tailor had eaten up all his bread. Thus his heart sank down a yard deeper. Nevertheless, he did not lose courage, but relied on God and on his luck. On the evening of the third day he lay down hungry under a tree, and rose again the next morning still hungry. The fourth day was the same, and when the shoemaker seated himself on a fallen tree and devoured his dinner the tailor was only a spectator. If he begged for a little piece of bread, the other laughed mockingly, and said, 'You have always been so merry. Now you can see for once what it is like to be sad. Birds that sing too early in the morning are caught by the hawk in the evening.' In short, he was merciless. On the fifth morning the poor tailor could no longer stand up and was hardly able to utter one word for weakness. His cheeks were white, and his eyes were red. Then the shoemaker said to him, 'I will give you a bit of bread today, but in return for it, I will put out your right eye.' The unhappy tailor, who still wished to save his life, had to submit. He wept once more with both eyes, and then held them out, and the shoemaker, who had a heart of stone, put out his right eye with a sharp knife. The tailor remembered what his mother had once said to him when he had been snacking in the pantry: 'Eat whatever you can, and suffer whatever you must.' After eating his dearly bought bread, he got on his legs again, forgot his misery, and comforted himself with the thought that he could always see enough with one eye. But on the sixth day, hunger made itself felt again, almost consuming his heart. That evening he fell down by a tree, and on the seventh morning he was too weak to get up, and death was close at hand. Then the shoemaker said, 'I will show mercy and give you bread once more, but you shall not have it for nothing. I shall put out your other eye for it.' And now the tailor felt how careless his life had been, prayed to God for forgiveness, and said, 'Do what you will. I will bear what I must, but remember that our Lord God does not always look on passively, and that an hour will come when the evil deed which you have done to me, and which I have not deserved of you, will be requited. When times were good with me I shared what I had with you. My trade is such that one stitch must follow another. If I no longer have my eyes and can sew no more, I must go begging. At any rate do not leave me here alone when I am blind, or I shall die of hunger.' The shoemaker, however, who had driven God out of his heart, took the knife and put out his left eye. Then he gave him a bit of bread to eat, held out a stick to him, and led him on behind him. At sunset, they got out of the forest, and before them in an open field stood the gallows. The shoemaker led the blind tailor there, and then went on his way, leaving him there alone. Weariness, pain, and hunger made the wretched man fall asleep, and he slept the whole night. He awoke at dawn, not knowing where he was. Two poor sinners were hanging on the gallows, with a crow sat on the head of each of them. Then one of the men who had been hanged began to speak, and said, 'Brother, are you awake?' 'Yes, I am awake,' answered the second. 'Then I will tell you something,' said the first. 'The dew that this night has fallen down over us from the gallows gives everyone who washes himself with it his eyes again. If the blind knew this, how many would regain their sight who do not believe that to be possible?' Hearing this the tailor took his handkerchief, pressed it on the grass, and when it was moist with dew, washed the sockets of his eyes with it. Immediately what the man on the gallows had said came true, and a pair of healthy new eyes filled the sockets. It was not long before the tailor saw the sun rise from behind the mountains. In the plain before him lay the great royal city with its magnificent gates and hundred towers, and the golden balls and crosses on the spires began to shine. He could distinguish every leaf on the trees, saw the birds flying past, and the gnats dancing in the air. He took a needle out of his pocket, and as he could thread it as well as ever he had done, his heart danced with delight. He threw himself on his knees, thanked God for the mercy he had shown him, and said his morning prayer, not forgetting to pray for the poor sinners who were hanging there swinging against each other in the wind like the pendulums of clocks. Then he took his bundle on his back and soon forgot the sorrow he had endured, and went on his way singing and whistling. The first thing he came to was a brown foal freely running about the field. He caught it by the mane, and wanted to mount it and ride into the town. The foal, however, begged for its freedom. 'I am still too young,' it said. 'Even a light tailor such as you are would break my back in two. Let me go until I have grown strong. Perhaps a time may come when I can reward you for it.' 'Run off,' said the tailor. 'I see that you are still only a whippersnapper.' He gave it a touch on its back with a switch, whereupon it kicked up its hind legs for joy, jumped over hedges and ditches, and galloped away into the open country. The little tailor had eaten nothing since the day before. 'The sun fills my eyes,' he said, 'but bread does not fill my mouth. The first thing that comes my way and is even half edible will have to suffer for it.' In the meantime a stork stepped solemnly over the meadow towards him. 'Stop, stop,' cried the tailor, and seized him by the leg. 'I don't know if you are good to eat or not, but my hunger leaves me no great choice. I must cut your head off, and roast you.' 'Don't do that,' replied the stork. 'I am a sacred bird that brings mankind great profit, and no one harms me. If you spare my life I will be able do you good in some other way.' 'Then be off, cousin longlegs,' said the tailor. The stork rose up, let its long legs hang down, and flew gently away. 'What's to be the end of this?' said the tailor to himself at last. 'My hunger grows greater and greater, and my stomach more and more empty. Whatever comes in my way now is lost.' Then he saw a couple of young ducks which were on a pond come swimming towards him. 'You come just at the right moment,' said he, and laid hold of one of them and was about to wring its neck. With this an old duck which was hidden among the reeds, began to squawk loudly. She swam to him with open beak, begging him urgently to spare her dear children. 'Can you not imagine,' said she, 'how your mother would mourn if someone wanted to carry you off, and do an end to you.' 'Quiet down,' said the good-natured tailor. 'You shall keep your children,' and he set the captured one back into the water. When he turned around, he was standing in front of an old tree which was partly hollow, and saw some wild bees flying in and out of it. 'There I shall find the reward of my good deed,' said the tailor. 'The honey will refresh me.' But the queen bee came out and threatened him, saying, 'If you touch my people and destroy my nest our stings shall pierce your skin like ten thousand red-hot needles. But if you leave us in peace and go your way we will do you a service for it another time.' The little tailor saw that here also nothing was to be done. Three dishes empty and nothing on the fourth is a bad dinner. He dragged himself therefore with his starved-out stomach into the town, and as it was just striking twelve, all was ready-cooked for him in the inn, and he was able to sit down at once to dinner. When he was satisfied he said, 'Now I will get to work.' He went around the town, sought a master, and soon found a good situation. Because he already had thoroughly learned his trade, it was not long before he became famous, and everyone wanted to have a new coat made by the little tailor. His reputation grew day by day. 'I can go no further in skill,' said he, 'and yet things improve every day.' At last the king appointed him court tailor. But strange things do happen in the world. On that very same day his former comrade the shoemaker also became court shoemaker. When the latter caught sight of the tailor, and saw that he once more had two healthy eyes, his conscience troubled him. 'Before he takes revenge on me,' he thought to himself, 'I must dig a pit for him.' He, however, who digs a pit for another, falls into it himself. In the evening when work was over and it was growing dark, he sneaked to the king and said, 'Your majesty, the tailor is an arrogant fellow and has boasted that he will get the golden crown back again that was lost ages ago.' 'That would please me,' said the king, and the next morning he had the tailor brought before him, and ordered him to get the crown back again, or to leave the city forever. 'Aha,' thought the tailor. 'A rogue gives more than he has. If the bad-tempered king wants me to do what no one else can do, I will not wait until morning, but will leave town at once.' Therefore he tied up his bundle, but once outside the gate he could not help being sorry to give up his good fortune and turn his back on the city in which all had gone so well for him. He came to the pond where he had made the acquaintance of the ducks. At that very moment the old one whose young ones he had spared was sitting there by the shore, preening herself with her beak. She knew him again instantly, and asked why he was hanging his head so. 'You will not be surprised when you hear what has happened to me,' replied the tailor, and told her his fate. 'If that is all,' said the duck, 'we can help you. The crown fell into the water, and it lies down below at the bottom. We will soon bring it up again for you. In the meantime just spread out your handkerchief on the bank.' She dived down with her twelve young ones, and in five minutes she was up again with the crown resting on her wings. The twelve young ones were swimming round about with their beaks under it, helping to carry it. They swam to the shore and put the crown on the handkerchief. No one can imagine how magnificent the crown was. When the sun shone on it, it gleamed like a hundred thousand carbuncles. The tailor tied his handkerchief together by the four corners and carried it to the king, who was full of joy, and hung a gold chain around the tailor's neck. When the shoemaker saw that the one trick had failed, he contrived a second, and went to the king and said, 'Your majesty, the tailor has become insolent again. He boasts that he can copy in wax the whole of the royal palace, with everything that pertains to it, movable or immovable, inside and out.' The king sent for the tailor and ordered him to copy in wax the whole of the royal palace, with everything that pertained to it, movable or immovable, inside and out. And failing this, or if so much as one nail on the wall were missing, he should be imprisoned underground for the rest of his life. The tailor thought, 'It gets worse and worse. No one can endure this,' and he threw his bundle on his back, and went forth. When he came to the hollow tree, he sat down and hung his head. The bees came flying out, and the queen bee asked him if he had a stiff neck, since he hung his head so. 'Oh no,' answered the tailor, 'something quite different weighs me down,' and he told her what the king had demanded of him. The bees began to buzz and hum amongst themselves, and the queen bee said, 'Just go home again, but come back tomorrow at this time, and bring a large cloth with you, and then all will be well.' So he turned back again, but the bees flew to the royal palace and straight into it through the open windows, crept into every corner, and inspected everything most carefully. Then they hurried back and modeled the palace in wax so quickly that anyone looking on would have thought it was growing before his eyes. By the evening all was ready, and when the tailor came the next morning, the whole splendid building was there, and not one nail in the wall or tile on the roof was missing. And at the same time it was delicate and white as snow, and smelled sweet as honey. The tailor wrapped it carefully in his cloth and took it to the king, who could not admire it enough, placed it in his largest hall, and in return for it presented the tailor with a large stone house. The shoemaker, however, did not give up, but went for the third time to the king and said, 'Your majesty, the tailor has heard that no water will spring up in the castle's courtyard, but he has boasted that he can create a fountain in the middle of the courtyard as tall as a man and as clear as crystal.' Then the king ordered the tailor to be brought before him and said, 'If a stream of water does not rise in my courtyard by tomorrow as you have promised, in that very place the executioner shall make you shorter by a head.' The poor tailor did not take long to think about it, but hurried out to the gate, and because this time it was a matter of life and death to him, tears rolled down his face. While he was thus sorrowfully going forth, the foal to which he had formerly given its liberty, and which had now become a beautiful chestnut horse, came leaping towards him. 'The time has come,' it said to the tailor, 'when I can repay you for your good deed. I already know what you need, and you shall soon have help. Climb on; my back can carry two of you.' The tailor's courage came back to him. He jumped up in one bound, and the horse went full speed into the city, and immediately to the castle's courtyard. It galloped as quick as lightning three times around it, the third time falling down. At that instant there was a terrific clap of thunder, a fragment of earth in the middle of the courtyard sprang like a cannonball into the air and over the castle. Directly afterward a jet of water rose as high as a man on horseback, and the water was as pure as crystal, and the sunbeams began to dance on it. When the king saw this he arose in amazement, and went and embraced the tailor in the sight of all men. But good fortune did not last long. The king had daughters aplenty, each one more beautiful than the others, but he had no son. So the malicious shoemaker went to the king a fourth time, and said, 'Your majesty, the tailor has not given up his arrogance. He has now boasted that if he liked, he could cause a son to be brought to his majesty through the air.' The king summoned the tailor and said, 'If you cause a son to be brought to me within nine days, you shall have my eldest daughter to wife.' 'The reward is indeed great,' thought the little tailor. 'One would willingly do something for it, but the cherries grow too high for me. If I climb for them, the branch will break beneath me, and I shall fall.' He went home, seated himself cross-legged on his worktable, and thought over what was to be done. 'It can't be managed,' he cried at last. 'I will go away after all. I cannot live in peace here.' He tied up his bundle and hurried away to the gate. When he got to the meadow, he perceived his old friend the stork, who was walking backwards and forwards like a philosopher. Sometimes he stood still, looking closely at a frog, than finally swallowing it down. The stork came to him and greeted him. 'I see,' he began, 'that you have your pack on your back. Why are you leaving town?' The tailor told him what the king had required of him, and how he could not perform it, and lamented his misfortune. 'Don't let that turn your hair gray,' said the stork, 'I will help you out of your difficulty. For a long time now, I have been carrying infant children into the city, so this time, I can fetch a little prince out of the well. Go home and take it easy. Nine days from now go to the royal palace, and I will arrive there as well.' The little tailor went home, and at the appointed time was at the castle. Not long afterward the stork flew up and tapped at the window. The tailor opened it, and cousin longlegs came in carefully and walked with solemn steps over the smooth marble pavement. In his beak he had a baby that was as lovely as an angel, and who stretched out his little hands to the queen. The stork laid him in her lap, and she caressed him and kissed him, and was beside herself with delight. Before flying away, the stork took his traveling bag off his back and handed it to the queen. In it there were little paper parcels with colored sweets, and they were divided amongst the little princesses. The eldest, however, received none of them, but instead got the merry tailor for a husband. 'It seems to me,' he said, 'that I have won the highest prize. My mother was right after all. She always said that whoever trusts in God and has only good luck can never fail.' The shoemaker had to make the shoes in which the little tailor danced at the wedding festival, after which he was commanded to quit the town for ever. The road to the forest led him to the gallows. Worn out with anger, rage, and the heat of the day, he threw himself down. When he had closed his eyes and was about to sleep, the two crows flew down from the heads of the men who were hanging there and pecked his eyes out. In his madness he ran into the forest and must have died there of hunger, for no one has seen him or heard of him again. und Hausmärchen, no. 107.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
613,True and Untrue,Norway,"Link to this tale in the original Norwegian: Tro og Utro from the collection Norske Folkeeventyr by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe (first published in individual booklets 1841-44). St. John's Eve is evening of June 23, leading to Midsummer Day, June 24, is an assimilation of the summer solstice into popular Christian practice, and throughout northern Europe a time traditionally associated with witchcraft, elf-lore, and all manner of supernatural happenings.","Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), pp. 1-8.","Once upon a time there were two brothers; one was called True, and the other Untrue. True was always upright and good towards all, but Untrue was bad and full of lies, so that no one could believe what he said. Their mother was a widow, and did not have much to live on; so when her sons had grown up, she was forced to send them away, that they might earn their bread in the world. Each received a little knapsack with some food in it, and then they went their way. They walked until evening and then sat down by a windfall in the woods, and took out their knapsacks, for they were hungry after walking the whole day, and thought that a bit of food would taste good. 'I think that you'll agree with me,' said Untrue, 'that we should eat out of your knapsack as long as there is anything in it, and after that we can eat from mine.' Yes, True was in agreement with this, so they started to eat, but Untrue stuffed himself with all the best things, while True got only the burnt crusts. The next morning they had their breakfast from True's food, and they ate dinner from it too, and then there was nothing left in his knapsack. They had walked until late that night, and when they were ready to eat again, True wanted to eat out from his brother's knapsack, but Untrue said 'No,' that this food was his, and that he had only enough for himself. 'Wait! You know that you ate from my knapsack as long as there was anything in it,' said True. 'That is all well and good,' answered Untrue; 'but if you are such a fool to let others eat up your food right in front of you, then you must make the best of it. All you can do now is to sit here and starve.' 'Very well,' said True, 'you're Untrue by name and untrue by nature. You have always been that way, and so you will be all the rest of your life.' Now when Untrue heard this, he flew into a rage, rushed at his brother, and plucked out both of his eyes. 'Now, try to see whether people are untrue or not, you blind buzzard!' So saying, he ran away and left him. Poor True! There he went walking along and feeling his way through the thick wood. Blind and alone, he barely knew which way to turn, when all at once he caught hold of the trunk of a great bushy linden tree. He thought, for fear of the wild beasts, that he would climb the tree and sit there until the night was over. 'When the birds begin to sing,' he said to himself, 'I shall know it is day, and I can try to grope my way farther on.' So he climbed up into the linden tree. After he had sat there a little while, he heard how someone came and began to make a stir and clatter under the tree, and soon afterward others came. When they began to greet each other, he found out it was Bruin the bear, Graylegs the wolf, Slyboots the fox, and Longears the hare, all of whom had come to celebrate St. John's Eve under the tree. They began to eat, drink, and be merry. When they were finished eating, they started to talk together. At last the fox said, 'Let each of us tell a little story while we sit here.' The others had nothing against that. It would be good fun, they said, and the bear began; for he was the leader. 'The King of England,' said Bruin, 'has such bad eyesight, he can barely see a yard in front of him. If he would only come to this linden tree in the morning, while the dew is still on the leaves, and would rub his eyes with the dew, he would get back his sight as good as ever.' 'Very true!' said Graylegs. 'And the King of England has a daughter who is deaf and dumb. If he only knew what I know, he could soon cure her. Last year she went to communion. She let a crumb of the bread fall out of her mouth, and a large toad came and swallowed it down. If they would just dig up the chapel floor, they would find the toad sitting right under the altar, with the bread still sticking in his throat. If they were to cut the toad open, and give the bread to the princess, she would be able to hear and to speak again, just like other people.' 'That's all very well,' said the fox, 'but if the King of England knew what I know, he would not be so badly off for water in his palace. Under the large stone in his palace yard there is a spring of the clearest water one could wish for, if he only knew to dig for it there.' 'Ah!' said the hare in a small voice; 'the King of England has the finest orchard in the whole land, but it does not bear so much as a green apple, for a heavy gold chain is buried, circling the orchard three times. If he would have it dug up, there would not be a garden like it in all his kingdom.' 'Very true, I dare say,' said the fox, 'but now it's getting very late, and we should all go home.' So they all went away together. After they were gone, True fell asleep, sitting there in the tree. When the birds began to sing at dawn, he woke up, and took the dew from the leaves, and rubbed his eyes with it, and thus he got his sight back as good as it was before Untrue plucked his eyes out. Then he went straight to the King of England's palace, and begged for work, and got it on the spot. One day the king came out into the palace yard, and when he had walked about a bit, he wanted to drink out of his pump; for you must know the day was hot, and the king very thirsty; but when they poured him out a glass, it was so muddy, and nasty, and foul, that the king got quite upset. 'I don't think there's ever a man in my whole kingdom who has such bad water in his yard as I, and yet I bring it in pipes from far, over hill and dale,' cried out the king. 'True enough, your majesty;' said True, 'but if you would let me have some men to help me dig up this large stone which lies here in the middle of your yard, you would soon see good water, and plenty of it.' The king was willing enough. They barely had the stone out, and dug under it a while, before a jet of water sprang out high up into the air, as clear and full as if it came out of a conduit, and clearer water was not to be found in all England. A little while after, the king was out in his palace yard again, and there came a great hawk flying after his chicken, and all the king's men began to clap their hands and bawl out, 'There he flies! There he flies!' The king picked up his gun and tried to shoot the hawk, but he couldn't see that far, so he became very upset. 'Would to Heaven,' he said, 'there was anyone who could tell me a cure for my eyes; for I think I shall soon go quite blind!' 'I can tell you one soon enough,' said True, and he told the king what he had done to cure his own eyes. The king set off that very afternoon to the linden tree, and his eyes were quite cured as soon as he rubbed them with the dew which was on the leaves in the morning. From that time forth there was no one whom the king held so dear as True, and he had to be with him wherever he went, both at home and abroad. One day they were walking together in the orchard, and the king said, 'I don't know why, that I don't, but there isn't a man in England who spends as much on his orchard as I, and yet I can't get one of the trees to bear as much as a green apple.' 'Well,' said True, 'if I may have what is buried twisted three times around your orchard, and men to dig it up, your orchard will bear well enough.' Yes, the king was quite willing, so True got men and began to dig, and at last he dug up the whole gold chain. Now True was a rich man, far richer indeed than the king himself, but still the king was well pleased, for his orchard now bore so that the limbs of the trees hung down to the ground heavy with apples and pears sweeter than anyone had ever tasted. The king and True were walking about and talking together on another day, when the princess passed them, and the king became quite downcast when he saw her. 'Isn't it a pity, now, that so lovely a princess as mine should not be able to speak or hear?' he said to True. 'Yes, but there is a cure for that,' said True. When the king heard that, he was so glad that he promised him the princess's hand in marriage, and half his kingdom as well, if he could cure her. So True took a few men, and went into the church, and dug up the toad which sat under the altar. Then he cut open the toad, took out the bread, and gave it to the king's daughter; and from that hour she got back her speech, and could talk like other people. Now True was to have the princess, and they got ready for the bridal feast, and such a feast had never been seen before. It was the talk of the whole land. Just as they were dancing the bridal dance, in came a beggar lad, and begged for a morsel of food, and he was so ragged and wretched that they all crossed themselves when they looked at him. True knew him at once, and saw that it was Untrue, his brother. 'Do you recognize me?' asked True. 'Where would a person like me ever have seen so great a lord?' answered Untrue. 'You have seen me before,' said True. 'I was the one whose eyes you plucked out a year ago this very day. Untrue by name, and untrue by nature. I said it before, and I am saying it now. But you are still my brother, and so you shall have some food. After that, you may go to the linden tree where I sat last year. If you hear anything that can do you good, you will be lucky.' Untrue did not wait to be told twice. 'If True has got so much good by sitting in the linden tree, that in one year he has come to be king over half England, what good may I get?' he thought. So he set off and climbed up into the linden tree. He had not sat there long, before all the beasts came as before, and ate and drank, and celebrated St. John's eve under the tree. When they were finished eating, the fox wished that they should begin to tell stories. Untrue got ready to listen with all his might, until his ears almost fell off. But Bruin the bear was cross. He growled and said, 'Someone has been chattering about what we said last year, and so this time we will hold our tongues about what we know.' With that the beasts wished each other a good night, and parted. Untrue was just as wise as he was before, and the reason was, that his name was Untrue, and his nature untrue too. Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), pp. 1-8. Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe (first published in individual booklets 1841-44). St. John's Eve is evening of June 23, leading to Midsummer Day, June 24, is an assimilation of the summer solstice into popular Christian practice, and throughout northern Europe a time traditionally associated with witchcraft, elf-lore, and all manner of supernatural happenings.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,A Storyteller of Messer Azzolino,Italy,"Il Novellino: The Hundred Tales The Hundred Old Tales Azzolino or Ezzelino da Romano was born in 1194 and died in 1259. Similar episodes are contained in Cervantes' Don Quixote, part 1, chapter 20, and in the Disciplina Clericalis.",NA,"Messer Azzolino had a storyteller whom he made tell him tales during the long nights of winter. It happened that one night the storyteller had a great desire to sleep, while Azzolino urged him to tell tales. The storyteller began a tale of a countryman who had a hundred byzantines [ancient coins] of his own which he took with him to the market to buy sheep at the price of two per byzantine. Returning with his sheep he came to a river he had passed before much swollen with the rains which had recently fallen. Standing on the bank, he saw a poor fisherman with a boat, but of so small a size that there was only room for the countryman and one sheep at a time. Then the countryman began to cross over with one sheep, and he began to row. The river was wide. He rowed and passed over. And here the storyteller ceased his tale. Azzolino said, 'Go on!' And the storyteller replied, 'Let the sheep cross over, and then I will tell you the tale.' Since the sheep would not have crossed in a year, he could meanwhile sleep at his ease. (London: George Routledge and Sons, n.d.), no. 31, pp. 95-96. Antiche, or Novellino) were compiled by an anonymous writer (probably a court minstrel) toward the end of the thirteenth century. The collection was first published in 1525 as Le ciento novelle antike. 1259. 1, chapter 20, and in the Disciplina Clericalis.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,Mary Morey,USA,Type 2271.,"The Only True Mother Goose Melodies: An Exact Reproduction of the Text and Illustrations of the Original Edition Published and Copyrighted in Boston in the Year 1833 by Munroe and Francis (Boston: Lothrop, Lee, and Shepard Company, 1905), p. 28.","About Mary Morey, About her brother, And now my story's done.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Chest With Something Rare In It,Norway,"This tale combines elements of Type 2260 (the boy finds a chest and a key) with type 2251 (if the tail had been longer,...).","Peter Christian Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, Skrinet med det rare i, Norske Folkeeventyr.","Once upon a time a little boy was walking down a road. After he had gone a piece he found a chest. 'For sure there is something rare in this chest,' he said to himself. But however he examined it, he found no way to open it. 'That is very strange,' he thought. When he had gone on a piece he found a little key. So he stopped and sat down, and he thought it would be good if the key fit the chest, for there was a little keyhole in it. So he put the little key into his pocket. First he blew into the key's shaft. Then he blew into the keyhole. Then he put the key into the keyhole and turned it around. 'Snap!' went the lock. And then he took hold of the lock, and the chest opened. And can you guess what was in the chest? -- It was a calf's tail. And if the calf's tail had been longer, this tale would have been longer as well. det rare i, Norske Folkeeventyr. finds a chest and a key) with type 2251 (if the tail had been longer,...).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Endless Tale,England (Nottinghamshire),Type 2301.,"Sidney Oldall Addy, Household Tales with Other Traditional Remains: Collected in the Counties of York, Lincoln, Derby, and Nottingham (London: David Nutt, 1895), no. 14, p. 15.","Once upon a time there was a king who had a very beautiful daughter. Many princes wished to marry her, but the king said she should marry the one who could tell him an endless tale, and those lovers that could not tell an endless tale should be beheaded. Many young men came, and tried to tell such a story, but they could not tell it, and were beheaded. But one day a poor man who had heard of what the king had said came to the court and said he would try his luck. The king agreed, and the poor man began his tale in this way: 'There was once a man who built a barn that covered many acres, and that reached almost to the sky. He left just one little hole in the top, through which there was only room for one locust to creep in at a time, and then he filled the barn full of corn to the very top. When he had filled the barn there came a locust through the hole in the top and fetched one grain of corn, and then another locust came and fetched another grain of corn.' And so the poor man went on saying, 'Then another locust came and fetched another grain of corn,' for a long time, so that in the end the king grew very weary, and said the tale was endless, and told the poor man he might marry his daughter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Golden Key,Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm,"This story was added to the Grimms' collection as no. 161 (the final tale) of their second edition (1819). Their immediate source was a Hessian story told to them by family friend Marie Hassenpflug. From the second edition onward this story has occupied the last position in the collection (excluding the appendix of ten Children's Legends). By closing their collection with this enigmatic tale without an end, the Grimms seem to be saying that folktales, too, are endless. There is no final word. Type 2260.","Der goldene Schlüssel, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, no. 200.","Once in the wintertime when the snow was very deep, a poor boy had to go out and fetch wood on a sled. After he had gathered it together and loaded it, he did not want to go straight home, because he was so frozen, but instead to make a fire and warm himself a little first. So he scraped the snow away, and while he was thus clearing the ground he found a small golden key. Now he believed that where there was a key, there must also be a lock, so he dug in the ground and found a little iron chest. 'If only the key fits!' he thought. 'Certainly there are valuable things in the chest.' He looked, but there was no keyhole. Finally he found one, but so small that it could scarcely be seen. He tried the key, and fortunately it fitted. Then he turned it once, and now we must wait until he has finished unlocking it and has opened the lid. Then we shall find out what kind of wonderful things there were in the little chest. tale) of their second edition (1819). Their immediate source was a Hessian story told to them by family friend Marie Hassenpflug. From the second edition onward this story has occupied the last position in the collection (excluding the appendix of ten Children's Legends). By closing their collection with this enigmatic tale without an end, the Grimms seem to be saying that folktales, too, are endless. There is no final word.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The King and His Storyteller,"Petruse Alphonsi, Disciplina Clericalis","Type 2300. Petrus Alphonsi (also spelled Alfonsi) was born a Jew in Muslim Spain in the eleventh century. He converted to Christianity and was baptized in 1106. His principal work, the Disciplina Clericalis (Training School for the Clergy), comprised thirty-three tales from Oriental sources, plus commentary.","Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), p. 155.","A certain king had a storyteller who told him five stories every night. It happened once that the king, oppressed by cares of state, was unable to sleep, and asked for more than the usual number of stories. The storyteller related three short ones. The king wished for more still, and when the story-teller demurred, said, 'You have told me several very short ones. I want something long, and then you may go to sleep.' The storyteller yielded, and began thus: 'Once upon a time there was a certain countryman who went to market and bought two thousand sheep. On his way home a great inundation took place, so that he was unable to cross a certain river by the ford or bridge. After anxiously seeking some means of getting across with his flock, he found at length a little boat in which he could convey two sheep over.' After the storyteller had got thus far he went to sleep. The king roused him and ordered him to finish the story he had begun. The storyteller answered, 'The flood is great, the boat small, and the flock innumerable; let the aforesaid countryman get his sheep over, and I will finish the story I have begun.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Little Story,Poland,"This tale combines elements of type 2260 (the boy finds a chest and a key) with type 2251 (if the tale had been longer,...).","Otto Knoop, 'Die kleine Geschichte,' Ostmärkische Sagen, Märchen und Erzählungen (Lissa: Oskar Eulitz' Verlag, 1909), no. 90, p. 193.","A peasant plowed once around, and he found nothing at all. Then he plowed around again, and he found a chest. Then he plowed around once again, and he found a key to the chest. He opened the chest and found nothing but mouse tails in it. And if the mouse tails had been longer, my story would have been longer. Sagen, Märchen und Erzählungen (Lissa: Oskar Eulitz' Verlag, 1909), no. 90, p. 193. with type 2251 (if the tale had been longer,...).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Narrow Bridge,Germany,"Meier's source: 'Oral, from Bühl.' Type 2300.","Ernst Meier, 'Die schmale Brücke,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 90, p. 297.","Once upon a time there was a shepherd who had a large, large herd of sheep which he was moving over hill and dale, far out into the world. They came to a deep body of water, over which there was fortunately a bridge. However, the bridge was tiny and narrow, so that only a single sheep could go across it. And another sheep could not even step onto the bridge until the sheep in front was all the way across, or the bridge certainly would have broken. Just think how long it will take until all of the many, many sheep have crossed over. So, you see, we must wait until they are all on the other side with the shepherd, and that will take a while yet, and then I will continue with my story about the shepherd and his large, large herd of sheep. (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 90, p. 297.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Shepherd,Italy,Type 2300.,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 40, p. 156.","Once upon a time there was a shepherd who went to feed his sheep in the fields, and he had to cross a stream, and he took the sheep up one by one to carry them over.... What then? Go on! When the sheep are over, I will finish the story.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Story That Never Ends,Czechoslovakia,"Czechoslovakia existed as a sovereign state from 1918, when it separated from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, until January 1, 1993, when it divided into the Czech Republic and the Slovak Republic.","Parker Fillmore, Czechoslovak Fairy Tales (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1919), p. 243.","(To be told very seriously) Once upon a time there was a shepherd who had a great flock of sheep. He used to pasture them in a meadow on the other side of a brook. One day the sun had already set before he started home. Recent rains had swollen the brook so that he and the sheep had to cross on a little footbridge. The bridge was so narrow that the sheep had to pass over one by one. Now we'll wait until he drives them all over. Then I'll go on with my story. (When children grow impatient and beg for a continuation of the story, they are told that there are many sheep and that up to this time only a few have crossed. A little later when their impatience again breaks out, they are told that the sheep are still crossing. And so on, indefinitely. In conclusion:) In fact there were so many sheep that when morning came they were still crossing, and then it was time for the shepherd to turn around and drive them back again to pasture!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Tail,Scotland,"Campbell's source: 'Told about thirty years ago by John Campbell, piper, to his pupil, J. F. Campbell.' Type 2251.","J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands: Orally Collected, vol. 2 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1860), no. 57, p. 477.","There was a shepherd once who went out to the hill to look after his sheep. It was misty and cold, and he had much trouble to find them. At last he had them all but one; and after much searching he found that one too in a peat hag [bog] half drowned. So he took off his plaid, and bent down and took hold of the sheep's tail, and he pulled! The sheep was heavy with water, and he could not lift her, so he took off his coat, and he pulled!! But it was too much for him, and he spit on his hands, and took a good hold of the tail and he PULLED!! And the tail broke! And if it had not been for that, this tale would have been a great deal longer. (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1860), no. 57, p. 477. piper, to his pupil, J. F. Campbell.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
2250,The Treasure,Italy,Type 2300.,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 39, p. 156.","But to get it out it was necessary that ten million million ants should cross one by one the river Gianquadara (let us suppose it was that one) in a bark made of the half shell of a nut. The prince puts the bark in the river and begins to make the ants pass over. One, two, three, and he is still doing it. Here the person who is telling the story pauses and says, 'We will finish this story when the ants have finished passing over.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,Buttadeu,Italy,"This story was reported by the daughter of a certain Antonino Caseio, a peasant of Salaparuta. The name Buttadeu comes from buttari, to thrust away, and deu, God; or, in popular terms, 'the Jew who repulsed Jesus Christ.'","Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 59, pp. 197-98.","It was in winter, and my good father was at Sacalone, in the warehouse, warming himself at the fire, when he saw a man enter, dressed differently from the people of that region, with breeches striped in yellow, red, and black, and his cap the same way. My good father was frightened. 'Oh!' he said, 'what is this person?' 'Do not be afraid,' the man said. 'I am called Buttadeu.' 'Oh!' said my father, 'I have heard you mentioned. Be pleased to sit down a while a tell me something.' 'I cannot sit, for I am condemned by my God always to walk.' And while he was speaking he was always walking up and down and had no rest. Then he said: 'Listen. I am going away; I leave you, in memory of me, this, that you must say a credo at the right hand of our Lord, and five other credos at his left, and a salve regina to the Virgin, for the grief I suffer on account of her son. I salute you.' 'Farewell.' 'Farewell, my name is Buttadeu.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,Malchus at the Column,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 58, p. 197.","Malchus was the head of the Jews who killed our Lord. The Lord pardoned them all, and likewise the good thief, but he never pardoned Malchus, because it was he who gave the Madonna a blow. He is confined under a mountain, and condemned to walk around a column, without resting, as long as the world lasts. Every time that he walks about the column he gives it a blow in memory of the blow he gave the mother of our Lord. He has walked around the column so long that he has sunk into the ground. He is now up to his neck. When he is under, head and all, the world will come to an end, and God will then send him to the place prepared for him. He asks all those who go to see him (for there are such) whether children are yet born; and when they say yes, he gives a deep sigh and resumes his walk, saying: 'The time is not yet!' for before the world comes to an end there will be no children born for seven years.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,Of the Jew Joseph Who Is Still Alive Awaiting the Last Coming of Christ,Roger of Wendover,The English chronicler Roger of Wendover died in 1236.,"Source (books.google.com): Roger of Wendover's Flowers of History: Comprising the History of England from the Descent of the Saxons to A.D. 1235, formerly ascribed to Matthew Paris. Translated from the Latin by J. A. Giles. Vol. 2 (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1849), pp. 512-514. Source (Internet Archive): Roger of Wendover's Flowers of History: Comprising the History of England from the Descent of the Saxons to A.D. 1235, formerly ascribed to Matthew Paris. Translated from the Latin by J. A. Giles. Vol. 2 (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1849), pp. 512-514.","In this year [1228] a certain archbishop of Armenia Major came on a pilgrimage to England to see the relics of the saints, and visit the sacred places in this kingdom, as he had done in others; he also produced letters of recommendation from his holiness the pope to the religious men and prelates of the churches, in which they were enjoined to receive and entertain him with due reverence and honour. On his arrival he went to St. Alban's, where he was received with all respect by the abbat and monks; at this place, being fatigued with his journey, he remained some days to rest himself and his followers, and a conversation was commenced between him and the inhabitants of the convent by means of their interpreters, during which he made many inquiries concerning the religion and religious observances of this country, and related many strange things concerning eastern countries. In the course of conversation he was asked whether he had ever seen or heard anything of Joseph, a man of whom there was much talk in the world, who, when our Lord suffered, was present and spoke to him, and who is still alive in evidence of the Christian faith, in reply to which a knight in his retinue, who was his interpreter, replied, speaking in French, 'My lord well knows that man, and a little before he took his way to the western countries the said Joseph ate at the table of my lord the archbishop in Armenia, and he had often seen and held converse with him.' He was then asked about what had passed between Christ and the same Joseph, to which he replied: At the time of the suffering of Jesus Christ, he was seized by the Jews and led into the hall of judgment, before Pilate the governor, that he might be judged by him on the accusation of the Jews, and Pilate finding no cause for adjudging him to death, said to them, 'Take him and judge him according to your law.' The shouts of the Jews, however, increasing, he, at their request, released unto them Barabbas, and delivered Jesus to them to be crucified. When therefore the Jews were dragging Jesus forth, and had reached the door, Cartaphilus, a porter of the hall in Pilate's service, as Jesus was going out of the door, impiously struck him on the back with his hand, and said in mockery, 'Go quicker, Jesus, go quicker, why do you loiter?' And Jesus looking back on him with a severe countenance said to him, 'I am going, and you will wait till I return.' And according as our Lord said, this Cartaphilus is still awaiting his return; at the time of our Lord's suffering he was thirty years old, and when he attains the age of a hundred years, he always returns to the same age as he was when our Lord suffered. After Christ's death, when the Catholic faith gained ground, this Cartaphilus was baptized by Ananias (who also baptized the apostle Paul), and was called Joseph. He often dwells in both divisions of Armenia, and other eastern countries, passing his time amidst the bishops and other prelates of the church. He is a man of holy conversation and religious, a man of few words and circumspect in his behaviour, for he does not speak at all unless when questioned by the bishops and religious men; and then he tells of the events of old times, and of the events which occurred at the suffering and resurrection of our Lord, and of the witnesses of the resurrection, namely those who rose with Christ, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto men; he also tells of the creed of the apostles, and of their separation and preaching; and all this he relates without smiling or levity of conversation, as one who is well practised in sorrow and the fear of God, always looking forward with fear to the coming of Jesus Christ, lest at the last judgment he should find him in anger, whom, when on his way to death, he had provoked to just vengeance. Numbers come to him from different parts of the world, enjoying his society and conversation, and to them, if they are men of authority, he explains all doubts on the matters on which he is questioned. He refuses all gifts that are offered to him, being content with slight food and clothing. He places his hope of salvation on the fact that he sinned through ignorance, for the Lord when suffering prayed for his enemies in these words, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,Shoemakers Are a Poor Slobbering Race,England,NA,"William Henderson, Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders, a new edition with many additional notes (London: Published for the Folk-Lore Society by W. Satchell, Peyton, and Company, 1879), p. 82.","An old woman of the North Riding once asked a friend of mine whether it was wrong to wash on Good Friday. 'I used to do so,' she said, 'and thought no harm of it, till once, when I was hanging out my clothes, a young woman passed by (a dressmaker she was, and a Methodist); and she reproved me, and told me this story. While our Lord Jesus was being led to Calvary they took Him past a woman who was washing, and the woman 'blirted' the thing she was washing in His face; on which He said, 'Cursed be every one who hereafter shall wash on this day!' 'And never again,' added the old woman, 'have I washed on Good Friday.' Now it is said in Cleveland that clothes washed and hung out to dry on Good Friday will become spotted with blood; but the Methodist girl's wild legend reminds me more of one which a relation of mine elicited from a poor Devonshire shoemaker. She was remonstrating with him for his indolence and want of spirit, when he astonished her by replying, 'Dont'ee be hard on me. We shoemakers are a poor slobbering race, and so have been ever since the curse that Jesus Christ laid on us.' 'And what was that?' she asked. 'Why,' said he, 'when they were carrying Him to the cross they passed a shoemaker's bench, and the man looked up and spat at Him; and the Lord turned and said, 'A poor slobbering fellow shalt thou be, and all shoemakers after thee, for what thou hast done to Me.'' Footnote: This curse is suggested, I presume, by the legend of the Wandering Jew; Cartaphilus or Ahasuerns, whichever was his name, having been a shoemaker, and cursed, it is said, by Our Lord, for refusing to allow Him to rest on the doorstep of his shop. -- S. B. G. [Sabine Baring-Gould]",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Eternal Jew,Belgium,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Johann Wilhelm Wolf, 'Der ewige Jude,' Niederländische Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1843), no. 534, p. 625. Source (Internet Archive): Johann Wilhelm Wolf, 'Der ewige Jude' Niederländische Sagen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1843), no. 534, p. 625.","In about 1640 two citizens of Brussels who lived in the Rue des Tanneurs saw a grey, old man in the Sonian Forest. His clothing was in terrible condition, and of an ancient style. They invited him to go into a tavern with them, and he did so. However, he did not sit down, but rather drank while standing on his feet. When they were about to leave, he had much to say to them, mostly about things that had happened many centuries earlier. From this the two citizens realized that their companion was Isaac Laquedem, the Jew who had sent our Lord away from his door, and they departed from him in great fear.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Eternal Jew in Vogtland,Germany / Czech Republic,"Vogtland is a historical region in present-day eastern Germany and the western Czech Republic. According to legend, the crossbill finch damaged its beak trying to pull the nails from Jesus on the cross.","Source (books.google.com): Johann August Ernst Köhler, 'Der ewige Jude im Voigtlande,' Volksbrauch, Aberglauben, Sagen und andre alte Ueberlieferungen im Voigtlande (Leipzig: Verlag von Fr. Fleischer, 1867), no. 186, p. 568. Source (Internet Archive): Johann August Ernst Köhler, 'Der ewige Jude im Voigtlande,' Volksbrauch, Aberglauben, Sagen und andre alte Ueberlieferungen im Voigtlande (Leipzig: Verlag von Fr. Fleischer, 1867), no. 186, p. 568.","The Eternal Jew was once seen on a cloudy day in the Schildbach Forest. He was tall and sinister looking with an ice-gray beard and hair. He was wrapped in a grayish-brown, tattered cloak which almost covered his sinister-looking and deeply furrowed face. With a rough and foreign-sounding voice he asked an old birdcatcher about this and that: about families and villages that were no longer there, but that according to legend had existed in earlier centuries. Then he pointed out some unknown qualities of birds that were hanging there, as well as some healing herbs that grew just outside of the forest hut. With all this, however, he kept a good distance from the crossbill finch. The old birdcatcher grew uneasy about his guest. When he asked how a good Christian could know all of these things, the stranger stood up and walked away without saying anything. Looking after the departing stranger, the birdcatcher noticed from his tracks that each of his soles was imbedded with five large-headed nails forming the shape of a cross. Thus with every step the wanderer struck this holy symbol into the ground. Then the birdcatcher knew who this ancient wanderer was, and how he knew all about the region from many centuries ago.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Eternal Jew on the Matterhorn,Switzerland,"Translated by D. L. Ashliman. The Grimms' source: 'Oral, from Oberwallis.'","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der ewige Jud auf dem Matterhorn,' Deutsche Sagen, vol. 1 (Berlin: in der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 343, pp. 443-44. In later editions this legend is numbered 344.","Mount Matter beneath the Matterhorn in Valais is a high glacier from which the Vispa River flows. According to popular legend, an imposing city existed there ages ago. The Wandering Jew (as many Swiss call the Eternal Jew) came there once and said: 'When I pass this way a second time there will be nothing but trees and rocks where you now see houses and streets. And when my path leads me here a third time, there will be nothing but snow and ice.' And now nothing can be seen there but snow and ice.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,"The Jerusalem Shoemaker, or Wandering Jew, in Jutland",Denmark,"Thorpe's source: J. M. Thiele, 'Jerusalems Skomager i Jylland,' Danmarks Folkesagn, vol. 2 (Copenhagen: Universitetsboghandler C. A. Reitzels Forlag, 1843), pp. 311-13. Comment by Thorpe: 'The story of the shoemaker of Jerusalem is generally known. When Jesus passed by his house, bending under the weight of the cross, he would rest an instant at his door; but the miscreant came out, and with imprecations drove the Savior away, for the sake of gaining the favor of his enemies. The shoemaker, whose name was Ahasuerus, then drew on himself the curse ever to be a wanderer and never to find rest until doomsday.'","Benjamin Thorpe, Northern Mythology, Comprising the Principal Popular Traditions and Superstitions of Scandinavia, North Germany, and the Netherlands, vol. 2 (London: Edward Lumley, 1851), pp. 212-13.","It is now very long since there was seen in Jutland a man mean and lowly in his garments, riding on a little white horse, with stirrups made of wood. When any one asked him whence he came and whither he was directing his course, he was wont to answer: 'From Vendsyssel over Himmelsyssel southwards.' He foretold, and said of a stone in Mae: 'A thorn shall grow through the fissure in the stone, and in the thorn a magpie shall build her nest, hatch her young, and afterwards fly away with them.' And this came to pass as he had said. He further foretold that when the magpie was flown, there should be a great battle in Vendsyssel, and the greater part of the people perish. Afterwards the women should acquire the courage and heart of men and slay the enemy. But when he was asked what further should happen, he answered: 'Let the end follow.' In Aalborg he foretold something to the town magistrate, which did not particularly please him, and for which he caused him to be scourged. He then foretold again, that like as his blood was running down his back, so should the magistrate's blood run over the streets of Aalborg. And it happened as he had said; for in a quarrel which arose in the town, the townsmen slew the magistrate in the street. Of Haseriisaa, which at that time did not flow through Aalborg, he foretold that a time should come when it should run through the town; which also took place as he had predicted. Coming one day to Bolstrup, and having according to his custom taken up his quarters in a kiln, he rode the next day to the public assembly (Ting), where the judge of the district asked him: 'How will it fare with me?' and got for answer: 'Thou shalt die in a kiln.' Nor did he fare better; for coming to poverty, he had at last no other place of shelter. Once when some boys scoffed at him, and one among them threw a cask stave after him, he said, that a stave should be the boy's death; and the same boy, some time after, fell from a tree and struck a stave into his body. Of alms he accepted only so much as he required for the moment, and thus traveled from place to place.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Lost Jew,Germany,Translated by D. L. Ashliman.,"Karl Gander, 'Der verlorene Jude,' Niederlausitzer Volkssagen, vornehmlich aus dem Stadt- und Landkreis Guben (Berlin: Deutsche Schriftsteller-Genossenschaft, 1894), no. 41, pp. 14-15.","Eighty-one year old Frau Bandow from Fünfeichen narrated: This answer only strengthened the woman's opinion, which was further verified through an innkeeper's wife from a neighboring village, where the Jew had stayed overnight. She reported that he had eaten nothing and that he had not slept. She had prepared a place for him to lie down, but he paced back and forth in the sitting room the entire night. Even in her old age, the woman who told this story took great pleasure that she had had the good fortune to have seen the lost Jew.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Mysterious Stranger,England,"Although the mysterious stranger in this account is not identified as the 'Wandering Jew,' this legend does show similarities to other stories in this group.","John Aubrey, Miscellanies upon Various Subjects, 5th edition (London: Reeves and Turner, 1890), pp. 83-84.","At _ _in the Moorlands in Staffordshire, lived a poor old man, who had been a long time lame. One Sunday, in the afternoon, he being alone, one knocked at his door; he bade him open it, and come in. The stranger desired a cup of beer; the lame man desired him to take a dish and draw some, for he was not able to do it himself. The stranger asked the poor old man how long he had been ill. The poor man told him. Said the stranger, 'I can cure you. Take two or three balm leaves steeped in your beer for a fortnight or three weeks, and you will be restored to your health; but constantly and zealously serve God.' The poor man did so, and became perfectly well. This stranger was in a purple-shag gown, such as was not seen or known in those parts. And nobody in the street after evensong did see any one in such a colored habit. Doctor Gilbert Sheldon, since Archbishop of Canterbury, was then in the Moorlands, and justified the truth of this to Elias Ashmole, Esq., from whom I had this account, and he hath inserted it in some of his memoirs, which are in the [Ashmolean] Museum at Oxford.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Story of Judas,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 56, pp. 195-96.","You must know that Judas was the one who betrayed Jesus Christ. Now when Judas betrayed him, his Master said: 'Repent, Judas, for I pardon you.' But Judas, not at all! He departed with his bag of money, in despair and cursing heaven and earth. What did he do? While he was going along thus desperate he came across a tamarind tree. (You must know that the tamarind was formerly a large tree, like the olive and walnut.) When he saw this tamarind a wild thought entered his mind, remembering the treason he had committed. He made a noose in a rope and hung himself to the tamarind. And hence it is (because this traitor Judas was cursed by God) that the tamarind tree dried up, and from that time on it ceased growing up into a tree and became a short, twisted, and tangled bush; and its wood is good for nothing, neither to burn, nor to make anything out of, and all on account of Judas, who hanged himself on it. Some say that the soul of Judas went to the lowest hell, to suffer the most painful torments; but I have heard, from older persons who can know, that Judas's soul has a severer sentence. They say that it is in the air, always wandering about the world, without being able to rise higher or fall lower; and every day, on all the tamarind shrubs that it meets, it sees its body hanging and torn by the dogs and birds of prey. They say that the pain he suffers cannot be told, and that it makes the flesh creep to think of it. And thus Jesus Christ condemned him for his great treason.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Wandering Jew (Reliques),England/Germany,This collection was first published in 1765.,"Thomas Percy, Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. 2 (Edinburgh: James Nichol, 1858), book 2, no. 3, pp. 236-42.","The archbishop answered, that the fact was true. And afterwards one of his train, who was well known to a servant of the abbot's, interpreting his master's words, told them in French, that his lord knew the person they spoke of very well: that he had dined at his table but a little while before he left the East: that he had been Pontius Pilate's porter, by name Cartaphilus; who, when they were dragging Jesus out of the door of the Judgment-hall, struck him with his fist on the back, saying, 'Go faster, Jesus, go faster; why dost thou linger?' Upon which Jesus looked at him with a frown and said, 'I indeed am going, but thou shalt tarry till I come.' Soon after he was converted, and baptized by the name of Joseph. He lives for ever, but at the end of every hundred years falls into an incurable illness, and at length into a fit or ecstasy, out of which when he recovers, he returns to the same state of youth he was in when Jesus suffered, being then about 30 years of age. He remembers all the circumstances of the death and resurrection of Christ, the saints that arose with him, the composing of the Apostles' creed, their preaching, and dispersion; and is himself a very grave and holy person. This is the substance of Matthew Paris's account, who was himself a monk of St. Albans, and was living at the time when this Armenian archbishop made the above relation. Since his time several impostors have appeared at intervals under the name and character of the Wandering Jew; whose several histories may be seen in Calmet's dictionary of the Bible. See also The Turkish Spy, vol. II. book 3, let. 1. The story that is copied in the following ballad is of one, who appeared at Hamburg in 1547, and pretended he had been a Jewish shoemaker at the time of Christ's crucifixion. The ballad however seems to be of later date. It is preserved in black-letter in the Pepys collection. When they had crown'd his head with thornes, And scourg'd him to disgrace, In scornfull sort they led him forthe Unto his dying place; Where thousand thousands in the streete Beheld him passe along, Yet not one gentle heart was there, That pityed this his wrong. Both old and young reviled him, As in the streete he wente, And nought he found but churlish tauntes, By every ones consente: His owne deare crosse he bore himselfe, A burthen far too great, Which made him in the street to fainte, With blood and water sweat. Being weary thus, he sought for rest, To ease his burthened soule, Upon a stone; the which a wretch Did churlishly controule; And sayd, 'Awaye, thou king of Jewes, Thou shalt not rest thee here; Pass on; thy execution place Thou seest nowe draweth neare.' And thereupon he thrust him thence; At which our Saviour sayd, I sure will rest, but thou shalt walke, And have no journey stayed.' With that this cursed shoemaker, For offering Christ this wrong, Left wife and children, house and all, And went from thence along. Where after he had seene the bloude Of Jesus Christ thus shed, And to the crosse his bodye nail'd, Awaye with speed he fled Without returning backe againe Unto his dwelling place, And wandred up and downe the worlde, A runnagate most base. No resting could he finde at all, No ease, nor hearts content; Bo No house, nor home, nor biding place: But wandring forth he went From towne to towne in foreigne landes, With grieved conscience still, Repenting for the heinous guilt Of his fore-passed ill. Thus after some fewe ages past In wandring up and downe; He much again desired to see Jerusalems renowne, But finding it all quite destroyd, He wandred thence with woe, Our Saviour's wordes, which he had spoke, To verifie and showe. 'I'll rest,' sayd hee, 'but thou shalt walke, So doth this wandring Jew From place to place, but cannot rest For seeing countries newe; Declaring still the power of him, Whereas he comes or goes, And of all things done in the east, Since Christ his death, he showes. The world he hath still compast round And seene those nations strange, That hearing of the name of Christ, Their idol gods doe change: To whom he hath told wondrous thinges Of time forepast, and gone, And to the princes of the worlde Declares his cause of moane: Desiring still to be dissolved, And yeild his mortal breath; But, if the Lord hath thus decreed, He shall not yet see death. For neither lookes he old nor young, But as he did those times, When Christ did suffer on the crosse For mortall sinners crimes. He hath past through many a foreigne place, Arabia, Egypt, Africa, Grecia, Syria, and great Thrace, And throughout all Hungaria; Where Paul and Peter preached Christ, Those blest apostles deare; There he hath told our Saviours wordes, In countries far, and neare. And lately in Bohemia, With many a German towne; And now in Flanders, as tis thought, He wandreth up and downe: Where learned men with him conferre Of those his lingering dayes, And wonder much to heare him tell His journeyes, and his wayes. If people give this Jew an almes, The most that he will take Is not above a groat a time: Which he, for Jesus' sake, Will kindlye give unto the poore, And thereof make no spare, Affirming still that Jesus Christ Of him hath dailye care. He ne'er was seene to laugh nor smile, But weepe and make great moane; Lamenting still his miseries, And dayes forepast and gone: If he heare any one blaspheme, Or take God's name in vaine, He telles them that they crucifie Their Saviour Christe againe. 'If you had seene his death,' saith he, 'As these mine eyes have done, Ten thousand thousand times would yee His torments think upon: And suffer for his sake all paine Of torments, and all woes.' These are his wordes and eke his life Whereas he comes or goes.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Wandering Jew (Scudder),Retold by Horace E. Scudder,NA,"Horace E. Scudder, The Book of Legends: Told Over Again (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1899), pp. 28-30.","One of these who looked on was a shoemaker, Ahasuerus by name. He did not believe in Christ. He had been present when Pilate pronounced the sentence of death, and, knowing that Christ would be dragged past his house, he ran home and called his household to see this person, who, he said, had been deceiving the Jews. Ahasuerus stood in the doorway, holding his little child on his arm. Presently the crowd came by and Jesus in the midst, bearing his cross. The load was heavy, and Jesus stood a moment, as if he would rest in the doorway. But the Jew, willing to gain favor with the crowd, roughly bade him go forward. Jesus obeyed, but, as he moved away, he turned and looked on the shoemaker and said: 'I shall at last rest, but thou shalt go on till the last day.' Ahasuerus heard him. Stirred by some im pulse, he knew not what, he set his child down, and followed the crowd to the place of crucifixion. There he stayed till the end. And when the people turned back, he turned back with them, and went to his house, but not to stay. He bade his wife and children farewell. 'Go on!' a voice said to him, and on that day he began his wanderings. Years afterward he came back, but Jerusalem was a heap of ruins. The city had been destroyed, and he knew that his wife and children had long since been dead. 'Go on!' he heard, and he wandered forth, begging his way from house to house, from town to town, from one country to another. He wandered from Judaea to Greece, from Greece to Rome. He grew old, and his face was like leather, but his eyes were bright, and he never lost his vigor. He went through storms and the cold of winter, he endured the dry heat of summer, but no sickness overtook him. He joined armies that were going forth to battle, but death never came his way, though men fell by his side. He was never seen to laugh. Now and then, some learned man would draw him into talk, not knowing who he was, and would find him familiar with great events in history. It was not as if he had learned these in books. He talked as if he himself had been present. Then the learned man would shake his head, and say to himself, 'Poor man, he is mad,' and only after the old wanderer had left would the thought suddenly come, 'Why, that must have been the Wandering Jew.' Where is he now? No one knows. Wandering, weary, he moves from place to place. Sometimes he is driven off by the people, he looks so uncanny. When war breaks out, he says to himself, 'Perhaps now at last the end of the world is coming.' But though wars have lasted a hundred years, they cease at last, and still the Wandering Jew goes on, on.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,"The Wandering Jew in Harts Corners, New York",USA,NA,"The Deseret News (Salt Lake City, September 23, 1868).","Now an ordinary wandering Jew would not be at all likely to create any surprise, seeing that they are to be met with in every quarter; but the case would be quite contrary -- even in a community of beer and tobacco loving Dutchmen, the very embodiment of all that is imperturbable, if the genuine Ahaseurus -- condemned by the Great Teacher to walk the earth until the day of judgment -- were to make his appearance in their midst. So nobody can wonder at the excitement displayed by the people of Harts Corners on the appearance of this very notorious and venerable character in their midst! The discovery was made under the following circumstances: On the 2nd instant, as two little boys were going a fishing, their attention was arrested by deep groans, which seemed to emanate from an old shanty they passed on their way. The boys entered the shanty and there beheld a venerable looking individual with a long white beard, dressed in black flowing garments, seated in one corner, apparently in pain. They manifested a desire to assist him, but were frightened off by the old fellow lifting his staff in a threatening manner. The youngsters retreated and soon returned with a number of the villagers, who, on entering the shanty saw an individual with a large hooked nose, larger ears, and finger nails about an inch long -- there was no tail, visible at least. They asked what ailed him, and he replied that he had fallen on a stone and severely hurt his leg. In the course of conversation he also informed them he had no home, and that his last friend had departed this life long before the light of heaven illumined the soul of any amongst them, and that the voice of the only one he loved was silent in the tomb before printing was invented, or America had ever echoed to the cry of liberty. Exclamations of 'cracked' escaped several of the crowd, which aroused the indignation of the Jew, who asked them why they came there if they did not believe him. They replied they came because they had heard there was a man in trouble and they wished to assist him. To this he replied 'man can not and Heaven will not.' He then gave a short account of his recent travels from Siberia to America via Behrings Straits, through the wilds of Alaska, etc., saying the first kind word he had heard during the whole journey was from the party whom he was then addressing. He then bade them adieu and departed. In his hasty departure on this occasion as he is said to have done on many others, he left a memento by which his identity was fully proven. This time it was an old volume of extracts from the Babylonion Talmud, in the Hebrew character. On a fly leaf was a short account of his birth, parentage, the sentence of the Savior and his subsequent wanderings, all clearly proving that he was the identical bona fide Wandering Jew. This remarkable book, proving the identity of poor Ahaseurus, is now in the possession of one Michael O'Grady, a switch tender and farmer living a short distance from the place where the Jew was discovered. By applying to him, any one sufficiently interested may doubtless obtain further details in relation to this -- the very 'last sensation;' of course they may!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Wandering Jew in New York City,USA,NA,"The Deseret News (Salt Lake City, June 10, 1857).","A sensation was created in William street, on Thursday morning, by the appearance of a man on the pave with a long floating beard, and dressed in loose pantaloons, with a turban on his head. He carried in his hand a little manuscript Hebrew book, out of which he read to the crowd which gathered around him. He represented himself as the veritable Wandering Jew. Nobody knows who he is or where he came from. A learned Jewish rabbi was sent to converse with him, which they did in the Hebrew language, and the stranger was found to be perfect in his knowledge of that most difficult tongue. The Rabbi tested him in the Arabic, the Phenician, and in the Sanscrit, but soon found that the aged stranger far surpassed him in intimacy with them all. The Rabbi invited him to his house; but, said the stranger, 'nay, I cannot stop. The Crucified of Calvary has pronounced the edict, and I must not rest. I must move on -- ever on!' He was last seen on Thursday, but to where he has departed no one can tell.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,The Wandering Jew on the Grimsel Pass,Switzerland,NA,"H. A. Guerber, Legends of Switzerland (New York: Dodd, Mead, and Company, 1905), pp. 126-31.","A legend claims that in olden times this region blossomed like the rose, and that the highest mountains were as fertile as any valley nestling in a sheltered location at their foot. When Our Lord bade the Wandering Jew [footnote: See the author's Legends of the Virgin and Christ.] begin the never-ending journey for which he is so noted, he immediately set out, and tramping incessantly, started to cross the Alps at the Grimsel. Although constantly urged along by a power he could not resist, Ahasuerus, the Jew, marked the happy people dwelling on the banks of the Aare and the Rhône, and marvelled at the extreme fertility of the pass, where grapes and figs grew in abundance, where no barren spot could be seen, and where mighty oaks covered the tops of mountains now crowned by eternal snows. The air was mild and balmy, even at the greatest altitude; and hosts of birds in bright plumage flitted about, twittering and singing in the merriest way. Ahasuerus also noticed that the people were gentle and hospitable, for wherever he asked for food or drink it was quickly granted, and he was warmly invited to tarry with them and rest his weary limbs. This invitation, however, he could not accept; but hurried on, unconscious of the fact that a blight fell over every place through which he passed; for the curse laid upon him not only condemned him to move on for ever, but enhanced his punishment by making cold, want, and pestilence follow in his train. Many years passed by before the Wandering Jew again found himself near the Alps; but weary as he was, he somewhat quickened his footsteps, hoping to feast his eyes upon the landscape which had so charmed him the first time, and to meet again the warm-hearted people who had been so kind to him once before. As he drew near the mountains, however, sad forebodings wrung his heart, for they were enveloped in a dense fog, which seemed to him particularly cold and clammy. Hurrying on up the pass, he eagerly looked from side to side, yet saw nothing but dark pines wildly tossing their sombre branches against a gray sky, while ravens and owls flew past him, croaking and hooting. Vines, figs, and oaks had vanished, and the happy people, driven away by the constant windstorms which swept the mountains, had taken refuge in the sheltered valleys. But although all else was changed, the spirit of hospitality still lingered on the heights, for the charcoal-burners gladly shared their meagre supply of coarse food with the Wandering Jew, and warmly invited him to be seated at their campfire. The Jew, however, had to hasten on; and many long years elapsed before he again trod the Grimsel Pass. For a while he still perceived dark firs and smouldering fires, but it seemed to him that they were much nearer the foot of the mountain than they had been at his second visit. As he climbed upward he also noticed that the path was much more rugged than before, for rocks and stones had fallen down upon it from above, making it almost impassable in certain places. As no obstacle could stop this involuntary traveller, he went on over rolling stones and jagged rocks, and nearing the top of the pass discovered that every trace of vegetation had vanished, and that the place formerly so fertile was now covered with barren rocks and vast fields of snow. Raising his eyes to the peaks all around him he perceived that oaks, beeches, and pines had all vanished, and that the steep mountain sides were heavily coated with ice, which ran far down into the valleys in great frozen streams. The sight of all this desolation, which had taken the place of such luxuriant vegetation, proved too much for poor Ahasuerus, who sank down on a rock by the wayside and burst into tears. There he sat and sobbed, as he realised for the first time the blighting effect of his passage. His tears flowed so freely that they trickled down into a rocky basin, and when he rose to pursue his way down into the Hasli Valley, he left a little lake behind him. In spite of the masses of snow and ice all around, and of the cold winds which constantly sweep over that region, the waters of the lake still remain as warm as the tears which fell from Ahasuerus's eyes; and no fish are ever found in this pool. Still, notwithstanding the desolate landscape, Ahasuerus found the spirit of hospitality not quite dead, for far up on the pass rose a shelter for weary travellers, where they were carefully tended by pious monks. But even here he could not rest, and as he passed along down the mountain, he heard the thunder of falling avalanches behind him. It is during this last journey that he is supposed to have lost the queer old shoe which was long treasured in one of the vaults of the Bern Library. It is also said that when pausing at one of the huts in the Hasli Valley, he sorrowfully foretold that when fate brought him there for the fourth and last time, the whole fruitful valley, from the top of the mountains down to the Lake of Brienz, would be transformed into a huge unbroken field of ice, where he would wander alone in quest of the final resting-place which until now has been denied him, although Eugene Field claims he found it in the New World. [Footnote: See 'The Holy Cross' by Eugene Field.] This account of the passage of the Wandering Jew is told with slight variations of all the passes between Switzerland and Italy. Every particularly barren spot in the former country is supposed to have been blighted because he passed through there, or because mortals sinned so grievously that they brought a curse down upon it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
777,Wodan as the Wandering Jew,Germany,Lauder does not give this account a separate title.,"Toofie Lauder, Legends and Tales of the Harz Mountains (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1881), pp. 125-26.","At the introduction of Christianity we find a new development of the ancient myths. Wodan becomes the foul fiend, then the godless Hunter, and the Wandering Jew. In the Black Forest the Eternal Hunter and the Eternal Jew are regarded as the same person. They both always carry a groschen in the pocket. In some parts of Germany the harrows are placed in the fields with the teeth together, that the wanderer may rest himself. According to some authorities, he may only rest Christmas night, and then only when he finds a plough in the field; only on that may he sit down. Every seven years the Huntsman passes over the seven mining towns of the Harz, and woe to him who calls after him. According to one legend, the Wild Huntsman met Christ at a river where He sought to quench His thirst, and would not permit Him to drink; he also drove Him from a cattle trough, and when the Saviour found water in a horse's foot-print, and would drink there, he drove Him away. As a punishment, he is doomed to wander for ever, and eat only horse-flesh. This is the pagan legend Christianized. In West and South Germany we find the Wild Army. Odin, or Wodan, was the god, too, of armies, and always went out from Walhalla at the head of his ghostly array, while his nine Walküren [Valkyries] conducted the fallen heroes back to Walhalla [Valhalla].",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
103,Old Sultan,Germany,"The Grimms' source: Johann Friedrich Krause, from the town of Hof in Hessen. This tale, in a somewhat simpler form, was included in the first edition of Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812). It was rewritten in its present form for the second edition (1819). The separate episodes are classified as follows: The old dog rescues the child, Aarne-Thompson type 101. Wild animals hide from an unfamiliar animal, Aarne-Thompson type 103. The war between the village animals and the forest animals, Aarne-Thompson type 104. (Hans-Jörg Uther combines types 103 and 104 under the number 103.) The old dog rescues the child, Aarne-Thompson type 101. Wild animals hide from an unfamiliar animal, Aarne-Thompson type 103. The war between the village animals and the forest animals, Aarne-Thompson type 104. (Hans-Jörg Uther combines types 103 and 104 under the number 103.)","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Der alte Sultan, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 48.","A farmer had a faithful dog named Sultan, who had grown old and lost all his teeth, and could no longer hold onto anything. One day the farmer was standing with his wife before the house door, and said, 'Tomorrow I intend to shoot Old Sultan. He is no longer of any use.' His wife, who felt pity for the faithful animal, answered, 'He has served us so long, and been so faithful, that we might well give him his keep.' 'What?' said the man. 'You are not very bright. He doesn't have a tooth left in his mouth, and no thief is afraid of him. He can go now. If he has served us, he has eaten well for it.' The poor dog, who was lying stretched out in the sun not far off, heard everything, and was sorry that tomorrow was to be his last day. He had a good friend, the wolf, and he crept out in the evening into the forest to him, and complained of the fate that awaited him. 'Listen, kinsman,' said the wolf, 'be of good cheer. I will help you out of your trouble. I have thought of something. Tomorrow, early in the morning, your master is going with his wife to make hay, and they will take their little child with them, for no one will be left behind in the house. While they are at work they lay the child behind the hedge in the shade. You lie down there too, just as if you wanted to guard it. Then I will come out of the woods, and carry off the child. You must run swiftly after me, as if you would take it away from me. I will let it fall, and you will take it back to its parents, who will think that you have rescued it, and will be far too grateful to do you any harm. On the contrary, you will be treated royally, and they will never let you want for anything again.' This idea pleased the dog, and it was carried out just as planned. The father screamed when he saw the wolf running across the field with his child, but when Old Sultan brought it back, he was full of joy, and stroked him and said, 'Not a hair of yours shall be hurt. You shall eat free bread as long as you live.' And to his wife he said, 'Go home at once and make Old Sultan some bread soup that he will not have to bite. And bring the pillow from my bed. I will give it to him to lie on. From then on Old Sultan was as well off as he could possibly wish. Soon afterwards the wolf visited him, and was pleased that everything had succeeded so well. 'But, kinsman,' he said, 'you will just close one eye if, when I have a chance, I carry off one of your master's fat sheep.' 'Don't count on that,' answered the dog. 'I will remain true to my master. I cannot agree to that.' The wolf thought that this was not spoken in earnest, and he crept up in the night to take away the sheep. But the farmer, to whom the faithful Sultan had told the wolf's plan, was waiting for him and combed his hair cruelly with a flail. The wolf had to flee, but he cried out to the dog, 'Just wait, you scoundrel. You'll regret this.' The next morning the wolf sent the boar to challenge the dog to come out into the forest and settle the affair. Old Sultan could find no one to be his second but a cat with only three legs, and as they went out together the poor cat limped along, stretching its tail upward with pain. The wolf and his friend were already at the appointed place, but when they saw their enemy coming, they thought that he was bringing a saber with him, for they mistook the cat's outstretched tail for one. And when the poor animal hopped on three legs, they thought that each time it was picking up a stone to throw at them. Then they took fright. The wild boar crept into the underbrush and the wolf jumped up a tree. As the dog and the cat approached, they wondered why no one was to be seen. The wild boar, however, had not been able to hide himself completely in the leaves. His ears were still sticking out. While the cat was looking cautiously about, the boar wiggled his ears, and the cat, who thought it was a mouse, jumped on it and bit down hard. The boar jumped up screaming loudly, 'The guilty one is up in the tree.' The dog and cat looked up and saw the wolf, who was ashamed for having shown such fear, and who then made peace with the dog. alte Sultan, Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), no. 48. Hessen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
103,The Dog and the Wolf,Bohemia,Bohemia is in today's Czech Republic.,"Theodor Vernaleken, 'Der Hund und der Wolf,' Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), no. 9, pp. 39-43.","Once upon a time there was a peasant family who had a watchdog named Sultan among their household animals. The dog grew old, and, thinking that he could no longer properly attend to to his duties, the peasant chased him away. Dejected and with his head hanging low, the dog left the village, complaining to himself, 'So this is my reward for loyalty at a difficult job. After using up my youthful and energetic years at work, they chase me away and grant me no rest now that I am old and weak.' He sadly went his way, wandering aimlessly about for many days without finding any tolerable shelter. Emaciated and weak from his long journey, he came to a forest. A wolf came out of the forest, ran up to the poor dog, and cried, 'Stop, old fellow! Beware, you are now in my power.' Hearing the wolf speak in this manner, the frightened old Sultan said, 'Dear friend, just take a good look at me, and your appetite for me will disappear. I would make the worst roast you have ever had, for I am nothing but skin and bones. But I do have some advice for you.' The wolf said, 'I don't need any advice from you, you miserable creature. I know what you will say even before you speak, namely that I should let you live. No, I won't change my mind. The long and the short of it is that I am going to eat you.' To this the dog answered, 'I wouldn't think of asking that of you, for I do not want to live any longer. Bite away as long as you want to. But I still have good advice for you. Wouldn't it be better to fatten me up before eating me? You wouldn't loose anything on the feed, because you would get it all back on me. Then I'd make a decent roast. What do you think, Brother Wolf?' The wolf spoke, 'I'll do it, if the feeding doesn't take too long. Follow me to my hut.' The dog did this, and together they went deeper into the woods. Arriving at the hut, Sultan crept inside, while the wolf went forth to hunt some game for the weak dog. When he returned, he threw his capture to Sultan, who ate it with relish. The next day the wolf came and spoke to the dog, 'Yesterday you ate. Today I will eat.' The dog replied, 'What are you thinking of, dear wolf? I scarcely felt yesterday's food in my stomach.' To be sure, this irritated the wolf, but he had to be happy with going into the woods again to hunt game for the dog. With similar responses, our Sultan put off the wolf as long as he was not strong enough to take on the wolf. The wolf continued to hunt and to bring the dog whatever he captured, eating little or nothing himself so that Sultan would have enough. Thus the dog grew ever stronger, while the opposite was true for the wolf. On the sixth day the wolf came to the dog and spoke, 'I believe that you are ready now.' Sultan answered, 'Yes indeed. To be sure, I feel so well that I will take you on unless you set me free.' The wolf spoke, 'You are joking! Just think, I have been feeding you for six days now, while eating nothing myself. Now am I to go away with nothing? That will never do!' To this Sultan responded, 'You are partially right, but does that give you the right to eat me up?' 'That is the right of the strong over the weak,' answered the wolf. 'Right on!' replied the dog. 'And thus you have pronounced judgment on yourself.' With these words he made a daring leap, and before the wolf knew it, he was lying on the ground, overpowered by Sultan. 'Because you allowed me to live, I will not kill you immediately, but rather submit your life to fate. Choose two companions, and I will do the same. Tomorrow come to this place in the woods with them, and we will settle our dispute.' The two separated to seek out their fellow warriors. Angrily, the wolf went deeper into the woods. The dog hurried to the nearest village. After much pleading, the wolf got an ill-tempered, grumbling bear and a sly fox to be his comrades. Our Sultan ran first to the parsonage, where he talked a large gray cat into going with him. Then he went to the town judge's barnyard where he found a brave rooster as a second fellow warrior. It was just getting light, and the dog was already underway with his two companions. They had what they needed. He might even surprise his enemies while they were still deep in sleep. The wolf was the first one to awaken. He woke his comrades, then said to the bear, 'You can climb trees, can't you? Be so good as to climb that tall fir tree and see if you can't get a glimpse of our enemies.' The bear did this, and from the top of the tree he cried down, 'Flee! Our enemies are very near, and what powerful enemies they are! One of them is riding proudly along, carrying many sharp sabers. They glisten strongly in the morning sun. Another one is walking stealthily after him, pulling a long iron rod behind. Woe unto us!' The fox was so frightened at these words, that he decided it would be advisable to make himself scarce. The bear hurriedly climbed down from the tree and crept into some thick brush, so that only the tip of his tail was showing. The enemy was now at hand. The wolf, seeing that his friends had deserted him, tried to get away, but Sultan confronted him. One leap, and the dog had the wolf by the back of his neck, and he finished him off. Meanwhile, the cat noticed the tip of the bear's tail moving in the brush. Hoping to catch a mouse, she snapped at it. Terrified, the bear jumped from his hiding place and fled in all haste up a tree, where he thought he would be safe from the enemy. But he was wrong, because the rooster was there as well. Seeing the bear in the tree, the rooster jumped from one branch to the next, always going higher and higher. The bear was beside himself. Terrified, he fell from the tree and lay there stone dead. And thus the battle ended. The news of the brave deeds of Sultan and his companions spread far and wide, also to the village where Sultan had formerly served. As a consequence, the peasant family took back their loyal watchdog and cared for him. Theodor Vernaleken, 'Der Hund und der Wolf,' Österreichische Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1864), no.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
875,"A City Is Captured, from Which the Women Carry Their Husbands and Children",Germany,Martin Montanus was born after 1537 in Strasbourg (Strassburg) and died after 1566.,"Martin Montanus, 'Ein statt würt gewunnen, daraus die weyber ihre mann und kinder tragen,' Schwankbücher (1557-1566), edited by Johannes Bolte (Tübingen: Gedruckt für den litterarischen Verein in Stuttgart, 1899), no. 80, pp. 341-42.","They did just that; each woman took her husband onto her back and her children under her arms and carried them outside the city. Now the chronicle tells us that when the conquering lord saw this tears came to his eyes, and he spared the lives of everyone and set the city free as well. This is a wonderful example of women showing great virtue and practicing friendship toward their husbands. What did they achieve with this? This is what they achieved: All lives were spared, and not only were their lives spared, but all their possessions were restored to them undamaged. This is a good example of the faithfulness that all women owe their husbands.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
875,The Siege of Gelsterburg Castle,Germany,NA,"Karl Lyncker, 'Die Belagerung der Gelsterburg,' Deutsche Sagen und Sitten in hessischen Gauen (Kassel: Verlag von Oswald Bertram, 1854), no. 232, pp. 161-62.","Gelsterburg Castle once stood on a steep hill not far from the village of Trubenhausen above the Gelster River, which flows into the Werra River near Witzenhausen. Now only its moat and embankment remain. Once this castle was besieged, and neither weapons nor blockade could defeat it. A secret passageway led from the castle to the outside, and the lord of the castle rode out through it whenever he wanted to, but always taking care to reverse the horseshoes on his horse. Nonetheless, the passageway was finally discovered, and now the besieged occupants were faced with starvation or surrender. Then the knight's beautiful wife dared to present herself to besieging soldiers and ask them for mercy for herself. The woman's tears touched the enemy's heart, and she was granted mercy. Then she asked for permission to remove from the castle whatever she could carry in her apron. This too was granted to her. She rushed back into the castle and sewed for herself a large apron, in which she carried her husband to safety, thus rescuing his freedom and saving his life. To this day the boundary stone can be seen where she stopped to rest with her heavy burden.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
875,The Siege of Weidelburg Castle,Germany,"Reinhard von Dalwigk the Unborn, so called because he was born through a Caesarian section, was born about 1400. The ruins of Castle Weidelburg (also spelled Weidelsburg) lie between Naumburg and Ippinghausen near the larger city of Kassel.","Karl Lyncker, 'Die Belagerung der Weidelburg,' Deutsche Sagen und Sitten in hessischen Gauen (Kassel: Verlag von Oswald Bertram, 1854), nos. 234-35, pp. 163-64.","Then his wife, the beautiful Agnes went down to the enemy camp and had herself brought before the landgrave. Crying, she fell to his feet and begged for mercy. The angry count insisted that the knight surrender, but he was touched by the woman's tears, and said that although he had at first intended to not even allow a dog to escape death in the castle, he would now permit her and her maidservants, each carrying what was dear to her, to go free. But the men would have to remain in the castle, awaiting further decisions. The count gave his noble pledge to honor this promise. She hurried back to the castle. Her maidservants loaded themselves with her best clothes and jewelry. She then took her husband onto her back, and thus they departed. When the count saw them, he stated that the knight's departure had not been a part of his promise. Agnes replied, 'But what else would be of value to me, if I were leaving my husband behind in mortal danger? You promised that I could take my most precious belongings with me; therefore I choose my most valuable treasure.' This loyalty and love broke the count's anger, and he let them go.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
875,The Women of Weinsberg,Germany,"Link to a separate file containing only this legend: The Women of Weinsberg. Weinsberg is a town near Heilbronn in southwest Germany. The castle above Weinsberg is called 'Burg Weibertreu,' which translates roughly as 'Castle Women's (or Wives') Faithfulness.'","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die Weiber zu Weinsperg,' Deutsche Sagen, vol. 2 (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung,1818), no. 481, p. 180. In later editions this legend is numbered 493.","When King Conrad III defeated the Duke of Welf (in the year 1140) and placed Weinsberg under siege, the wives of the besieged castle negotiated a surrender which granted them the right to leave with whatever they could carry on their shoulders. The king allowed them that much. Leaving everything else aside, each woman took her own husband on her shoulders and carried him out. When the king's people saw what was happening, many of them said that that was not what had been meant and wanted to put a stop to it. But the king laughed and accepted the women's clever trick. 'A king' he said, 'should always stand by his word.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
875,Weibertreue Castle,Germany,NA,"Notes and Queries, series 4, vol. 9, May 25, 1872, p. 427.","The offer was accepted, and each woman marched out with her husband on her shoulders. The tale is probably not much more authentic than that of Lady Godiva's self-abnegation, and is related of other places in Germany besides Weinsberg. A picture in the principal church, painted in the seventeenth century, represents the circumstances recorded in the legend; and about fifty years ago a society was instituted in the place with the double object of commemorating the heroic astuteness of the Weinsberg ladies in the olden time, and affording relief to poor women who had distinguished themselves by fidelity and self-denial.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1377,A Tyrannical Husband,England,NA,"Sabine Baring-Gould, Curious Myths of the Middle Ages (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1904), pp. 142-43.","A little while ago I cut out of a Sussex newspaper a story purporting to be the relation of a fact which had taken place at a fixed date in Lewes. This was the story. A tyrannical husband locked the door against his wife, who was out having tea with a neighbor, gossiping and scandalmongering; when she applied for admittance, he pretended not to know her. She threatened to jump into the well unless he opened the door. The man, not supposing that she would carry her threat into execution, declined, alleging that he was in bed, and the night was chilly; besides which he entirely disclaimed all acquaintance with the lady who claimed admittance. The wife then flung a log into a well, and secreted herself behind the door. The man, hearing the splash, fancied that his good lady was really in the deeps, and forth he darted in his nocturnal costume, which was of the lightest, to ascertain whether his deliverance was complete. At once the lady darted into the house, locked the door, and, on the husband pleading for admittance, she declared most solemnly from the window that she did not know him. Now, this story, I can positively assert, unless the events of this world move in a circle, did not happen in Lewes, or any other Sussex town. It was told in the Gesta Romanorum six hundred years ago, and it was told, may be, as many hundred years before in India, for it is still to be found in Sanskrit collections of tales.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1377,Dschoha's Wife Locks Him Out,from the Arabic,Dschoha is a variant of the name Nasreddin Hodja.,"Albert Wesselski, Der Hodscha Nasreddin, vol. 2 (Weimar: Alexander Duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 350, p. 8.","Dschoha's wife was accustomed to go out at night to meet her lover, which caused the neighbors to tease Dschoha. Thus one night he stayed awake until she left, then locked the door, and sat down just inside. Upon returning, she found the door locked. She asked him to have mercy on her and to open the door, but he just scolded her. Having given up hope for a good outcome, she said to him, 'If you don't open the door for me, I'll jump into the well.' Then she picked up a large stone and threw it into the well. Filled with regret, he ran outside to see what had happened. His wife immediately slipped into the house and locked the door. He made every effort to convince her to let him come inside, but she scolded him incessantly, saying, 'This is what you get for staying out all night with your drunken friends!' And thus she succeeded in shaming him in the presence of all their neighbors.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1377,The Ancient Knight Who Married a Beautiful Young Wife,The Seven Wise Masters,"Link to another version of this tale: George Laurence Gomme, ed., The History of the Seven Wise Masters of Rome, printed from the edition of Wynkyn de Worde, 1520 (London: Villon Society, 1885), pp. 37-42. Wikipedia article on the Seven Wise Masters.","Roman Stories; or, the History of the Seven Wise Masters of Rome: Containing Seven Days Entertainment, in Many Pleasant and Witty Tales, or Stories (Berwick: W. Phorson, 1785), no. 11, pp. 30-36.","In the famous city of Mantua lived an ancient knight who married a beautiful young wife, whom he loved above all earthly things; but lest his age not concurring with the expectations of her more vigorous youth, should incline her to incontinence, and encourage her in a lawless flame, he was not wanting to do all in his power to confine her within his house; and every night be locked the gates with his own hands, and secured the keys under his bed head. But notwithstanding all the precautions and care of the old knight, his young wife found means to meet her gallant, and supply his defect, by taking the keys from under his bed's head, when he was fast asleep, and opening the door, went to her paramour; and having enjoyed one another to mutual satisfaction, she returned; and laying the keys where she found them, silently crept into bed to her husband. But after she had frequently thus pursued her unlawsul amours without being discovered, at last her husband happened to awake, when she was gone to prosecute her accustomed delights, and missing his wife, he felt for the keys; but not finding them, he got up, and went to the door, which he found only on the lock; and then bolting it, he returned to his chamber, and looked out of the window to see what time she returned. Now we must observe, that in the same city was a law, that at a certain hour in the night, a bell was rung, after which, if either man or woman was found in the streets, they were detained in prison till the next morning, and then put into the pillory, as objects of shame and derision unto all beholders. When it was very late, or rather early, his wife came from her gallant, but found the door bolted against her; however, she took the boldness to knock. The good old knight, looking out at the window, and seeing it was his wife, reproached her in the following manner: 'O thou wicked and unchaste woman!' said he, 'Have I found thee out? How often may I conclude thou hast committed adultery, and defiled thy marriage bed? Assure thyself, lascivious creature, that thou shall stand there till the ringing of the bell, that the watch may seize thee, and thou mayest meet with the punishment due to thy abominable perfidiousness and adultery.' She answered in an humble, dissembling tone: 'Why does my dear lord and husband thus unjustly charge me with a wicked crime, which my known chastity abhors from my soul? God is my witness I am innocent of this grievous accusation; for if you will know the truth, I was sent for by my mother, who was taken dangerously ill; and you being fast asleep, I was loth to awake you, and so with all possible silence I arose, and taking the keys, I opened the door, and went, as my duty obliged me, to my sick mother, whom I found so very ill, that, I fear she cannot live till morning. But for all that, my affection is so great to you tha I came away, and left a dying mother, to return to a dear and loving husband; wherefore, I beseech you, for the love of God, let me in, and do not for my great affection to you, expose me to shame and disgrace.' These plausible pretences did not prevail upon the old knight, who justly looked upon her as guilty of adultery and falshood, and therefore he absolutely refused to let her in. Hereupon she reminded him, what a disgrace it would be, were she taken by the watch, not only to herself but to him, and all their relations; using besides, all the arguments her subtle invention could imagine necessary to prevail upon him; but finding all her prayers to no purpose, and that he remained inexorable, she bethought herself of a stratagem, which she prosecuted after the following manner: 'My lord,' said she, 'you know that by this door there is a well. If you let me not in, I will drown myself to avoid the shame that is coming upon me and my friends.' As the old gentleman was going about to reprove her further, and to threaten her, in hopes to deter her thereby from the like practices for the future, and then intending to let her in, and out of his great love and good nature, to forgive her, the moon went down, and the night was obscured with a darkness more than usual. Overjoyed at this advantage, she pursued her stratagem, and with an audible voice, and a dismal tone she thus expressed herself: 'That I may die like a Christian, I will make my last will; and first I bequeath my soul to heaven, and my body to the earth; but all other worldly goods whatever, I bequeath to my dear husband, for him to dispose of as he shall think convenient.' Having thus finished her pretended will, she went to the well, and there finding a great stone, she took it in her arms, and lifting it up, cried out, 'Now I drown myself!' and so threw the stone into the well, squealing after it very artfully, to make her husband the more readily believe it was her. This done, she stept softly and hid herself behind the door again. Her stratagem had its desired effect; for the good old knight verily believing that his wife had been as good as her word, ran hastily down to the well, making a lamentable outcry all the way, from his great tenderness to her. Now observe the perfidiousness and crafty contrivance of this wicked woman, to turn the tables upon her too indulgent husband; for though, before she had injured him in the highest degree imaginable, yet now she makes him suffer publicly for her scandalous crimes; and instead of reparation to his abused honour, she by the falsest accusations, and most complicated wickedness procures him to be punished in the pillory as a debauched person, for her adulteries; and thereby at once clear herself, be revenged on her innocent husband for threatening her before, and all this at the price of her reputation and good name. The old knight was no sooner out, but she got in, and having locked the doors, went up into the chamber, and looked out of the window, as he had done before. And having a long while heard the good old man grievously lament for her supposed loss, and condemning himself for too much rigour, laughing all the time at him, for his indulgence and love, she at last, in opprobrious terms, called out to him, reproaching him in the vilest manner imaginable, calling him letcherous dotard, and upbraiding him with slighting her and going continually out on nights after harlots. The old good man was so overjoyed to hear his wife was alive, that he valued not what she said; and desiring her to have a better opinion of him, be begged her to open the door, and passing by all, they would be good friends. But all his prayers and intreaties availed nothing. She vowed he should stay till the watch came, that he might deservedly suffer, as he had threatened her before. The knight, in his own vindication, pleaded that it was an improbable thing, that he should be guilty of such vices, seeing his advanced years rendered him unqualified for the delights of love; alledging further, that out of pure affection to her, he was now in the streets; and therefore desired her not to let him suffer shamefully. She confidently answered, that it was God's goodness that he had given him time to repent; and therefore he ought to be thankful, and suffer patiently. The knight replied, that God was merciful, and required nothing more of a sinner, than that he should repent of his sins past, and amend his life. 'Therefore, dear wife,' said he, 'I beg of you to let me in.' She said, 'Who the devil made you so good a preacher? But for all that you come not in here.' And as he was studying some new persuasions to prevail upon her to let him in; the watch came, and finding him in the streets, demanded what he did there at that unseasonable, time of night, reminding him withal, that he had broke the law of the city, and though he was an ancient inhabitant thereof, that could not excuse him from suffering according to the nature of the offence. His wife hearing these words, cried out to the watchmen, 'Now is the time, honest men, for you to avenge me on that foul adulterer, who is so insatiate in his lust, that he never fails at night to forsake my bed, and follow his strumpets. In hopes of reformation, I have patiently forborn him a great while; but nothing will reclaim him, slighting my youth, and continuing still in his wicked whoredoms; therefore now punish him according to his deserts, that he may be made an example to all such doating letchers as he is.' Accordingly he was carried to prison; and he, next morning, shamefully stood in the pillory. George Laurence Gomme, ed., The History of the Seven Wise Masters of Rome, printed from the edition of Wynkyn de Worde, 1520 (London: Villon Society, 1885),",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1377,The Unfaithful Wife,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Saltal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 102, pp. 302-305.","Once upon a time there were two brothers, and as their wives did not get on well together, they lived separately. After a time it came to the ears of the elder brother that the younger brother's wife was carrying on an intrigue with a certain Jugi; so he made up his mind to watch her movements. One night he saw a white figure leave his brother's house and, following it quietly, he saw it go into the Jugi's house, and creeping nearer, he heard his sister-in-law's voice talking inside. He was much grieved at what he had seen, but could not make up his mind to tell his brother. One day the elder brother found that he had no milk in the house, as all his cows had run dry; so he sent a servant to his brother's house to ask for some milk; but the younger brother's wife declined to give any, and sent word that her brother-in-law was quite rich enough to buy milch cows if he wanted milk. The elder brother said nothing at this rebuff, but after a time it happened that the younger brother's cows all became dry, and he in his turn sent to his elder brother for milk. The elder brother's wife was not disposed to give it, but her husband bade her not bear malice and to send the milk. After this the elder brother sent for the other and advised him to watch his wife and see where she went to at night. So that night the younger brother lay awake and watched; and in the middle of the night saw his wife get up very quietly and leave the house. He followed her; as the woman passed down the village street, some Mohammedans, who had been sitting up smoking ganja, saw her and emboldened by the drug set out to see who it was, who was wandering about so late at night. The woman took refuge in a clump of bamboos and pulled down one of the bamboos to conceal herself. The Mohammedans surrounded the clump but when they saw the one bamboo which the woman held shaking, while all the rest were still -- for it was a windless night -- they concluded that it was an evil spirit that they were pursuing and ran away in a panic. When they were gone, the woman came out from the bamboos and went on to the Jugi's house. Her husband who had been watching all that happened followed her, and having seen her enter the Jugi's house hastened home and bolted his door from inside. Presently his wife returned and found the door which she had left ajar, fastened; then she knew that she was discovered. She was however full of resource; she began to beg to be let her in, but her husband only showered abuse upon her and bade her go back to the friend she had left. Then she took a large stone and heaved it into a pool of water near the house. Her husband heard the splash and concluded that she was drowning herself. He did not want to get into trouble with the police, as would surely be the case if his wife were found drowned, so he ran out of the house to the pool of water to try and save her. Seizing this opportunity his wife slipped into the house and in her turn locked the door from inside; so that her husband had to spend the rest of the night out-of-doors. He could not be kept out of the house permanently, and the next day he gave his wife a thrashing and turned her out. At evening however she came back and sat outside in the courtyard, weeping and wailing. The noise made her husband more angry than ever, and he shouted out to her that if she did not keep quiet he would come and cut off her nose. She kept on crying, and the Jugi heard her and sent an old woman to call her to him. She declared that if she went her husband would know and be the more angry with her, but she might go if the old woman would sit in her place and keep on crying, so that her husband might believe her to be still in the courtyard. The old woman agreed and began to weep and wail, while the other went off to the Jugi. She wept to such purpose that the husband at last could not restrain his anger, and rushing out into the darkness with a knife, cut off the nose, as he supposed, of his wife. Presently the wife came back and found the old woman weeping in real earnest over the loss of her nose. 'Never mind, I'll find it and fix it on for you,' so saying she felt about for the nose till she found it, clapped it onto the old woman's face and told her to hold it tight and it would soon grow again. Then she sat down where she had sat before and began to lament the cruelty of her husband in bringing a false charge against her and challenged him to come out and see the miracle which had occurred to indicate her innocence. She repeated this so often that at last her husband began to wonder what she meant, and took a lamp and went out to see. When he found her sitting on the ground without a blemish on her face, although he had seen her with his own eyes go to the Jugi's house, he could not doubt her virtue and had to receive her back into the house. Thus by her cunning the faithless wife escaped the punishment which she deserved.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1377,Tofano Shuts His Wife Out of Doors,"Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron",The Decameron was written about 1350.,"Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron; or, Ten Days Entertainment (Cincinnati: Steward and Kidd Company, 1919); day 7, tale 4, pp. 344-48.","Tofano shuts his wife one night out of doors; who, not being able to persuade him to let her come in, pretends to throw herself into a well, by throwing a stone in. He runs thither to see, during which she enters, and, locking him out, abuses him well. There lived at Arezzo a certain rich man named Tofano, who had a very handsome woman for his wife, whose name was Madam Ghita, of whom all at once, and without knowing why, he became extremely jealous. This greatly vexed the lady, who would frequently demand of him his reasons for such a suspicion; and he being able to assign none, but such as were general, or nothing to the purpose, she resolved to plague him with the real evil, which hitherto had only been imaginary. And having observed that a certain young gentleman had taken particular notice of her, she encouraged him so far, that they only waited for a favorable opportunity to put their design into execution. Amongst the rest of her husband's bad qualities, he had taken a great delight, she saw, in drinking, which she not only seemed pleased with, but would persuade him to drink more. In this manner she used to make him drunk as often as she could, which afforded the first opportunity of being with her lover, and from that time they met continually by the same means. She depended indeed so much upon this drunken disposition of his, that she would not only bring her lover into her house, but even go and spend the greater part of the night along with him, his residence not being very far off. Continuing this way of life, the husband began to perceive that, whilst she encouraged him to drink in that manner, she scarcely tasted it herself, and from thence to suspect, as was really the case, that she made him drunk with a view only to her own private purposes, during the time of his being asleep. And being willing to have proof of this, he pretended once (without having drunk a drop all that day), both in his words and actions, to be the most disordered creature that could be. Which she perceiving, and thinking that he had then had a dose sufficient, and that he would sleep without any more liquor, straightway put him to bed. This was no sooner done, but she went as usual to her lover's house, where she stayed the best part of the night. Tofano finding his wife did not come to bed, got up, and bolted the door, and then went and sat in the window to wait for her coming home, that she might see he was acquainted with her way of going on; and continued there till her return. She, finding the door bolted, was exceedingly uneasy, and tried several times to force it open. Which after Tofano had suffered for some time, he said, 'Madam, you give yourself trouble to no purpose, for here you shall not come; go back, if you please, for you shall enter no more within these doors, till I have showed you that respect, which these ways of yours require, before all your relations and neighbors.' She then begged, for Heaven's sake, that he would open the door, saying, that she had not been where he imagined; but (as the evenings were long, and she able neither to sleep all the time, nor to sit up by herself) that she went to see a gentlewoman in the neighborhood. But all was to no purpose, he seemed resolved that the whole town should be witnesses of their shame, when otherwise they would have known nothing of the matter. The lady, finding her entreaties of no effect, had recourse to threats, and said, 'Either open the door, or I will make you the most miserable man that ever was born.' Tofano replied, 'And which way will you do it?' She, whose wits were sharpened by love, continued, 'Before I will suffer such a disgrace, as you mean wrongfully to fasten upon me, I will throw myself directly into this well, and being found there afterwards, everybody will conclude that you did it in one of your drunken fits; whence it must unavoidably happen, that you be either obliged to fly your country, and lose all your effects; or else that you be put to death, as having murdered your wife.' This, however, had no effect upon him; when she said, 'I can no longer bear all your scorn; God forgive you for being the cause of my death!' and the night being so dark that they could scarcely see one another, she ran towards the well, and taking up a great stone that lay by the well-side, and crying aloud, 'God forgive this act of mine!' she let it fall into the well. The stone made a great noise when it came to the water, which Tofano hearing, firmly believed that she had thrown herself in, and taking the rope and bucket, he ran out to help her. But she, who stood concealed by the side of the door, seeing him go towards the well, got into the house, and made all fast, whilst she went to the window, and began to say to him, 'Why, husband, you should use water whilst you are drinking and not after you have made yourself drunk.' Tofano, seeing her laugh at him, returned, and finding the door bolted, begged of her to open it. But she now changed her note, and began to cry out, 'You drunken, sorry, troublesome wretch! you shall not come in here tonight; I can no longer bear with your evil practices; I will let all the world know what sort of a person you are, and what hours you keep.' Tofano, on the other part, being grievously provoked, used all the bad language he could think of, and made a most terrible mutiny. Upon which the neighbors were all raised out of their beds; and coming to their windows, inquired what was the matter. When she began to lament and say, 'It is this wicked man, who is coming home drunk at all hours of the night, which, having endured a long time, and said a great deal to no purpose, I was now willing to try if I could not shame him out of it by locking him out.' Tofano, on the contrary, told them how the matter was; and threatened her very much. She then said to the neighbors, 'Now you see what sort of a man he is; what would you say if I went in the street, and he within doors, as I am? Then you might think he was in the right. Take notice, I beseech you, how artful he is; he says I have done that which he seems to have done himself, and talks something about the well; but I wish he was in, that he might have some water as well as wine.' The neighbors all joined in blaming Tofano, deeming him the person in fault, and giving him many hard words for his usage of his wife; and the thing was noised about the city, till her relations heard of it, who came thither in a body; and inquiring of one neighbor and another neighbor how it was, they took Tofano and beat him very severely. Afterwards they went into the house, and carried the lady away with them, with all that was hers, threatening Tofano with further punishment. Whilst he, finding the ill effects of his jealousy, and still having a regard for his wife, got some friends to intercede with her to come home again, promising never more to be jealous, and giving her leave for the future to do as she would. Thus, like a simple knave, he was glad to purchase peace, after having been to the last degree injured.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,"How Madde Coomes, When His Wife Was Drowned, Sought Her against the Streame",England,"Hazlitt's source: Pasquils Jests Mixed with Mother Bunches Merriments (London, 1604).","W. Carew Hazlitt, Shakespeare Jest-Books (London: Willis and Sotheran, 1864), 'Mother Bunches Merriments,' p. 27.","Coomes of Stapforth, hearing that his wife was drowned coming from market, went with certayne of his friends to see if they could find her in the river. He, contrary to all the rest, sought his wife against the streame; which they perceyving, sayd he lookt the wrong way. And why so? (quoth he). Because (quoth they) you should looke downe the steame, and not against it. Nay, zounds (quoth hee), I shall never find her that way; for shee did all things so contrary in her life time, that now she is dead, I am sure she will goe against the streame.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,"Mary, Mary, So Contrary [The Pig-Headed Wife]",Finland,"Other translators (notably Aili Kolehmainen in Tales from a Finnish Tupa, 1936) give the title of this story as 'The Pig-Headed Wife,' and name the husband and wife 'Matti' and 'Liisa.'","Parker Fillmore Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy Tales and Folk Tales (New York: Harcout, Brace, and Company, 1922), pp. 209-13.","There was once a farmer who was married to the most contrary wife in the world. Her name was Maya. If he expected Maya to say, 'Yes,' she would always say, 'No,' and if he expected her to say, 'No,' she would always say, 'Yes.' If he said the soup was too hot, Maya would instantly insist that it was too cold. She would do nothing that he wanted her to do, and she always insisted on doing everything that he did not want her to do. Like most contrary people Maya was really very stupid and the farmer after he had been married to her for a few years knew exactly how to manage her. For instance at Christmas one year he wanted to make a big feast for his friends and neighbors. Did he tell his wife so? Not he! Instead, a few weeks beforehand he remarked casually: 'Christmas is coming and I suppose every one will expect us to have fine white bread. But I don't think we ought to. It's too expensive. Black bread is good enough for us.' 'Black bread, indeed!' cried Maya. 'Not at all! We're going to have white bread and you needn't say any more about it! Black bread at Christmas! To hear you talk people would suppose we are beggars!' The farmer pretended to be grieved and he said: 'Well, my dear, have white bread if your heart is set on it, but I hope you don't expect to make any pies.' 'Not make any pies! Just let me tell you I expect to make all the pies I want!' 'Well, now, Maya, if we have pies I don't think we ought to have any wine.' 'No wine! I like that! Of course we'll have wine on Christmas!' The farmer was much pleased but, still pretending to protest, he said: 'Well, if we spend money on wine, we better not expect to buy any coffee.' 'What! No coffee on Christmas! Who ever heard of such a thing! Of course we'll have coffee!' 'Well, I'm not going to quarrel with you! Get a little coffee if you like, but just enough for you and me for I don't think we ought to have any guests.' 'What! No guests on Christmas! Indeed and you're wrong if you think we're not going to have a houseful of guests!' The farmer was overjoyed but, still pretending to grumble, he said: 'If you have the house full of people, you needn't think I'm going to sit at the head of the table, for I'm not!' 'You are, too!' screamed his wife. 'That's exactly where you are going to sit!' 'Maya, Maya, don't get so excited! I will sit there if you insist. But if I do you mustn't expect me to pour the wine.' 'And why not? It would be a strange thing if you didn't pour the wine at your own table !' 'All right, all right, I'll pour it! But you mustn't expect me to taste it beforehand.' 'Of course you're going to taste it beforehand!' This was exactly what the farmer wanted his wife to say. So you see by pretending to oppose her at every turn he was able to have the big Christmas party that he wanted and he was able to feast to his heart's content with all his friends and relatives and neighbors. Time went by and Maya grew more and more contrary if such a thing were possible. Summer came and the haymaking season. They were going to a distant meadow to toss hay and had to cross an angry little river on a footbridge made of one slender plank. The farmer crossed in safety, then he called back to his wife: 'Walk very carefully, Maya, for the plank is not strong!' 'I will not walk carefully!' the wife declared. She flung herself on the plank with all her weight and when she got to the middle of the stream she jumped up and down just to show her husband how contrary she could be. Well, the plank broke with a snap, Maya fell into the water, the current carried her off, and she was drowned! Her husband, seeing what had happened, ran madly upstream shouting: 'Help! Help!' The haymakers heard him and came running to see what was the matter. 'My wife has fallen into the river!' he cried, 'and the current has carried her body away!' 'What ails you?' the haymakers said. 'Are you mad? If the current has carried your wife away, she's floating downstream, not upstream!' 'Any other woman would float downstream,' the farmer said. 'Yes! But you know Maya! She's so contrary she'd float upstream every time!' 'That's true,' the haymakers said, 'she would!' So all afternoon the farmer searched upstream for his wife's body but he never found it. When night came he went home and had a good supper of all the things he liked to eat which Maya would never let him have.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,Of a Woman Who Persisted in Calling Her Husband Lousy,Italy,Poggio Bracciolini (1380-1459) was an important humanist scholar and writer.,"Poggio Bracciolini, 'Von einer Frau, die dabei blieb, ihren Mann einen Lausekerl zu nennen,' Die Facezien des Poggio Fiorentino, translated from the Latin into German by Hanns Floerke (Munich: Georg Müller, 1906), no. 59, pp. 63-64.","One day we were discussing the stubbornness of women, that sometimes is so great that they would rather let themselves be killed rather than to give in. One of our group told the following story: A woman from our region constantly contradicted her husband, always disputing everything that he said, and at all times insisting on having the last word. One day she had a vicious argument with her husband, finally calling him a lousy rascal. Attempting to force her to take back her words he struck her with a stick, his feet, and his fists. But the longer he beat her, the more she called him a lousy rascal. When he finally grew tired of beating her, in order to break her of her stubbornness, he tied a rope around her and led her to the well, then threatened to drown her if she did not cease insulting him. But the woman continued with her insults, repeating the word lousy, even as the water reached her chin. With that her husband let her sink entirely underwater so that she could no longer say anything and to see if the threat of death might cure her of her stubbornness. However, nearly drowned and unable to speak, she expressed herself with her fingers. Lifting her hands above her head she pressed her two thumbnails together, and with this gesture showed her husband's lousiness, for it is with these thumbnails that women normally kill lice.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,Of Hym That Sought His Wyfe against the Streme,England,NA,"The Hundred Merry Tales; or, Shakspeare's Jest Book (London: J. Chidley, 1831), p. 57.","A man the whose wyfe, as she came over a bridg fell in to the ryver and was drowned: wherfore he wente and sought for her upward against the stream, wherat his neighboures, that wente with hym, marvayled, and sayde he dyd nought, he shulde go seke her downewarde with the streame. 'Naye,' quod he, I am sure I shall never fynde her that waye: For she was so waywarde and so contrary to every thynge, whyle she lyvedde, that I knowe very well nowe she is deed, she wyll go agaynste the streame.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,Scissors,Europe,NA,"Joseph Jacobs Europa's Fairy Book: Resored and Retold (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), pp. 31-33.","Once upon a time, though it was not in my time nor in your time nor in anybody else's time, there lived a cobbler named Tom and his wife named Joan. And they lived fairly happily together, except that whatever Tom did Joan did the opposite, and whatever Joan thought Tom thought quite contrary-wise. When Tom wanted beef for dinner Joan liked pork, and if Joan wanted to have chicken Tom would like to have duck. And so it went on all the time. Now it happened that one day Joan was cleaning up the kitchen and, turning suddenly, she knocked two or three pots and pans together and broke them all. So Tom, who was working in the front room, came and asked Joan, 'What's all this? What have you been doing?' Now Joan had got the pair of scissors in her hand, and sooner than tell him what had really happened she said, 'I cut these pots and pans into pieces with my scissors.' 'What?' said Tom, 'Cut pottery with your scissors, you nonsensical woman; you can't do it!' 'I tell you I did with my scissors!' 'You couldn't.' 'I did.' 'Couldn't.' 'Did.' At last Tom got so angry that he seized Joan by the shoulders and shoved her out of the house and said, 'If you don't tell me how you broke those pots and pans I'll throw you into the river.' But Joan kept on saying, 'It was with the scissors.' And Tom got so enraged that at last he took her to the bank of the river and said, 'Now for the last time, will you tell me the truth? How did you break those pots and pans?' 'With the scissors.' And with that he threw her into the river, and she sank once, and she sank twice, and just before she was about to sink for the third time she put her hand up into the air, out of the water, and made a motion with her first and middle finger as if she were moving the scissors. So Tom saw it was no use to try to persuade her to do anything but what she wanted. So he rushed up the stream and met a neighbor who said, 'Tom, Tom, what are you running for?' 'Oh, I want to find Joan; she fell into the river just in front of our house, and I am afraid she is going to be drowned.' 'But,' said the neighbor, 'you're running up stream.' 'Well,' said Tom, 'Joan always went contrary-wise whatever happened.' And so he never found her in time to save her.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,Scissors or Knife?,Russia,Ralston's source: Alexander Afanasyev (1826-71).,"W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-Tales (London: Smith, Elder and Company, 1873), pp. 36-37.","It is only when the joke hinges upon something which is peculiar to a people that it is likely to be found among that people only. But most of the Russian jests turn upon pivots which are familiar to all the world, and have for their themes such common-place topics as the incorrigible folly of man, the inflexible obstinacy of woman. And in their treatment of these subjects they offer very few novel features. It is strange how far a story of this kind may travel, and yet how little alteration it may undergo. Take, for instance, the skits against women which are so universally popular. Far away in outlying districts of Russia we find the same time-honored quips which have so long figured in collections of English facetiae. There is the good old story, for instance, of the dispute between a husband and wife as to whether a certain rope has been cut with a knife or with scissors, resulting in the murder of the scissors-upholding wife, who is pitched into the river by her knife-advocating husband; but not before she has, in her very death agony, testified to her belief in the scissors hypothesis by a movement of her fingers above the surface of the stream. In a Russian form of the story, told in the government of Astrakhan, the quarrel is about the husband's beard. He says he has shaved it, his wife declares he has only cut it off. He flings her into a deep pool, and calls to her to say 'shaved.' Utterance is impossible to her, but 'she lifts one hand above the water and by means of two fingers makes signs to show that it was cut.' The story has even settled into a proverb. Of a contradictory woman the Russian peasants affirm that, 'If you say 'shaved' she'll say 'cut.'' In the same way another story shows us in Russian garb our old friend the widower who, when looking for his drowned wife -- a woman of a very antagonistic disposition -- went up the river instead of down, saying to his astonished companions, 'She always did everything contrary-wise, so now, no doubt, she's gone against the stream.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,Scissors They Were,Italy,NA,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 96, pp. 285-87.","Once upon a time there was a husband and a wife. The husband was a tailor; so was the wife, and in addition was a good housekeeper. One day the husband found some things in the kitchen broken, -- pots, glasses, plates. He asked, 'How were they broken?' 'How do I know?' answered the wife. 'What do you mean by saying 'How do I know?' Who broke them?' 'Who broke them? I, with the scissors,' said the wife, in anger. 'With the scissors?' 'With the scissors!' 'Are you telling the truth? I want to know what you broke them with. If you don't tell me, I will beat you.' 'With the scissors!' (for she had the scissors in her hand). 'Scissors, do you say?' 'Scissors they were!' 'Ah! What do you mean? Wait a bit; I will make you see whether it was you with the scissors.' So he tied a rope around her and began to lower her into the well, saying, 'Come, how did you break them? You see I am lowering you into the well.' 'It was the scissors!' The husband, seeing her so obstinate, lowered her into the well; and she, for all that, did not hold her tongue. 'How did you break them?' said the husband. 'It was the scissors.' Then her husband lowered her more, until she was half way down. 'What did you do it with?' Then he lowered her until her feet touched the water. 'What did you do it with?' Then he let her down into the water to her waist. 'What did you do it with?' 'Take care!' cried her husband, enraged at seeing her so obstinate. 'It will take but little to put you under the water. You had better tell what you did it with; it will be better for you. How is it possible to break pots and dishes with the scissors! What has become of the pieces, if they were cut?' 'It was the scissors! The scissors!' Then he let go the rope. Splash! his wife is all under the water. 'Are you satisfied now? Do you say any longer that it was with the scissors?' The wife could not speak any more, for she was under the water; but what did she do? She stuck her hand up out of the water, and with her fingers began to make signs as if she were cutting with the scissors. What could the poor husband do? He said, 'I am losing my wife, and then I shall have to go after her. I will pull her out now, and she may say that it was the scissors or the shears.' Then he pulled her out, and there was no way of making her tell with what she had broken all those things in the kitchen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,The Baneyrwal and His Drowned Wife,Pakistan,Footnote by Swynnerton: 'Baneyrwal -- a Baneyr-walla -- a Baneyr-fellow -- an inhabitant of Baneyr.',"Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 35, pp. 90-91.","There was once a sudden flood in the Indus, which washed away numbers of people, and, among others, the wife of a certain Baneyrwal. The distracted husband was wandering along the banks of the river, looking for the dead body, when a countryman accosted him thus, 'Oh friend, if, as I am informed, your wife has been carried away in the flood, she must have gone down the stream with the rest of the poor creatures; yet you are going up the stream.' 'Ah, sir,' answered the wretched Baneyrwal, 'you did not know that wife of mine. She always took an opposite course to everyone else. And even now that she is drowned, I know full well that, if other bodies have floated down the river, hers must have floated up.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,The Contrary Wife,Spain,NA,"Susette M. Taylor The Humour of Spain (London: Walter Scott Publishing Company, 1909), p. 40.","A tambourinist had so contrary a wife, he never could get her to do anything he asked. One day, on their way to a wedding, at which he was to play, she was riding an ass and carrying his tambourine, and he cried out, as they were fording a river, 'Woman, don't play the tambourine, for you'll frighten the ass.' No sooner said than she began thrumming. The ass, shying, lost its footing, and threw our dame into the river; while the husband, however much he wished to help her, could do no good. Seeing she was drowned, he went upstream in search of her body. 'My good fellow,' said a looker-on, 'what are you seeking?' 'My wife,' replied he, 'who is drowned.' 'And you are looking for her upstream, friend?' 'Oh, yes, sir, she was always contrary.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,The Contrary Woman,Norway,NA,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated by H. L. Bræstad (London: David Nutt, 1897), pp. 39-44.","There was once upon a time a man who had a wife, and she was so contrary and cross-grained that it was not an easy thing at all to get on with her. The husband fared worst of all; whatever he was for, she was always against. So it happened one Sunday in summer that the man and the woman went out to see how the crops looked. When they came to a corn-?eld on the other side of the river the man said, 'It's ready for reaping; tomorrow we must begin.' 'Yes, tomorrow we can begin and clip it,' said the woman. 'What is it you say? Are we going to clip it? Are we supposed not to reap corn any longer?' said the man. 'No, it must be clipped,' said the woman. 'There is nothing so dangerous as a little knowledge,' said the man; 'one would think you had lost what little sense you had! Have you ever seen anybody clipping corn?' said he. 'Little I know, and less I want to know,' said the woman; 'but this I do know, that the corn shall be clipped and not reaped.' There was no use talking any more about that; clipped it should be. So they walked on wrangling and quarrelling, till they came to the bridge across the river, close to a deep pool. 'There's an old saying,' said the man, 'that good tools make good work; I fancy that'll be a queer harvest which is cut with a pair of shears,' said he. 'Shall we not settle to reap the corn, after all?' 'No, no! It must be clipped, clipped, clipped!' shouted the woman jumping up and clipping her ?ngers under the man's nose. In her passion she forgot to look where she was going, and all at once she stumbled over one of the beams on the bridge and fell into the river. 'Old habits are hard to change,' thought the man, 'but it would be a wonder if I, for once, got my way.' He waded out into the pool and got hold of her by the hair, till her head was just out of the water. 'Shall we reap the corn then?' he said. 'Clip, clip, clip!' screamed the woman. 'I'll teach you to clip,' thought the man, and ducked her under the water. But that wasn't of much use.' They must clip it,' she said, as he brought her to the surface again. 'I do believe the woman is crazy,' said the man to himself. 'Many are mad and don't know it, and many have sense and don't use it; but I must try once more, anyhow,' said he. But no sooner had he ducked her under again than she held her hand above the water and began to clip with her ?ngers, like a pair of shears. Then the man got furious and kept her under so long that her hand all of a sudden fell under water, and the woman became so heavy that he had to let go his hold. 'If you want to drag me down into the pool with you, you may lie there, you wretch!' said the man. And so the woman was drowned. But after a while he thought it wasn't right that she should lie there and not be buried in Christian soil, so he went along the river and searched and dragged for her; but for all his searching and all his dragging he could not ?nd her. He took the people on the farm and others in the neighborhood with him, and they began dragging the river all the way down; but for all the searching they could not ?nd the woman. 'Well,' said the man, 'this is not much use! This woman was a sort by herself; while she was alive she was altogether a contrary one, and it is not likely she'll be different now,' he said. 'We must search up the river for her, and try above the fall; perhaps she has ?oated upwards.' So they went up the river and searched and dragged for her above the fall, and there, sure enough, she lay. That shows what a contrary woman she was!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,The Woman Drowned,Jean de La Fontaine,Link to this fable in the original French: La femme noyée. Wikipedia article on Jean de La Fontaine (1621-95).,"Jean de La Fontaine The Fables of La Fontaine (London: J. C. Nimmo and Bain, 1884), book 3, no. 16, pp. 72-73.","I'm none of those who coldly say, ''Tis nothing -- 'tis a woman drowned;' I say 'tis much, and merits grief profound, When one of these is lost who make life gay. Quite a propos is what I've here to tell, A tale of one who in the river fell, And made her melancholy exit there. Her husband for the body looked with care; He thought a handsome funeral her due. It chanced, as near the fatal spot he drew, He met some strollers by the riverside, Who nothing of the matter knew. 'Have any of ye seen my wife?' he cried. 'No, not a trace of her,' said one; 'but go, Run with the current, look for her below.' 'Rather run up,' another cried, 'good man, As her opposing spirit doubtless ran: All things float down the current, it is true, But she'll float up, be sure, to bother you!' He joked, I think, a little out of season. This female character of contradiction Is true perhaps, perhaps is fiction; I'll not attempt about it here to reason: But she that got it with her early breath. Will keep it even when in death; Her contradiction to the end will go, Ay, and beyond it too, for all I know.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1365,The Woman Who Called Her Husband a Louse-Cracker,Germany,"Simrock's source: Johannes Pauli, Von Schimpff unnd ernst, vil weiser höflicher Sprüch, Historien, Exempel und Manung in allem thun und leben der menschen [Frankfurt/Main] 1545. Wikipedia article on Johannes Pauli (ca. 1455 - ca. 1530).","Karl Simrock, Schimpf und Ernst nach Johannes Pauli (Heilbronn: Verlag von Gebrüder Henninger, 1876), no. 389, p. 294.","There was a man who had an evil wife. When she got angry with him she called him a louse-cracker. This irritated him, especially when she did so in the presence of other people. He forbade her to this, under the threat of severe punishment, but this did not stop her. One time she called him thus, so he threw her into the pond in his garden. Drowning, and no longer able to speak, she raised both arms above the water and pressed her two thumbnails together, as though she were cracking lice. What she was not able to say with words she said with actions.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
882,The Falsely Accused Wife,NA,"Aarne-Thompson type 882. This tale is found throughout Europe, both in literary and folkloristic versions. Most often the story concludes with the falsely accused wife returning to her now repentant husband, but I prefer the version given above. D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",NA,"a folktale of Aarne-Thompson type 882 retold by D. L. Ashliman Once there was a wealthy merchant who lived together in a great manor with his many servants and his beautiful and faithful wife. His trust in her loyalty was always a source of comfort to him on his long voyages to the great ports of the seven seas. But one fateful day a discussion with a friend and fellow merchant brought him cause for concern. 'Wives are faithful only until opportunity knocks,' claimed the friend, who then added boastfully, 'I can charm my way into any woman's bedroom!' 'Certainly not into my wife's chambers,' replied the merchant. 'Her virtue is beyond question.' 'If you are so sure of her, then let us enter into a wager as to her real fidelity,' returned the friend, if we may call him that, for in truth he was a deceitful villain and was setting a cruel trap for the merchant and his wife. The merchant, ever sure of his wife's virtue, struck a wager with the friend. Each placed half his fortune at stake. The friend would win if he could bring evidence that he had seduced the merchant's wife. The merchant would win if the friend's attempts proved fruitless. The bet having been made, the villain bribed one of the merchant's servants to carry a trunk into the mistress's bedroom for safekeeping. 'It would need to be there for only one night,' explained the devious schemer. He then procured a large trunk, drilled a peephole into one end, hid himself inside, and had his own servants deliver it to the merchant's manor. That night he spied on the merchant's wife as she got ready for bed, observing through the peephole that she had a peculiar birthmark on her hip. When the good woman was sound asleep he lifted the trunk's lid and quietly stole the ring that was lying on the table beside her bed. The next morning his servants, as planned, returned for the trunk and carried him back to his own house. Soon afterward he met with the unsuspecting merchant. 'Such a night of lovemaking!' he boasted. 'But tell me,' doesn't the birthmark on your wife's hip annoy you? It's quite unbecoming of such an otherwise beautiful woman.' The merchant was turning red with anger, but the worst was still to come. 'As a token of our love,' lied the villain further, 'your good wife gave me this ring.' The merchant, recognizing his wife's wedding ring, stormed from the place with rage. He burst into his manor with fury, accosted his unsuspecting wife, and told her to prepare to die. Her pleas for an explanation went unheeded, nor did her supplications for mercy divert him from his cruel design. The merchant charged his most loyal servant with the dreadful task. He was to take the accused woman into the forest and shoot her, then bring back her liver and lungs as evidence that vengeance had been served. With a heavy heart he led his mistress into the forest, but he could not force himself to perform the wicked deed. Instead, he gave her a set of his own clothes, provided her with what rations he could get together, wished her Godspeed, and let her escape into the woods. He then killed a doe, cut out its liver and lungs, and returned to his heartless master with evidence that the terrible act had been performed. The pitiful woman, dressed in men's clothes, made her way through the forest, arriving at last in the royal city. She applied for a position at the king's court. Her fine manners and elegant speech impressed the officials, and they hired her at once as a clerk. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. The falsely accused wife proved herself equal to every task that her new position presented. She quickly advanced from one post to the next until she, still disguised as a man, finally became the highest judge in the kingdom. One day two merchants appeared before her bench. Embroiled in a dispute over a wager, they were bringing their case before the highest judge, whose justice and wisdom had rapidly found praise throughout the land. The judge recognized them immediately as her heartless husband and his deceitful friend. She listened carefully as her husband related how he had entered into the fateful wager, only to learn later from his servants about the delivery of the overnight trunk. Rightly sensing that he had been tricked, and was now attempting to recover the half of his fortune that he had lost. The judge heard his story to its end, then arose. Standing proud and tall in her courtly robes she told her own story of cruel betrayal. Her hapless husband, now recognizing the injustice of his wrongful accusation, begged for mercy. The judge, seeking justice, but not revenge, solemnly pronounced her judgment: The two merchants were to be banished from the kingdom forever. The king, in the meanwhile, had quietly entered the courtroom and had listened intently to the proceedings. The admiration and respect that he had felt toward his highest judge turned to love and devotion, now that he knew he was actually a she. Thus, the king gained not only a wise and prudent judge, but also a faithful and loving wife. And they ruled happily together until the end of their days. Revised March 25, 2001.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1381,How a Fish Swam in the Air and a Hare in the Water,Ukraine,"Lang does not list his source, but this story appears to be a revised version of a Ukrainian tale first published by P. P. Cubinskij in St. Petersburg in 1878. I know the story in a German translation entitled 'Wenn in der Ehe Zwietracht herrscht' and published by Bohdan Mykytiuk, Ukrainische Märchen (Düsseldorf: Eugen Diederichs Verlag, 1979), no. 51, pp. 203-205.","Andrew Lang, The Violet Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1901), pp. 148-152.","Once upon a time an old man and his wife lived together in a little village. They might have been happy if only the old woman had had the sense to hold her tongue at proper times. But anything which might happen indoors, or any bit of news which her husband might bring in when he had been anywhere, had to be told at once to the whole village, and these tales were repeated and altered until it often happened that much mischief was made, and the old man's back paid for it. One day, he drove to the forest. When he reached the edge of it he got out of his cart and walked beside it. Suddenly he stepped on such a soft spot that his foot sank in the earth. 'What can this be?' thought he. 'I'll dig a bit and see.' So he dug and dug, and at last he came on a little pot full of gold and silver. 'Oh, what luck! Now, if only I knew how I could take this treasure home with me -- but I can never hope to hide it from my wife, and once she knows of it she'll tell all the world, and then I shall get into trouble.' He sat down and thought over the matter a long time, and at last he made a plan. He covered up the pot again with earth and twigs, and drove on into the town, where he bought a live pike and a live hare in the market. Then he drove back to the forest and hung the pike up at the very top of a tree, and tied up the hare in a fishing net and fastened it on the edge of a little stream, not troubling himself to think how unpleasant such a wet spot was likely to be to the hare. Then he got into his cart and trotted merrily home. 'Wife!' cried he, the moment he got indoors. 'You can't think what a piece of good luck has come our way.' 'What, what, dear husband? Do tell me all about it at once.' 'No, no, you'll just go on and tell everyone.' 'No, indeed! How can you think such things! For shame! If you like I will swear never to -- ' 'Oh, well! If you are really in earnest then, listen.' And he whispered in her ear, 'I've found a pot full of gold and silver in the forest! Hush! -- ' 'And why didn't you bring it back?' 'Because we'll drive there together and bring it carefully back between us.' So the man and his wife drove to the forest. As they were driving along the man said, 'What strange things one hears, wife! I was told only the other day that fish will now live and thrive in the tree tops and that some wild animals spend their time in the water. Well, well! Times are certainly changed.' 'Why, you must be crazy, husband! Dear, dear, what nonsense people do talk sometimes.' 'Nonsense, indeed! Why, just look. Bless my soul, if there isn't a fish, a real pike I do believe, up in that tree.' 'Gracious!' cried his wife. 'How did a pike get there? It is a pike -- you needn't attempt to say it's not. Can people have said true -- ' But the man only shook his head and shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth and gaped as if he really could not believe his own eyes. 'What are you standing staring at there, stupid?' said his wife. 'Climb up the tree quick and catch the pike, and we'll cook it for dinner.' The man climbed up the tree and brought down the pike, and they drove on. When they got near the stream he drew up. 'What are you staring at again?' asked his wife impatiently. 'Drive on, can't you?' 'Why, I seem to see something moving in that net I set. I must just go and see what it is.' He ran to it, and when he had looked in it he called to his wife, 'Just look! Here is actually a four-footed creature caught in the net. I do believe it's a hare.' 'Good heavens!' cried his wife. 'How did the hare get into your net? It is a hare, so you needn't say it isn't. After all, people must have said the truth -- ' But her husband only shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as if he could not believe his own eyes. 'Now what are you standing there for, stupid?' cried his wife. 'Take up the hare. A nice fat hare is a dinner for a feast day.' The old man caught up the hare, and they drove on to the place where the treasure was buried. They swept the twigs away, dug up the earth, took out the pot, and drove home again with it. And now the old couple had plenty of money and were cheery and comfortable. But the wife was very foolish. Every day she asked a lot of people to dinner and feasted them, until her husband grew quite impatient. He tried to reason with her, but she would not listen. 'You've got no right to lecture me!' said she. 'We found the treasure together, and together we will spend it.' Her husband took patience, but at length he said to her, 'You may do as you please, but I shan't give you another penny.' The old woman was very angry. 'Oh, what a good-for-nothing fellow to want to spend all the money himself! But just wait a bit and see what I shall do.' Off she went to the governor to complain of her husband. 'Oh, my lord, protect me from my husband! Ever since he found the treasure there is no bearing him. He only eats and drinks, and won't work, and he keeps all the money to himself.' The governor took pity on the woman, and ordered his chief secretary to look into the matter. The secretary called the elders of the village together, and went with them to the man's house. 'The governor,' said he, 'desires you to give all that treasure you found into my care.' The man shrugged his shoulders and said, 'What treasure? I know nothing about a treasure.' 'How? You know nothing? Why your wife has complained of you. Don't attempt to tell lies. If you don't hand over all the money at once you will be tried for daring to raise treasure without giving due notice to the governor about it.' 'Pardon me, your excellency, but what sort of treasure was it supposed to have been? My wife must have dreamt of it, and you gentlemen have listened to her nonsense.' 'Nonsense, indeed,' broke in his wife. 'A kettle full of gold and silver, do you call that nonsense?' 'You are not in your right mind, dear wife. Sir, I beg your pardon. Ask her how it all happened, and if she convinces you I'll pay for it with my life.' 'This is how it all happened, Mr. Secretary,' cried the wife. 'We were driving through the forest, and we saw a pike up in the top of a tree -- ' 'What, a pike?' shouted the secretary. 'Do you think you may joke with me, pray?' 'Indeed, I'm not joking, Mr. Secretary! I'm speaking the bare truth.' 'Now you see, gentlemen,' said her husband, 'how far you can trust her, when she chatters like this.' 'Chatter, indeed? I! Perhaps you have forgotten, too, how we found a live hare in the river?' Everyone roared with laughter; even the secretary smiled and stroked his beard, and the man said, 'Come, come, wife, everyone is laughing at you. You see for yourself, gentlemen, how far you can believe her.' 'Yes, indeed,' said the village elders, 'it is certainly the first time we have heard that hares thrive in the water or fish among the tree tops.' The secretary could make nothing of it all, and drove back to the town. The old woman was so laughed at that she had to hold her tongue and obey her husband ever after, and the man bought wares with part of the treasure and moved into the town, where he opened a shop, and prospered, and spent the rest of his days in peace.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1381,How a Woman Could Not Keep a Secret,India,"This type 1381 tale opens with an episode of type 910G, about the man who buys enigmatic advice, which later proves to be useful.","Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 56, pp. 213-216.","Once upon a time there was a certain weaver who became so indigent and poor that he went to a grain seller and borrowed forty rupees. 'If I do not return within a year,' said he, 'take my house and all it contains. They are yours.' So the weaver wandered off over the hills, and in a lonely place he saw a light, and going to it, he found there a man sitting on the ground. He sat by his side, but the man spoke never a word. At last the weaver said, 'Why, man, can't you speak? Say something, at least. Do you not see I am a stranger?' 'My fee,' answered the man, 'is twenty rupees. Hand me twenty rupees, and I will speak.' The weaver counted out twenty rupees and gave them to him, eagerly waiting to see the result. But all the man said was, 'Friend, when four men give you advice, take it.' Said the weaver to himself, 'I have only twenty rupees left, and if I venture on another question I shall lose that, too!' But a weaver's curiosity is very great, so he counted out his balance, handed it to the man, and said, 'Speak again.' Then the man spoke a second time, and what he said was this, 'Whatever happens to you -- even if you rob, steal, or murder -- never breathe a word of it to your wife.' Soon after, the weaver took up his wallet and trudged along until he came to another desolate place, and there he saw four men sitting on the ground round a corpse. 'Whither away?' said they. 'I am going to that village across the river,' answered he. 'Do an act of charity,' said they. 'We were carrying this body to the river. Take it up, as you are going that way, and throw it in for us.' Immediately they laid the corpse on his bare back and started him off. But as he went along he felt the most horrid pricking across his loins. 'In the name of God,' he cried, 'what is this corpse doing? Are these knives or needles?' He could not stop to lay the corpse down, because it was a fat corpse, and he would never have been able to get it up again. So he went on groaning to the river, dropped it on the bank, and began to examine it. What was his surprise to find fastened round the waist of the corpse numbers of little bags filled with diamonds! He at once pounced on them, threw the corpse into the river, and started for home. Arriving in all safety, he paid off the grain seller, presenting him as well with five gold mohurs [coins], bought a handsome mare and a nice saddle, hired servants and took to fine clothes, and lived on roast fowl and rice pudding every day. In the same village the lumbardâr [headman] was a man well-to-do in the world, and he, noticing the style in which his humble friend lived, sent his wife to gossip with the weaver's wife. 'Not long ago,' she began, 'I used to give you cotton to spin for me, and now what a lady you are! However, I am now your friend. Your husband I see has bought a mare and a handsome saddle, and he has a servant to follow him. Where did he get all the money? You might tell me.' 'Indeed I don't know,' answered the woman. That night the wretched weaver had no rest. 'Tell me,' said his wife, again and again, 'where you went to, and how you got all that money.' 'No, no,' answered he, 'I can't tell you. The best thing you can do is not to tease me, as once you know the secret, it will be told everywhere, for women are like sieves.' The next morning he went out half dead with worry, and when he returned for his food, he found his wife still asleep, and nothing ready. 'Get up, wife,' cried he. 'Get up, I want my breakfast.' 'Why should I get up?' said she. 'What kind of husband are you, and what kind of wife do you take me for? You treat me like a child, and tell me nothing.' 'Best for you not to know,' replied he. 'Yes, but tell me,' said she. 'Not a word shall pass my lips.' 'Well,' said he, 'I was told on my travels that if I drank half a pint of mustard oil in the morning, when I got up, I should see treasure everywhere.' In the course of the day in came her friend, and the woman laughs and says, 'Oh, I have found out everything! I have found out everything!' 'What is it? Quick, tell me!' said the lumbardâr's wife. 'My husband said,' answered she, 'that when he drinks half a pint of mustard oil he sees all the treasures buried by the old kings, so I advise you to give your husband and your six children half a pint each, and drink some yourself, and you will see treasure too.' The woman at once ran home, bought some mustard oil, and at night persuades her whole family to drink it, though she took none herself. In the morning she rushes into their rooms and cries, 'Get up! Get up, and look for treasure!' But, alack! She finds them all lying dead and stiff. Now, when the king heard of this, he called for her, and all she could say was, 'The weaver's wife deceived me, and told me to do it.' But the weaver's wife denied it, saying, 'I never told her. I expect she is carrying on with some low fellow, and, not to be interfered with, she got rid of her husband and children.' So the lumbardâr's wife was hanged, and so ends the story, all the trouble having been caused by a woman who could not keep a secret. Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), no. 56, pp. 213-216. who buys enigmatic advice, which later proves to be useful.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1381,The Found Money,Netherlands,"Boekenoogen's source: A. Smit, who heard the story in Steenwijk.","G. J. Boekenoogen, 'Van het gevonden geld,' Volkskunde: Tijdschrift voon Nederlandsche Folklore, vol. 14 (1901-1902), story 18, pp. 115-17.","In a small village near Kampen there lived a man and a woman with a few children. They eked out a living by fishing, weaving, and poaching. One evening the man was looking after his salmon weirs [enclosures built in a stream for catching fish] and fox traps when he found a large bag of money on the road. Instead of looking after his traps and weirs, he returned home, wanting for once to give his Grete a pleasant surprise. But when he was almost home he reconsidered and said to himself, 'If I tell my wife about this, tomorrow the entire world will know. So he went back and placed the bag of money behind a thick tree and looked into his fox traps and weirs. A fox was sitting in one of them, and a salmon in the other. He killed them both, then put the fox into the weir and the salmon into the trap. Then he went back to his Grete, who was busy weaving. 'Oh, Grete!' he called out, 'Do come with me. It is so dark that I lost my way.' Grete did not think long about it and went with Peter. Their path led them past the courthouse, where a light was still burning late, because people were inside cleaning. 'Good gracious, Peter!' said Grete. 'There is still a light on in the courthouse, and so late in the evening.' 'Yes,' said Peter, 'Tonight the gendarme is settling his account with the devil.' 'No! Peter! Is that true?' 'Of course,' said Peter. 'Didn't you know that the gendarme settles his account with the devil once each year?' 'No, I really did not know that,' said Grete. Finally they came to the weir, where they found a fox, and a fat salmon was caught in the fox trap. Then they turned toward home, but on the way Peter said, 'Grete, it is raining hard. Let's get under that tree a little while.' And the moment they sat down Grete found the large bag of money. 'Peter,' said Grete, 'we had better go home as fast as possible, so no one will notice, and we can't tell anyone about it either.' 'No, not on our lives,' said Peter. But it wasn't long before Grete just had to tell her neighbor Trinchen. She, for sure, would not tell a single soul. But Trinchen told Mariechen, and Mariechen told Hannchen, and then the entire village knew about it. It wasn't long before Peter and Grete were summoned to the courthouse to turn in the money. 'We did not find any money,' said Peter. 'But,' said the mayor, 'your wife says that you did.' 'Yes, Lord Mayor,' said Peter, 'My wife does talk a lot, but she is not all there upstairs.' 'Is a monkey delousing me? Are you trying to have me declared insane?' cried Grete. 'I know exactly when it was. It was the night when the gendarme was settling his account with the devil and when we caught a fox in the weir and a salmon in the fox trap.' 'So, Lord Mayor, what do you say to that?' said Peter. 'I hear you,' said the mayor. 'Just go back home.' vol. 14 (1901-1902), story 18, pp. 115-17. Steenwijk.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1381,The Iron Chest,Germany,"Zaunert first published this tale in Deutsche Märchen seit Grimm, vol. 1 (1912). Zaunert's source: Ulrich Jahn, Schwänke und Schnurren aus Bauern Mund (Berlin, 1890), pp. 48ff.","Paul Zaunert, 'Der eiserne Kasten,' Deutsche Märchen seit Grimm (Jena: Eugen Diederichs, 1919), pp. 90-93. © 1964 by Eugen Diederichs Verlag.","Once upon a time there was a poor peasant. One morning before sunrise he rode into the forest to cut wood. There, under an oak tree, he met a very old woman. She was standing before a large iron chest, and she said to him, 'You can redeem me and make yourself lucky! This iron chest is filled to the top with hard thalers. Take it home with you, but tell no one a solitary word about it, or it will bring you misfortune.' The man was delighted to hear these words, and the old woman was also so friendly as to take hold of the chest and help him load it onto his wagon. He thanked her kindly and rode back home. 'Mother,' he said as the wagon pulled up to the door, 'I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but you are my dear wife, so the promise doesn't apply to you.' 'That's right, father,' said the peasant's wife with curiosity. 'I'll be as silent as the grave. What is it then? Why are you coming home so early from the woods?' 'That's exactly what it is!' answered the peasant. 'I found a large chest full of money under an oak tree. We shall never want again. But be sure to hold your tongue. Now go and fix us something good to eat. I've had no meat for a week now.' With that they lifted the chest from the wagon and carried it into the cellar. Then the peasant's wife took a thaler out of the iron chest, bought some meat, and roasted it on the hearth. What joy! However, her neighbor had hardly smelled the delicious odor when she hurried by, sniffed, and said, 'Good day, kinswoman, what are you cooking?' 'Oh, neighbor,' replied the woman, 'I can't tell anyone, but of course you can keep a secret. When my husband was driving into the forest to cut wood, he found a large iron chest full of money beneath an oak tree.' 'That is wonderful,' said the kinswoman. 'You told the right person, for I won't repeat it to a soul!' Then she ran back to her house. Not long afterward her brother's wife came to visit her from the neighboring farm. 'Sister-in-law, do you know what has happened?' she asked her. 'But you must be able to hold your tongue!' 'Oh, as though I were a blabbermouth!' 'I know, and that's why I said that. Our neighbor from over there, the little peasant, while he was cutting wood in the forest he found a large chest of gold under an oak tree.' The sister-in-law did indeed hold her tongue and carried the story to the sexton's wife, and before the sun went down it had found its way to the magistrate. He summoned the peasant before him and said, 'I know it all! You stole a chest of money, and it is in your cellar. Turn over the money!' 'No, my lord,' answered the peasant. 'That is not true. I am as poor as a church mouse and am an honest fellow. I've stolen nothing.' 'That will be determined, old friend,' replied the magistrate. 'Your wife herself said so.' 'Oh, my lord, my wife is crazy.' 'Go now! The court meets in two weeks. At that time we will see if your wife is crazy.' The peasant did not feel well as he left the magistrate's estate, and he thought of the words the old woman had spoken to him under the oak tree. But he did not loose courage. He hurried home, took a handful of thalers out of the chest, hitched up his wagon, and drove into town. There he bought all the bread rolls that the bakers had in stock, so that he had a good dozen bushels of them to load into his wagon. He drove back home with them and scattered the rolls all about the yard, while his wife was in the kitchen cooking something good. He threw a few pecks of them onto the roof and laid a few of them just outside the gate as well. Then he ran into the kitchen shouting, 'Woman, you are just like all the others! No sooner do we get a little money in our pockets than you let the housekeeping float off into the blue! The good Lord let it rain bread rolls outside, and you won't even bend over to pick them up!' 'Man, are you stupid?' replied the peasant's wife. 'It rained rolls?' 'It certainly did. Go see for yourself,' the man replied. So the peasant woman looked out the window, and when she saw the many thousands of rolls in the yard she was overjoyed. She ran outside and for the next few hours gathered them, filling three large meat tubs. The next day the peasant said, 'Listen, woman, when I was recently in town I learned that our king by mistake has recruited new soldiers with long pointed iron beaks. They especially pick at womenfolk with them, sticking them to death. They are supposed to be coming through our village today. I will tip the washtub over you, and they won't find you. They won't find me either. I'll hide in the attic.' Filled with fear, the peasant's wife sat down, and the peasant tipped the washtub over her. Then he went into the chicken coop, caught all the chickens and carried them into the house, then scattered barley all around the washtub and on top of it. Then peck, peck, peck, the chickens ate up all the barley until not a kernel was to be found. Then they all ran back into the yard. Then the peasant picked up the tub and said to his wife, 'Mother, they have left the village!' 'Oh, father, I was so afraid,' said the peasant's wife. 'Oh, how they were knocking: peck, peck, peck! with their long iron beaks! But I didn't make a sound, and they didn't find me.' 'Thank God, they didn't find me either!' said the peasant, and that was that. When the two weeks had passed, the peasant and his wife were summoned to court. The peasant denied everything, but when the judges turned sternly to his wife, she swore by everything good and true that she had told her neighbor the truth. 'Don't believe the woman, my lords,' cried the peasant. 'She is not all there upstairs! -- And, mother, what else happened when I brought home the chest?' 'Don't you remember, father? It was the day before the good Lord let it rain bread rolls!' The judges shook their heads, and the peasant said, 'Am I not right? She is crazy!' 'I am supposed to be crazy?' continued the woman eagerly. 'Don't you remember, father? It was two days before our king's new soldiers with the long pointed iron beaks came through the village and to our farm, and peck, peck, peck, knocked on the washtub that you had tipped over on top of me!' 'Peasant, you are right!' said the judges. Your wife is not all there. Go home with her and take care that she doesn't cause any harm.' Thus peasant was out of trouble, and he went back to his village with his wife. There he let her taste his buckthorn stick, and it was so good for her that she never gossiped again. Little by little they used the money in the iron chest to buy one piece of land after the other next to their farm, and finally became very wealthy. And if they didn't die, they are still alive. Grimm, vol. 1 (1912). Bauern Mund (Berlin, 1890), pp. 48ff.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1381,The Treasure,Denmark,NA,"Sven Grundtvig, Danish Fairy Tales, translated by J. Grant Cramer (Boston: Four Seas Company, 1919), pp. 57-60.","There was once a poor peasant who tilled a small field that belonged to a rich landowner. One day while he was plowing, his plow struck something so violently that it could not be moved. At first the man thought that it was a stone, but when he looked more carefully he found that it was a large chest full of old coins. It was gold and silver money that had probably been hidden there many hundred years ago in war times. The peasant filled a bag with the money and dragged it home, for he thought that he had as good a right to keep the money as anyone else. The original owner had, of course, died many generations ago. In spite of that, he feared that the landowner would claim and seize the money when he learned that it had been found in his field. So the peasant said nothing to anybody except his wife about the find, and he begged her to keep silent about it. But she could not keep the secret, and had to tell some of her friends about the good fortune. To be sure she asked each one separately not to tell anybody; but as they could not keep the secret either, at last the news of the discovery of the treasure came to the ears of the landowner. Soon after that he rode out to the peasant's cottage, which lay far out on a lonely heath. There was, however, nobody at home except the woman, for her husband had just gone to town to get some money changed. So when the landowner asked the woman about the matter, she told him all that she knew -- that her husband had found a chest full of money out in the field, and that he was not at home now, and that she did not know where he had put the money. The owner then said that he would return another time, and make further inquiry about the money. When the peasant came home, his wife told him all that had happened; nevertheless, he did not reproach her. The next day he took his horses and wagon and asked his wife to accompany him to the town. There he exchanged all his old money for new coins, and invested the proceeds carefully and to good advantage. Then be bought a bushel of little rolls, which he put into a large bag. The man and his wife ate and drank to their hearts content, and towards evening they started on their homeward journey. It was late in the autumn, and it was raining and blowing hard as they drove home in the dark. But the wine she had drunk had gone to the head of the wife, and she slept soundly on the back seat. After they had gone for some distance, she was awakened by a roll that fell on her head, and immediately after that another one fell into her lap; and as soon as she fell asleep, rolls again began to rain down upon her. These her husband was throwing into the air so that they should fall upon her. 'But what is happening?' the woman called to her husband, 'it seems to me that it is raining rolls.' 'Yes,' said her husband, 'that is just what it is doing; we are having terrible weather.' As they were passing the landowner's house, the woman was awakened by the braying of a donkey. 'What was that?' she exclaimed, feeling very uneasy. 'Well, I hardly like to say,' replied her husband, 'but if I must tell the truth, it was the devil who once loaned our landlord some money, and is now tormenting him because he will not pay the interest; he is thrashing him with a horsewhip.' 'Hurry up,' said the woman, 'and get away from here as fast as you can.' So the man whipped up his horses, and at last they reached home safe and sound. But when they were home the husband said, 'Listen, wife, I heard some bad news when we were in town. The enemy is in our land and this night he will be in our neighborhood. So you must crawl into the potato cellar in order to be out of danger, while I shall stay up stairs and protect our property as well as I can.' So the peasant's wife went down into the cellar, while her husband took his gun and went outside, and shot and cried out and made a great noise. This he kept up all night, and towards morning he told his wife that she could come up. 'Fortunately,' he said, 'I was able to hold my own. I shot down many of the enemy, who at last were compelled to retire, taking with them their dead and wounded.' 'Thank God,' she said, 'that everything has turned out well; I was frightened nearly to death.' A few days after that the landowner rode out and found the peasant standing before his cottage. 'Where is the treasure that you found in my field?' he asked him. The man answered that he did not know anything about a treasure. 'Oh, nonsense,' said the landowner, 'it will not do you any good to deny it, for your wife told me all about it herself.' 'That is quite possible,' said the man, 'for my wife is sometimes a little queer, and one can not always believe all that she says.' And he touched his forehead as he spoke. Then the landowner called the woman and asked whether it were not true that she had confessed to him that her husband had found a chest full of money in the field. 'Certainly,' she said, 'and I was with him in town when he exchanged the old money for new coins.' 'When was that?' asked the landlord. 'Why that was the time we had the frightful storm when it rained bread rolls.' 'Nonsense,' said he; 'when was that?' 'It was on the day of the great battle that was fought on our field, after the enemy had invaded our country.' 'What battle, and what enemy?' said the landlord, 'I think that the woman is crazy. But tell me at once, when was it that you were in town to exchange the money?' Then the woman wept, and much as she disliked to do so, she had to say it, 'It was the same evening that the devil was tormenting you and beating you because you would not pay him what you owed him.' 'What are you saying?' screamed the landowner, in a rage; 'I'll thrash you for your lying nonsense.' And with that he gave her a blow with his whip and dashed out of the door and rode away, and never again asked about the treasure. The peasant, however, bought a large farm in another part of the country and lived there happily with his wife. Grant Cramer (Boston: Four Seas Company, 1919), pp. 57-60.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1381,The Wife Who Could Not Keep a Secret,India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 77, pp. 235-237.","Once there was a man of the Goala caste [a caste of cattle herders], who looked after the cattle of a rich farmer. One day a cow dropped a calf in the jungle without the Goala knowing, and at evening the cow came running to join the others, without the calf. When they got home the cow kept on lowing, and the master asked whether she had had a calf. The Goala had to confess that the calf had been left in the jungle. The master scolded him well, so he took a rope and stick and went out into the night. But when he got to the jungle he could not hear the calf, so he decided to wait where he was till the morning. He was too frightened of wild animals to stay on the ground, so he climbed a tree, leaving the stick and rope at the foot of it. Soon a tiger smelt him out and came to the place. Then the stick and the rope took council together as to how they could save their master. The stick saw that it could not see in the dark and so was powerless. So the rope agreed to fight first, and it whirled itself round in the air with a whistling noise, and the tiger, hearing the noise and seeing no one, got frightened, and thought that there was an evil spirit there. So it did not dare to come very near, and in the morning it took itself off. Then the Goala saw the cow come to look for her calf, so he took up the stick and rope and followed her. The cow soon found her calf and asked it whether it had not been very cold and uncomfortable all night. But the calf said, 'No, mother, I put my foot in these four pots of rupees, and they kept me warm.' The Goala heard this and resolved to see if it were true. So he dug up the earth where the calf had been lying and soon uncovered the rims of four pots full of money. But the Goala did not dare to take the money home for fear his wife should talk about it. He resolved to see first whether his wife could keep a secret. So he went home and told her to cook him some food quickly. She asked why, and he said, 'The raja has a tortoise inside him, and I am going to look at him.' Then his wife said that she must fetch some water, and she went off with the water pot. On the way she met several women of the village, who asked her why she was fetching water so early, and she said, 'Because the raja has a tortoise inside him, and my husband is going off to see it.' In less than an hour the village was full of the news, and the rumor spread until it reached the ears of the raja. The raja was very angry and said that he would kill the man who started the report, unless he could prove it to be true. So he sent messengers throughout the country to trace back the rumor to its source. One messenger found out that it was the Goala who had started the story and told him that the raja wanted to give him a present. So he gladly put on his best clothes and went off to the raja's palace. But the raja had him bound with ropes, and then questioned him as to why he had told a false story. The Goala admitted that his story was false, but explained that he had only told it to his wife, in order to see whether she could keep a secret, because he had found four pots of money. The raja asked where the money was, and the Goala said that he would show it, but he wanted to know first how much of it he was to have for himself. The raja promised him half, so the Goala led men to the place, and they dug up the money, and the Goala kept half and became a rich man. Moral: However friendly you are with a man, do not tell him what is in your heart, and never tell your wife the real truth, for one day she will lose her temper and let the matter out.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1381D,"Of Women, Who Not Only Betray Secrets, but Lie Fearfully",NA,"Aarne-Thompson type 1381D. The Gesta Romanorum or Deeds of the Romans was compiled in Latin in the early fourteenth century by an English cleric. It was first published about 1473. Its title notwithstanding, only a few of the work's some 283 stories deal with the Romans. Instead, the collection presents a mixture of anecdotes, legends, and fables, gleaned from many sources and presented in a context appropriate for incorporation into Christian sermons. The spiritual 'application' or moral given to this very earthy jest seems, by the secular standards of the twentieth century, to be as strained as the poor man's bowel movement. Swan offers the following explanation of the tale's final sentence: 'This seems merely introduced to tell us, in the application, that the black letter is recollection of our sins; the red, Christ's blood; and the white, the desire of heaven.' D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology. The Wife Who Could Not Keep a Secret and other folktales of type 1381. A man finds a treasure, but nearly loses it because of his talkative wife.","Gesta Romanorum; or, Entertaining Moral Stories, translated by Charles Swan (London: George Bell and Sons, 1877), no. 125, pp. 226-227.","There were two brothers, of whom one was a layman and the other a parson. The former had often heard his brother declare that there never was a woman who could keep a secret. He had a mind to put this maxim to the test in the person of his own wife, and one night he addressed her in the following manner, 'My dear wife, I have a secret to communicate to you, if I were certain that you would reveal it to nobody. Should you divulge it, it would cause me the greatest uneasiness and vexation.' 'My lord,' answered his wife, 'fear not; we are one body, and your advantage is mine. In like manner, your injury must deeply affect me.' 'Well, then,' said he, 'know that, my bowels being oppressed to an extraordinary degree, I fell very sick. My dear wife, what will you think? I actually voided a huge black crow, which instantly took wing, and left me in the greatest trepidation and confusion of mind.' 'Is it possible?' asked the innocent lady; 'but, husband, why should this trouble you? You ought rather to rejoice that you are freed from such a pestilent tenant.' Here the conversation closed; in the morning, the wife hurried off to the house of a neighbor. 'My best friend,' said she, 'may I tell you a secret?' 'As safely as to your own soul,' answered the fair auditor. 'Why,' replied the other, 'a marvelous thing has happened to my poor husband. Being last night extremely sick, he voided two prodigious black crows, feathers and all, which immediately flew away. I am much concerned.' The other promised very faithfully -- and immediately told her neighbor that three black crows had taken this most alarming flight. The next edition of the story made it four; and in this way it spread, until it was very credibly reported that sixty black crows had been evacuated by one unfortunate varlet. But the joke had gone further than he dreamt of; he became much disturbed, and assembling his busy neighbors, explained to them that having wished to prove whether or not his wife could keep a secret, he had made such a communication. Soon after this, his wife, dying, he ended his days in a cloister, where he learned three letters; of which one was black; the second, red; and the third, white. Application: My beloved, the layman is any worldly minded man who, thinking to do one foolish thing without offense, falls into a thousand errors. But he assembles the people -- that is, past and present sins -- and by confession expurgates his conscience. Revised November 6, 2000.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,Guerrino and the Savage Man,"Italy, Giovanni Francesco Straparola",Giovanni Francesco Straparola lived in Italy between about 1485 and 1558. His collection of tales Le Piacevoli Notti (Facetious Nights) was published in two volumes in Venice between 1550 and 1553. Link to the Wikipedia article about The Facetious Nights of Straparola.,"Source (books.google.com): Giovanni Francesco Straparola, The Facetious Nights of Straparola, vol. 2, translated by W. G. Waters (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), night 5, tale 1, pp. 138-77. Source (Internet Archive): Giovanni Francesco Straparola, The Facetious Nights of Straparola, vol. 2, translated by W. G. Waters (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), night 5, tale 1, pp. 138-77.","Guerrino, only son of Filippomaria, King of Sicily, sets free from his father's prison a certain savage man. His mother, through fear of the king, drives her son into exile, and him the savage man, now humanized, delivers from many and measureless ills. I have heard by report, and likewise gathered from my own experience, most gracious and pleasure-loving ladies, that a kindly service done to another (although at the time the one served may seem in no sense grateful for the boon conferred) will more often than not come back to the doer thereof with abundant usury of benefit. Which thing happened to the son of a king who, having liberated from one of his father's prisons a wild man of the woods, was more than once rescued from a violent death by the captive he had freed. This you will easily understand from the fable which I intend to relate to you, and for the love I bear to all of you I will exhort you never to be backward in aiding others; because, even though you be not repaid by those in whose behalf you have wrought, God himself, the rewarder of all, will assuredly never leave your good deed unrecompensed; nay, on the contrary, he will make you partakers with him of his divine grace. Sicily, my dear ladies (as must be well known to all of you), is an island very fertile and complete in itself, and in antiquity surpassing all the others of which we have knowledge, abounding in towns and villages which render it still more beautiful. In past times the lord of this island was a certain king named Filippomaria, a man wise and amiable and of rare virtue, who had to wife a courteous, winsome, and lovely lady, the mother of his only son, who was called Guerrino. The king took greater delight in following the chase than any other man in the country, and, for the reason that he was of a strong and robust habit of body, this diversion was well suited to him. Now it happened one day that, as he was coming back from hunting in company with divers of his barons and huntsmen, he saw, coming out of a thick wood a wild man, tall and big and so deformed and ugly that they all looked upon him with amazement. In strength of body he seemed no whit inferior to any of them; wherefore the king, having put himself in fighting trim, together with two of the most valiant of his barons, attacked him boldly, and after a long and doughty struggle overcame him and took him a prisoner with his own hands. Then, having bound him, they conveyed him back to the palace, and selected for him a safe lodging, fitted for the purpose, into which they cast him, and there under strong locks he was kept by the king's command closely confined and guarded. And seeing that the king set high store upon his captive, he ordained that the keys of the prison should be held in charge by the queen, and never a day passed when he would not for pastime go to visit him. Before many days had gone by the king once more put himself in array for the chase, and, having furnished himself with all the various things which are necessary thereto, he set forth with a gallant company of courtiers, but before he left he gave into the queen's care the keys of the prison. And during the time that the king was absent on his hunting a great longing came over Guerrino, who was at that season a young lad, to see the wild man of the woods; so having betaken himself all alone, carrying his bow, in which he delighted greatly, to the prison grating, the creature saw him and straight way began to converse with him in decent orderly fashion. And while they talked the boy, dexterously snatched out of his hand the arrow, which was richly ornamented. Whereupon the boy began to weep, and could not keep back his tears, crying out that the savage ought to give him back his arrow. But the wild man said to him: 'If you will open the door and let me go free from this prison I will give you back your arrow, but if you refuse I will not let you have it.' The boy answered, 'How would you that I should open the door for you and set you free, seeing that I have not the means therefor.' Then said the wild man, 'If indeed you were in the mood to release me and to let me out of this narrow cell, I would soon teach you the way in which it might be done.' 'But how?' replied Guerrino; 'tell me the way.' To which the wild man made answer: 'Go to the chamber of the queen your mother, and when you see that she is taking her midday sleep, put your hand softly under the pillow upon which she is resting, and take therefrom the keys of the prison in such wise that she shall not notice the theft, and bring them here and open my prison door. When you shall have done this I will give you back your arrow forthwith, and peradventure at some future time I may be able to make you a return for your kindness.' Guerrino, wishing beyond everything to get back his gilded dart, did everything that the wild man had told him, and found the keys exactly as he had said, and with these in his hand he returned to the prison, and said to him: 'Behold! Here are the keys; but if I let you out of this place you must go so far from hence that not even the scent of you may be known, for if my father, who is a great huntsman, should find you and capture you again, he would of a surety kill you out of hand.' 'Let not that trouble you, my child,' said the captive, 'for as soon as ever you shall open the prison and see me a free man, I will give you back your arrow and will get me away into such distant parts that neither your father nor any other man shall ever find me.' Guerrino, who had all the strength of a man, worked away at the door, and finally threw open the prison, when the wild man, having given back to him his arrow and thanked him heartily, went his way. Now this wild man had been formerly a very handsome youth, who, through despair at his inability to win the favour of the lady he ardently loved, let go all dreams of love and urbane pursuits, and took up his dwelling amongst beasts of the forest, abiding always in the gloomy woods and bosky thickets, eating grass and drinking water after the fashion of a brute. On this account the wretched man had become covered with a great fell of hair; his skin was hard, his beard thick and tangled and very long, and, through eating herbs and grass, his beard, his hairy covering, and the hair of his head had become so green that they were quite monstrous to behold. As soon as ever the queen awoke from her slumbers she thrust her hand under her pillow to seek for the keys she had put there, and, when she found they were gone, she was terrified amain, and having turned the bed upside down without meeting with any trace of them, she ran straightway like one bereft of wit to the prison, which was standing open. When on searching further she found no sign of the wild man, she was so sore stricken with grief and fear that she was like to die, and, having returned to the palace, she made diligent search in every corner thereof, questioning the while now this courtier and now that as to who the presumptuous and insolent varlet was who had been brazen enough to lay hands upon the keys of the prison without her knowledge. To this questioning they one and all declared that they knew nought of the matter which thus disturbed her. And when Guerrino met his mother, and remarked that she was almost beside herself in a fit of passion, he said to her: 'Mother see that you cast no blame on any of these in respect to the opening of the prison door, because if punishment is due to any thereanent it is due to me, for I, and I alone, unlocked it.' The queen, when she heard these words, was plunged in deeper sorrow than ever, fearing lest the king, when he should come back from his hunting, might kill his son through sheer anger at the fault he had committed, seeing that he had given into her charge the keys, to guard them as preciously as her own person. Wherefore the queen in her desire to escape the consequences of a venial mistake fell into another error far more weighty, for without the shortest delay she summoned two of her most trusty servants, and her son as well, and, having given to them a great quantity of jewels and much money and divers fine horses, sent him forth to seek his fortune, at the same time begging the servants most earnestly to take the greatest care of Guerrino. A very short time after son had departed from the presence of his mother, the king came back to the palace from following the chase, and as soon as he had alighted from his horse he betook himself straightway to the prison to go and see the wild man, and when he found the door wide open and the captive gone, and no trace of him left behind, he was forthwith inflamed with such violent anger that he determined in his mind to cause to be slain without fail the person who had wrought such a flagrant misdeed. And, having sought out the queen, who was sitting overcome with grief in her chamber, he commanded her to tell him what might be the name of the impudent, rash, and presumptuous varlet who had been bold enough of heart to open the doors of the prison and thereby give opportunity to the wild man of the woods to make his escape. Whereupon the queen, in a meek and trembling voice, made answer to him: 'O sire! be not troubled on account of this thing, for Guerrino our son (as he himself has made confession to me) admits that he has done this.' And then she told to the king everything that Guerrino had said to her, and he, when he heard her story, was greatly incensed with rage. Next she told him that, on account of the fear she felt lest he should slay his son, she had sent the youth away into a far distant country, accompanied by two of their most faithful servants, and carrying with him rich store of jewels and of money sufficient to serve their needs. The king, when he listened to this speech of the queen, felt one sorrow heaping itself upon another, and he came within an ace of falling to the ground or of losing his wits, and, if it had not been for the courtiers who fell upon him and held him back, he would assuredly have slain his unhappy queen on the spot. Now when the poor king had in some measure recovered his composure and calmed the fit of unbridled rage which had possessed him, he said to the queen: 'Alas, my wife! What fancy was this of yours which induced you to send away into some unknown land our son, the fruit of our mutual love? Is it possible that you imagined I should hold this wild man of greater value than one who was my own flesh and blood?' And without awaiting any reply to these remarks of his, he bade a great troop of soldiers mount their horses forthwith, and, after having divided themselves into four companies, to make a close search and endeavour to find the prince. But all their inquest was in vain, seeing that Guerrino and his attendants had made their journey secretly, and had let no one know who they might be. Guerrino, after he had ridden far and traversed divers valleys and mountains and rivers, making a halt now in one spot and now in another, attained at last his sixteenth year, and so fair a youth was he by this time that he resembled nothing so much as a fresh morning rose. But after a short time had passed, the servants who accompanied him were seized with the devilish thought of killing him, and then taking the store of jewels and money and parting it amongst themselves. This wicked plot, however, came to nought, because by the working of divine justice they were not able to agree amongst themselves. For by good fortune it happened that, one day while they were devising this wickedness, there rode by a very fair and graceful youth, mounted upon a superb steed, and accoutred with the utmost magnificence. This youth bowed and graciously saluted Guerrino, and thus addressed him: 'Most gracious sir, if it should not prove distasteful to you, I would fain make my journey in your company.' And to this Guerrino replied: 'Your courtesy in making your request will not permit me to refuse it and the pleasure of your company. Therefore I give you cordial thanks, and I beg you as a special favour that you will accompany us on our road. We are strangers in this country and know but little of its highways, and you may be able of your kindness to direct our paths therein. Moreover, as we ride on together we can discuss the various chances which have befallen us, and thus our journey will be less irksome.' Now this young man was no other than the wild man whom Guerrino had set free from the prison of King Filippomaria his father. This youth, after wandering through various countries and strange lands, met one day by chance a very lovely and benignant fairy, who was at that time suffering from a certain distemper. She, when she looked upon him and saw how misshapen and hideous he was, laughed so violently at the sight of his ugliness that she caused to burst an imposthume which had formed in the vicinity of her heart -- an ailment which might well have caused her death by suffocation. And at that very moment she was delivered from all pain and trouble of this infirmity, as if she had never been afflicted therewith in the past, and restored to health. Wherefore the good fairy, in recompense for so great a favour done to her, said to him, not wishing to appear ungrateful to him: 'O thou creature, who art now so deformed and filthy, since thou hast been the means of restoring to me my health which I so greatly de sired, go thy ways, and be thou changed from what thou art into the fairest, the wisest, and the most graceful youth that may anywhere be found. And, besides this, I make you the sharer with me of all the power and authority conferred upon me by nature, whereby you will be able to do and to undo whatsoever you will according to your desire.' And having presented to him a noble horse endowed with magic powers, she gave him leave to go whithersoever he would. Thus as Guerrino journeyed along with the young man, knowing nothing as to who he might be, but well known of him the while, they came at last to a mighty and strong city called Irlanda, over which at that time ruled King Zifroi. This King Zifroi was the father of two daughters, graceful to look upon, of modest manners, and in beauty surpassing Venus herself, one of them named Potentiana and the other Eleuteria. They were held so dear by the king their father, that he could see by no other eyes than theirs. As soon as Guerrino entered the city of Irlanda with the unknown youth and with his train of servants, he hired a lodging of a certain householder who was the wittiest fellow in the whole of Irlanda, and who treated his guests with cheer of the best. And on the day following, the unknown youth made believe that he must needs depart and travel into another country, and went to take leave of Guerrino, thanking him in hearty wise for the boon of his company and good usage, but Guerrino, who had conceived the strongest love and friendship for him, would on no account let him go, and showed him such strong evidence of his good feeling that in the end the young man agreed to tarry with him. In the country round about Irlanda there lived at this time two very fearful and savage animals, one of which was a wild horse, and the other a mare of like nature, and so ferocious and cruel were these beasts that they not only ravaged and devastated all the fair cultivated fields, but likewise killed all the animals and the men and women dwelling there in. And through the ruin wrought by these beasts the country had come to such piteous condition that no one was found willing to abide there, so that the peasants abandoned their farms and the homes which were dear to them and be took themselves to find dwelling-places in another land. And there was nowhere to be found any man strong and bold enough to face them, much less to fight with them and slay them. Wherefore the king, seeing that the whole country was being made desolate of all victuals, and of cattle, and of human creatures, and not knowing how to devise any remedy for this wretched pass, gave way to dolorous lamentations, and cursed the hard and evil fortune which had befallen him. The two servants of Guerrino, who during the journey had not been able to carry out their wicked intent through want of concord between themselves, and on account of the arrival of the unknown youth, now deliberated how they might compass Guerrino's death and remain possessors of the money and jewels, and said one to the other: 'Let us now see and take counsel together how we may easiest take the life of our master.' But not being able to find any means thereto which seemed fitting, seeing that they would stand in peril of losing their own lives by the law if they should kill him, they decided to speak privily with their host and to tell him that Guerrino was a youth of great prowess and valour; furthermore, that he had often boasted in their presence that he would be ready to slay this wild horse without incurring any danger to himself. Thus they reasoned with themselves: 'Now this saying may easily come to the ears of the king, who, being so keenly set on the destruction of these two animals and on safeguarding the welfare of his country, will straightway command them to bring Guerrino before him, and will then inquire of the youth in what manner he means to accomplish this feat. Then Guerrino, knowing nothing what to say or to do, will at once be put to death by the king, and we shall remain sole masters of the jewels and the money.' And they forth with set to work to put this wicked plan of theirs into action. The host, when he listened to this speech, rejoiced amain, and was as glad as any man in all the world, and without losing a moment of time he ran swiftly to the palace, and having knelt down be fore the king and made due reverence, he said to him secretly, 'Gracious king, I have come to tell you that there is at present sojourning in my hostel a fair and gallant knight errant, who is called by name Guerrino. Now whilst I was confabulating about divers matters with his servants they told me, amongst other things, how their master was a man of great prowess and well skilled in the use and practice of arms, and that in this our time one might search in vain to find another who could be compared with him. Moreover, they had many and many a time heard him boast that of his strength and valour he could without difficulty overcome and slay the wild horse which is working such dire loss and damage to your kingdom.' When King Zifroi heard these words he immediately gave command that Guerrino should be brought before him. Whereupon the innkeeper, obedient to the word of the king, returned at once to his inn and said to Guerrino that he was to betake himself alone into the pres ence of the king, who greatly desired to speak with him. When Guerrino heard this he went straightway to the palace and presented himself to the king, and after saluting him with becoming reverence begged to be told for what reason he had been honoured with the royal commands. To this Zifroi the king made answer: 'Guerrino, the reason which has induced me to send for you is that I have heard you are a knight of great valour, and one excelling all the other knights now alive in the world. They tell me, too, that you have many and many a time declared that you are strong and valorous enough to overcome and slay the wild horse which is working such cruel ruin and devastation to this my kingdom, without risk of hurt to yourself or to others. If you can pluck up courage enough to make trial of an emprise so full of honour as this, and prove yourself a conqueror, I promise you by this head of mine to bestow upon you a gift which will make you a happy man for the rest of your days.' Guerrino, when he heard this proposition of the king, so grave and weighty, was mightily amazed, and at once denied that he had ever spoken such words as had been attributed to him. The king, who was greatly disconcerted at this answer of Guerrino, thus addressed him: 'Guerrino, it is my will that you should without delay undertake this task, and be sure if you refuse and fail to comply with my wishes I will take away your life.' The king, having thus spoken, dismissed from his presence Guerrino, who returned to his inn overwhelmed with deep sorrow, which he did not dare to disclose to anyone. Whereupon the unknown youth, marking that Guerrino, contrary to his wont, was plunged in melancholy, inquired the reason why he was so sad and full of grief. Then Guerrino, on account of the brotherly love subsisting between them, and finding himself unable to refuse this just and kind request, told him word for word everything that had happened to him. As soon as the unknown youth heard this, he said, 'Be of good cheer, and put aside all doubts and fears, for I will point out to you a way by which you will save your life, and be a conqueror in your enterprise, and fulfil the wishes of the king. Return, therefore, to the king, and beg of him to grant you the service of a skilful blacksmith. Then order this smith to make for you four horseshoes, which must be thicker and broader by the breadth of two fingers than the ordinary measure of horseshoes, well roughed, and each one to be fitted behind with two spikes of a finger's length and sharpened to a point. And when these shoes are prepared, you must have my horse, which is enchanted, shod therewith, and then you need have no further fear of anything.' Guerrino, after he had heard these words, returned to the presence of the king, and told him everything as the young man had directed him. The king then caused to be brought before him a well-skilled marshal smith, to whom he gave orders that he should carry out whatever work Guerrino might require of him. When they had gone to the smith's forge, Guerrino instructed him how to make the four horseshoes according to the words of the young stranger, but when the smith understood in what fashion he was required to make these shoes, he mocked at Guerrino, and treated him like a madman, for this way of making shoes was quite strange and unknown to him. When Guerrino saw that the marshal smith was inclined to mock him, and unwilling to serve him as he had been ordered, he went once more to the king, and complained that the smith would not carry out his directions. Wherefore the king bade them bring the marshal before him, and gave him express command that, under pain of his highest displeasure, he should at once carry out the duties which had been imposed upon him, or, failing this, he himself should forthwith make ready to carry out the perilous task which had been assigned to Guerrino. The smith, thus hard pressed by the orders of the king, made the horseshoes in the way described by Guerrino, and shod the horse therewith. When the horse was thus shod and well-accoutred with everything that was necessary for the enterprise, the young stranger addressed Guerrino in these words: 'Now mount quickly this my horse, and go in peace, and as soon as you shall hear the neighing of the wild horse dismount at once, and, having taken off from him his saddle and his bridle, let him range at will. You yourself climb up into a high tree, and there await the issue of the enterprise.' Guerrino, having been fully instructed by his dear companion in all that he ought to do, took his leave, and departed with a light heart. Already the glorious news had been spread abroad through all the parts of Irlanda how a valiant and handsome young knight had undertaken to subjugate and capture the wild horse and to present him to the king, and for this reason everyone in the city, men and women alike, all flew to their windows to see him go by on his perilous errand. When they marked how handsome and young and gallant he was, their hearts were moved to pity on his account, and they said one to another, 'Ah, the poor youth! With what a willing spirit he goes to his death. Of a surety it is a piteous thing that so valiant a youth should thus wretchedly perish.' And they could none of them keep back their tears on account of the compassion they felt. But Guerrino, full of manly boldness, went on his way blithely, and when he had come to the spot where the wild horse was wont to abide, and heard the sound of his neigh, he got down from his own horse, and having taken the saddle and bridle therefrom he let him go free, and himself climbed up into the branches of a great oak, and there awaited the fierce and bloody contest. Scarcely had Guerrino climbed up into the tree when the wild horse appeared and forthwith attacked the fairy horse, and then the two beasts engaged in the fiercest struggle that the world had ever seen, for they rushed at one another as if they had been two unchained lions, and they foamed at the mouth as if they had been bristly wild boars pursued by savage and eager hounds. Then, after they had fought for some time with the greatest fury, the fairy horse dealt the wild horse two kicks full on the jaw, which was put out of joint thereby; wherefore the wild horse was at once disabled, and could no longer either fight or defend himself. When Guerrino saw this he rejoiced greatly, and having come down from the oak, he took a halter which he had brought with him and secured the wild horse therewith, and led him with his dislocated jaw back to the city, where he was welcomed by all the people with the greatest joy. According to his promise he presented the horse to the king, who, together with all the inhabitants of the city, held high festival, and rejoiced amain over the gallant deed wrought by Guerrino. But the servants of Guerrino were greatly overcome with grief and confusion, inasmuch as their evil designs had miscarried; wherefore, inflamed with rage and hatred, they once more let it come to the hearing of King Zifroi that Guerrino had vaunted that he could with the greatest ease kill the wild mare also when ever it might please him. When the king heard this he laid exactly the same commands on Guerrino as he had done in the matter of the horse, and because the youth refused to undertake this task, which appeared to him impossible, the king threatened to have him hung up by one foot as a rebel against his crown. After Guerrino had returned to his inn, he told everything to his unknown companion, who smilingly said: 'My good brother, fret not yourself because of this, but go and find the marshal smith, and command him to make for you four more horseshoes, as big again as the last, and see that they are duly furnished with good sharp spikes. Then you must follow exactly the same course as you took with the horse, and you will return here covered with greater honour than ever.' When therefore he had commanded to be made the sharply-spiked horseshoes, and had caused the valiant fairy horse to be shod therewith, he set forth on his gallant enterprise. As soon as Guerrino had come to the spot where the wild mare was wont to graze, and heard her neighing, he did everything exactly in the same manner as before, and when he had set free the fairy horse, the mare came towards it and attacked it with such fierce and terrible biting that it could with difficulty defend itself against such an attack. But it bore the assault valiantly, and at last succeeded in planting so sharp and dexterous a kick on the mare that she was lamed in her right leg, whereupon Guerrino came down from the high tree into which he had climbed, and having captured her, bound her securely. Then he mounted his own horse and rode back to the palace, where he presented the wild mare to the king, amidst the rejoicings and acclamations of all the people. And everyone, attracted by wonderment and curiosity, ran to see this wild beast, which, on account of the grave injuries she had received in the fight, soon died. And by these means the country was freed from the great plague which had for so long a time vexed it. Now when Guerrino had returned to his hostel, and had betaken himself to repose somewhat on account of the weariness which had come over him, he found that he was unable to get any sleep by reason of a strange noise which he heard somewhere in the chamber. Wherefore, having risen from his couch, he perceived that there was something, I know not what, beating about inside a pot of honey, and not able to get out. So Guerrino opened the honey-pot, and saw within a large hornet, which was struggling with its wings without being able to free itself from the honey around it. Moved by pity, he took hold of the insect and let it go free. Now Zifroi the king had as yet given to Guerrino no reward for the two valiant deeds which he had wrought, but he was conscious in his heart that he would be acting in a very base fashion were he to leave such great valour without a rich guerdon, so he caused Guerrino to be called into his presence, and thus ad dressed him: 'Guerrino, by your noble deeds the whole of my kingdom is now free from the scourge, therefore I intend to reward you for the great benefits you have wrought in our behalf; but as I can conceive of no other gift which would be worthy and sufficient for your merits, I have determined to give you one of my two daughters to wife. But you must know that of these two sisters one is called Potentiana, and she has hair braided in such marvellous wise that it shines like golden coils. The other is called Eleuteria, and her tresses are of such texture that they flash brightly like the finest silver. Now if you can guess -- the maidens being closely veiled the while -- which is she of the golden tresses, I will give her to you as your wife, together with a mighty dowry of money; but if you fail in this, I will have your head struck off your shoulders.' Guerrino, when he heard this cruel ordeal which was proposed by Zifroi the king, was mightily amazed, and turning to him spake thus: 'O gracious sovereign! Is this a worthy guerdon for all the perils and fatigues I have undergone? Is this a reward for the strength I have spent on your behalf? Is this the gratitude you give me for having delivered your country from the scourge by which it was of late laid desolate? Alas! I did not merit this return, which of a truth is not a deed worthy of such a mighty king as yourself. But since this is your pleasure and I am helpless in your hands, you must do with me what pleases you best.' 'Now go,' said Zifroi, 'and tarry no longer in my presence. I give you till tomorrow to come to a decision.' When Guerrino went out of the king's presence full of sadness, he sought his dear companion, and repeated to him everything that the king had said. The unknown youth when he heard this seemed but little troubled thereanent, and said: 'Guerrino, be of good cheer, and do not despair, for I will deliver you from this great danger. Remember how a few days ago you set free the hornet which you found with its wings entangled in the honey. Now this same hornet will be the means of saving you, for to morrow, after the dinner at the palace, when you are put to the test, it will fly three times buzzing and humming round the head of her with the golden hair, and she with her white hands will drive it away. And you, when you shall have marked her do this action three times, may know for certain that this is she who is to be your wife.' 'Ah me!' cried Guerrino to his companion, 'When will the time come when I shall be able to make you some repayment for all the kind offices you have done me? Certes, were I to live for a thousand years, I should never have it in my power to recompense you the very smallest portion thereof. But that one, who is the rewarder of all, will in this matter make up for me in that respect in which I am wanting.' To this speech of Guerrino his companion made answer: 'Guerrino, my brother, there is in sooth no need for you to trouble yourself about making any return to me for the services I may have wrought you, but assuredly it is now full time that I should reveal to you, and that you should know clearly who I am. For in the same fashion as you delivered me from death, I on my part have desired to render to you the recompense you deserve so highly at my hands. Know, then, that I am the wild man of the woods whom you, with such loving compassion, set free from the prison-house of the king your father, and that I am called by name Rubinetto.' And then he went on to tell Guerrino by what means the fairy had brought him back into his former state of a fair young man. Guerrino, when he heard these words, stood like one bemused, and out of the great tenderness and pity he had in his heart he embraced Rubinetto, weeping the while, and kissed him, and claimed him as his own brother. And forasmuch as the day was now approaching for Guerrino to solve the question to be set to him by King Zifroi, the two repaired to the palace, where upon the king gave order that his two beloved daughters, Potentiana and Eleuteria, should be brought into the presence of Guerrino covered from head to foot with white veils, and this was straightway done. When the two daughters had come in so much alike in seeming that it was impossible to tell the one from the other, the king said: 'Now which of these two, Guerrino, do you will that I should give you to wife?' But Guerrino stood still in a state of doubt and hesitation, and answered no thing, but the king, who was mightily curious to see how the matter would end, pressed him amain to speak, crying out that time was flying, and that it behoved him to give his answer at once. To this Guerrino made answer: 'Most sacred majesty, time forsooth may be flying, but the end is not yet come to this day, which is the limit you have given me for my decision.' And all those standing by affirmed that Guerrino only claimed his right. When, therefore, the king and Guerrino and all the others had stood for a long time in expectation, behold! there suddenly appeared a hornet, which at once began to fly and buzz round the head and the fair face of Potentiana of the golden hair. And she, as if she were afeared of the thing, raised her hand to drive it away, and when she had done this three times the hornet flew away out of sight. But even after this sign Guerrino remained uncertain for a short time, although he had full faith in the words of Rubinetto, his well-beloved companion. Then said the king, 'How now, Guerrino, what do you say? The time has now come when you must put an end to this delay, and make up your mind.' And Guerrino, having looked well first at one and then at the other of the maidens, put his hand on the head of Potentiana, who had been pointed out to him by the hornet, and said, 'Gracious king, this one is your daughter of the golden tresses.' And when the maiden had raised her veil it was clearly proved that it was indeed she, greatly to the joy of all those who were present, and to the satisfaction of the people of the city. And Zifroi the king gave her to Guerrino as his wife, and they did not depart thence until Rubinetto had wedded the other sister. After this Guerrino declared himself to be the son of Filippomaria, King of Sicily, hearing which Zifroi was greatly rejoiced, and caused the marriages to be celebrated with the greatest pomp and magnificence. When this news came to the father and the mother of Guerrino they felt the greatest joy and contentment, seeing that they had by this time given up their son as lost. When he returned to Sicily with his dear wife and his well-loved brother and sister-in-law, they all received a gracious and loving welcome from his father and mother, and they lived a long time in peace and happiness, and he left behind him fair children as the heirs of his kingdom. This touching story told by Eritrea won the highest praise of all the hearers.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,Iron Hans,"Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm",Link to this story in a single file: Iron Hans.,"Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Eisenhans,' Kinder und Hausmärchen gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, 7th edition, vol. 2 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 136, pp. 242-50.","Once upon a time there was a king who had a great forest near his castle, full of all kinds of wild animals. One day he sent out a huntsman to shoot a deer, but the huntsman did not come back again. 'Perhaps he has had an accident,' said the king, and the following day he sent out two other huntsmen who were to search for him, but they did not return either. Then on the third day, he summoned all his huntsmen, and said, 'Search through the whole forest, and do not give up until you have found all three.' But none of these came home again either, nor were any of the hounds from the pack that they had taken with them ever seen again. From that time on, no one dared to go into these woods, and they lay there in deep quiet and solitude, and all that one saw from there was an occasional eagle or hawk flying overhead. This lasted for many years, when an unknown huntsman presented himself to the king seeking a position, and he volunteered to go into the dangerous woods. The king, however, did not want to give his permission, and said, 'It is haunted in there. I am afraid that you will do no better than did the others, and that you will never come out again.' The huntsman answered, 'Sir, I will proceed at my own risk. I know nothing of fear.' The huntsman therefore set forth with his dog into the woods. It was not long before the dog picked up a scent and wanted to follow it, but the dog had run only a few steps when it came to a deep pool, and could go no further. Then a naked arm reached out of the water, seized the dog, and pulled it under. When the huntsman saw that, he went back and got three men. They returned with buckets and baled out the water. When they could see to the bottom, there was a wild man lying there. His body was brown like rusty iron, and his hair hung over his face down to his knees. They bound him with cords and led him away to the castle. Everyone was greatly astonished at the wild man. The king had him put into an iron cage in his courtyard, forbidding, on pain of death, that the cage door be opened. The queen herself was to safeguard the key. From this time forth everyone could once again go safely into the woods. The king had a son of eight years. One day he was playing in the courtyard, and during his game his golden ball fell into the cage. The boy ran to the cage and said, 'Give me my ball.' 'Not until you have opened the door for me,' answered the man. 'No,' said the boy, 'I will not do that. The king has forbidden it,' and he ran away. The next day he came again and demanded his ball. The wild man said, 'Open my door,' but the boy would not do so. On the third day the king had ridden out hunting, and the boy went once more and said, 'Even if I wanted to, I could not open the door. I do not have the key.' Then the wild man said, 'It is under your mother's pillow. You can get it there.' The boy, who wanted to have his ball back, threw all caution to the wind, and got the key. The door opened with difficulty, and the boy pinched his finger. When it was open, the wild man stepped out, gave him the golden ball, and hurried away. The boy became afraid. He cried out and called after him, 'Oh, wild man, do not go away, or I shall get a beating.' The wild man turned around, picked him up, set him on his shoulders, and ran into the woods. When the king came home he noticed the empty cage and asked the queen how it had happened. She knew nothing about it, and looked for the key, but it was gone. She called the boy, but no one answered. The king sent out people to look for him in the field, but they did not find him. Then he could easily guess what had happened, and great sorrow ruled at the royal court. After the wild man had once more reached the dark woods, he set the boy down from his shoulders, and said to him, 'You will never again see your father and mother, but I will keep you with me, for you have set me free, and I have compassion for you. If you do what I tell you, it will go well with you. I have enough treasures and gold, more than anyone in the world.' He made a bed of moss for the boy, upon which he fell asleep. The next morning the man took him to a spring and said, 'Look, this golden spring is as bright and clear as crystal. You shall sit beside it, and take care that nothing falls into it, otherwise it will be polluted. I shall come every evening to see if you have obeyed my order.' The boy sat down at the edge of the spring, and saw how sometimes a golden fish and sometimes a golden snake appeared from within, and took care that nothing fell into it. As he was thus sitting there, his finger hurt him so fiercely that he involuntarily put it into the water. He quickly pulled it out again, but saw that it was completely covered with gold. However hard he tried to wipe the gold off again, it was to no avail. That evening Iron Hans came back, looked at the boy, and said, 'What has happened to the spring?' 'Nothing, nothing,' he answered, holding his finger behind his back, so the man would not be able to see it. But the man said, 'You have dipped your finger into the water. This time I will let it go, but be careful that you do not again let anything else fall in.' Very early the next morning the boy was already sitting by the spring and keeping watch. His finger hurt him again, and he rubbed it across his head. Then unfortunately a hair fell down into the spring. He quickly pulled it out, but it was already completely covered with gold. Iron Hans came, and already knew what had happened. 'You have let a hair fall into the spring,' he said. 'I will overlook this once more, but if it happens a third time then the spring will be polluted, and you will no longer be able to stay with me.' On the third day the boy sat by the spring and did not move his finger, however much it hurt him. But time passed slowly for him, and he looked at the reflection of his face in the water. While doing this he bent down lower and lower, wanting to look straight into his eyes, when his long hair fell from his shoulders down into the water. He quickly straightened himself up, but all the hair on his head was already covered with gold, and glistened like the sun. You can imagine how frightened the poor boy was. He took his handkerchief and tied it around his head, so that the man would not be able to see his hair. When the man came, he already knew everything, and said, 'Untie the handkerchief.' The golden hair streamed forth, and no excuse that the boy could offer was of any use. 'You have failed the test, and you can stay here no longer. Go out into the world. There you will learn what poverty is. But because you are not bad at heart, and because I mean well by you, I will grant you one thing: If you are ever in need, go into the woods and cry out, 'Iron Hans,' and then I will come and help you. My power is great, greater than you think, and I have more than enough gold and silver.' Then the prince left the woods, and walked by beaten and unbeaten paths on and on until at last he reached a great city. There he looked for work, but he was not able to find any, because he had not learned a trade by which he could make a living. Finally he went to the castle and asked if they would take him in. The people at court did not at all know how they would be able to use him, but they took a liking to him, and told him to stay. Finally the cook took him into service, saying that he could carry wood and water, and rake up the ashes. Once when no one else was at hand, the cook ordered him to carry the food to the royal table. Because he did not want them to see his golden hair, he kept his cap on. Nothing like this had ever before happened to the king, and he said, 'When you approach the royal table you must take your hat off.' 'Oh, sir,' he answered, 'I cannot. I have an ugly scab on my head.' Then the king summoned the cook and scolded him, asking him how he could take such a boy into his service. The cook was to send him away at once. However, the cook had pity on him, and let him trade places with gardener's boy. Now the boy had to plant and water the garden, hoe and dig, and put up with the wind and bad weather. Once in summer when he was working alone in the garden, the day was so hot that he took his hat off so that the air would cool him. As the sun shone on his hair it glistened and sparkled. The rays fell into the princess's bedroom, and she jumped up to see what it was. She saw the boy and called out to him, 'Boy, bring me a bouquet of flowers.' He quickly put on his cap, picked some wildflowers, and tied them together. As he was climbing the steps with them, the gardener met him and said, 'How can you take the princess a bouquet of such common flowers? Quick! Go and get some other ones, and choose only the most beautiful and the rarest ones.' 'Oh, no,' replied the boy, the wild ones have a stronger scent, and she will like them better.' When he got into the room, the princess said, 'Take your cap off. It is not polite to keep it on in my presence.' He again responded, 'I cannot do that. I have a scabby head.' She, however, took hold of his cap and pulled it off. His golden hair rolled down onto his shoulders, and it was a magnificent sight. He wanted to run away, but she held him by his arm, and gave him a handful of ducats. He went away with them, but he did not care about the gold. He took the gold pieces to the gardener, saying, 'I am giving these things to your children for them to play with.' The next day the princess called to him again, asking him to bring her a bouquet of wildflowers. When he went in with it, she immediately grabbed at his cap, and wanted to take it away from him, but he held it firmly with both hands. She again gave him a handful of ducats. He did not want to keep them, giving them instead to the gardener for his children to play with. On the third day it was no different. She was not able to take his cap away from him, and he did not want her gold. Not long afterwards, the country was overrun by war. The king gathered together his people, not knowing whether or not fight back against the enemy, who was more powerful and had a large army. Then the gardener's boy said, 'I am grown up, and I want to go to war as well. Just give me a horse.' The others laughed and said, 'After we have left, then look for one by yourself. We will leave one behind for you in the stable.' After they had left, he went into the stable, and led the horse out. It had a lame foot, and it limped higgledy-hop, higgledy-hop. Nevertheless he mounted it, and rode away into the dark woods. When he came to the edge of the woods, he called 'Iron Hans' three times so loudly that it sounded through the trees. The wild man appeared immediately, and said, 'What do you need?' 'I need a strong steed, for I am going to war.' 'That you shall have, and even more than you are asking for.' Then the wild man went back into the woods, and before long a stable-boy came out of the woods leading a horse. It was snorting with its nostrils, and could hardly be restrained. Behind them followed a large army of warriors, outfitted with iron armor, and with their swords flashing in the sun. The youth left his three-legged horse with the stable-boy, mounted the other horse, and rode at the head of the army. When he approached the battlefield, a large number of the king's men had already fallen, and before long the others would have to retreat. Then the youth galloped up with his iron army and attacked the enemies like a storm, beating down all who opposed him. They tried to flee, but the youth was right behind them, and did not stop, until not a single man was left. However, instead of returning to the king, he led his army on a roundabout way back into the woods, and then called for Iron Hans. 'What do you need?' asked the wild man. 'Take back your steed and your army, and give me my three-legged horse again.' It all happened just as he had requested, and he rode home on his three-legged horse. When the king returned to his castle, his daughter went to meet him, and congratulated him for his victory. 'I am not the one who earned the victory,' he said, 'but a strange knight who came to my aid with his army.' The daughter wanted to hear who the strange knight was, but the king did not know, and said, 'He pursued the enemy, and I did not see him again.' She asked the gardener where his boy was, but he laughed and said, 'He has just come home on his three-legged horse. The others have been making fun of him and shouting, 'Here comes our higgledy-hop back again.' They also asked him, 'Under what hedge have you been lying asleep all this time?' But he said, 'I did better than anyone else. Without me it would have gone badly.' And then they laughed at him all the more.' The king said to his daughter, 'I will proclaim a great festival. It shall last for three days, and you shall throw a golden apple. Perhaps the unknown knight will come.' When the festival was announced, the youth went out into the woods and called Iron Hans. 'What do you need?' he asked. 'To catch the princess's golden apple.' 'It is as good as done,' said Iron Hans. 'And further, you shall have a suit of red armor and ride on a spirited chestnut horse.' When the day came, the youth galloped up, took his place among the knights, and was recognized by no one. The princess came forward and threw a golden apple to the knights. He was the only one who caught it, and as soon as he had it, he galloped away. On the second day Iron Hans had outfitted him as a white knight, and had given him a white horse. Again he was the only one who caught the apple. Without lingering an instant, he galloped away with it. The king grew angry and said, 'That is not allowed. He must appear before me and tell me his name.' He gave the order that if the knight who caught the apple, were to go away again, they should pursue him, and if he would not come back willingly, they were to strike and stab at him. On the third day, he received from Iron Hans a suit of black armor and a black horse, and he caught the apple again. But when he was galloping away with it, the king's men pursued him, and one of them got so close to him that he wounded the youth's leg with the point of his sword. In spite of this he escaped from them, but his horse jumped so violently that his helmet fell from his head, and they could see that he had golden hair. They rode back and reported everything to the king. The next day the princess asked the gardener about his boy. 'He is at work in the garden. The strange fellow has been at the festival too. He came home only yesterday evening. And furthermore, he showed my children three golden apples that he had won.' The king had him summoned, and he appeared, again with his cap on his head. But the princess went up to him and took it off. His golden hair fell down over his shoulders, and he was so handsome that everyone was amazed. 'Are you the knight who came to the festival every day, each time in a different color, and who caught the three golden apples?' asked the king. 'Yes,' he answered, 'and here are the apples,' taking them out of his pocket, and returning them to the king. 'If you need more proof, you can see the wound that your men gave me when they were chasing me. But I am also the knight who helped you to your victory over your enemies.' 'If you can perform deeds like these then you are not a gardener's boy. Tell me, who is your father?' 'My father is a powerful king, and I have as much gold as I might need.' 'I can see,' said the king, 'that I owe you thanks. Can I do anything for you?' 'Yes,' he answered. 'You can indeed. Give me your daughter for my wife.' The maiden laughed and said, 'He does not care much for ceremony, but I already had seen from his golden hair that he was not a gardener's boy,' and then she went and kissed him. His father and mother came to the wedding, and were filled with joy, for they had given up all hope of ever seeing their dear son again. While they sitting at the wedding feast, the music suddenly stopped, the doors opened, and a proud king came in with a great retinue. He walked up to the youth, embraced him, and said, 'I am Iron Hans. I had been transformed into a wild man by a magic spell, but you have broken the spell. All the treasures that I possess shall belong to you.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,One Good Turn Deserves Another,Serbia,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Csedomille Mijatovies, Serbian Folk-Lore: Popular Tales, edited, with an introduction by W. Denton. (London: W. Isbister and Company, 1874.), pp. 189-99. Source (Internet Archive): Csedomille Mijatovies, Serbian Folk-Lore: Popular Tales, edited, with an introduction by W. Denton. (London: W. Isbister and Company, 1874.), pp. 189-99.","It happened once upon a time, many years ago, that a certain king went into his forest to hunt, when instead of the usual game he caught a wild man. This wild man the king had taken to his castle, and locked up, for safety, in a dungeon. This done, he put out a proclamation that whosoever should dare to set the wild man free should be put to death. As luck would have it, the dungeon where the creature was confined was just below the sleeping room of the king's youngest son. Now the wild man cried and groaned incessantly to be set free, and these unceasing lamentations at length so moved the young prince that one night he went down and opened the dungeon door, and let out the prisoner. Next morning the king and all the courtiers and servants were exceedingly astonished to hear no longer the usual sounds of wailing from the dungeon, and the king, suspecting something amiss, went down himself to see what had become of his captive. When he found the den empty he flew into a great passion, and demanded fiercely who had presumed to disobey his commands and let out the wild man. All the courtiers were so terrified at the sight of the king's angry countenance, that not one of them dared speak, not even to assert their innocence. However, the young prince, the king's son, went forward at last and confessed that the pitiful crying of the poor creature had so disturbed him day and night, that at length he himself had opened the door. When the king heard this, it was his turn to be sorry, for he found himself compelled to put his own son to death or give his own proclamation the lie. However, some of his old counselors, seeing how greatly the king was perplexed and troubled, came and assured his majesty that the proclamation would in reality be carried out if the prince, instead of being put to death, was simply banished from the kingdom forever. The king was very glad to find this way of getting out of the dilemma, and so ordered his son to leave the country, and never come back to it. At the same time he gave him many letters of recommendation to the king of a very distant kingdom, and directed one of the court servants to go with the young prince to wait upon him. Then the unhappy young prince and his servant started on their long journey. After traveling some time, the young prince became very thirsty, and, seeing a well not far off, went up to it to drink. However, there happened to be no bucket at the well, nor anything in which to draw water, though the well was pretty full. Seeing this, the young prince said to his servant, 'Hold me fast by the heels, and let me down into the pit that I may drink.' So saying, he bent over the well, and the servant let him down as he was directed. When the prince had quenched his thirst, and wished to be pulled back, the servant refused, saying, 'Now I can let you fall into the pit in a moment, and I shall do so unless you consent at once to change clothes and places with me. I will be the prince henceforth, and you shall be my servant.' The king's son, seeing that he had foolishly placed himself in the power of the servant, promised readily everything his servant asked, and begged only to be drawn up. But the faithless servant, without noticing his master's prayers, said roughly, 'You must make a solemn oath that you will not speak a word to anyone about the change we are going to make.' Of course, since the prince could not help himself, he took the oath at once, and then the servant drew him up, and they changed clothes. Then the wicked servant dressed himself in his master's fine clothes, mounted his master's horse, and rode forward on the journey, whilst the unfortunate prince, disguised in her servant's dress, walked beside him. In this way they went on until they came to the court of the king to which the exiled son had been recommended by his father. Faithful to his promise, the unfortunate prince saw his false servant received at the court with great honors as the son of a great king, whilst he himself all unnoticed, stood in the waiting room with the servants, and was treated by them with all familiarity as their equal. After having some time enjoyed to his heart's content the hospitalities the king lavished upon him, the false servant began to be afraid that his master's patience might be wearied out soon under all the indignities to which he was exposed, and that one day he might be tempted to forget his oath and proclaim himself in his true character. Filled with these misgivings, the wicked man thought over all possible ways by which he could do away with his betrayed master without any danger to himself. One day, he thought he had found out a way to do this, and took the first opportunity to carry out his cruel plan. Now you must know that the king at whose court this unhappy prince and the false servant were staying, kept in his gardens a great number of wild beasts fastened up in large cages. One morning, as the seeming prince was walking in these gardens with the king, he said suddenly, 'Your majesty has a large number of very fine wild beasts, and I admire them very much. I think, however, it is a pity that you keep them always fastened up, and spend so much money over their food. Why not send them under a keeper to find their own food in the forest? I dare say your majesty would be very glad if I recommended a man to you who could take them out in the morning and bring them back safely at night?' The king asked, 'Do you really think, prince, that you can find me such a man?' 'Of course, I can,' replied the cruel man unhesitatingly. 'Such a man is now in your majesty's court. I mean my own servant. Only call him and threaten that you will have his head cut off if he does not do it, and compel him to accept the task. I dare say he will try to excuse himself, and say the thing is impossible, but only threaten him with the loss of his head whether he refuses or fails. For my part, I am quite willing your majesty should have him put to death, if he disobeys.' When the king heard this, he summoned the disguised prince before him, and said, 'I hear that you can do wonders, that you are able to drive wild beasts out like cattle to find their own food in the forest, and bring them back safely at night into their cages. Therefore, I order you this morning to drive all my bears into the forest, and to bring them back again in the evening. If you don't do this, your head will pay for it; so beware!' The unlucky prince answered, 'I am not able to do this thing, so your majesty had better cut off my head at once.' But the king would not listen to him, only saying, 'We will wait until evening; then I shall surely have your head cut off unless you bring back all my bears safely to their cages.' Now nothing was left for the poor prince to do but open the cage doors and try his luck in driving the bears to the forest. The moment he opened the doors all the bears rushed out wildly, and disappeared quickly among the trees. The prince followed them sadly into the forest, and sat down on a fallen tree to think over his hard fortunes. As he sat thus, he began to weep bitterly, for he saw no better prospect before him than to lose his head at night. As he sat thus crying, a creature in form like a man, but covered all over with thick hair, came out of a neighboring thicket, and asked him what he was crying for. Then the prince told him all that had happened to him, and that as all the bears had run away he expected to be beheaded at night when he returned without them. Hearing this, the wild man gave him a little bell, and said kindly, 'Don't be afraid! Only take care of this bell, and when you wish the bears to return, just ring it gently, and they will all come back and follow you quietly into their cages.' And having said this he went away. When the sun began to go down, the prince rang the little bell gently, and, to his great joy, all the bears came dancing awkwardly around him, and let him lead them back to the gardens, following him like a flock of sheep, whilst he, pleased with his success, took out a flute and played little airs as he walked before them. In this way he was able to fasten them up again in their dens without the least trouble. Everyone at the court was astonished at this, and the false servant more than all the others, though he concealed his surprise, and said to the king, 'Your majesty sees now that I told you the truth. I am quite sure the man can manage the wolves just as well as the bears, if you only threaten him as before.' Thereupon, the next morning the king called the poor prince, and ordered him to lead out the wolves to find their food in the forest and to bring them back to their cages at night. 'Unless you do this,' said his majesty as before, 'you will lose your head.' The prince pleaded vainly the impossibility of his doing such a thing; but the king would not hear him, only saying, 'You may as well try, for whether you refuse or fail, you will certainly lose your head.' So the prince was obliged to open the cages of the wolves, and the moment he did this the wild animals sprang past him into the thickets just as the bears had done, and he, following them slowly, went and sat down to bewail his ill luck. Whilst he sat thus weeping, the wild man came out of the wood and asked him, just as he had done the day before, what he was crying for. The prince told him, whereupon the creature gave him another little bell, and said, 'When you want the wolves to come back, just ring this bell, and they will all come and follow you.' Having said this he went back into the wood, and left the prince alone. Just before it grew dark, the prince rang his bell, and to his great joy all the wolves came rushing up to him from all quarters of the forest, and followed him quietly back to their cages. Seeing this, the false servant advised the king to send out the birds also, and to threaten the disguised prince with the loss of his head if he failed to bring them also back in the evening. Accordingly the next morning the king ordered the prince to let out all the wild doves, and to bring them all safely to their different cages before night set in. The instant the poor young man opened the cage doors the wild doves rose like a cloud into the air, and vanished over the tops of the trees. So the prince went into the forest and sat down again on the fallen tree. As he sat there, thinking how hopeless a task he had now before him he could not help crying aloud and bewailing all his past misfortunes and present miserable fate. Hardly had he begun to lament, however, before the same wild man came from the bushes near him and asked what fresh trouble had befallen him. Then the prince told him. Thereupon the wild man gave him a third bell, saying, 'When you wish the wild doves to return to their cages you have only to ring this little bell.' And so it indeed happened, for the moment the prince began ringing softly, all the doves came flying about him, and he walked back to the palace gardens and shut them up in their different cages without the least trouble. Now, happily for the prince, the king had just at this time much more important business on his hands than finding his wild beasts and birds in food without paying for it. No less a matter, in fact, began to occupy him than finding a suitable husband for his daughter. For this purpose he sent out a proclamation that he would hold races during three days, and would reward the victor of each day with a golden apple. Whosoever should succeed in winning all three apples should have the young princess for his wife. Now this princess was far more beautiful than any other princess in the world, and an exceedingly great number of knights prepared to try and win her. This, the poor prince, in his servant's dress, watched with great dismay; for he had fallen deeply in love with the fair daughter of the king. So he puzzled himself day and night with plans how he, too, could try his luck in the great race. At last he determined to go into the forest and ask the wild man to help him. When the wild man heard the prince calling, he came out of the thicket, and listened to all he had to say about the matter. Seeing how much the prince was interested in the young princess, who was to be the prize of the victor, the wild man brought out some handsome clothes and a fine horse, and gave them to the prince, saying, 'When you start in the race, do not urge your horse too much, but at the end, when you are getting near the goal, spur him, and then you will be sure to win. Don't forget, however, to bring me the golden apple as soon as you receive it.' All came to pass just as the wild man had said. The prince won the apples the two first days; but as he disappeared as soon as he received them from the king, no one in the court recognized him in his fine attire, and all wondered greatly who the stranger knight might be. As for the king, he was more perplexed and curious than all the rest, and determined not to let the stranger escape so easily the third day. So he ordered a deep, wide ditch to be dug at the end of the race course, and a high wall built beyond it, thinking thus to stop the victor and find out who he was. The prince, hearing of the king's orders, and guessing the reason of them, went once again into the forest to ask help from his wild friend. The wild man, thereupon, brought out to him a still more beautiful racer, and a suit of splendid clothes; and, thus prepared, the prince took his place as before among the knights who were going to try for the prize. He won the gold apple this third time also; but, to the surprise of the king and the whole court, who hoped now to find out who he was, he made his horse spring lightly over the ditch, and the great wall, and vanished again in the forest. The king tried every way to find out who had won the three golden apples, but all in vain. At last, one day, the princess, walking in the gardens of the palace, met the prince disguised in his servant's dress, and saw the shining of the three apples which he carried in his bosom. Thereupon she ran at once to her father, and told him what she had seen, and the king, wondering very much, called the servant before him. Now the prince thought it time to put an end to all his troubles, and therefore told the king frankly all his misfortunes. He related how he had offended the king, his father, and been exiled for life; how his false servant had betrayed him; and how the wild man he had set free had come to help him out of the fearful snares the wicked servant had spread for him. After hearing all this, the king very gladly gave him the princess for wife, and ordered the false servant to be put to death immediately. As for the prince, he lived with his beautiful princess very happily for many years after this, and when the king, his father-in-law, died, he left to them both the kingdom.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,Story of Bulat the Brave Companion,Russia,NA,"Source (Wikimedia): Robert Steele, The Russian Garland of Fairy Tales: Being Russian Folk Legends Translated from a Collection of Chap-Books Made in Moscow (New York: Robert M. McBride and Company, 1916), pp. 131-41. Source (Internet Archive): Robert Steele, The Russian Garland of Fairy Tales: Being Russian Folk Legends Translated from a Collection of Chap-Books Made in Moscow (New York: Robert M. McBride and Company, 1916), pp. 131-41.","Then Ivan Tsarevich went into the royal stables to choose a good steed; and he thought that if he could find one on whose back he could lay his hand, without the horse's going on his knees, it would be just the one to suit him. So he looked in all the stalls, but found no horse to his mind, and he went his way with a heavy heart. Then he took his crossbow and arrows and roved about in the open fields to drive away his sadness. As he was walking thus along, he saw high in the air a swan, and he drew his bow and shot; but he missed the swan, and his arrow vanished from his sight. Then Ivan was sad at losing a favourite arrow, and with tears in his eyes he sought for it the whole field over. At last he came to a little hill, and heard a man's voice calling to him: 'Come hither, Ivan Tsarevich!' Ivan wondered to himself not a little at hearing a voice and seeing no one. But the voice called again; and Ivan went toward the spot whence it came, and remarked in the hill a little window, with an iron lattice; and at the window he saw a man, who beckoned to him with the hand. Ivan came up, and the man said to him: 'Why are you so sad, my good lad, Ivan Tsarevich?' 'How can I help grieving?' replied Ivan; 'I have lost my favourite arrow, and can find it nowhere, and my sorrow is the greater because I can not discover a steed to please me.' 'That is no great matter to grieve for,' said the man; 'I will get you a good horse, and give you back your arrow since it flew down to me here; but what will you give me for it?' 'Anything you ask,' replied Ivan, 'if you will give me what you promise.' 'Nay,' said the man, 'I want nothing more than that you will free me from this place.' 'And how and by whom were you caged up thus?' 'Your father imprisoned me here,' replied the man. 'I was a famous robber, and was called Bulat the Brave Companion. He was enraged against me, and ordered me to be taken and imprisoned; and here I have been confined for three-and-thirty years.' 'Hark ye, Bulat, Brave Companion,' said Ivan, 'I cannot set you free without my father's consent; were he to hear of it he would be wroth.' 'Fear not,' replied Bulat; 'your father will hear nothing; for as soon as you set me at liberty I shall go into other lands and not live here.' 'Well then,' said Ivan Tsarevich, 'I consent, only on condition that you give me back my arrow and tell me where I can find a trusty steed.' 'Go into the open fields,' said Bulat the Brave Companion, 'and there you will see three green oaks; and, on the ground under these oaks, an iron door, with a copper ring. Under the door is a stable, in which stands a good steed, shut in by twelve iron doors with twelve steel locks. Heave up this door, strike off the twelve steel locks, and open the twelve doors; there you will find a horse; mount him and come to me; I will give you back your arrow, and then you will let me out of this prison.' When Ivan Tsarevich heard this he went into the open fields, saw the three green oaks, and found the iron door with the copper ring. So he hove up the door, knocked off the twelve locks, and opened the twelve doors, and entered a stable, where he beheld a knightly steed and a suit of armour. Then Ivan Tsarevich laid his hand upon the horse, and the horse fell not upon his knees, but merely bent himself a little. And as soon as the horse saw a knight standing before him, he neighed loudly, and let Ivan saddle and bridle him. Ivan Tsarevich took the steed, the battle-axe, and sword, led the horse out of the stable, leaped into the Tcherkess saddle, and took the silken bridle in his white hand. Then Ivan wished to try his steed, and struck him on the flank: the horse chafed his bit, and rose from the ground, and away he went over the tall forests and under the flying clouds, left hill and dale beneath his feet, covered small streams with his tail, bounded over wide rivers and marshes. And so at last Ivan came to Bulat the Brave Companion, and said with a loud voice: 'Now give me back my arrow, Bulat my brave fellow, and I will let you out of your cage.' So Bulat instantly gave him back his arrow, and Ivan set him free. 'I thank you, Ivan Tsarevich,' said Bulat, 'for giving me freedom. I will, in return, render you good service; whenever you are in any difficulty, and want me, only say: 'Where is my Bulat, the Brave Companion?' and I will instantly come to you and serve you faithfully in your need.' So saying, Bulat cried with a loud voice: Then Bulat mounted his horse and galloped off, exclaiming: 'Farewell, then, for the present, Ivan Tsarevich!' Ivan now mounted his good steed and rode to his father, and with tears in his eyes, took leave of him; then, taking with him his squire, he rode forth into foreign lands. And after they had ridden for some time they came to a wood; the day was bright and hot, and Ivan Tsarevich grew thirsty. So they wandered all about the wood, seeking water, but could find none. At length they found a deep well, in which there was some water; and Ivan said to his squire: 'Go down the well and fetch me up some water; I will hold you by a rope to prevent you being drowned.' 'Nay, Ivan Tsarevich,' said the squire, 'I am heavier than you, and you cannot hold me up; you had better descend, for I can support you.' So Ivan followed his squire's advice, and let himself down into the well. And when Ivan had drunk enough, he told the squire to draw him up; but the squire answered: 'Nay, I will not draw you out until you give me your word in writing that you are my servant and I am your master, and that my name is Ivan Tsarevich; if you refuse this I will drown you in the well.' 'My dear squire,' cried Ivan, 'do not drown me, but draw me up, and I will do all you desire.' 'No, I don't believe you,' said the squire; 'swear me an oath.' So Ivan swore that he would be true. Thereupon the squire drew him out, and Ivan Tsarevich took a piece of paper, wrote the writing, and gave it to the squire. Then he took off his own cloak, and exchanged it for the squire's, and they went on their way. After some days they came to the kingdom of the Tsar Panthui. And when the Tsar heard of the arrival of Ivan Tsarevich he went out to meet him; and, greeting the false Tsarevich, he took him by the white hands, conducted him into his marble halls, seated him at his oaken table, and they feasted and made merry. Then Tsar Panthui asked the false tsarevich what had brought him to his kingdom, and he answered: 'My gracious lord, I am come to sue for the hand of your daughter, the fair Princess Tseria.' 'Gladly will I give you my daughter to wife,' replied Panthui. In the course of their talk the false Ivan said to the Tsar Panthui: 'Let my servant, I pray, do the lowest work in the kitchen, for he has greatly annoyed me on my journey.' So the Tsar immediately commanded Ivan to be set to do the most menial work, whilst his squire feasted and made merry with the Tsar. A few days after this an army was seen marching against the kingdom of Panthui, threatening to lay it waste and take the Tsar prisoner. Thereupon Panthui called the false Ivan and said: 'My dear future son-in-law, a hostile army has come to attack my dominions: drive the enemy back and I will give you my daughter, but only on this condition.' And the squire answered; 'Well and good, I will do as you desire; but only by night -- in the day I have no luck in fight.' As soon as night drew on and everyone in the castle had gone to rest, the false Ivan went out into the open court, called to him the true Tsarevich, and said: 'Ivan Tsarevich, be not angry with me for taking your place; forget it all, do me one service, and drive the enemy from this kingdom.' And Ivan answered: 'Go and lie down to sleep all shall be accomplished.' Then the squire went and lay down to sleep, and Ivan cried with a loud voice: 'Where is my Bulat, the Brave Companion?' In an instant Bulat stood before him, and asked: 'What service do you require now? 'What is your need? Tell me forthwith.' Then Ivan Tsarevich told him his need, and Bulat desired him to saddle his horse and put on his armour; and then cried with a loud voice: As soon as they reached the hostile army, Bulat said to Ivan: 'Fall thou upon the enemy on the right, I will attack them on the left.' And so they began to mow down this mighty army with the sword, and to trample them down with their horses' hoofs; and in an hour's time they had stretched on the earth a hundred thousand men. Then the hostile King fled with the small remains of his army back into his own kingdom, and Ivan Tsarevich returned with Bulat the Brave Companion to the castle of the Tsar Panthui, unsaddled his steed, led him into the stable, and gave him white wheat to eat. After that he took leave of Bulat the Brave Companion, went back into the kitchen, and lay down to sleep. Early the next morning the Tsar went out on to his balcony, and looked forth over the country where the hostile army lay; and when he saw that it was all cut down and destroyed, he called to him the false Ivan, and thanked him for having saved his kingdom; he rewarded him with a rich present and promised soon to give him his daughter to wife. After a fortnight the same Tsar marched again with a fresh army and besieged the city. And the Tsar Panthui in terror called again upon the false Ivan and said: 'My dear friend, Ivan Tsarevich, save me once more from the enemy, and drive them from my kingdom, and I will immediately give you my daughter to wife.' And so it all fell out again exactly as before, and the enemy were quite driven away by Ivan and Bulat the Brave. The hostile king, however, soon returned to attack Tsar Panthui a third time, and over and over again he was driven back, until at last he was himself killed. Then Ivan and Bulat the Brave Companion went back, unsaddled their steeds, and put them into the stable. Thereupon Bulat took leave of Ivan Tsarevich, and said: 'You will never see me more.' With this he mounted his horse and rode forth; and Ivan went into the kitchen and lay down to sleep. Early the next morning the Tsar went again on to his balcony, and looked forth over the country where the hostile army had been; and when he saw that it was all destroyed, he sent for his future son-in-law and said: 'Now I will give you my daughter to wife.' Then all the preparations were made for the wedding; and a few days after, the squire married the fair Princess Tseria; and when they had returned from church, and were sitting at table, Ivan Tsarevich begged the head cook to let him go into the banquet hall and see his master and his bride seated at the table. So the cook consented, and gave him a change of dress. When Ivan entered the royal hall he stationed himself behind the other guests and gazed at his squire and the fair Tseria. But the princess espied Ivan, and recognised him instantly; then she jumped up from the table, took him by the hand, led him to the Tsar, and said: 'This is the true bridegroom and the saviour of your kingdom, and not yon man who was betrothed to me.' Then the Tsar Panthui asked his daughter what it all meant, and begged her to explain the mystery. And when the Princess Tsaria had related to him all that had passed, Ivan Tsarevich was placed at the table beside her, and his squire was shot at the gate for his treacherous conduct. Ivan married the Princess, and returned with her to his father's kingdom. Tsar Chodor placed the crown upon his head, and Ivan mounted the throne, and ruled over the kingdom.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,The Hairy Man,Hungary,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Andrew Lang, The Crimson Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1903), pp. 22-28. Source (Internet Archive): Andrew Lang, The Crimson Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1903), pp. 22-28.","Somewhere or other, but I don't know where, there lived a king who owned two remarkably fine fields of rape, but every night two of the rape heaps were burnt down in one of the fields. The king was extremely angry at this, and sent out soldiers to catch whoever had set fire to the ricks; but it was all of no use -- not a soul could they see. Then he offered nine hundred crowns to anyone who caught the evildoer, and at the same time ordered that whoever did not keep proper watch over the fields should be killed; but though there were a great many people, none seemed able to protect the fields. The king had already put ninety-nine people to death, when a little swineherd came to him who had two dogs; one was called 'Psst,' and the other 'Hush'; and the boy told the king that he would watch over the ricks. When it grew dark he climbed up on the top of the fourth rick, from where he could see the whole field. About eleven o'clock he thought he saw someone going to a rack and putting a light to it. 'Just you wait,' thought he, and called out to his dogs: 'Hi! Psst, Hush, catch him!' But Psst and Hush had not waited for orders, and in five minutes the man was caught. Next morning he was brought bound before the king, who was so pleased with the boy that he gave him a thousand crowns at once. The prisoner was all covered with hair, almost like an animal; and altogether he was so curious to look at that the king locked him up in a strong room and sent out letters of invitation to all the other kings and princes asking them to come and see this wonder. That was all very well; but the king had a little boy of ten years old who went to look at the hairy man also, and the man begged so hard to be set free that the boy took pity on him. He stole the key of the strong room from his mother and opened the door. Then he took the key back, but the hairy man escaped and went off into the world. Then the kings and princes began to arrive one after another, and all were most anxious to see the hairy man; but he was gone! The king nearly burst with rage and with the shame he felt. He questioned his wife sharply, and told her that if she could not find and bring back the hairy man he would put her in a hut made of rushes and burn her there. The queen declared she had had nothing to do with the matter; if her son had happened to take the key it had not been with her knowledge. So they fetched the little prince and asked him all sorts of questions, and at last he owned that he had let the hairy man out. The king ordered his servants to take the boy into the forest and to kill him there, and to bring back part of his liver and lungs. There was grief all over the palace when the king's command was known, for he was a great favourite. But there was no help for it, and they took the boy out into the forest. But the man was sorry for him, and shot a dog and carried pieces of his lungs and liver to the king, who was satisfied, and did not trouble himself any more. The prince wandered about in the forest and lived as best he could for five years. One day he came upon a poor little cottage in which was an old man. They began to talk, and the prince told his story and sad fate. Then they recognised each other, for the old fellow was no other than the hairy man whom the prince had set free, and who had lived ever since, in the forest. The prince stayed here for two years; then he wished to go further. The old man begged him hard to stay, but he would not, so his hairy friend gave him a golden apple out of which came a horse with a golden mane, and a golden staff with which to guide the horse. The old man also gave him a silver apple out of which came the most beautiful hussars and a silver staff; and a copper apple from which he could draw as many foot soldiers as ever he wished, and a copper staff. He made the prince swear solemnly to take the greatest care of these presents, and then he let him go. The boy wandered on and on till he came to a large town. Here he took service in the king's palace, and as no one troubled themselves about him he lived quietly on. One day news was brought to the king that he must go out to war. He was horribly frightened for he had a very small army, but he had to go all the same. When they had all left, the prince said to the housekeeper: 'Give me leave to go to the next village -- I owe a small bill there, and I want to go and pay it'; and as there was nothing to be done in the palace the housekeeper gave him leave. When he got beyond the town he took out his golden apple, and when the horse sprang out he swung himself into the saddle. Then he took the silver and the copper apples, and with all these fine soldiers he joined the king's army. The king saw them approach with fear in his heart, for he did not know if it might not be an enemy; but the prince rode up, and bowed low before him. 'I bring your majesty reinforcements,' said he. The king was delighted, and all dread of his enemy at once disappeared. The princesses were there too, and they were very friendly with the prince and begged him to get into their carriage so as to talk to them. But he declined, and remained on horseback, as he did not know at what moment the battle might begin; and whilst they were all talking together the youngest princess, who was also the loveliest, took off her ring, and her sister tore her handkerchief in two pieces, and they gave these gifts to the prince. Suddenly the enemy came in sight. The king asked whether his army or the prince's should lead the way; but the prince set off first and with his hussars he fought so bravely that only two of the enemy were left alive, and these two were only spared to act as messengers. The king was overjoyed and so were his daughters at this brilliant victory. As they drove home they begged the prince to join them, but he would not come, and galloped off with his hussars. When he got near the town he packed his soldiers and his fine horse all carefully into the apple again, and then strolled into the town. On his return to the palace he was well scolded by the housekeeper for staying away so long. Well, the whole matter might have ended there; but it so happened that the younger princess had fallen in love with the prince, as he had with her. And as he had no jewels with him, he gave her the copper apple and staff. One day, as the princesses were talking with their father, the younger one asked him whether it might not have been their servant who had helped him so much. The king was quite angry at the idea; but, to satisfy her, he ordered the servant's room to be searched. And there, to everyone's surprise, they found the golden ring and the half of the handkerchief. When these were brought to the king he sent for the prince at once and asked if it had been he who had come to their rescue. 'Yes, your majesty, it was I,' answered the prince. 'But where did you get your army?' 'If you wish to see it, I can show it you outside the city walls.' And so he did; but first he asked for the copper apple from the younger princess, and when all the soldiers were drawn up there were such numbers that there was barely room for them. The king gave him his daughter and kingdom as a reward for his aid, and when he heard that the prince was himself a king's son his joy knew no bounds. The prince packed all his soldiers carefully up once more, and they went back into the town. Not long after there was a grand wedding; perhaps they may all be alive still, but I don't know.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,The Iron Man,Germany,"Sommer's source: 'Oral, from Gutenberg.'","Source (books.google.com): Emil Sommer, 'Der eiserne Mann,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräche aus Sachsen und Thüringen, vol. 1 (Halle: Eduard Anton, 1846), pp. 86-91. Source (Internet Archive): Emil Sommer, 'Der eiserne Mann,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräche aus Sachsen und Thüringen, vol. 1 (Halle: Eduard Anton, 1846), pp. 86-91.","There was a king who conducted a great hunt, and on this hunt his shooters captured a man in the shape of ordinary people, but made entirely of iron. The king was overjoyed with this marvel, and in front of his castle he had a cage made with high iron bars. He locked the iron man inside then ordered that on the penalty of death no one should release him. One morning not long afterward it happened that the young prince was playing ball in the courtyard. The iron man came up to the bars and played with a ball that when thrown to the ground bounced much higher than the prince's ball. Furthermore, it was much more beautiful, being made entirely of gold. The boy asked for the ball very politely. The iron man motioned for him to come closer to the bars, then said quietly, 'Unlock the gate, and I'll give you the ball.' The boy crept quietly up to the gate and opened it. Then the iron man jumped out, gave him the ball, and ran across the field into the woods. When the king discovered that the iron man had escaped he swore an oath that whoever had opened the gate should die. Then his dear little son came to him and admitted that he had released the iron man. The king was shocked that he had sworn an oath to kill his own son, but he would have to keep his word. He sent two huntsmen into the woods with his son, where they were to kill him. However, the huntsmen pitied the beautiful boy, and they set him free, telling him in God's name to run as far as the heaven is blue. Then they shot a wild pig, cut out its eyes and its heart, which they took to the king, telling him they were the eyes and the heart of his son. The boy wandered about the forest the entire day, and when evening came he sat down on a tree stump. Sobbing, he feared that wild animals would eat him come nightfall. Then suddenly the iron man appeared before him, stroked his hair kindly with his iron hand, and said, 'Fear not, my boy. You helped me, and I shall help you as well. I shall command the animals in my forest to do you no harm. Tomorrow morning I shall lead you out of these woods to the castle of a mighty king. You are to play with the golden ball before the princess's window, and with time you shall become an even greater king than is your father.' Then the boy lay down peacefully on the green moss and fell fast asleep. The golden stars glided quietly across the heaven in order not to awaken him. When the dear sun arose and smiled upon him, he jumped up. The iron man was already there, and together they walked through the woods. Leaving the forest, they came to a magnificent castle. The iron man showed the boy the princess's window, saying, 'When the princess sees the golden ball she will want to have it. You must not give it to her until she allows you to sleep for one night in her bedroom. After you have done this, come to me again.' And it happened just as the iron man had predicted. The boy had scarcely begun playing with the golden ball before the window when the princess came outside. She was a pretty little girl, and said, 'Oh, that is a beautiful ball that you have! Give it to me and I'll do a favor for you.' 'What I want,' said the boy, 'is to sleep in your bedroom tonight.' 'I'll ask my father if I can allow that,' said the princess, and ran back into the castle. She came back soon and said, 'Father says that I can allow it, if you will behave yourself properly.' Then they played with the ball the rest of the day, and in the evening they went into the maiden's bedroom. She lay down on her silken bed, but he lay down on the floor. However, because the floor was so hard, the girl said, 'Wait; I'll give you a bed so you can be more comfortable.' Then she gave him a bed, keeping one for herself. They said 'Good night' and slept quietly until morning. In the morning the boy took leave and went back into the woods, where he told the iron man everything that had happened. He stayed with the iron man an entire year, and every day he grew larger and better looking. At the end of the year the iron man gave him a ball made of transparent crystal. When one threw it into the air and the sun shone through it, it looked like clear water. The iron man told him to return to the castle and to play with it before the princess's window. While he was thus playing with the ball the princess came to her window. She hardly recognized him, because he had grown so much. She was too shy to go to him and ask for the ball, so she asked her father to go to the handsome youth and request that he give the ball to her. However, the father thought, 'What does this lost boy want at my castle?' He had the boy captured, gave the ball to his daughter, then sent the prince to the kitchen where for many weeks he had to do hard work as a kitchen boy, until finally he was able to escape. He ran back into the woods and complained to the iron man as to how badly things had gone for him. The iron man comforted him, saying, 'Fear not; everything will be all right. A mighty army is advancing against the king. I shall give you a horse and armor. Thus outfitted you are to join the king's army.' Then he led him to a hollow mountain wherein there were many thousands of horses and many thousands of battle outfits. With his iron hand he outfitted the youth with armor and weapons, and gave him good advice as well. With this the prince entered a great battle, where he proved himself to be the bravest of all the knights. Through him the battle was won, and he saved the king's life as well. But he too was wounded, and the king bound his wound with his own scarf, then ordered his servants to care for him. However, the prince rode away to the wild man in the woods, who was pleased that everything had gone so well. He gave him a ball, much more beautiful than the other two, and made of red ruby. With this, and dressed in his ordinary clothes, he returned to the princess's window. When she saw the ball she was inconsolable that she could not have it. Meanwhile the king had returned home with his army. The princess ran to him, kissed him repeatedly, then said, 'Since you won the great battle and because I love you so much, I want to ask you for something, and you cannot say no.' The king promised to do whatever she asked. 'The handsome youth is here again,' she said. 'He has a ball of red ruby, and he'll give it to me if I give him what he wants. You must not do him any harm.' However, the youth would not accept any gold or other precious things for the ball, insisting instead that he be allowed to sleep the coming night with the princess in her bedroom. The king agreed to this. However, when the two were asleep the king crept into the bedroom, intending to murder the prince. To his great surprise he saw that his own scarf was wrapped around the prince's arm. He recognized his rescuer, then awakened the two of them and asked if they wanted to become husband and wife. They happily agreed to this and were married the following morning. That evening they went together into the woods to the iron man. They told him of their happiness and asked him to move into the castle with them. However, he told them that he had to remain in his woods and look after his animals. He asked them to visit him often, which they faithfully did.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,The King's Wild Man,"Germany, Ludwig Bechstein",This legend combines two folktale types: 402 The Wild Man As Helper and 300 The Dragonslayer.,"Source (books.google.com): Ludwig Bechstein, 'Des Königs Abenteuer, Deutsches Sagenbuch (Leipzig: Verlag von Georg Wigand, 1853), no. 444, pp. 376-77. Source (Internet Archive): Ludwig Bechstein, 'Des Königs Abenteuer, Deutsches Sagenbuch (Leipzig: Verlag von Georg Wigand, 1853), no. 444, pp. 376-77.","On the outer wall of the Saint George Church at Mühlhausen one can still see numerous stone monuments that attest to the foundation of the city. Among these is one depicting an amazing legend. Ages ago there was a king in Thüringen. One day while hunting, his hounds jumped around a tree in a thicket and could not be held back. He had one of his servants climb up the tree trunk, which was hollow, to see what was inside causing his pack to bark. A small wild man was inside, and the king's men fetched him out. The king was delighted with this wild man and had him sit next to himself in the coach. He forthwith called an end to the hunt. He named the captured wild man Noah and confined him in a crypt. The king himself waited on him and cared for him. One time when the king had to be away, his son George was playing ball in the castle, and the ball fell down through a hole in the crypt. The little prince called down: 'Wild man Noah, give me back my ball!' The wild man answered: 'I cannot give you your ball. If I were to throw it out, it would fly so far that you would never find it. Instead, go into your father's chamber, fetch the key, and open the door for me. Then I will give you your ball.' The prince fetched the key from his father's chamber, for without the key no one could open the crypt. He opened the crypt, and the wild man came out, gave him his ball, and said: 'In my need you have helped me, and if you are ever in need just go into the woods and call for me, and I will help you as well.' Soon afterward the king returned home, and his first step was to look after his wild man. How alarmed he was to discover that the crypt was empty, and he immediately suspected that it was his son who had freed the wild man. He summoned him and asked: 'George, did you take the key, open the crypt, and let the wild man Noah out?' The little prince honestly confessed to what he had done. The king at once disowned his prince, for his wild man was dearer to him than anything else. The prince sadly left his father's house and wandered aimlessly about in poverty until finally he came upon a shepherd. The shepherd suspected at once that the lad was not from a lower class and took him in. He taught him what he needed to know to help with the herd. George the sheepherder came to know a beautiful girl, and as he was now coming of age, he asked her to marry him. At that time a terrible beast called a lindorm had taken over the region. It demanded a human sacrifice every year. According to ancient belief, this beast was a magical curse. If it did not receive its sacrifice immediately it roared like a thunderstorm, threatening to destroy everything in the land. The time came when the people were called together to draw lots determining who would be the lindorm's next sacrifice. Sheepherder George's bride-to-be drew the losing lot. He remembered what the wild man had promised him. He stepped forward and asked that the sacrifice be delayed, for he intended to kill the lindorm. He quickly ran into the woods and called on the wild man Noah for help and support. The wild man appeared before him and gave him a white horse and a sword, then told him to put on a white robe, mount the white horse, point his sword foreward, and charge against the monster. The monster would hungrily open wide its jaws, and George could penetrate its throat with his sword. And so it happened. Thus George's bride, as well as the entire land, were freed from the monster. The people cheered with joy, happiness ruled throughout the land, and George was dubbed a knight. Everyone now wanted to know more about George's origins. He confessed that he was the king's son and related how he had become a sheepherder. He was told that his father had died, so he could return home safely and assume rule over the kingdom. Thus a king's son became a sheepherder, the sheepherder became a knight, and the knight became a king. Now that George had taken over the kingdom, he traveled throughout the land familiarizing himself with his realm and seeking adventure. He came to a small settlement surrounding a mill. The community had no church. The young king, wanting to give thanks to God, had a church built in this settlement. The church still carries his name, George, as its founder. The builder of the church carved the entire history into a stone monument. And that is how the city of Mühlhausen had its beginning.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,The Tsarevich and Dyad'ka,Russia,"The pioneering Russian folklorist's name is variously spelled in English, for example: Afanasyev, Afanasief, Afanasiev, or Afanas'ev.","Source (books.google.com): Alexander Afanasyef, Russian Folk-Tales, translated by Leonard A. Magnus (New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1916), pp. 137-44. Source (Internet Archive): Alexander Afanasyef, Russian Folk-Tales pp. 137-44.","Once upon a time, in a certain kingdom, in a city of yore, there was a king who had a dwarf son. The tsarevich was fair to behold, and fair of heart. But his father was not good: he was always tortured with greedy thoughts, how he should derive greater profit from his country and extract heavier taxes. One day he saw an old peasant passing by with sable, marten, beaver, and fox skins; and he asked him: 'Old man! whence do you come?' 'Out of the village, father. I serve the wood-sprite with the iron hands, the cast-iron head, and the body of bronze.' 'How do you catch so many animals?' 'The wood-sprite lays traps, and the animals are stupid and go into them.' 'Listen, old man; I will give you gold and wine. Show me where you put the traps.' So the old man was persuaded, and he showed the king, who instantly had the wood-sprite arrested and confined in a narrow tower. And in all the wood-sprite's forests the king himself laid traps. The wood-sprite forester sat in his iron tower inside the royal garden, and looked out through the window. One day, the tsarevich, with his nurses and attendants and very many faithful servant-maids, went into the garden to play. He passed the door, and the wood-sprite cried out to him: 'Tsarevich, if you will set me free, I will later on help you.' 'How shall I do this?' 'Go to your mother and weep bitterly. Tell her: 'Please, dear Mother, scratch my head.' Lay your head on her lap. Wait for the proper instant, take the key of my tower out of her pocket, and set me free.' Ivan Tsarevich did what the wood-sprite had told him, took the key; then he ran into the garden, made an arrow, put the arrow on a catapult, and shot it far away. And all the nurses and serving-maids ran off to find the arrow. Whilst they were all running after the arrow Ivan Tsarevich opened the iron tower and freed the wood-sprite. The wood-sprite escaped and destroyed all the king's traps. Now the king could not catch any more animals, and became angry, and attacked his wife for giving the key away and setting the wood-sprite free. He assembled all the boyars, generals, and senators to pronounce the queen's doom, whether she should have her head cut off, or should be merely banished. So the tsarevich was greatly grieved; he was sorry for his mother, and he acknowledged his guilt to his father. Then the king was very sorry, and didn't know what to do to his son. He asked all the boyars and generals, and said: 'Is he to be hanged or to be put into a fortress?' 'No, your majesty!' the boyars, and generals, and senators answered in one voice. 'The scions of kings are not slain, and are not put in prison; they are sent out into the white world to meet whatever fate God may send them.' So Ivan Tsarevich was sent out into the white world, to wander in the four directions, to suffer the midday winds and the stress of the winter and the blasts of the autumn; and was given only a birch-bark wallet and Dyad'ka, his servant. So the king's son set out with his servant into the open fields. They went far and wide over hill and dale. Their way may have been long, and it may have been short; and they at last reached a well. Then the tsarevich said to his servant, 'Go and fetch me water.' 'I will not go!' said the servant. So they went further on, and they once more came to a well. 'Go and fetch me water -- I feel thirsty,' the tsarevich asked him a second time. 'I will not go.' Then they went on until they came to a third well. And the servant again would not fetch any water. And the tsarevich had to do it himself. When the tsarevich had gone down into the well the servant shut down the lid, and said: 'You be my servant, and I will be the tsarevich; or I will never let you come out!' The tsarevich could not help himself, and was forced to give way; and signed the bond to his servant in his own blood. Then they changed clothes and rode on, and came to another land, where they went to the tsar's court, the servant-man first, and the king's son after. The servant-man sat as a guest with the tsar, ate and drank at his table. One day he said: 'Mighty tsar, send my servant into the kitchen!' So they took the tsarevich as scullion, let him draw water and hew wood. But very soon the tsarevich was a far finer cook than all the royal chefs. Then the tsar noticed and began to like his young scullion, and gave him gold. So all the cooks became envious and sought some opportunity of getting rid of the tsarevich. One day he made a cake and put it into the oven, so the cooks put poison in and spread it over the cake. And the tsar sat at table, and the cake was taken up. When the tsar was going to take it, the cook came running up, and cried out: 'Your majesty, do not eat it!' And he told all imaginable lies of Ivan Tsarevich. Then the king summoned his favourite hound and gave him a bit of the cake. The dog ate it and died on the spot. So the tsar summoned the prince and cried out to him in a thundering voice: 'How dared you bake me a poisoned cake! You shall be instantly tortured to death!' 'I know nothing about it; I had no idea of it, your majesty!' the tsarevich answered. 'The other cooks were jealous of your rewarding me, and so they have deliberately contrived the plot.' Then the tsar pardoned him, and he made him a horse-herd. One day, as the tsarevich was taking his drove to drink, he met the wood-sprite with the iron hands, the cast-iron head, and the body of bronze. 'Good-day, tsarevich; come with me, visit me.' 'I am frightened that the horses will run away.' 'Fear nothing. Only come.' His hut was quite near. The wood-sprite had three daughters, and he asked the eldest: 'What will you give Ivan Tsarevich for saving me out of the iron tower?' 'I will give him this tablecloth.' With the tablecloth Ivan Tsarevich went back to his horses, which were all gathered together, turned it round and asked for any food that he liked, and he was served, and meat and drink appeared at once. Next day he was again driving his horses to the river, and the wood-sprite appeared once more. 'Come into my hut!' So he went with him. And the wood-sprite asked his second daughter, 'What will you give Ivan Tsarevich for saving me out of the iron tower?' 'I will give him this mirror, in which he can see all he will.' And on the third day the third daughter gave him a pipe, which he need only put to his lips, and music, and singers, and musicians would appear before him. And it was a merry life that Ivan Tsarevich now led. He had good food and good meat, knew whatever was going on, saw everything, and he had music all day long: no man was better. And the horses! They -- it was really wonderful -- were always well fed, well set up, and shapely. Now, the fair tsarevna had been noticing the horse-herd for a long time, for a very long time, for how could so fair a maiden overlook the beautiful boy? She wanted to know why the horses he kept were always so much shapelier and statelier than those which the other herds looked after. 'I will one day go into his room,' she said, 'and see where the poor devil lives.' As everyone knows, a woman's wish is soon her deed. So one day she went into his room, when Ivan Tsarevich was giving his horses drink. And there she saw the mirror, and looking into that she knew everything. She took the magical cloth, the mirror, and the pipe. Just about then there was a great disaster threatening the tsar. The seven-headed monster, Idolishche, was invading his land and demanding his daughter as his wife. 'If you will not give her to me willy, I will take her nilly!' he said. And he got ready all his immense army, and the tsar fared ill. And he issued a decree throughout his land, summoned the boyars and knights together, and promised any who would slay the seven-headed monster half of his wealth and half his realm, and also his daughter as his wife. Then all the princes and knights and the boyars assembled together to fight the monster, and amongst them Dyad'ka. The horse-herd sat on a pony and rode behind. Then the wood-sprite came and met him, and said: 'Where are you going, Ivan Tsarevich?' 'To the war.' 'On this sorry nag you will not do much, and still less if you go in your present guise. Just come and visit me.' He took him into his hut and gave him a glass of vodka. Then the king's son drank it. 'Do you feel strong?' asked the wood-sprite. 'If there were a log there fifty puds, I could throw it up and allow it to fall on my head without feeling the blow.' So he was given a second glass of vodka. 'How strong do you feel now?' 'If there were a log here one hundred puds, I could throw it higher than the clouds on high.' Then he was given a third glass of vodka. 'How strong are you now?' 'If there were a column stretching from heaven to earth, I should turn the entire universe round.' So the wood-sprite took vodka out of another bottle and gave the king's son yet more drink, and his strength was increased sevenfold. They went in front of the house; and he whistled loud, and a black horse rose out of the earth, and the earth trembled under its hoofs. Out of its nostrils it breathed flames, columns of smoke rose from its ears, and as its hoofs struck the ground sparks arose. It ran up to the hut and fell on its knees. 'There is a horse!' said the wood-sprite. And he gave Ivan Tsarevich a sword and a silken whip, So Ivan Tsarevich rode out on his black steed against the enemy. On the way he met his servant, who had climbed a birch tree and was trembling for fear. Ivan Tsarevich gave him a couple of blows with his whip, and started out against the hostile host. He slew many people with the sword, and yet more did his horse trample down. And he cut off the seven heads of the monster. Now Marfa Tsarevna was seeing all this, because she kept looking in the glass, and so learned all that was going on. After the battle she rode out to meet Ivan Tsarevich, and asked him: 'How can I thank you?' 'Give me a kiss, fair maiden!' The tsarevna was not ashamed, pressed him to her very heart, and kissed him so loud that the entire host heard it! Then the king's son struck his horse one blow and vanished. Then he returned to his room, and sat there as though nothing had happened, whilst his servant boasted that he had gone to the battle and slain the foe. So the tsar awarded him great honours, promised him his daughter, and set a great feast. But the tsarevna was not so stupid, and said she had a severe headache. What was the future son-in-law to do? 'Father,' he said to the tsar, 'give me a ship, I will go and get drugs for my bride; and see that your herdsman comes with me, as I am so well accustomed to him.' The tsar consented; gave him the ship and the herdsman. So they sailed away, may be far or near. Then the servant had a sack sewn, and the prince put into it, and cast him into the water. But the tsarevna saw the evil thing that had been done, through her magic mirror; and she quickly summoned her carriage and drove to the sea, and on the shore there the wood-sprite sat weaving a great net. 'Wood-sprite, help me on my way, for Dyad'ka the servant has drowned the king's son!' 'Here, maiden, look, the net is ready. Help me with your white hands.' Then the tsarevna threw the net into the deep; fished the king's son up, took him home, and told her father the whole story. So they celebrated a merry wedding and held a great feast. In a tsar's palace mead has not to be brewed or any wine to be drawn; there is always enough ready. Then the servant in the meantime was buying all sorts of drugs, and came back. He came to the palace, was seized, but prayed for mercy. But he was too late, and he was shot in front of the castle gate. The wedding of the king's son was very jolly, and all the inns and all the beerhouses were opened for an entire week, for everybody, without any charge. I was there. I drank honey and mead, which came up to my moustache, but never entered my mouth.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,The Wild Man,Greece,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Lucy M. J. Garnett, Greek Wonder Tales (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1913), pp. 18-42.","Once upon a time there was a king and a queen, and they had an only son. This king was always sorrowful because he foresaw that, as he had neither soldiers nor money, if any other king were at any time to declare war against him, he would take away his kingdom from him. This worm continually gnawed him, and so his lips never smiled; and every day he walked out into the country to dispel the gloom which was in his heart. One day as he was out walking, a monk met him on the road, and, seeing the king so moody, he asked him, 'Sir King, what is the matter that thou art so sad? Always moody is your majesty!' 'Eh, my good monk,' says the king to him, 'Every stick has its own smoke, you know. I am moody because one day I shall be undone; they will take from me all my towns, because I have no soldiers.' 'Oh! Is that why thou art sorrowful, my king? I will tell thee what to do. In a certain place there is a wild man whom all the world fears for his strength. Collect thy soldiers, and send them to seize him; and when thou possessest such a wild man, no king can menace thee.' Then the king was somewhat heartened and said, 'My good monk, I will give thee whatever thou may'st desire, if only this is accomplished and the wild man brought to me, as thou sayest.' And when he returns to the palace, he calls immediately his twelve councillors and tells them what the monk had said to him. The twelve, when they heard his words, rejoiced on the one hand, but looked grave on the other, for how was it possible to bring that wild man? So they said to the king, 'O Sir King, thou sayest that in a certain place away in the wilderness is to be found a wild man; but we must see if it is possible to bring him hither. We see no easier way than that he who told thee of this man should himself bring him.' The next day, accordingly, very early in the morning, the king gets up and goes to seek the monk; and when he had arrived at the same spot, the monk again presented himself, and said, 'Eh, what hast thou done, my king?' Then the king replies, 'Alas, my good monk, I have done nothing. For I told my twelve, and they said to me that no other could bring him save he who had given me the tidings.' 'Very well, Sir King, if thou biddest me, I will bring him to thee. Give me forty thousand soldiers; make me a chain of copper weighing a hundred thousand kantars, and an iron cage each bar of which must be like a column; and then I will bring him to thee, otherwise nothing can be done.' 'I will gladly make for thee,' said the king, 'anything thou askest me.' And he takes him, and brings him to the palace, and at once gives orders to the Gypsies to collect all the copper in the city for the chain. In a week all is ready. And the monk takes the soldiers, the chain and the cage, and goes for the wild man; and after two or three months' time they arrive at the place where he was to be found. The soldiers immediately set to work and encircled the mountain with the chain, and took every precaution against his escaping at any spot. They did in fact everything the monk told them. And about noontide they felt the mountain tremble, and from that they understood that the wild man was coming forth. They look this way and that, but see nothing; but when they look upwards, they see -- my eyes! -- they see coming down from the summit the wild man, a sight which made them tremble. But the monk encouraged them. 'Ah, my pallikars, let us seize the monster! Bring hither the chain!' So then they took a little courage, and began to shout and drag the chain closer, and so approach him. But, as if he had wings, the wild man fled away, and so they could not entangle him. Not to make a long story of it, six months passed, and they had not yet caught him. But about the end of the sixth month the wild man became one day at last weary; and they entangle him in the chain, and bind him, and put him in the cage. Then the monk says to them, 'Now, my boys, you may rest, for we have him safe!' They take him and bring him to the king, and put the cage in the courtyard of the palace. You should have seen the king when they brought him! He made great rejoicings, and embraced the monk, and kissed him tenderly, and said to him, 'What gift dost thou desire in return for the favour thou hast done me?' 'I want nothing,' he replied, 'but thy love.' 'No,' said the king to him, 'am I not able to reward thee?' And he took and gave him many royal gifts, and the monk bade him adieu, and departed. Let us return to the king. Sorrow and care had departed from him since the day on which they brought him the wild man, and he leapt for joy. In a short time, however, his grief returned, and you will see how. Two weeks had not passed when one day the little prince was standing on the steps of the palace, playing with a golden apple. As he played, it slipped from his fingers, and rolled, and rolled, until it got inside the cage where was the wild man, and he picked it up. The boy runs to the cage and asks for his apple. And then, for the first time, the wild man speaks, and says to the prince, 'If thou wilt take the key and open the door of the cage that I may take the air a little who have been so long imprisoned, then I will give thee thy golden apple.' The prince, like the child that he was, goes and takes the key from the guard-house without anyone seeing him, and opens the door; the wild man gives him back the apple, and then gives him a kick, and -- if you see him, so do I! In a short time the king comes, and as soon as he enters the courtyard, he goes to look at the wild man, as was his custom, for he was his consolation. And when he saw that the cage was open, and the wild man gone, he lost his senses, and drew his sword to kill the guard who kept the key. Just as he was going to cut off his head, this man cried, 'Sir King, you kill me unjustly, I have done no wrong! My prince came and took the keys without my knowledge, and went and opened the cage, and the wild man ran away.' 'Is that true?' asked the king, frantically. 'It is true, Affendi!' So he left him and ran to kill his son. But the queen, when she heard of it, seized the prince in her arms, and cried, and besought the king -- 'In God's name, my king, do not such a thing as to kill your only son in your anger,' she cried, and much more. Then all the people in the palace fell at his feet, and 'Forbear, my king! Forbear!' they cried. 'Slay not our prince!' And amid the cries and tears, here from the queen, and there from the rest, the boy found means to escape. The king called and sought him, but his nurse had hidden him. After a while, when the king had become a little calmer, he made an oath, and said, 'Let him not appear before me, nor let mine eyes see him, for I will not leave life in him so long as I remember how much I spent to bring hither that wild man, and he to let him go! I cannot stomach it! Let the boy go so far away that I cannot hear of him, for he knows what will otherwise happen to him.' The poor queen, when she heard such hard words from the mouth of his father, seeks to make her son flee quickly, and goes at once to order him a pair of iron shoes, and puts in each one fifty gold pieces, takes whatever else is necessary for him, and carries them to the place where they had hidden him, and says to him, 'My boy, as fate has overshadowed thee, and thou hast done such a deed; and as thy father has made a solemn oath to kill thee if ever again he set eyes on thee, thou must change thy name and thy dress, and go to live in a foreign land until we can see what turn things will take. And one thing only I beg of thee, that in whatever place thou bidest, thou wilt learn letters, because for that purpose I have put in thy shoes a hundred pieces of gold.' And then she takes and strips him of his royal garments, and puts on him rustic clothes, gives him all that is necessary, and speeds him with her prayers and her blessing. Let us now leave the king and the queen to their sorrow, and follow the poor prince, who took to the hills without knowing whither he went. He journeys one week, he journeys two, and in about a month's time he comes upon a swineherd who was tending a thousand pigs. 'Good day, swineherd!' said he to him. 'Well met, my lad, and what art thou seeking here?' 'My fortune,' replied the prince. 'I am a poor boy, and I have come out to find work so that I may earn my own living and help my parents.' 'Ah, is that it? Eh, what sayest thou? Will thy bones hold good to look after these swine?' 'Bravo!' replies the prince. 'They will hold good.' 'Then stay with me, for I am only fifteen days from the end of my time; and come with me in the evening to my master, and I will tell him that I am going away -- for I am weary of this trade, and you can take my place.' When God brought the evening, the pair of them took the pigs to the fold, where they found the master. When he saw the youth, he asked the herd, 'What is the matter that thou hast brought this lad here with thee?' 'Did I not tell thee that when my time was up I should go away? And thou saidst that I could not go unless I brought another in my stead? Well, then, I have brought him!' 'Very well,' he replied, 'let the fifteen days pass, and I will pay thee and thou mayst go about thy business. Only during these fifteen days thou must take him with thee and teach him where and when to go with the pigs, lest perchance he take them to some strange place, and we lose them.' But the youth soon found his way into the hearts of his master and mistress. For whenever he went to the house he did not sit with crossed hands, but took at once the broom and swept, lighted the fire, and amused the children until one cried 'Tourou! Tourou!' and the other 'Niá! Niá!' and he did all the work of the house. In fifteen days he became a better herd than the first. And he brought good luck with him, too. For from the time that the other herd had left, the pigs were bursting with fat, not one got lost, not one fell lame, but they were just like young lions; and the master loved the boy from his heart, for, from the time he had come into the house, everything had prospered. And so well did he love him that he told him he would make him his son-in-law. But the prince remembered his mother's words and how she had told him to go on with his studies, and not to become a mere shepherd. So one evening when he returned home, he pretended to be very melancholy. His master, the apple of whose eye he was, observed his sadness and said, 'What ails thee that I see thee sad? If thou hast lost a pig, and art anxious, never mind! It matters not so that thou art well.' 'How shall I tell you, Affendi? It is not that, but I am melancholy because I must soon leave you. For I have received a letter saying that my mother is dying, and now I must go and receive her blessing.' 'Stay where thou art, my boy. Who knows if thou wilt find her living?' 'No, Affendi, you will give me leave to go and see my mother?' 'My boy, if thy longing is so great, thou art free to go; I will not detain thee.' And with these wiles he deceived his master, who would not have otherwise allowed him to depart. So again he takes to the road, and tramps, and tramps, and after a time he comes to a town. As he was passing along a street he saw a shoemaker's shop, and stopped before the door. The master, seeing him, asked, 'What dost thou want, my boy?' 'What do I want? I am a poor lad, and want to learn a trade in order to live, and assist my family,' as he had said to the herd. His reply was uttered in such a plaintive tone that the master had pity on him, and said, 'Eh, wouldst thou become a shoemaker?' 'Oh, that God may dispose thee to such an act of charity!' 'Come in then, my boy, for thou art the lucky fellow.' And when he was come in, he saw a man polishing a pair of shoes. He seized the brush, and in a moment he had turned them into looking-glasses, while all in the shop wondered at his cleverness. The master then sent him to his house with a jar of water, and when he was come there -- not to repeat it all over again -- he did as he had done with his first master. And everybody was pleased with him, and he was even more beloved than he had been at the swineherd's house. When two or three months had passed, and he saw how fond they were of him, he said one day to the shoemaker, 'Master, I would ask you a favour!' 'Ask two, my boy,' was the reply, 'what is thy wish?' 'When, Master, I left home, I had learnt a little, but now I have nearly forgotten all I knew; and I shall remain half blind, for it is well said that 'they who are learned have four eyes.'' Perhaps you will say, 'There is no need for thee to study, learn the trade!' and you will be right, Master. But my mother told me that, whatever trade I might learn, it would be necessary for me to have some schooling. And now I pray you, if possible, to find me a teacher, that I may do lessons but two hours a day, and the rest of the time I will work at my trade.' 'Very good, my dear boy,' was the reply. As good luck would have it, his master knew a clever schoolmaster who was one of his customers. And the boy's good luck brought this man past the shop at the very moment they were talking. So the master called, 'Schoolmaster! Schoolmaster! Come in! You will do me the favour to give lessons to this youth two hours a day, and I shall be much obliged to you.' 'If anyone else had asked me, Mástro Ghiorghi ' -- for this was the shoemaker's name -- 'I should have said 'No'; but I cannot say that to Mástro Ghiorghi. Let him come at noon to my house, and I will examine him, and then I will do my best with him for the two hours, and it shall be as if he studied all day.' So at noon, as the schoolmaster had said, the prince goes to his house and asks him how much he must pay him for his lessons. 'Bre, my dear boy,' he replies, 'I see that thou art poor; what can I ask from thee?' 'But tell me though, for I can raise the money somehow and pay you.' 'What shall I say? My trouble may be worth some thirty or forty piastres. But I don't want to gain anything by thee -- give me whatever thou conveniently canst.' Then the boy took off his shoe, and took out of it the fifty sequins and gave them to the schoolmaster, who, when he saw them, smiled -- for, as they say, 'What is given to Christ is received back again' -- and he said, 'Never mind about the money, my boy, if thou pleasest me, I also will content thee.' The disguised prince then made the schoolmaster do his best; and in a short time he had finished his studies, and became a lamp of learning. And afterwards he hired another schoolmaster to whom he gave the other fifty sequins, to teach him mathematics; and at the same time he learned to make shoes well. At last the master wanted to make him a bridegroom -- and, in short, he played him the same trick as he had played his former master. And again he takes to the hills and runs and runs, until he meets with a herd who was tending a thousand goats. 'Good day, my goatherd!' 'Welcome, my boy!' And after they had exchanged a few words the goatherd goes away, and leaves him in charge of the goats. And the goats again, as formerly the pigs, prospered; none ever fell lame, or got lost out of his hand, and his master was delighted with him. One day, as he was driving the goats home to the fold, one she-goat strayed away from the rest, and as he was very unwilling to lose her, he followed after. She crossed one hill ridge, and stopped, and then another, and stopped, and the youth ran after her to catch her. Well, what are you expecting? She crossed seven ridges, and finally stopped content; and when the youth approached her, there appeared before him the wild man who, when he had embraced and kissed him, exclaimed, 'My prince, for my sake thou hast suffered this adversity, and art become a shepherd and a shoemaker! But I have been ever near thee, that evil might not befall thee; and now I will make thee the greatest king upon earth! It was I who today enticed away the goat, that I might show myself to thee, and put an end to thy misfortunes. So sit thee down and rest thyself.' 'No,' replied the prince, 'I cannot. I must first take back the goat to my master, and then, if thou desire it, I will return, but now I cannot.' Go, then, and come back quickly!' So he takes the goat, and goes back, and finds the rest all together, and leads them to his master, and tells him that he cannot remain, as he has received tidings from his parents who bid him come, for they are in trouble. And so he arose and went away to meet the wild man. And when he was come again to the same ridge the wild man appeared before him, and took off his old clothes, and dressed him in royal cloth of gold. He then showed the prince a cave filled with sequins, and said to him, 'Seest thou all that? -- For thee have I kept it.' Then he took him to another place where was a marble slab with an inscription upon it. And when the wild man had read aloud the inscription he removed the slab, and said to the prince, 'Now thou wilt descend three hundred steps, and when thou art at the bottom thou wilt see forty chambers, and in each one of them a Nereid. When thou hast entered the first chamber, the first Nereid will appear before thee, and her first words will be to ask thee to marry her. Thou must reply, 'With all my heart, that is what I am come for!' and she will be pleased, and will bestow on thee a gift; and so thou must deceive them all, and when thou hast gained the forty gifts, escape and come back to me.' So the prince descended the three hundred steps, and when he came to the first chamber as the wild man had said, the first Nereid immediately appeared, and asked him, 'What seekest thou? Wilt thou marry me?' 'Certainly, my lady,' he replied. 'It is for that I have come.' Then she said, 'May'st thou shine like the sun!' Then he goes to the next, and she says to him, 'May'st thou become a philosopher!' In a word, they endowed him with forty gifts. Then he fled from them, remounted the three hundred steps, and returned to the wild man, who, when he saw him, said, 'Well done! Now we are all right, you only lack a beautiful wife. In the nearest city is a beautiful princess who sets a task, and the task is this: She has a ring which is hung on the roof of the tower, and whoso is able to leap up and seize the ring, may marry her; but if he fails she cuts off his head. And already many princes and kings' sons have decorated the tower with their heads, and but one is wanting. So now let us go and fulfill this condition; and if perchance thou art afraid of the leap, do but jump upwards and I will give the ring into thine hand, and we will win the princess. And give no heed to the people who, when they see such a youth as thou art, will say, 'For God's sake, leap not! Lose not so unjustly thy beautiful young life!' but do as I have told thee.' Then he presented the prince with a mare all golden from head to foot, and with trappings of diamonds -- a wonder to behold; and she was so swift that she went like the wind. They mounted her, and, as soon as you could wink your eye, they found themselves outside that city, when the wild man disappeared, and the prince was left alone. The people stared and knew not which to admire more, the mare or the prince. When the princess saw such a handsome youth, she lost her senses; and all prayed God that the prince might win, and marry the princess; and on the other hand they pitied his youth, and begged him not to attempt the task. The prince, however, heeded them not, but thought of what the wild man had said to him. And he hastened to the tower, all the crowd following him, weeping and crying, 'The poor prince! Ah, the poor, dear prince!' When he arrived at the tower, and saw how high it was, his courage failed; but he was ashamed to show it, and said within himself, 'Come, aid me with thy prayers, my mother!' And he took a leap, and found the ring in his hand. Then was their lamentation changed into laughter and joy! And the king decreed that the wedding should take place that very evening. But the wild man presently came and said to the prince, 'Do not be married this evening, but betrothed only, for thy father has been dead six months, and another has come forward to claim the kingdom. On the morrow thou must set out, for there is no time to be lost.' So the prince told the king that he had such and such business on hand. Then he took the ring which he had won, and gave his own to the princess; and when they had said farewell to each other, he went away. Mounting his mare, he was soon in his native country. But when he alighted at the palace gate and asked for his mother, the servants told him that since the death of the king of blessed memory, the queen had covered herself with seven black veils, and would see no man. 'And so,' they added, 'we cannot tell you where she is.' (For how should they know, poor things, after so many years, that he was the prince?) Then he begged them to let him go in because he had a secret to tell the queen, which would do her good to learn. So earnestly did he plead with them that at last they relented, and went to tell the queen. And when the prince was led to the door of his mother's chamber, he rushed in and cried, 'Queen! I am thy son!' But his mother, without seeing him at all, replied, 'Go, good youth, and good luck go with you! They drive me mad every hour with their news of my son! -- 'Your boy is found, and tomorrow he will be seen on the road!'' 'Am I not, mother mine, the prince, whose father of blessed memory sent the monk to find the wild man; and one day I was playing with the golden apple, and it fell into the cage, and I took the key and opened it, and the wild man escaped?' 'Those are things that have happened, my boy; and thou hast heard, and repeatest them.' 'Am I not he whom thou didst embrace and didst save from my father, and didst send to a foreign land, because my father had made an oath to kill me?' 'Those are things that have happened, my boy; and thou hast learnt, and repeatest them.' 'Am I not that prince into whose shoes thou didst put a hundred sequins that I might finish my studies?' When the queen heard these words, she cast off her black coverings, and threw herself on his neck, saying, 'Thou art my son! O live, my light! Thou hast come back safely! Thou art my consolation!' and much besides. When it was known in the town that the real prince had come back, the people ran to meet him, and made great rejoicings; and the prince had no concern save for the grief of his mother, who was still sorrowing for the king. After a few days the queen consented to go with him to fetch his bride, who, until he returned, was wasting like a candle, for she thought he did not love her. But when she heard that the prince had arrived with his mother, she was like to burst with joy. And the king ran, and the twelve ran, and small and great ran to welcome the prince, and led them to the palace. In due time they crowned the young couple with the wedding crowns, and again there was staring and wondering! When the wedding ceremonies and the rejoicings at last came to an end, the prince took his mother and the princess, bade adieu to his father-in-law, and returned to his own kingdom. When they arrived, the wild man appeared, and told the prince to give him fifty camels to bring away the treasure from the cave. And he loaded them with treasure, brought them back to the palace, and remained there himself. And the prince at last began to enjoy his life. But, look you, a time comes when the other kings learn that he has wealth and gear, and they envy him; and seven kings and seven princes come against him, and soldiers without number, to fight against him, and to take from him his towns, and his treasures, and his wife. When the prince heard this, he, too, began to prepare for war; but what could he do against so many soldiers? And so his heart quaked with the fear of losing his kingdom. Then the wild man said to him, 'Thou hast me, and yet thou art afraid! And not only with regard to this matter, but whatever may happen, let it not even make thine ear sweat! For so long as the wild man lives, thou needest neither raise soldiers, nor do anything but amuse thy sweet one.' So the prince took courage, and troubled himself no more as to whether he was at war or not. And when his good wild man knew that the enemy had come quite close to the borders of his kingdom, he arose and went and fell upon them, first on this hand and then on the other, till he had destroyed them all. Then he took the seven kings and the seven princes, and bound them, and brought them before the prince, and said, 'Here are thine enemies, do with them as thou wilt, my king!' Then they began to weep, and to beg the prince to spare their lives, and they would pay him tribute every year. Then the prince had pity on them, and said, 'Be off then, I give you your lives! But truly ye shall, each one of you, pay me so much tribute every year.' Then he released them, and they fell down and did homage to him as their overlord, and each one went about his business. And so the prince became, as the wild man had promised, the greatest king in the world, and feared no one. And so he lived happily, and more than happily. And we more happily still!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
502,The Wild Man of the Marsh,Denmark,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Svend Grundtvig, Fairy Tales from Afar, translated from the Danish Popular Tales by Jane Mulley (New York: A. Wessels Company, 1902), pp. 122-40.","Once upon a time there lived a King of England who had in his domain a dismal, wild, and pathless swamp. No one would go near the place, for it was said that every living thing, whether man or beast, that ventured to set foot there would surely perish, and that instantly; and folks called it the Wild Marsh. Well, one day the king made up his mind to have this marsh, or swamp, thoroughly explored; so he gave orders for the place to be surrounded by his entire army, and for his soldiers then to pour down into the marsh from all sides. When they had got about halfway through, they came upon a gigantic wild man, lying asleep, and before he could awake they had bound him fast, hand and foot, and then they brought him to the king's castle. He was a strange fellow to look at -- in form like a man, only much, much bigger, and covered with hair from top to toe; and he had but one eye, and that was in the middle of his forehead. The king was very pleased with the capture he had made. He felt certain that the wild man possessed vast hidden treasures, and he longed to have some of them himself. But to all they said the wild man spake never a word in answer. So the king had him put in a big iron cage, which he placed in a tower built of huge blocks of granite. Every day food and drink were thrust through the iron bars of his cage, but the keys of the tower were in the king's own keeping. Now it so fell out that the king had to go away to the wars, to help another king in defending his land, for in those days there were many kings in England. The keys of the tower he gave into the queen's keeping, bidding her take good care of them, for he vowed a solemn vow that if any one, whosoever it might be, let the wild man escape, he should thereby forfeit his own life. So the queen promised she would never let the keys out of her keeping, day or night; and then the king set out. Now this king and queen had an only child, a pretty, clever little fellow of seven years. He was in the garden one day playing ball with a golden apple, and quite by accident he threw the apple so that it fell between the bars of the iron cage in the tower. The boy ran to the cage, and begged the wild man to throw the apple back to him. But the wild man said no, he should not have his apple again unless he came in and fetched it; and then he told him how to steal the keys of the tower from his royal mother. So the prince ran in to the queen, and laid his head in her lap, and said: 'Oh, mother, there is something tickling my ear! Do see what it is!' Then the queen looked, and said: 'No, there is nothing there.' Meanwhile the boy had stolen the keys out of her pocket; and he ran away to the tower, and opened the outer door. 'Now give me my golden apple,' said he. 'No, you must open the next door, too!' replied the wild man. The prince did so, and then asked again for his apple. But the wild man answered: 'You must first open the innermost door.' And when the prince had done this, he got back his golden apple. But at the same moment the wild man stepped out of his cage; and he gave the prince a little whistle, saying: 'If ever you find yourself in trouble, just sound this whistle, and call me. I will come to your assistance.' And with that the wild man ran off to the marsh. The prince grew hot with fright when he saw the wild man make off, for he knew what his father had vowed concerning any one who should set the captive free. Then he locked all the doors again, and, running back to the queen, he laid his head in her lap, and said: 'Oh, there is something tickling my ear! Do see what it is!' So the queen looked. 'Nonsense! there is nothing there,' she said. But meanwhile the prince had managed to slip the keys back into his mother's pocket. Next day, when they went to feed the wild man, they found he had gone, and no one could conceive how he had got through the locked doors. The queen was dreadfully frightened, but she had her suspicions as to how it had happened. However, she said nothing, neither to her son nor to any one else, but waited quietly till the king should come home from the wars. The king was furious when he learned that the wild man was gone, and he said what he had sworn that he would hold to, and that the queen, who had had possession of the keys, must answer for what had happened; she must know who had let him out. But the queen said she had not done it, that she had never let any one have the keys, and that she knew nothing whatever about it. Then the king condemned her to pay the forfeit with her life, and she was led away to the place of execution. But now the prince stepped forward, and said that his mother was innocent; that he had stolen the keys out of her pocket, and slipped them in again; and that he had unlocked the doors of the wild man's cage in order to get back his golden apple. So the queen was set free. But now, according to the king's vow, her son must pay the forfeit with his life. His father, however, would not shed his blood, but commanded that he should be immediately conveyed to the wild marsh, and driven down into it, where he would certainly perish, and thus the king's oath would be kept. So the prince was led away to the wild marsh; and he was told that, supposing he made his escape, if he, on any pretext whatever, showed himself outside the marsh, his life would forthwith pay the forfeit. So there was nothing for him to do but to betake himself to the wild marsh, and to try to pick out the driest spots, and to beware of pools and swamps. For a while he continued to make his way through the marsh, which stretched along for many a mile on either side, thickly overgrown with underwood, reeds, and rushes. It was already getting toward evening when the prince was set down in the wild marsh, and by the time he had gone as far as he could find his way it was quite dark; so he set about climbing a tree, that he might remain there till daylight came again. Then he found that something he had about him had caught in a little twig of this tree, and when he looked to see what it might be he saw it was the whistle the wild man had given him. He had never given it a thought before, but now he set to and blew the best he could, and then he shouted at the top of his voice, 'Wild man! Wild man!' At the same instant the wild man stood before him, looking at him in the most friendly manner out of the one eye that he had in the middle of his forehead. 'Get up on my back,' said he. And the boy was not slow to obey, clasping him round the neck with both legs, and holding on to his shaggy locks with both hands. So the wild man ran with him farther into the marsh; and then all at once down they sank, deep down below the earth, for it was there the wild man lived in a grand castle of his own. There the prince was served with a good meal, and a comfortable bed was given him, where he slept soundly all the night through. In the morning the wild man came to the prince, and said: 'Here shalt thou live, and here shalt thou stay Till seven long years have passed away, and then by that time you will have learned how to make your own way in the world.' Then he took the boy to the stables, and showed him all his horses, and some were brown and some were black and some were white. After that he led him round the outside of the castle. There were meadows and gardens; there were also a fencing court and a racecourse. Every day the prince took lessons in riding and racing, in fighting and fencing; he also learned to swim and to shoot, and how to handle lance and spear. Seven years had passed away thus, and the prince was now fourteen years old; but he might well have passed for eighteen, so tall and so strong, so straight and so slim was he, and handsome and graceful into the bargain. Then the wild man said to him: 'Now you must dip your head in this stream.' And he did so, and his hair became the colour of the purest gold. After that the wild man presented him with a suit of clothes, very plain and simple in make and material, and told him he must put them on, and then set out to seek his fortune through the wide world. That same evening the wild man took the prince upon his back, and he ran with him all through that night. The youth could not see whether they went over land or water; but they travelled fast, and had gone a very long way by the time the gray dawn broke. Then the wild man set him down, and bade him farewell. 'There is a king's castle close by,' said he. 'You must go and take service there; take what ever you can get, whatever they offer you. Never speak of your home, nor where you come from; and so long as you remain in a lowly station, so long must you keep your hat upon your head, that none may get a glimpse of your golden hair. What else you have to do you will soon find out for yourself. But all that I possess, horses or armour or weapons, you can always obtain by wishing for them, and you can be rid of them again whenever you will. And you need never hesitate to wish.' With that the wild man vanished, and the youth went his way to the king's castle, and asked if he might take service there. Yes, he might be the gardener's boy, and learn to dig and hoe, and plant and sow, and to water the royal gardens. He was very pleased at this, and went and presented himself to the head gardener. 'Off with your hat when you speak to me,' said the head gardener, who was very proud of his position. 'I may not take off my hat, for I am bald headed,' said the prince. 'Ugh! what a misfortune!' cried the head gardener. 'Well, I can't have you in my house; but you may sleep in the outhouse!' And the prince was quite content to do so. The gardener's apprentice paid great attention to his duties, and everyone marvelled to see the amount of work he could get through, and how everything prospered that he undertook. And this is how it happened. When he stuck his spade into the earth, he just wished that the piece of ground was all dug up, and that very instant it was all dug! When he stuck a stick into the ground, he just wished it might grow, and so it always came to pass that what he planted in the evening was full-grown by the following morning. The gardener soon perceived this, and he was very well pleased to have such an apprentice. Early one morning, after passing the night as usual in the outhouse, the prince came out and washed himself in the stream, and then he took off his hat, and combed his long golden locks. Now it so happened that the king's youngest daughter (he had three daughters, all young and fair to look upon) had risen very early that morning, and stood at her window, which looked out upon the garden. She saw something shining through the trees, and thought at first it was the sunrise. But on looking again she saw it was the under-gardener's long hair, that shone like the purest gold. She was greatly struck by this, for she had always noticed that on meeting her sisters or herself in the garden the youth had never once lifted his hat -- indeed, he declined to bare his head to royalty as resolutely as he had refused to take off his hat to the head gardener. From that hour she watched him narrowly, and she could not help thinking him the very handsomest serving-man she had ever seen, and she felt sure that he was not what he gave himself out to be. Both her sisters teased her for casting an eye of favour upon a poor bald-headed serving man, for she could not help looking at him when they met him. And once, when she was taking a noonday stroll in the garden with her father and her two sisters, and they came upon the gardener's boy lying asleep on a grassy bank, she even could not refrain from going up to him and lifting his cap. Her sisters laughed at her, and her father rated her soundly for having anything to do with a mere peasant; but she cared not a jot, for she had caught a glimpse of his golden hair. So time passed on. Then the king determined to marry his three daughters to the three most gallant knights who should win the three best prizes in a tournament. The tournament was to last three days, and whoever remained victor, and beat all the other knights out of the lists, he should receive a golden apple from the hand of that princess whose day it was, and he should be her betrothed husband. On the first day the hand of the eldest princess was to be contended for. A great many princes and knights were gathered together from the king's own land and from other lands. Then the gardener's boy went out into the wood, and wished for his brown horse out of the wild man's stables, with accoutrements and coat-of-mail of glittering steel. Springing into the saddle, he galloped off to the spot where the tournament was being held. It was a lance tournament, and they rode and they strove, and many a lance-thrust was given and parried, many a brave knight was thrown from his horse, and many another lost life or limb. But the steel-clad knight on the brown charger was victorious over all, and to him was given the princess's golden apple. Then he galloped off and vanished, none knew whither. But as he went he threw the golden apple to a knight in brave attire who had not entered the lists, having no desire to risk his dainty doublet. The following day they were to strive for the hand of the second princess, and there were no fewer combatants than there had been the day before, for princes and knights from many a land were desirous of winning the prize. Then the gardener's boy went out into the wood again, and he wished for his coal-black steed out of the wild man's stables, with coat-of-mail and accoutrements of shining silver. And he rode and he strove with the other knights till he had conquered them all, and so he won the second golden apple. He gave that to an earl's son, whom he had unhorsed, and then he rode away into the wood, and put on his everyday garments once more. The third day the youngest princess was to be fought for. She was the most beautiful of the three, and there was no less rivalry among the combatants than on the previous days. That day the gardener's boy wished for his milk-white steed out of the wild man's stables, and for a coat-of-mail and accoutrements of purest gold. Then he loosed his golden hair, so that it fell down over his shoulders, and galloped to the courtyard where the tournament was being held; and all who saw him thought he looked more like an angel than a mere man. And he rode and he strove so that none could withstand him. And so he received the golden apple from the hand of the youngest princess. But he did not give that away; he held it fast in his closed hand, and galloped away, none knew whither. However, he only rode as far as the wood, and wished himself back in his old clothes, with his golden hair hidden beneath his fur cap. And now those knights who had won the prizes on the three days were summoned to appear. And the duke's son, who had been so bravely apparelled, and the earl's son, who had been unhorsed, stepped forward with haughty mien, each carrying his golden apple. So they were betrothed each to his princess. But no knight in golden armour made his appearance; no one knew what had become of him. The two eldest princesses were delighted with their betrothed husbands, and they made great fun of their sister, whom 'no one would have,' they said. 'But, after all, you have a lover too!' cried they. 'There is your bald-headed gardener's boy; send for him.' And they did send for him; and he came in his old clothes and wearing his fur cap, but in his hand was the princess's golden apple. Then the king came to him in haste, and said: 'You found that in the courtyard; it does not belong to you.' And the gardener's boy answered: 'Nay, but I won it in the courtyard, and the princess belongs to me.' Then the youngest princess went up to him, and gave him her hand, and said that he who had her golden apple was her true love. The king, however, considered this an absurd and shameful proceeding. He felt convinced that the golden knight had lost the apple, and was even now searching for it; that this was the reason why he had not come, but that he would come, and that would clear up the whole thing. The two elder princesses seemed to find it a most amusing joke to see their sister make herself thus ridiculous, and could not find ways enough to torment and make a mock of her and her peasant lover. But the youngest princess was quite clear in her own mind, for she had recognised in the golden knight the humble serving lad; so she remained calm and cheerful, and was not disturbed even when her father drove him back into the garden, whilst the others betook themselves to the banqueting hall, where the two elder princesses were forthwith betrothed. The day went on, but no golden knight made his appearance. The king was terribly put out, and the sisters taunted the youngest princess, saying: 'He would neither win thee nor woo thee, so he threw the apple away and took himself off. But thou hast still thy bald-headed gardener's boy.' 'Aye, surely I have, and he is good enough for me,' said she. When they left the dining hall, the youngest princess went down into the garden and sought out the gardener's boy, and as she came he saw her, and he lifted his cap, and his golden hair rolled down on to his shoulders. He kissed her hand, and he kissed her mouth, and he told her who he was: that, like herself, he was of royal birth, and that he would bring no shame upon her. He told her also that it was he who had won all three golden apples, but that he had given away the two first, as he did not wish to have either of the two elder princesses; he only wanted her whom he had now won, and who had been to him so loving and so true. Not many days hence, he said, they should give him the place of honour at the king's table. The following morning the two high-born lovers rode forth to the hunt, and the two eldest princesses, anxious to carry on their merry jests of yesterday, declared that the third lover must go too. So the gardener's boy was sent for, and they equipped him for the hunt in a style that these laughter-loving princesses deemed appropriate. They gave him a little gray donkey to ride, and, instead of a gun, they fetched a pitchfork from the cow house, and thus equipped he rode out of the courtyard with the two young noblemen, and the two princesses nearly killed themselves with laughter as they watched the party pass. When they had got a little distance from the king's castle they came to two crossroads -- to the right was a beautiful wood, to the left a wild marsh overgrown with brushwood. The two young nobles struck off to the right, but the gardener's boy turned his donkey to the left -- the road leading to the marsh. And when he had gone a little way he wished for his good cross bow from the wild man's castle, and then he wished he might see some hares and stags and foxes and wild boars, and he very soon had bagged as much game as his donkey could carry. So he went back to the place where the crossroads met. Towards evening the two noblemen came riding homewards with a crestfallen air; they had not killed so much as a hare. When they saw the donkey so laden with game, they begged the gardener's boy, with many soft words and civil speeches, to sell it to them. He was quite willing to do this, but they must give him their golden apples in exchange, or they should not have so much as a single hare. And they were obliged to agree to that. Then they shared the game between them, and rode proudly into the castle yard. But the gardener's boy came lumbering after them on his little gray donkey, and with his pitchfork on his shoulder. And this gave the princesses fresh food for laughter. Next day the two noblemen went hunting again, and again the gardener's boy had to go with them, riding his little gray donkey and carrying his pitchfork on his shoulder. The young nobles took the same road as yesterday, hoping for better luck this time, and the gardener's boy went to the marsh as he had done before. And the same thing happened again. In the evening, when the noblemen came to the place where the crossroads met, they were empty handed, whereas the gardener's boy had as much game as his donkey could carry. So they tried to bargain with him again to buy the game of him. But this time he would not sell it unless they each gave him a strip of their skins. 'I will cut it off where it won't be seen,' said he. And so, as they could make no easier bargain, and wished to be considered as skilful sportsmen as they were gallant knights, they consented to that arrangement. Then the gardener's boy drew from his pocket a rusty old knife, and he cut off a strip from the back of each of the young noblemen, who were all the time in a cold perspiration from fright. But for all that they came riding into the king's castle yard as proudly as ever, and thanks and compliments were showered upon them for their clever sportsmanship; whereas the gardener's boy came hobbling after them, leaning on his pitchfork and dragging the donkey by the reins. The next day there was to be a great banquet given in the king's castle in honour of the betrothal of the two princesses. But that same night came news of an invasion of the king's domains by a horde of sea robbers, who were ravaging the land with fire and sword. So all the king's soldiers set out to meet the enemy, and the two high-born lovers were forced to go too. Then the gardener's boy mounted his little gray donkey, shouldered his two-pronged pitchfork, and rode forth with the rest. The way led along by a great peat marsh, and when they came to a steep bank the two noblemen set upon the gardener's boy and rode him down, so that the donkey stuck fast in the bog; and the more the poor beast struggled to free himself, the deeper he sank into the mire. Then the gardener's boy begged the two noblemen to help him out; but they saw that he would be sure to sink to the bottom, so that no one would ever hear about their golden apples, or about their skin that had been stripped off; so they rode away and left him to sink into his miry grave. As soon as they were out of sight, the gardener's boy wished himself back on dry ground; then he wished for his milk-white steed and for his harness and coat-of-mail, all of purest gold, just as when he had ridden in the tournament for the hand of the youngest princess. And he rode on till he came to the battlefield. There things were going badly for the king's men. The enemy were pressing them hard, and a part of the royal army had already turned to fly, and the two grand lovers, now that their men were running away, were first and foremost in their eagerness to get away too. But the knight in golden armour dashed to the front, cutting his way through the enemy right and left, and roused the sinking courage of the king's soldiers. The fortune of the day turned once more, and the enemy, after the loss of half their numbers, turned and fled back to their ships. All agreed that to the golden knight was due the honour of the victory, and he was invited to return to the king's castle. And the duke's son and the earl's son came and greeted the prince, for they could see at a glance that he was a king's son; so they thanked him for his good services, and bade him beforehand right welcome to the royal castle. They told him they remembered seeing him at the tournament, and how he was going to be their brother-in-law, and of the talk his unaccountable absence during the last three days had given rise to. The youngest princess, whom he had won, was a charming girl, they said, though not so clever as her elder sisters; she was, in fact, somewhat simple, for she had contracted a sort of half engagement with a low-born, bald-headed gardener's boy, who had found the golden apple that the prince must have lost. But when once she saw him, all that nonsense would of course come to an end. More over, they believed that the boy was now lying at the bottom of the peat bog. The prince let them chatter without interruption as he rode with them to the Castle, where the king himself came out to receive him. The news of the battle had already reached him, and he had also been told that the golden knight who had won it was the same who, three days before, had won the youngest princess. And the king now led forth his youngest daughter by the hand, and betrothed her to the unknown prince. Then there was a splendid banquet given, where the golden prince was seated at the head of the table, exactly opposite the king, and every one showed him the deepest respect. During the feast he drew forth the golden apple he had received from his betrothed when he won her in the tournament, and at the same time also the golden apple he had played ball with in his father's castle yard, and upon which his name and crown were engraved; and he presented them both as a betrothal gift to his youthful bride. The king sat there expecting to see the two knights do the same; but they sat on, pretending not to take any notice. So, after a while, the golden prince drew forth another golden apple, and then again another, and gave them to his young bride, saying: 'Like seeks like; these two shall also be thine.' The king thought he recognised these apples; and when they were given to him to look at, he discovered the names of his two eldest daughters engraved on them, and so he knew they were the same golden apples he had given to the victors on the first and second days of the tournament. He now asked how the prince had come by them. Then the prince told the whole story -- how that he was no other than he whom they had called the low-born, bald-headed gardener's boy, that it was he who had won the three prizes in the tournament, and that he had given away the first two apples to the other two betrothed knights. Then he told them how the knights had sold the apples to him again for the game which he, and not they, had killed, and how at last they had been forced, each of them, to give him a strip of skin. When the king heard this he was furious, and declared that the two good-for-nothings should leave his castle directly, and that they might take their betrothed brides with them. And the princesses did go with them, for they did not care to stop at home any longer now. But the King of England's son was married to the youngest princess, and as long as the king lived he was to rule over half the kingdom, and when the king died he was to have the whole. And so they live there still, in great joy and splendour, he and his true-hearted queen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
298,Brer Rabbit Treats the Creatures to a Race,Joel Chandler Harris,NA,"Joel Chandler Harris, 'Brer Rabbit Treats the Creeturs to a Race,' Uncle Remus and Brer Rabbit (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1906), pp. n43-n53.","One sultry summer day, while the little boy was playing not far from Uncle Remus's cabin, a heavy black cloud made its appearance in the west, and quickly obscured the sky. It sent a brisk gale before it, as if to clear the path of leaves and dust. Presently there was a blinding flash of lightning, a snap and a crash, and, with that, the child took to his heels, and ran to Uncle Remus, who was standing in his door. 'There now!' he exclaimed, before the echoes of the thunder had rolled away. That dust and wind and rain puts me in mind of the time when old Brer Rabbit went away off in the woods until he came to the Rainmaker's house. He knocked and went in, and he asked the Rainmaker if he couldn't fix it up so they could have a race between Brer Dust and Cousin Rain, to see which could run the fastest. The Rainmaker growled and grumbled, but by and by he agreed, but he said that if it was anybody but Brer Rabbit, he wouldn't give it but one thought. Well, they fixed the day, they did, and then Brer Rabbit put out to where the creatures were staying and told them the news. They didn't know how Brer Rabbit knew, but they all wanted to see the race. Now, he and the Rainmaker had fixed it up so that the race would be right down the middle of the big road, and when the day came, that's where he made the creatures stand -- Brer Bear at the bend of the road, Brer Wolf a little further off, and Brer Fox at a point where the crossroads were. Brer Coon and Brer Possum and the others he scattered about up and down the road. To them who have to wait, it seems like the sun stops, and all the clocks with him. Brer Bear did some growling, Brer Wolf some howling, and Brer Possum some laughing, but after a while a cloud came up from somewhere. It wasn't such a big cloud, but Brer Rabbit knew that Cousin Rain was in there along with Uncle Wind. The cloud crept up, it did, until it got right over the big road, and then it kind of dropped down a little closer to the ground. It looked like it kind of stopped, like a buggy, for Cousin Rain to get out, so there would be a fair start. Well he got out, because the creatures could see him, and then Uncle Wind, he got out. And then, gentlemen, the race began to commence. Uncle Wind helped them both. He had his bellows with him, and he blew them! Brer Dust got up from where he was lying and came down the road just a-whirling. He struck old Brer Bear first, then Brer Wolf, and then Brer Fox, and after that all the other creatures, and it came mighty near suffocating them! Never in all your born days have you ever heard such coughing and sneezing, such snorting and wheezing! And they all looked like they were painted red. Brer Bear sneezed so hard that he had to lie down in the road, and Brer Dust came mighty near burying him. And it was the same with the other creatures. They got their ears, their noses, and their eyes full. And then Cousin Rain came along pursuing Brer Dust, and he came mighty near drowning them. He left them covered with mud, and they were worse off than before. It was the longest time before they could get the mud out of their eyes and ears. When they got so they could see a little bit, they took notice that Brer Rabbit, instead of being full of mud, was as dry as a chip, if not dryer. It made them so mad that they all put out after him and tried their level best to catch him, but if there was anything in the round world that Brer Rabbit's got, it's supple feet, and it wasn't no time before the other creatures couldn't see hide nor hair of him! All the same, Brer Rabbit hadn't bargained to have two races the same day. 'But, Uncle Remus,' said the little boy, 'which beat, Brother Dust or Cousin Rain?' The old man stirred uneasily in his chair, and rubbed his chin with his hand. 'They tell me,' he responded cautiously, 'that when Cousin Rain couldn't see anything of Brother Dust, he thought he was beaten, but he hollered out, 'Brer Dust, whereabouts are you?' and Brer Dust he hollered back, 'You'll have to excuse me. I fell down in the mud and can't run any more!'' Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
298,Phœbus and Boreas,"Jean de La Fontaine Old Boreas and the sun, one day Espied a traveller on his way, Whose dress did happily provide Against whatever might betide. The time was autumn, when, indeed, All prudent travellers take heed. The rains that then the sunshine dash, And Iris with her splendid sash, Warn one who does not like to soak To wear abroad a good thick cloak. Our man was therefore well bedight With double mantle, strong and tight.",NA,"Jean de La Fontaine, The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 6, fable 3, pp. 123-24.","'This fellow,' said the wind, 'has meant To guard from every ill event; But little does he wot that I Can blow him such a blast That, not a button fast, His cloak shall cleave the sky. Come, here's a pleasant game, Sir Sun! Wilt play?' Said Phœbus, 'Done! We'll bet between us here Which first will take the gear From off this cavalier. Begin, and shut away The brightness of my ray.' 'Enough.' Our blower, on the bet, Swell'd out his pursy form With all the stuff for storm -- The thunder, hail, and drenching wet, And all the fury he could muster; Then, with a very demon's bluster, He whistled, whirl'd, and splash'd, And down the torrents dash'd, Full many a roof uptearing He never did before, Full many a vessel bearing To wreck upon the shore, -- And all to doff a single cloak. But vain the furious stroke; The traveller was stout, And kept the tempest out, Defied the hurricane, Defied the pelting rain ; And as the fiercer roar'd the blast, His cloak the tighter held he fast. The sun broke out, to win the bet; He caused the clouds to disappear, Befresh'd and warm'd the cavalier, And through his mantle made him sweat, Till off it came, of course, In less than half an hour; And yet the sun saved half his power. -- So much doth mildness more than force.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
298,The North Wind and the Sun,Ambrose Bierce,NA,"Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 181.","The Sun and the North Wind disputed which was the more powerful, and agreed that he should be declared victor who could the sooner strip a traveller of his clothes. So they waited until a traveller came by. But the traveller had been indiscreet enough to stay over night at a summer hotel, and had no clothes.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
298,The Wind and the Sun (Aesop),Aesop,NA,"Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Æsop (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), no. 60, pp. 142-43.","The Wind and the Sun were disputing which was the stronger. Suddenly they saw a traveller coming down the road, and the Sun said, 'I see a way to decide our dispute. Whichever of us can cause that traveller to take off his cloak shall be regarded as the stronger. You begin.' So the Sun retired behind a cloud, and the Wind began to blow as hard as it could upon the traveller. But the harder he blew the more closely did the traveller wrap his cloak round him, till at last the Wind had to give up in despair. Then the Sun came out and shone in all his glory upon the traveller, who soon found it too hot to walk with his cloak on. Kindness effects more than severity. Macmillan and Company, 1894), no. 60, pp. 142-43.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
298,The Wind and the Sun (India),India,NA,"Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 108, p. 314.","Once the Wind and the Sun disputed as to which was the more powerful. And while they were quarreling, a man came by wrapped in a shawl and wearing a big pagri [head cloth or turban]. And they said, 'It is no good quarreling. Let us put our power to the test and see who can deprive this man of the shawl he has wrapped round him.' Then the Wind asked to be allowed to try first and said, 'You will see that I will blow away the blanket in no time,' and the Sun said, 'All right, you go first.' So the Wind began to blow hard, but the man only wrapped his shawl more tightly round him to prevent its being blown away and fastened it round himself with his pagri; and though the Wind blew fit to blow the man away, it could not snatch the shawl from him. So it gave up, and the Sun had a try. He rose in the sky and blazed with full force, and soon the man began to drip with sweat, and he took off his shawl and hung it on the stick he carried over his shoulder, and the Wind had to admit defeat.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1353,An Old Woman Worse Than the Devil,Karl Bartsch,"Bartsch's source: Sexton Schwarz, Berlin.","Karl Bartsch, 'Alt Weib schlimmer als der Teufel,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, vol. 1 (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), p. 515.","Once upon a time there was a married couple who lived peacefully with each other. This irritated the devil, so he went to an old woman in the village and said to her, 'If you can bring discord between these two married people, you shall have a pair of leather slippers.' She said, 'We shall see.' Then she went to the wife when she was home alone and said, 'Do you have a good husband, and do you get along well with him?' 'Yes,' she answered, 'I could never find a better husband in my whole life.' 'Good,' said the old woman. 'I will tell you a means of guaranteeing that you will never quarrel with him. This evening, after he has gone to bed and fallen asleep, take a knife and cut off a few of the hairs that grow on his Adam's apple. If you do that, you will never quarrel with one another.' Then she left the house and went to the husband in the field and said to him, 'Do you have a very good wife?' 'Yes,' said the husband. 'Oh,' replied the old woman, 'I would not trust womenfolk. Don't trust your wife too much. You should know that tonight while you are asleep she intends to slit your throat.' The husband took notice of this, and that evening he pretended to be asleep. He did indeed see that his wife was silently approaching him with a knife. Then he jumped up, ripped the knife from her hand, and slit her throat. When the devil brought the red leather slippers to the old woman he held them out to her on a long beanpole. The old woman asked, 'Why are you doing that?' 'You are much, much worse that I am,' said the devil, 'and not worthy for me to give you the slippers with my hand.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1353,Katie Grey,"Sweden, G. Djurklo","Translator's footnote: Under the name of Titta, or Katie Grey, there appears in many Swedish legends a witch of the worst kind, but still perfectly human in form. In her, popular tradition has desired to personify that malice coupled with cunning, which was likely to be found in a wicked woman, while at the same time it has endeavored to show that before such a one even the prince of darkness must tremble.","Fairy Tales from the Swedish of Baron G. Djurklo, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: William Heinemann, 1901), pp. 137-47.","There were once upon a time a man and a woman who agreed so well together that a harsh word had never passed between them since the beginning of their married life; for whatever the husband did the wife thought right and proper, and everything that she did the husband thought the best that could be done. They had not much to manage with, so they had to be very careful, even with the crumbs. But no matter how black things looked, they were always happy and contented. But envy seems to find her way into every corner, be it ever so humble, and if there is no one else who begrudges people living in peace, Old Nick [the devil] always tries to get his foot inside. So he lay in wait outside their house, wondering how he should be able sow ever so little dissension there. He tried in one way, and he tried in another, and he tried in every way; but although he was always hovering about the house, they kept so well together that he could not find a single chink through which he could slip in, however small he made himself. But what Old Nick himself cannot accomplish, wicked women may manage. In the same neighborhood there lived one called Katie Grey who was one of the right sort. To her he went, and asked if she could set the old couple against each other. That wouldn't be very difficult, she thought; and if only he would give her a new jacket and petticoat with red and green and blue stripes she would be sure to manage it so that Old Nick himself should not be able to do it better. Well, Old Nick agreed to that, and so they parted. Early next morning, as soon as the husband had set out for the forest, Katie Grey rushed off to see the wife. 'Good morning, and well met!' she said, making herself as pleasant as possible. 'Good morning!' said the wife. 'You have a very good husband, you have, haven't you?' said Katie Grey. 'Yes, the Lord be praised!' said the wife. 'When the first snow falls this autumn it will be six and thirty years since we were married, and never during all these years has a single harsh word fallen from his lips.' Katie Grey quite agreed with her, as you may guess. 'Yes, he is no doubt one of the best men one can meet in a day's walk,' she said. But I know people who have got on just as well as you two, and yet trouble came in the end.' 'Poor people!' said the wife. 'But just as soon will the mouse lie down with the cat, as such things will be heard about us,' she said. Well, that might be. Katie Grey was not one to believe all that people said, but 'better wise beforehand than hasty afterwards,' and 'those who remedies know, can well kill illness, I trow.' And as she knew of a remedy against such a misfortune, she thought she ought to mention it, for when they had lived together like a pair of turtledoves for six and thirty years it would be both 'sin and shame' if they were now to begin to bicker and quarrel. The wife could not say anything to that. 'Well, you see,' said Katie Grey, for now she thought she had got the better of the wife, 'if you take a razor and draw it three times along a strop against the sun, and then cut off six hairs from your husband's beard just under his chin one night when he is asleep, and afterwards burn them, he will never he angry with you.' The wife said she did not think she would ever be in need of that remedy, but she thanked her for her good advice all the same. Katie Grey then set out for the forest, where the husband was making osier bands. 'Good morning, and well met!' she said. 'Good morning to you!' said the man. 'What a very kind and good wife you have got!' she said. 'That's true enough,' said the man. 'There isn't a better woman on this side of the sun, nor has there ever been one either.' 'That may be,' said Katie Grey, 'but so was Eve also before the Evil One got the better of her.' 'Yes, that's true; but my wife, you see, is not one of that sort, for she never puts her foot where such wickedness is going on,' he said. 'Don't be so sure about that, for the Evil One can creep through the eye of a needle,' she said, 'so that no one is secure against him. Not that I want make any mischief between people -- no one can say that about me -- but those who will run into danger had better be well looked after. 'All is not gold that glitters,' and 'outside mild, inside wild,' often go together,' she said. 'You talk according to the sense you have,' said the man, who began to feel angry. 'My wife is no more likely to wish me evil than the sun to shine in the middle of the night -- that I may tell you,' he said. 'Thinking and believing do no harm to anybody,' she said. 'But I think you will do a wise thing in not closing your eyes tonight when your wife comes and draws a razor across your throat. But not a word about this to anyone, do you hear?' she said, and off she went. One gets to hear a good deal before one has done with this world -- but did one ever hear the like of this? Could it be possible? The man felt as strange in his head as if he had rolled down the church steeple. But whatever it was that ailed him, there he stood pondering and brooding. Pshaw! She was after all only a wicked woman who wanted to set them against each other. Yes, that was it; and he was very sorry he had not given her a good thrashing for her trouble. But although he worked away and toiled his best with his osiers, he could not get out of his head what Katie Grey had put into it. And when he came home in the evening he was so depressed and silent that his wife had never seen him in such a state before, so strange was he. 'Goodness knows, what can be the matter with my husband?' she thought; and then she suddenly recollected what Katie Grey had told her. 'I may as well take three hairs from his beard,' she thought, 'for when you have had a happy home for six and thirty years, it isn't likely you'll let it slip through your fingers all at once.' But she did not dare to speak to her husband; she only asked him to lend her his razor. He let her have it, but he sighed and thought to himself, 'I wonder if she would do me any harm? I wonder it she really could? Oh, no! That's quite impossible.' But he put his axe close to his bed, and then they both lay down to rest. Later on in the night she asked, 'Are you asleep, husband?' This startled the man, but he did not say a word, and the wife stole out of bed and lighted a candle. The man's heart began to beat violently. The wife then took the razor and drew it three times along the leather belt of her husband's apron, and went towards the bed. The blood rushed to the man's head, so that he almost lost his senses, but he lay as quiet as a stone, and only moved his hand towards the axe. The wife then came close to the bed to cut the three hairs from his beard. But as she leaned forward, the man suddenly jumped up and seized his axe, with which he struck his wife, who fell down dead on the floor. He felt he had done a very wicked deed, but he had not thought that things would come to this pass. He became much distressed -- for what was he going to do? It was perhaps best he followed his wife, and so he took a knife and cut his throat. Just then he heard someone laughing outside the window, and he looked in that direction. There he saw Katie Grey, and then he died. Katie Grey was now quite proud that she had been able to do more than the Evil One himself. Old Nick was not far off either. He came with a petticoat and a jacket hanging on a long, long pole, which he held out towards her. 'Come nearer, so that I may shake hands with you and thank you,' she said. 'No, keep away from me!' he cried, and kept her back with his pole, which he poked at her. 'You call me the Wicked One and the Evil One and such things, but I am not as wicked as you are, at any rate. Look here,' he said; 'take what belongs to you, so that I can have done with you.' And with this he threw the pole and the clothes at her, and took to his heels as fast as ever he could, so afraid was he of her. Katie Grey stood wondering and staring after him. Just then two white pigeons came flying out of the cottage, and flew right up into the clouds above. They were the man and his wife; for though Old Nick had wished them evil, the Lord would take care of them. But what would become of Katie Grey, seeing that the Evil One himself did not dare to go near her? It is not easy to say. by H. L. Brækstad (London: William Heinemann, 1901), pp. 137-47. Translator's footnote: Under the name of Titta, or Katie Grey, there appears in many Swedish legends a witch of the worst kind, but still perfectly human in form. In her, popular tradition has desired to personify that malice coupled with cunning, which was likely to be found in a wicked woman, while at the same time it has endeavored to show that before such a one even the prince of darkness must tremble. fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1353,The Devil's Tyranny Against a Married Couple,"Germany, Martin Luther",NA,"Martin Luther, 'Von dess Teuffels Tyranney wider die Eheleute,' Colloquia; oder, Tischrreden, edited by Johannes Aurifaber (Frankfurt am Main, 1593), pp. 310-11.","In stories we read about two young married people who loved one another with all their hearts and got along ever so well together. Now the devil wanted to sow discord between them so they would no longer love one another. He went to an old whore, a wicked woman, and offered her a pair of red shoes if she could sow discord between the married people. The old slut accepted the challenge, then went to the man and said, 'Listen, your wife is planning to kill you.' The man said, 'That cannot be true. I know that my wife loves me sincerely.' 'No,' said the old woman, 'she is in love with someone else, and she intends to slit your throat.' Thus she succeeded in making the man afraid of his wife. He thought that something horrible might happen to him. Soon afterward the old slut went to the man's wife and said, 'Your husband does not love you.' When the wife answered, 'I have a pious husband, and I know that he loves me,' the old slut responded, 'No, he wants to take another woman, so you should stop him. Take a razor, put it under his pillow, and kill him.' The wife believed the old slut, and the poor, crazy fool became furious with her husband. The husband grew suspicious, and, learning from the old whore that his wife had hidden a razor under his pillow, he waited until his wife was asleep, found the razor, and killed his wife. Then the old woman came to the devil and demanded the pair of red shoes. The devil reached the shoes to her, but he did so on a long pole, for he was afraid of her. He said, 'Take them. You are wickeder than I am.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1383,Admann and His Wife,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Karl Bartsch, 'Admann und seine Frau,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, vol. 1 (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), pp. 507-508. Source (Internet Archive): Karl Bartsch, 'Admann und seine Frau,' Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, vol. 1 (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1879), pp. 507-508.","Then one day her husband follows her, and when he discovers her asleep, he cuts off her long skirts. Awakening, she bewilderedly asks herself, 'Is this me, or not?' Finally she goes to her house in order to convince herself, knocks on the window, and asks, 'Admann, is your wife at home?' When he answers, 'yes,' she replies, 'Then it's not me,' and walks away, never to be seen again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1383,All Women Are Alike,Norway,"The texts in the original Norwegian: Books.google.com: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Joslash;rgen Moe, 'Somme kjærringer er slige!' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiana [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 10, pp. 54-60. Internet Archive: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Joslash;rgen Moe, 'Somme kjærringer er slige!' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiana [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 10, pp. 54-60. Books.google.com: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Joslash;rgen Moe, 'Somme kjærringer er slige!' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiana [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 10, pp. 54-60. Internet Archive: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Joslash;rgen Moe, 'Somme kjærringer er slige!' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiana [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 10, pp. 54-60. This tale consists of seven episodes, each one representing an international folktale type: Type 1382, the foolish woman at the market. Type 1383, a woman does not know herself. Type 1384, a man seeks someone as foolish as his wife. Type 1245, a simpleton tries to carry sunlight into a windowless house. Type 1285, a simpleton attempts to put on a shirt that has no neck opening. Type 1540, the man from paradise. Type 1200, a simpleton plants salt, expecting it to grow. Type 1382, the foolish woman at the market. Type 1383, a woman does not know herself. Type 1384, a man seeks someone as foolish as his wife. Type 1245, a simpleton tries to carry sunlight into a windowless house. Type 1285, a simpleton attempts to put on a shirt that has no neck opening. Type 1540, the man from paradise. Type 1200, a simpleton plants salt, expecting it to grow. Footnote by Brækstad: 'Himmerige,' the Norwegian word for 'heaven.' The similarity between the two words 'Himmerige' and 'Ringerige' will easily explain the mistake made by the woman.","Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: David Nutt, 1897), pp. 69-76. Source (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Fairy Tales from the Far North, translated by H. L. Brækstad (London: David Nutt, 1897), pp. 69-76.","Once upon a time a man and a woman were going to sow, but they had no seed-corn and no money to buy any with either. They had only one cow and this the man was to go to town with and sell to get money for the seed-corn. But when the time came the wife would not let the man go, for she was afraid he would spend the money on drink. So she set off herself with the cow and took with her a hen as well. Close to the town she met a butcher. 'Are you going to sell that cow, mother?' he asked. 'Yes, that I am,' she said. 'How much do you want for it then?' 'I suppose I must have a shilling for the cow, but the hen you can have for two pounds,' she said. 'Well,' said the butcher, 'I haven't any use for the hen, and you can easily get rid of that when you get to the town, but I'll give you a shilling for the cow.' She sold the cow and got her shilling, but nobody in the town would give two pounds for a tough, old hen. So she went back to the butcher and said, 'I can't get rid of this hen, father. You'll have to take that as well since you took the cow.' 'We'll soon settle that,' said the butcher, and asked her to sit down. He gave her something to eat and so much brandy to drink that she became tipsy and lost her wits. While she slept it off the butcher dipped her into a barrel of tar and then put her in a heap of feathers. When she woke up she found that she was feathered all over and she began to wonder, 'Is it me? or is it not me? It must be a strange bird! But what shall I do to find out whether it is me, or whether it isn't me? Now I know -- if the calves will lick me and the dog doesn't bark at me, when I get home, then it is me.' The dog no sooner saw such a monster than it began barking with all its might as if there were thieves and vagabonds about the place. 'No, surely, it cannot be me,' she said. When she came to the cowhouse the calves would not lick her, because they smelt the tar. 'No, it cannot be me; it must be a strange bird,' she said; and then she climbed up on top of the storehouse and began to flap with her arms as if she had wings and wanted to fly. When the man saw this he came out with his rifle and took aim at her. 'Don't shoot, don't shoot,' cried his wife;' it is me. 'Is it you?' said the man. 'Then don't stand there like a goat, but come down and tell me what you have been about.' She climbed down again, but found she had not a single penny left, for the shilling she got from the butcher she had lost while she was tipsy. When the man heard this he said, 'You are more mad than ever you were,' and he became so angry that he said he would go away from everything and never come back if he did not find three women who were just as mad. He set out and when he had got a bit on the way he saw a woman running in and out of a newly built hut with an empty sieve. Every time she ran in she threw her apron over the sieve, as if she had something it, and then she turned it over on the floor. 'What are you doing that for, mother?' asked he. 'Oh, I only want to carry in a little sun,' she answered; 'but I don't know how it is, when I am outside I have the sun in the sieve, but when I get inside I have lost it. When I was in my old hut I had plenty of sun, although I never carried in any. If anyone could get me some sun I'd willingly give him three hundred dollars.' 'Have you an axe?' said the man, 'and I'll soon get you some sun.' He got an axe and cut out the openings for the windows which the carpenters had forgotten to do. The sun shone into the room at once and he got his three hundred dollars. 'That was one of them!' thought the man, and set out again. In a while he came to a house where there was a terrible screaming and shouting going on. He went in and saw a woman, who was beating her husband on the head with a bat; and over his head she had pulled a shirt in which there was no hole for the neck. 'Do you want to kill your husband, mother?' he asked. 'No,' she said, 'I only want to make a hole for the neck in his shirt.' The man moaned and groaned and said, 'Oh dear, oh dear! I pity those who have to try on new shirts. If any one could teach my wife how to make the hole for the neck in a different way, I'd willingly give him three hundred dollars.' 'I'll soon do that,' said the man; 'only let me have a pair of scissors.' He got a pair and cut the hole, and then he took his money and went his way. 'That was the second of them!' he said to himself. After a long while he came to a farm, where he thought he would rest awhile, so he went in. 'Where do you come from?' asked the woman. 'I come from Ringerige [a district in the south of Norway],' answered the man. 'Oh dear, oh dear! Are you from Himmerige [heaven]? Then you must know Peter, my second husband, poor soul!' said the woman. She had been married three times; the first and the last husbands were bad men, so she thought that the second, who had been a good husband, was the only one likely to go to heaven. 'Yes, I know him well,' said the man. 'How is it with him there?' asked the woman. 'Oh, things are rather bad with him,' said the man. 'He knocks about from place to place, and has neither food nor clothes to his back, and as for money ----' 'Goodness gracious!' cried the woman, 'there's no need that he should go about in such a plight -- he that left so much behind him. Here is a large loft full of clothes, which belonged to him, as well as a big chest of money. If you'll take it all with you you shall have the horse and trap to take it in; and he can keep both horse and trap, so that he can drive about from place to place; for he has no need to walk, I'm sure.' The man got a whole cartload of clothes and a chest full of bright silver dollars, and as much food and drink as he wanted. When he had finished he got into the trap and drove off. 'That's the third of them!' he said to himself. But the woman's third husband was over in a field plowing, and when he saw a stranger driving off with the horse and trap, he went home and asked his wife who it was who drove away with the horse. 'Oh,' she said, 'that was a man from heaven; he said that Peter, my second, poor dear soul, is so badly off that he walks about there from place to place, and has neither clothes nor money; so I sent him all his old clothes, which have been hanging here ever since, and the old money chest with the silver dollars.' The man understood at once what all this meant, and saddled a horse and set off at full gallop. Before long he was close behind the man in the trap; who when he discovered he was pursued, drove the horse and trap into a thick part of the wood, pulled a handful of hair out of the horse's tail, and sprang up a hill, where he tied the horse's hair to a birch-tree, and lay down on his back under it, gaping and staring up into the clouds. 'Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!' he said, as if talking to himself, when the woman's third husband came riding up. 'Well, I've never seen anything so wonderful! I've never seen the like of it!' The husband stopped and looked at him for a while and wondered if the man was crazy, or what he was up to. At last he asked him, 'What are you staring at?' 'Well, I never saw the like!' exclaimed the man. 'I've just seen someone driving straight into heaven, horse and all! There, you see part of the horse's tail hanging on the birch tree, and up among the clouds you can see the horse.' The husband looked up at the clouds and then at him and said, 'I don't see anything but the horse-hair on the birch-tree.' 'No, of course you can't see it, where you stand,' said the man, 'but come and lie down here and look straight up; you must not take your eyes away from the clouds.' While the husband lay staring into the sky till the water ran from his eyes, the man jumped on the horse and set off, both with that and the horse and trap. When the husband heard the rumbling noise on the road, he jumped up, but was so bewildered because the man had gone off with his horses that he did not think of setting after him till it was too late. He did not feel very proud, as you can imagine, when he came home to his wife, and when she asked him what he had done with the horse he said, 'Oh, I told the man he could take that with him as well to Peter, for I did not think it was right that he should jolt about in a trap up there; now he can sell the trap and buy a carriage.' 'Oh, thank you for that! Never did I think you were such a kind husband,' said the woman. When the man who had got the six hundred dollars and the cartload of clothes and money, came home, he saw that all the fields were plowed and sown. The first thing he asked his wife was, where she had got the seed-corn from. 'Oh,' said she, 'I have always heard, that he who sows something gets something. So I sowed the salt which the carrier left here the other day, and if we only get rain soon, I think it will grow up nicely.' 'Mad you are, and mad you'll be as long as you live,' said the man; 'but it doesn't much matter, for the others are no better than you.' The texts in the original Norwegian: This tale consists of seven episodes, each one representing an international folktale type:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1383,Clever Elsie,Germany,"This tale consists of two epidodes: Type 1450, a woman fantasizes about the accidental death of a future child. Type 1383, a woman does not know herself. Type 1450, a woman fantasizes about the accidental death of a future child. Type 1383, a woman does not know herself.","Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die kluge Else,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, 7th edition, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), No. 34, pp. 175-78. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Die kluge Else,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm, 7th edition, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), No. 34, pp. 175-78.","When she came of age her father said, 'We will get her married.' 'Yes,' said the mother, 'if only someone would come by who would have her.' At length a man named Hans came from afar and wooed her, under the condition that Clever Elsie should prove to be very intelligent. 'Oh,' said her father, 'she has brains in her head.' Her mother added, 'She even can see the wind running up the street, and hear the flies coughing.' 'Well,' said Hans, 'if she is not really intelligent, I won't have her.' Later, after they had eaten but were still sitting at the table, the mother said, 'Elsie, go down into the cellar and fetch some beer.' Clever Elsie took a pitcher and went down into the cellar, loudly clapping the lid to amuse herself. Once in the cellar she set a stool before the barrel so that she that she would not have to bend down and possibly hurt her back or injure herself in some other way. She placed the pitcher before her, and opened the tap. While the beer was running she passed the time by looking up at the wall. She saw a pickax hanging directly above her. The masons accidentally had left it there. Clever Elsie began to cry and said, 'If I marry Hans, and we have a child, and he grows big, and we send him into the cellar to draw beer here, then the pickax will fall on his head and kill him.' She sat there weeping and crying out with all her strength about the coming misfortune. The people upstairs were waiting for their drink, but Clever Elsie did not come up. Finally the wife said to the maid-servant, 'Go down into the cellar and see what is keeping Elsie.' The maid-servant went and found her sitting in front of the barrel, screaming loudly. 'Elsie, why are you crying?' asked the servant. 'Ah,' she answered, 'why should I not be crying? If I marry Hans, and we have a child, and he grows big, and has to draw beer here, perhaps the pickax will fall on his head, and kill him.' Then the maid-servant said, 'What a clever Elsie we have!' She sat down next to Elsie, and she too began to cry about the misfortune. After a while, as the maid-servant had not come back, and those upstairs were thirsty for the beer, the husband said to the farmhand, 'Go down into the cellar and see what is keeping Elsie and the maid-servant.' The farmhand went down, and there sat Clever Elsie and the girl both crying together. He asked, 'Why are you two crying?' 'Ah,' said Elsie, 'why should I not be crying? If I marry Hans, and we have a child, and he grows big, and has to draw beer here, the pickax will fall on his head, and kill him.' With that the farmhand said, 'What a clever Elsie we have!' Then he too sat down and began to wail loudly. Upstairs they waited for the farmhand, but as he still did not return, the husband said to the wife, 'Go down into the cellar and see what is keeping Elsie!' The woman went down and found all three sobbing piteously. She asked the cause of their sorrow, and Elsie told her too that her future child would be killed by the pickax, when he grew big and had to draw beer, and the pickax would fall down. Then said the mother likewise, 'What a clever Elsie we have!' then she sat down and cried with them. The man upstairs waited a short time, but as his wife did not come back and his thirst grew ever greater, he said, 'I myself must go into the cellar and see what is keeping Elsie.' But when he got into the cellar, and they were all sitting together crying, and he heard the reason, and that the cause was the child that Elsie might perhaps bring into the world some day. This child might be killed by the pickax if he should happen to be sitting beneath it, drawing beer at the very time when it fell down. Hearing this the father cried out, 'Oh, what a clever Elsie!' Then he sat down with the others and cried along with them. The bridegroom stayed upstairs alone for a long time. When no one came back, he thought, 'They must be waiting for me; I too must go down and see what they are doing.' In the cellar he saw all five of them sitting together, piteously weeping and crying, each one outdoing the others. 'What misfortune has happened here?' he asked. 'Oh, dear Hans,' said Elsie, 'if we get married and have a child, and he is big, and we perhaps send him here to draw something to drink, then the pickax that has been left up there might fall down and split his head open. Is that not reason enough for us to be crying?' 'Indeed,' said Hans, 'that is intelligence enough for my household. Because you are such a clever Elsie, I shall marry you.' With that he took her by the hand, led her upstairs with him, and married her. After they had been married for some time, Hans said, 'Wife, I am going out to work and earn some money for us. You go to the field and harvest the grain so that we can have some bread.' 'Yes, my dear Hans, I shall do that.' After Hans had left, she cooked herself some good porridge and took it to the field with her. Arriving at the field she said to herself, 'What shall I do? Shall I harvest first, or shall I eat first? Oh, I will eat first.' After eating all of her porridge she was no longer hungry, and once again she said, 'What shall I do? Shall I harvest first, or shall I sleep first? Oh, I will sleep first.' Then she lay down in the grain field and fell asleep. By now Hans had been at home for a long time, but Elsie did not come home. Finally he said, 'What a clever Elsie I have; she is so industrious that she does not even come home to eat.' Evening came and Elsie had not yet come home, so Hans went out to see what she had harvested. Nothing had been harvested, and she was lying there asleep in the grain field. Then Hans hurried back home and brought a fowler's net with little bells and hung it around her, but she did not wake up. Then he ran home, locked the front door, and sat down in his chair and worked. When it was quite dark Clever Elsie woke up. She stood up, and there was a jingling all around her. The bells rang with every step that she took. This frightened her, and was not sure whether she really was Clever Elsie or not. She, said 'Am I me, or am I not me?' Not knowing the answer, she stood there for a time in doubt. Finally she thought, 'I'll just go home and ask if I am me or if I am not me. They'll be sure to know.' She ran to the door of her own house, but it was locked. She knocked at the window and cried, 'Hans, is Elsie in there?' 'Yes,' answered Hans, 'she is here.' Hearing this she was frightened, and said, 'Dear God! Then I am not me!' She went to another house; but when the people heard the jingling bells they would not open the door, and no one would let her inside. Then she ran out of the village, and no one has seen her since.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1383,Gidske,Norway,"In some later editions, the leading character's name is spelled Giske. A classic, but dated, English translation: Books.google.com: George Webbe Dasent, 'Goosey Grizzel,' Popular Tales from the Norse (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), no. 30, pp. 241-49. Internet Archive: George Webbe Dasent, 'Goosey Grizzel,' Popular Tales from the Norse (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), no. 30, pp. 241-49. Books.google.com: George Webbe Dasent, 'Goosey Grizzel,' Popular Tales from the Norse (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), no. 30, pp. 241-49. Internet Archive: George Webbe Dasent, 'Goosey Grizzel,' Popular Tales from the Norse (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), no. 30, pp. 241-49. This tale consists of three episodes, each one representing an international folktale type: Type 1383, a woman does not know herself. Type 1692, foolish thieves betray themselves. Type 1791, a priest is carried, then dropped. Type 1383, a woman does not know herself. Type 1692, foolish thieves betray themselves. Type 1791, a priest is carried, then dropped.","Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, 'Gidske,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiana [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 32, pp. 176-82.. Source (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, 'Gidske,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiana [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 32, pp. 176-82..","It was between hay time and the grain harvest. The hemp was ripe, and the two went out to harvest it. Gidske thought herself good-looking, clever, and capable. She worked away at the hemp until she grew giddy from the strong smell of the ripe seeds. At last she lay down on the ground and fell fast asleep among the hemp plants. While she slept, the man got a pair of scissors and cut off her skirts. Then he smeared her all over, first with tallow and then with soot, until she looked worse than the devil himself. When Gidske woke up and saw how ugly she was, she didn't recognize herself. 'Can this be me?' she asked. 'No! It cannot be me. I have never looked this ugly. I must be the devil himself.' Wanting to know the truth, she went off and knocked at her master's door, and asked, 'Is your Gidske at home today?' 'Yes, our Gidske is safely here at home,' said the man, who wanted to be rid of her. 'Then I can't be his Gidske,' she said to herself and stole away. The man was happy to be rid of her. After she had walked some distance she came to a great forest, where she met two thieves. 'I'll join up with those two,' thought Gidske, 'Since I am the devil, thieves are the right companions for me.' But the thieves did not think so. When they saw Gidske, they ran off as fast as they could, for they thought the Evil One had come to capture them. But it did them no good, for Gidske was long-legged and fast on her feet. She caught up with them before they knew it. 'If you're going out to stealing things, I'll go with you and help,' said Gidske. 'I know this area very well.' When the thieves heard that, they thought they had found a good mate, and they were no longer afraid of her. They said they were off to steal a sheep, only they didn't know where to get one. 'Oh!' said Gidske. 'That's easy. I was in service for a long time with a farmer over there beyond the woods. I could find his sheep shed even on the darkest night. The thieves liked to hear this. When they got there, Gidske was to go into the shed and push out a sheep, and they were to take hold of it. Now, the sheep shed lay close to the wall of the house where the farmer was asleep, so Gidske crept in quietly and with caution. But, as soon as she was inside, she shouted out to the thieves, 'Do you want a ram or a ewe? There are many to choose from in here!' 'Shh! Shh!' said the thieves. 'Just take one that is good and fat.' 'Yes! But but do you want a ram or a ewe? Do you want a ram or a ewe? There are many to choose from in here!' shouted Gidske. 'Shh! Shh!' said the thieves again 'Just take one that's good and fat. We don't care whether it's a ram or a ewe.' 'Yes!' insisted Gidske. 'But do you want a ram or a ewe -- a ram or a ewe? There are many to choose from in here!' 'Shut up!' said the thieves, 'and take a good fat one. Ram or ewe, we don't care which.' All of this noise woke the farmer, and he came out in his nightshirt to see what was going on. The thieves took to their heels, and Gidske rushed after them, knocking the farmer off his feet as she fled. 'Stop, boys! Stop, boys!' she shouted. The farmer, who had only seen the black creature, was so frightened that he could hardly stand upright, for he thought it was the devil himself that had been in his sheep shed. He went indoors, woke up the whole household, and they all began to pray, for the farmer had heard that this was the way to protect oneself from the devil. The next night the thieves planned to go and steal a fat goose. Gidske was to show them the way. When they came to the goose coop, Gidske was to go inside and send one out, for she knew the ways of the place. The thieves were to stand outside and catch it. As soon as she was inside she began to shout, 'Do you want a goose or gander? There are plenty to choose from in here!' 'Shh! Shh! Just choose a nice fat one,' said the thieves. 'Yes! But do you want a goose or gander -- goose or gander? There are plenty to choose from in here!' shouted Gidske. 'Shh! Shh! Just choose one that's nice and fat. We don't care whether it's a goose or a gander; but do shut up,' they said. While Gidske and the thieves were arguing about this, one of the geese began to cackle, and then another cackled, and then the whole flock cackled and hissed. The farmer came out to see what was causing the noise, and the thieves ran off at full speed, with Gidske following after them. This farmer too thought that it was the devil himself fleeing away, for Gidske was long-legged, and she had no skirts to hamper her. 'Hold up, boys!' she shouted. 'You should have said whether you wanted a goose or a gander!' But the thieves did not stop. As for the farmer, he ran back home and began pleading and praying with all the household, for they all thought that the devil had been there. On the third day at nightfall the thieves and Gidske were so hungry that they did not know what to do. They decided to go to the storehouse of a rich farmer who lived at the edge of the woods, and steal some food. Off they went The thieves did not dare to go inside, so Gidske was to go up the steps into the storehouse, and hand out the food. The others would stand below and take it from her. When Gidske got inside, she saw that the storehouse was full of all sorts of things: beef, pork, sausages, and pea-bread. The thieves begged her to be quiet, and just throw out something to eat. She should remember how everything had gone so wrong on the two previous nights. But Gidske paid no attention to them. 'Will you have beef, pork, sausages, or pea-bread? Look at this lovely pea-bread!' she shouted out, until it rang. 'You may have whatever you want! There's plenty to choose from here!' All this noise woke up the farmer, and he ran out to see what was the matter. The thieves ran off as fast as they could. Gidske came down from the storehouse, all black and ugly. 'Stop, boys! Stop!' she shouted.' You can have whatever you want! There's plenty to choose from here!' When the farmer saw that ugly monster, he too thought that the devil was on the loose, for he had heard what had happened to his neighbors the nights before. He too began plead and pray, and every one in the whole parish did the same thing, for they all knew that you could banish the devil with prayers. The next evening was a Saturday, and the thieves wanted to steal a fat ram for their Sunday dinner. The had not eaten for many days, but this time they wouldn't take Gidske with them at any price. Her loud mouth brought them bad luck, they said. On Sunday morning Gidske was walking about waiting for the thieves to return. Having fasted for three days, she was very hungry, so she went into a turnip field and pulled up some turnips to eat. The farmer who owned the turnips went out to the field to see if everything was in order there. When he got there he saw something black walking about in the field and pulling up his turnips. He thought that it was the devil, so he ran home as fast as he could, and said that the devil in his turnip field. This frightened the whole household, so they decided to send for the priest, and get him to restrain the devil. 'That won't do,' said the famer's wife. 'This is Sunday morning. You'll never get the priest to come. He'll still be in bed; or if he's up, he'll be learning his sermon.' 'Oh!' said the farmer, 'I'll promise him a fat loin of veal, and he'll come fast enough.' Off he went to the priest's house; but when he got there, sure enough, the priest was still in bed. The maid told the farmer to step into the parlor, then she ran up to the priest, and said, 'Farmer So-and-So is downstairs, and wishes to have a word with you.' Well! When the priest heard that such an important man was downstairs, he got up at once and came down just as he was, in his slippers and nightcap. So the farmer related how the devil was loose in his turnip field; and if the priest would only come and restrain him, he would give the priest a fat loin of veal. Yes! The priest was willing enough and called out to his groom to saddle his horse, while he dressed himself. 'No, no, father!' said the farmer. 'The devil won't wait for us. No one knows where we'll find him if we miss him now. Your reverence must come at once, just as you are.' So the priest followed him just as he was, in his nightcap and slippers. They came to a swampy area, and it was so wet that the priest couldn't cross it in his slippers. So the farmer took him on his back to carry him over. They made their way from one clump to another, until they got to the middle. Gidske caught sight of them, and thought it was the thieves bringing the ram. 'Is he fat?' she screamed. 'Is he fat?' and made such a noise that the wood rang again. 'The devil knows if he's fat or lean; I'm sure I don't,' said the farmer, when he heard her. 'But, if you must know, come and see for yourself.' Then the farmer became so afraid, he threw the priest head over heels into the swamp, and then ran off. If the priest hasn't gotten out, he must still be lying there.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1383,Hans's Katie,Germany,"The Grimms' source: Dorothea (Dortchen) Wild, September 29, 1811. Wilhelm Grimm married Dortchen in 1825. She was the source of many tales in the first edition of the Grimms' Kinder- und Hausmärchen. This version was included in only the first edition (1812) of the Grimm brothers' collection. In later editions it was replaced with a longer version titled Clever Elsie.","Source (zeno.org): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Hansens Trine,' Kinder- und Haus-Märchen: Gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm (Berlin: In der Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 34, pp. 155-56.","Hans's Katie was lazy and didn't want to do anything. She said to herself, 'What should I do? Should I eat? Or should I sleep? Or should I work? -- Oh! I'll eat first!' After she had eaten her fill, she said once again, 'What should I do? Should I work, or should I sleep? -- Oh! I want to get some sleep first.' Then she lay down and slept, and when she woke up it was night, and she couldn't go out to work. One day Hans came home in the afternoon and once again found Katie lying in the room asleep, so he took his knife and cut off her skirt, up to her knees. Katie woke up and thought, 'Now it's time to go out to work.' But upon going out she saw how short her skirt was. This frightened her, and she was confused as to whether or not she was really Katie. She asked herself, 'Am I me or am I not me?' Not knowing the answer, she just stood there in doubt. Finally she thought, 'I'll just go home and ask if it's me. They'll surely know.' So she went back home, knocked on the window, and called in, 'Is Hans's Katie at home?' The others answered, 'Yes, she's lying in the room and is asleep.' 'Well then I'm not me,' said Katie, now convinced. She walked out to the village and never came back. Thus Hans got rid of his Katie.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1383,How the Shoemaker Got Rid of His Hussy,Denmark,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Jens Nielsen Kamp, 'Hvordan Skomageren slap af med sin Kvinde,' Danske Folkeæventyr (Copenhagen: Fr. Wøldikes Forlag, 1879), no. 5, pp. 56-62.","Under the shelter of a low hill, on the edge of a great forest, there stood a wretched hovel, wherein lived a poor shoemaker -- a proper old reprobate! He was as irritable and angry as a demon, and the hussy that he had was just as bad. They lived together like a dog and a cat, as I trow, with constant rows from morning to evening. The hussy was only a little more than half-witted -- 'as wise as seven fools,' as they say -- and therewithal she was so disgusting and filthy that if a man had thrown her against a wall, she would have stuck to it, and stayed there, hanging. Lately she had got a taste for brandywine, which didn't do much for their domestic life, because when the man sat at his workbench hurling insults and abuse at her, as was his wont, the drunken wench sang ever louder and wilder the worse he scolded. Yea, they led a wretched life! One morning the shoemaker told his hussy: 'Listen, Mother Salke, today the hemp shall be pulled, and thou shalt do it!' Sure, that she would. She made a few turns with the broom across the floor, then the house was swept, and when she had turned the eiderdown, the bed was made, and then she left. However, she first took the flask of brandywine and slipped it in her pocket. When she came out to the hemp-patch, she took off the skirt in which the flask was, and began to pull the hemp. It was terribly hot that day, and when she had worked a good while, she thought she was missing something, but she couldn't work out what it was. She therefore set to again, but when she had worked a while longer, a little bird, a wheatear, alighted on a fence beside her, and sang out, as was its wont: Trik-trik-trik! 'Faith, to be sure,' said the hussy, ''twas a drink [Drik] that I was missing. The little bird knew it. Where's my flask now?' She found the flask and took a good swig of it. 'Sure, how hot it is on this good Sunday!' exclaimed the hussy, and she took another swig. 'So that I do not forget again the remedy for what ails me, I'd better take it all while I'm about it!' she said, and drained the flask completely. She gave herself to the task again, but soon thereafter she became heavy in the head, and collapsed in the hemp-patch and slept like a stone. Back at the house, the shoemaker wondered that she did not come home for dinner, as she did not usually forget, and he had made such a delicious barley-meal porridge for them to have -- it was the only thing he knew how to make! When some time had passed, and she still hadn't come, he thought he must go out and see how far she had got with the hemp. He hobbled out to the hemp-patch, and then he found her where she lay, fast asleep. 'Thou jade!' said the shoemaker, 'I wish the crows would fly off with thee, rather today than tomorrow!' He shook her, but she couldn't be woken; she slept as if she'd been hired to sleep for a whole week. Then the shoemaker became so angry that he ripped the lower half of her clothing off her, and then he ran home, fetched the shoe-brush and blackened her, to give her a fright, and he left her lying there like that. Late in the afternoon the hussy awoke, with her head completely in a daze, because of both the brandywine and the strong smell of hemp. She rubbed her eyes and stared in horror at herself, half-naked and black as she was. 'What the Devil is this!' she exclaimed. 'Is this myself, or is it not myself lying here? Faith and begob, it can't be myself, for I wasn't half-naked, and to be sure I'm not after being black.' She thought then that it couldn't be herself, but that it must be someone else. She wanted to be sure of her case, however, and therefore she staggered homeward, back to the cabin. When she came near the low hill under whose shelter the house lay, she said: 'Now I must take heed whether the cat is sitting on the door-step; for if it is sitting there, then the shoemaker's wife is most likely not at home' -- she was always kicking it -- 'and then it may be that I am she; but if the cat's not sitting there, then most likely she is at home, and I must be someone else.' No, the cat was not sitting on the door-step, and so she thought that she was probably not the shoemaker's wife after all. She then caught sight of the shoemaker, who was sitting inside the window, pulling on the waxed thread. 'He looks as evil as the crucifixion today!' she thought; 'If I'm going to find out whether the shoemaker's wife is at home or not, I shall have to ask him very nicely. That way I'll find out, because he will probably give me a civil answer.' So she went to the window and asked ever so politely if the shoemaker's wife was at home. 'Aye, that she is,' replied the shoemaker; 'she's sitting by the hearth, eating bread and dripping!' Well, then she knew that she was not the shoemaker's wife, and she said goodbye and thanked him for the good explanation. She kept on walking, wondering continually who she could be. Thus she entered a road, where she met with a certain pack of ruffians, who wandered in the hours of darkness and had no homes. They asked her who she was, and why she looked so queer -- more like a troll than a human being. 'Sure, you tell me,' she replied, 'and I'll tell you!' So they asked her if she would join their band. Yea, she was all for that, and thought that she'd found a good place. Late at night they reached a village, where they thought there might be a good opportunity to steal something. They sneaked around between the houses until they found a place where a hatch down to the cellar was open, and they could smell that there were cheeses down there. Now they discussed which of them should go down and toss the cheeses up to the others, and soon they agreed that she, the black wench who had come to them on the country road, should do so. They got her and put her down through the hatch, telling her only to take the new and soft cheeses, but to leave the old and hard. Sure, she would take care of that. When they had got a whole lot up and soon had the sack full, the hussy down below shouted, so loudly that it echoed: 'Now there are no more of the soft cheeses, but if you want some of the hard ones, can you tell me?' 'Shut up, bitch!' they replied, but she did not hear them and thought they had not heard her, and so she shouted even louder: 'Now there are no more of the soft cheeses, but if you want some of the hard ones, can you tell me?' At that, the ruffians hurried away with what they had, and left her standing down there shouting. The man in the house woke up to all that noise, and he grabbed the swipple of a flail, and came down with a lantern to the cellar, where he found the hussy, still standing there and shouting. He asked her how she had got there. 'To be sure, that I can tell thee, darling,' she replied; 'there were some good lads with whom I came in fellowship, and they helped me to get down here.' The man wanted to know what she meant to do there. 'Sure, that was to do with those same good lads,' she said. 'They're awful fond of soft cheeses, and so I'm after throwing a whole sackful of cheeses up to them; but now there are no more of the soft cheeses, begob, and I'm asking if they want some of the hard.' But the man did not like that explanation at all; he grabbed hold of her and bashed her with his swipple. Then he locked her in the stable, where he let her lie until the next morning. All the men of the village were called together to decide what to do with her. The council-leader had her brought before him and asked: 'Who art thou and whence art thou come?' 'Sure, you tell me, and I'll tell you!' she replied. 'I thought I was the shoemaker's hussy, but I'm not, for she was sitting at home by the hearth eating bread and dripping.' 'Well, what shall we do with her?' said the men of the council, looking at each other in uncertainty. 'I'll tell you what, men,' said the smith, who came forward at once, 'I need a scarecrow over yonder in my hemp-patch; she might be good for that.' So the smith got her, and he set her up in the middle of his hemp-patch, and if she hasn't flown off with the crows, she may well be standing there even now.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1383,Lazy Catherine,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Josef Haltrich, 'Die faule Kathrin,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen (Vienna: Verlag von Carl Graeser, 1885), no. 70, pp. 252-53. Source (Internet Archive): Josef Haltrich, 'Die faule Kathrin,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen (Berlin: Verlag von Julius Springer, 1886), no. 67, pp. 252-53.","Then she lay down and slept until dinnertime. Waking up hungry, she sat up a little, ate well, and then turned onto her other side and slept until evening when it was time to go home. She picked up her hoe and went home quickly, pretending to be sweating from hard work. At suppertime she once again ate well. One day her husband secretly followed her to the vineyard to see what she was actually doing. There he saw no sign of her work, nor his wife herself. He finally found her asleep beneath a large nut tree. 'Aha,' he thought, 'perhaps I can rid myself of this lazy beast in a clever way.' He silently crept up to her, took out his pruning knife, and cut off her long braid without her noticing it. He then took her hoe and went home. Here he said to his children, who were still young, 'If a woman without a braid and without a hoe comes and asks, 'Is your mother at home?' then just say 'Yes!'' With that he went into the mill and closed the door behind him. When the woman in the vineyard woke up around noon, she rubbed her eyes and shook her head. It felt different. She reached for her braid, but it wasn't there. 'This must not be me!' she thought. 'When I went to sleep I had a braid. But I'll have to convince myself. I had a hoe as well!' When she could not find the hoe, she was stunned and called out, 'No! In truth this isn't me! But before I run away I'll have to be sure!' With that she hurried home as quickly as a lazy, half-asleep woman is able to walk. Walking along she said to herself again and again, 'Is it me, or not?' Arriving at home she found the door locked, so she went to the window and knocked. The children immediately jumped up and saw the woman without a braid and without a hoe, just as their father had described. When the woman asked, 'Is your mother at home?' they said, 'Yes, yes!' 'So,' she said to herself, 'it is clear that I am not me. I must go and look for myself. I'll be easy to recognize, I have a long braid and and a hoe in the vineyard, and I am not at home.' Thus she went out into the wide world to look for herself. She is still looking to this day, and she cannot find herself. In the evening when her husband came home from the mill and heard that such and such a woman had been there and then left, he said happily, 'Praise God, who has redeemed me! I would a thousand times prefer to feed myself and my children by sweat of my own brow, than to have such a rotten carcass in my house any longer.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
1383,There Was an Old Woman,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): James Orchard Halliwell, The Nursery Rhymes of England: Collected Chiefly from Oral Tradition, 4th edition, with illustrations (London: John Russell Smith, 1846), pp. 87-88. Source (Internet Archive): James Orchard Halliwell, The Nursery Rhymes of England: Obtained Principally from Oral Tradition, 2nd edition (London: John Russell Smith, 1843), pp. 60-61.","There was an old woman, as I've heard tell, She went to market her eggs for to sell; She went to market all on a market-day, And she fell asleep on the king's highway. There came by a pedlar whose name was Stout, He cut her petticoats all round about; He cut her petticoats up to the knees, Which made the old woman to shiver and freeze. When this little woman first did wake, She began to shiver and she began to shake, She began to wonder and she began to cry, 'Lauk a mercy on me, this is none of I! 'But if it be I, as I do hope it be, I've a little dog at home, and he'll know me; If it be I, he'll wag his little tail, And if it be not I, he'll loudly bark and wail.' Home went the little woman all in the dark, Up got the little dog, and he began to bark; He began to bark, so she began to cry 'Lauk a mercy on me, this is none of I!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2021-03-10
910B,Three Pieces of Advice,Jamaica,"Beckwith's informant: Richard Morgan, Santa Cruz Mountains.","Source (Internet Archive): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 122, pp. 155-56. Source (Sacred Texts): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 122, pp. 155-56.","He said to his wife, 'I goin' to look somet'ing to do.' She said, 'Yes, me dear husban'.' He went an' walk one hundred mile. When he got to a pen de master said, 'You little too late; I jus' got a butcher dis mo'ning.' He walk anodder one hundred mile an' when he go he succeed a butcher. He was doin' his work one year, never drew no money -- one hundred pound a year. When de year was up, de missis said to him, 'Out of you money an' t'ree advice, which one you rather?' He said, 'I rather de t'ree advice.' She give him one revolver an' give him a loaf of bread an' give him some money to serve him on de way; was not to touch de bread till him get home. De t'ree advice -- 'Not to forsake de bridge which you cross; not to interfere in politics; you mustn't in haste in temper.' An' him tek his journey. When he was going, he went to tek anodder road; he remember de first advice, mustn't forsake de bridge which he cross. He go on a little furder. He saw some people beatin' one dead man; he went to call to dem, but he remember de second advice. He pass. When he go on till he saw his home, he saw his wife an' his chil'ren an' a man walkin' side on side. He took de revolver to shoot de man, he remember de t'ird advice; de missis said, 'You mus' not haste in temper,' an' he put it by. When he went on a little furder, it was his wife bredder hear dat de husband was not at home, so come to look for his sister. When dey goin' in de house he began to tell how many mile he went, an' he say to his wife, 'De missis gave me t'ree advice, out of me money which of dem I rather; I said I rather de t'ree advice, and she give me dis loaf of bread; not to cut it till I reach home, but she give me my pocket-money.' De wife said, 'What about de t'ree advice an' lef yo' money!' De husband said, 'I can't help it.' De chil'ren cry out, 'Papa, cut de bread! Papa, cut de bread!' Tek de knife, an' after him cut de bread, de one hundred pound scatter out upon de table. So de t'ree advice, if he turn a different road he never will see home. De second advice, doze people was beating de dead man, if him was to call to 'em, dem people would destroy him. An' de t'ird advice, he would shoot his own bredder-in-law. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
312,Man-Snake as Bridegroom,Jamaica,"Beckwith's informant: Richard Morgan, Santa Cruz. Type 312A.","Source (Internet Archive): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 85, pp. 103-105. Source (Sacred Texts): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 85, pp. 103-105.","Der is a woman to court. Every man come to court her, she said she don' want him, till one day she saw a coal-black man, pretty man. 'he said, 'O mudder, dis is my courtier!' She tek de man. Breakfas' an' dinner de man don' eat, only suck couple raw egg. So her got a brudder name of Collin. She didn't count de brudder. De brudder tell her, said, 'Sister, dat man you gwine to marry to, it is a snake.' She said, 'Boy, you eber hear snake kyan tu'n a man?' Collin said, 'All right! De day you are married, me wi' be in de bush shootin' me bird.' So de weddin' day when de marry ober, de man took his wife, all his weddin' garment, he borrow everyt'ing; so him gwine home, everywhere him go all doze t'ing him borrow, him shed dem off one by one till de las' house he tek off de las' piece an', � de Bogie! He walk wid his wife into de wood an' to a cave. He put down his wife to sit down. He tu'n a yellow snake an' sit down in his wife lap an' have his head p'int to her nose to suck her blood to kill her. An de woman sing, 'Collin now, Collin now, Fe me li'l brudder callin' come o!' De Snake said, 'Urn hum, hum he, A han'some man you want, A han'some man wi' kill you.' De woman sing again, 'Collin now, Collin now, De Snake say, 'Urn hum, hum he, Deh han'some man, Deh han'some man wi' kill you.' Collin said, 'Wonder who singin' me name in dis middle wood?' an' he walk fas' wid his gun. When he come to de cave, de snake-head jus' gwine to touch de woman nose. An' Collin shoot him wid de gun an' tek out his sister. So she never count her brudder till her brudder save her life.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
20C,Chickie Birdie (Gate),Scotland,"Gate's source: A Scottish lady, who was familiar with the tale in her childhood in Dumbartonshire.","Source (books.google.com): Selina Gate, 'Scottish Folk-Lore Tales,' Notes and Queries, series 7, vol. 10 (London: July-December, 1890), p. 464. Source (Internet Archive): Selina Gate, 'Scottish Folk-Lore Tales,' Notes and Queries, series 7, vol. 10 (London: July-December, 1890), p. 464.","'Dear me!' said Chickie Birdie, 'the lifts are falling. I wonder if the king knows. I think I'll go and tell him, and perhaps he will give me a reward.' So away started Chickie Birdie. He had not gone far before he met Henny Penny. 'Good morning, Chickie Birdie,' said she; 'and where are you going?' 'I'm going to tell the king the lifts have fallen.' 'Who told you, Chickie Birdie; who told you?' 'Who told me! The thing that I both heard and felt! Why it came ripple rapple down on my fore-pen (beak).' 'I'll go with you, Chickie Birdie.' So they went on together, and they met Goosey-Poosey, Ducky-Daddles, Cockie-Lockie, and Pow Parley (turkey), with each of whom the same formula is gone through. They all went on together, and presently it began to rain, and they took refuge in a washing-house. Presently up came Tod Lowrie (fox), and he begged hard to be let in: 'Just his fore-paw, because it was getting so wet,' then 'only just the tip of his nose,' 'his head,' and so on, until he got in altogether. Then they all cried out: 'Tod Lowrie! Tod Lowrie, the huntsmen and the hounds are coming! Jump in here!' So he jumped into the boiler, and Goosey-Poosey poured hot water upon him! Then they went on to the king, and Chickie Birdie told him all about the lifts falling, and he thanked them very much and ordered them a good dinner.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
20C,The Dumb Little Animals (Stoeber),Alsace (Germany / France),NA,"Source (books.google.com): August Stöber, 'Die dummen Thierlein,' Elsässisches Volksbüchlein (Straßburg: G. L. Schuler, 1842), no. 238, pp. 97-98. Source (Internet Archive): August Stöber, 'Die dummen Thierlein,' Elsässisches Volksbüchlein (Straßburg: G. L. Schuler, 1842), no. 238, pp. 97-98.","Ducky said, 'Chicky, why are you running?' 'Because the sky is falling in!' 'Chicky, who told you so?' 'A piece of it fell on my head.' So the ducky ran along too. After a while they came to Goosey, and Goosey said, 'Why are you running?' Ducky said, 'Because the sky is falling in!' 'Ducky, who told you so?' 'Chicky told me so.' 'Chicky, who told you so.' 'A piece of it fell on my head.' So Goosey ran along too. After a while they came to Doggy, and Doggy said, 'Why are you running?' Goosey said, 'Because the sky is falling in!' 'Goosey, who told you so?' 'Ducky told me so.' 'Ducky, who told you so?' 'Chicky told me so.' 'Chicky, who told you so.' 'A piece of it fell on my head.' So Doggy ran along too. After a while they came to Bunny, and Bunny said, 'Why are you running?' Doggy said, 'Because the sky is falling in!' 'Doggy, who told you so?' 'Goosey told me so.' 'Goosey, who told you so?' 'Ducky told me so.' 'Ducky, who told you so?' 'Chicky told me so.' 'Chicky, who told you so.' 'A piece of it fell on my head.' So Bunny ran along too. After a while they came to Calfy, and Calfy said, 'Why are you running?' Bunny said, 'Because the sky is falling in!' 'Who told you so?' 'Doggy told me so.' 'Doggy, who told you so?' 'Goosey told me so.' 'Goosey, who told you so?' 'Ducky told me so.' 'Ducky, who told you so?' 'Chicky told me so.' 'Chicky, who told you so.' 'A piece of it fell on my head.' So the calfy ran along too. After a while they came to a little boy, and the little boy said, 'Why are you animals running?' All together they shouted 'Hey! The sky is falling in!' 'Where?' 'At Chicky's place. A piece of it fell on his head.' So they took the little boy with them to Chicky's place. It began to rain, and they took shelter under a cherry tree, and a little twig fell onto the little boy's back, and he said, 'The sky must be falling in!' With that the animals were so ashamed that they all ran away. They are still running, and if you catch one of them, you can keep him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
20C,The Hares and the Frogs (Berwick),Aesop,NA,"Source (books.google.com): The Fables of Æsop, and Others, with designs on wood, by Thomas Bewick (Newcastle: Printed by E. Walker, for T. Bewick and Son, 1818), pp. 251-52. Source (Internet Archive): The Fables of Æsop, and Others, with designs on wood, by Thomas Bewick (Newcastle: Printed by E. Walker, for T. Bewick and Son, 1818), pp. 251-52.","Upon a great Storm of Wind that blew among the Trees and Bushes, and made a Rustling with the Leaves, the Hares (in a certain Park where there happen'd to be a Plenty of them) were so terribly frighted that they ran like mad all over the Place, resolving to seek out some Retreat of more security, or to end their unhappy Days by doing Violence to themselves. With this Resolution, they found an Outlet where a Pale had been broken down; and, bolting forth upon an adjoining Common, had not run far before their Course was stopt by that of a gentle Brook which glided across the way they intended to take. This was so grievous a Disappointment, that they were not able to bear it, and they deterinin'd rather to throw themselves headlong into the Water, let what would become of it, than lead a Life so full of Dangers and Crosses. But upon their coming to the brink of the River, a Parcel of Frogs, which were fitting there, frighted at their Approach, leapt into the Stream in great Confusion, and dived to the very Bottom for Fear. Which a cunning old Puss observing, call'd to the rest and said, 'Hold, have a care what ye do: here are other Creatures, I perceive, which have their Fears as well as us: Don't then let us fancy ourselves the most miserable of any upon Earth; but rather, by their Example, learn to bear patiently those Inconveniencies which our Nature has thrown upon us.' The Application This Fable is design'd to shew us how unreasonable many People are, for living in such continual Fears and Disquiets about the Miserableness of their Condition. There is hardly any State of Life great enough to satisfy the Wishes of an ambitious Man; and scarce any so mean, but may supply all the Necessities of him that is moderate. But if People will be so unwise as to work themselves up to imaginary Misfortunes, why do they grumble at Nature and their Stars, when their own perverse Minds are only to blame? If we are to conclude ourselves unhappy by as many Degrees as there are others greater than we, why then the greatest Part of Mankind must be miserable, in some degree at least. But, if they who repine at their own afflicted Condition, would but reckon up how many more there are with whom they would not change Cases, than whose Pleasures they envy, they would certainly rise up better satisfied from such a Calculation. But what shall we say to those who have a way of creating themselves Panics from the rustling of the Wind, the scratching of a Rat or Mouse, behind the Hangings, the fluttering of a Moth, or the Motion of their own Shadow by Moonlight? Their whole Life is as full of Alarms as that of a Hare, and they never think themselves so happy as when, like the timorous Folks in the Fable, they meet with a Set of Creatures as fearful as themselves.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
20C,The Hares and the Frogs (Croxall),Aesop,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Fables of Æsop and Others, translated into English with instructive applications by Samuel Croxall, 10th edition, carefully revised and improved (London, 1775), no. 30, pp. 54-56. Source (Internet Archive): Fables of Æsop and Others, translated into English with instructive applications by Samuel Croxall, 14th edition, carefully revised and improved (London, 1788), no. 30, pp. 54-56.","Upon a great Storm of Wind that blew among the Trees and Bushes, and made a Rustling with the Leaves, the Hares (in a certain Park where there happen'd to be a Plenty of them) were so terribly frighted that they ran like mad all over the Place, resolving to seek out some Retreat of more security, or to end their unhappy Days by doing Violence to themselves. With this Resolution, they found an Outlet where a Pale had been broken down; and, bolting forth upon an adjoining Common, had not run far before their Course was stopt by that of a gentle Brook which glided across the way they intended to take. This was so grievous a Disappointment, that they were not able to bear it, and they deterinin'd rather to throw themselves headlong into the Water, let what would become of it, than lead a Life so full of Dangers and Crosses. But upon their coming to the brink of the River, a Parcel of Frogs, which were fitting there, frighted at their Approach, leapt into the Stream in great Confusion, and dived to the very Bottom for Fear. Which a cunning old Puss observing, call'd to the rest and said, 'Hold, have a care what ye do: here are other Creatures, I perceive, which have their Fears as well as us: Don't then let us fancy ourselves the most miserable of any upon Earth; but rather, by their Example, learn to bear patiently those Inconveniencies which our Nature has thrown upon us.' The Application This Fable is design'd to shew us how unreasonable many People are, for living in such continual Fears and Disquiets about the Miserableness of their Condition. There is hardly any State of Life great enough to satisfy the Wishes of an ambitious Man; and scarce any so mean, but may supply all the Necessities of him that is moderate. But if People will be so unwise as to work themselves up to imaginary Misfortunes, why do they grumble at Nature and their Stars, when their own perverse Minds are only to blame? If we are to conclude ourselves unhappy by as many Degrees as there are others greater than we, why then the greatest Part of Mankind must be miserable, in some degree at least. But, if they who repine at their own afflicted Condition, would but reckon up how many more there are with whom they would not change Cases, than whose Pleasures they envy, they would certainly rise up better satisfied from such a Calculation. But what shall we say to those who have a way of creating themselves Panics from the rustling of the Wind, the scratching of a Rat or Mouse, behind the Hangings, the fluttering of a Moth, or the Motion of their own Shadow by Moonlight? Their whole Life is as full of Alarms as that of a Hare, and they never think themselves so happy as when, like the timorous Folks in the Fable, they meet with a Set of Creatures as fearful as themselves.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
20C,The Hen That Went to Dovrefjell to Keep the Whole World from Coming to an End (Norway),Norway,"Links to the original Norwegian text: Books.google.com: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'Høna som skulle til Dovrefjeld, forat ikke Allverden skulle forgaae,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Forlagt af Johan Dahl, 1844), no. 43, pp. 16-18. Internet Archive: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'Høna som skulle til Dovrefjeld, forat ikke Allverden skulle forgaae,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 42, pp. 262-64. Books.google.com: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'Høna som skulle til Dovrefjeld, forat ikke Allverden skulle forgaae,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Forlagt af Johan Dahl, 1844), no. 43, pp. 16-18. Internet Archive: Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'Høna som skulle til Dovrefjeld, forat ikke Allverden skulle forgaae,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 42, pp. 262-64. This tale was collected by Asbjørnsen in the Telemark region of Norway. Dovrefjell is a mountainous region in south-central Norway.","Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe, 'The Cock and Hen That Went to Dovrefell,' Popular Tales from the North, translated by George Webbe Dasent, new edition (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons; Edinburgh: David Douglas, 1912), pp. 353-56. Source (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'The Cock and Hen That Went to the Dovrefell,' Popular Tales from the Norse, translated by George Webbe Dasent, 2nd edition, enlarged (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), pp. 407-410.","Once upon a time there was a hen that had flown up and perched on an oak tree for the night. When the night came, she dreamed that unless she got to Dovrefjell, the world would come to an end. So that very minute she jumped down, and set out on her way. When she had walked a bit she met a 'Good day, Cocky-Locky,' said the hen. 'Good day, Henny-Penny,' said the cock. 'Where are you going so early?' 'Oh, I'm going to Dovrefjell, that the world won't come to an end,' said the hen. 'Who told you that, Henny-Penny?' asked the cock. 'I sat in the oak and dreamed it last night,' said the hen. 'I'll go with you,' said the cock. Well, they walked on a good bit, and then they met a duck. 'Good day, Ducky-Lucky,' said the cock. 'Good day, Cocky-Locky' said the duck. 'Where are you going so said the cock. 'Who told you that, Cocky-Locky?' 'Henny-Penny,' said the cock. 'Who told you that, Henny-Penny?' asked the duck. 'I'll go with you,' said the duck. So they went off together, and after a bit they met a goose. 'Good day, Goosey-Poosey,' said the duck. 'Good day, Ducky-Lucky,' said the goose. 'Where are you going so 'I'm going to Dovrefjell, that the world won't come to an end,' said the duck. 'Who told you that, Ducky-Lucky?' asked the goose. 'Cocky-Locky.' 'Henny-Penny.' 'How do you know that, Henny-Penny?' said the goose. 'I sat in the oak and dreamed it last night, Goosey-Poosey,' said the hen. 'I'll go with you,' said the goose. Now when they had all walked along for a bit, a fox met them. 'Good day, Foxy-Cocksy,' said the goose. 'God day, Goosey-Poosey.' 'Where are you going, Foxy-Cocksy?' 'Where are you going yourself, Goosey-Poosey?' the goose. 'Who told you that, Goosey-Poosey?' asked the fox. 'Ducky-Lucky.' 'Who told you that, Ducky-Lucky?' 'How do you know that, Henny-Penny?' 'I sat in the oak and dreamed last night, that if we don't get to Dovrefjell, the world will come to an end,' said the hen. 'Stuff and nonsense,' said the fox. 'The world won't come to an end if you don't go there. No, come home with me to my den. That's far better, for it's warm and jolly there.' Well, they went home with the fox to his den, and when they got inside, the fox laid on lots of fuel, so that they all got very sleepy. The duck and the goose, they settled themselves down in a corner, but the cock and hen flew up on a post. So when the goose and duck were well asleep, the fox took the goose and laid him on the embers, and roasted him. The hen smelled the strong roast meat, and sprang up to a higher peg, and said, half asleep, 'Phooey, what a nasty smell! What a nasty smell!' 'Oh, stuff!' said the fox. 'It's only the smoke driven down the chimney. Go to sleep again, and hold your tongue.' So the hen went off to sleep again. Now the fox had hardly got the goose well down his throat, before he did the very same with the duck. He took and laid him on the embers, and roasted him for a dainty bit. Then the hen woke up again, and sprang up to a higher peg still. 'Phooey, what a nasty smell! What a nasty smell!' she said again, and when she got her eyes open, and came to see how the fox and eaten two of them, both the goose and the duck. So she flew up to the highest peg of all, and perched there, and peeped up through the chimney. 'Nay, nay, just see what a lovely lot of geese are flying over there,' she said to the fox. Out ran Reynard to fetch a fat roast. But while he was gone, the hen woke up the cock and told him how it had gone with Goosey-Poosey and Ducky-Lucky. And so Cocky-Locky and Henny-Penny flew out through the chimney, and if they hadn't reached Dovrefjell, the world surely would have come to an end. Popular Tales from the North, translated by George Webbe Dasent, new edition (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons; Edinburgh: David Douglas, 1912), 353-56. Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Forlagt af Johan Dahl, 1844), no. 43, pp. 16-18. Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 42, pp. 262-64.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
510B,The Princess with a Golden Star on Her Forehead (Nemkova),Czechia,"Translated and retold by Lenka Vídršperková, Charles University, Prague. Božena Němcová (1820-1862) was a Czech writer and collector of folktales.","Source (books.google.com): Božena Němcová, 'O princezně se zlatou hvězdou na čele,' České pohádky (Prague: Jan Laichter, 1907), pp. 66-81.","Once upon a time, a king and a queen lived in a castle. The queen was very beautiful, and she had a golden star on her forehead. Unfortunately, the queen died giving birth to her daughter, and the king promised on her deathbed that he would not marry anyone but a woman who also had a golden star on her forehead. So he handed the baby over to the nursemaids and went out into the world to find such a bride -- but since there was no one with a golden star on her forehead, he returned home with failure. When he arrived home, his beautiful daughter Lada ran to meet him, and he saw the golden star on her forehead. The king fell in love and decided to marry her. Lada was terrified, and she said she would only marry the king if he brought her three beautiful dresses -- the one sewn from the wings of a rose-beetle, the second dress to look like the sun, and the third a heaven-like dress. The king did this, so the wedding could not be avoided. Then the princess was visited in a dream by her deceased mother, who advised her to escape from the kingdom. The princess put on a coat made of mouse skin, covered her face with a veil, and left the kingdom. She took with her the beautiful dresses from her father. After some time she came to a city with a royal castle. She hid her beautiful dresses under a stone and asked a little fish in a well to guard them. Then she asked for a job in the castle. At first they did not want to accept such an ugly girl covered by dirt, but Lada eventually found work in the royal kitchen. Some time later a ball was held in the castle, and Lada asked the chief cook for permission to go. The cook agreed, and Lada went to the well, washed herself, and put on one of her beautiful dresses. No one at the ball recognized her, and Prince Hostivít himself fell in love with her. They danced together all the night long. After the ball, Lada run back to the well, took off her fine dress and put on the coat made of mouse skin. On two more evenings Lada went to the ball dressed in her beautiful dresses. At the third ball she gave Hostivít her ring, and he gave her his ring in return. Then Lada went back to the kitchen. The following day, Hostivít felt ill with love. The cook ordered Lada to make the prince's medicinal spices, and she dropped the ring from Hostivít into the cup. Finding the ring, the the prince wanted to talk with the girl who had prepared the medicinal spices. Lada claimed that she knew nothing about the ring. However, Hostivít did not give up, and he followed Lada to the well. There he watched as Lada took off the mouse fur and washed herself. Then he realized that this ugly girl was his beloved Lada. Lada and Hostivít got engaged, and they left his kingdom to ask Lada's father for his daughter's hand in marriage. In the meantime Lada's father had been visited by the queen, Lada's deceased mother, and she had rebuked him for his sinful love. Thus the king's heart turned to a father's love, and he blessed the young couple.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,A Mery Geste of the Frere and the Boye,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): W. Carew Hazlitt, Remains of the Early Popular Poetry of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1866), pp. 60-81. Source (Internet Archive): W. Carew Hazlitt, Remains of the Early Popular Poetry of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1866), pp. 60-81.","Ther was a man in my countre That had wyues thre, Be proseys of tyme, Bey the fyrst wyfe a sone he had, That was a hapey ladde, And a partey hyne. His fader loued hym wele, So dyde his moder neuer a dele, I tell yow as I thinke; Sche thowth lost, he the rode, That dyde the boye ony good, Other mete or drynke. And yet y wys it was but badde, Nor halffe ynowh therof he had, Oft he was afforst: Therfore euyll mote she fare, Ofte she dyde the lytell boye care, As ferforth as she dorste. The good wyfe to her hushonde gan saye; I wolde ye wolde put this boye awaye, And that ryght soone in haste; Truly he is a cursed ladde, I wolde some other man hym had, That wolde hym hetter chaste. Then sayd the good man agayne: Dame, I shall to the sayne, He is but tender of age; He shall abyde with me this yere, Tyll he he more strongere, For to wynne better wage. We haue a man, a stoute freke, That in the felde kepeth our nete, He slepys all the daye, He shall come home, so god me shelde, And the boye shall into the felde, To kepe our beestes, yf he may. Than sayd the wyfe, verament: Sere, therto I assent, I holde het be the beste. On the morowe, whan it was daye, The lytell boye wente on his waye, To the ffellde full prest; Of no man he had no care, But sung, hey howe, awaye the mare, And made ioye ynough. Fforet he wente, truly to sayne, Tyll he came to the playne, Hys dyner foret he drough. Whan he sawe, it was bad, Lytell lust therto he had, But put it yp agayne; Therfore he was not to wyte, He sayd he wolde ete but lyte, Tyll nyght that he home came. And as the boye sate on a hill, An olde man came hym tyll, Walkynge by the waye: Sone, he sayde, god the se. Syr, welcome mote ye be The lytell boye gan saye. The olde man sayd: I honger sore, Hast thou ony mete in store, That thou mayst gyue me? The chylde sayd: so god me saue, To such vytayle as I haue Welcome shall ye be. Therof the olde man was gladde, The boye drewe forth suche as he had, And made him ryght merry. The olde man was easy to please, He ete, and made hym well at ease, And sayd: sone, gramercy. Ffor they mete that thou hast geffe me I shall gyue the thynges thre, Thou shalt them not forgete. The boye seyde: het is best I trowe, Ffor me to haue a bowe, At byrdes for to shete. A bowe, sone, I shall the gyue, That shall last the all thy lyue, And euer a lyke mete, Shote therin, whan thou good thynke, For yf thou shote, and wynke, The prycke thow shalte hytte. Whan he the howe in honde felte, And the boltes vnder his belte, Lowde than he lough; He sayd: now had I a pype, Though it were neuer so lyte, Than were I gladde ynough. A pype thou shalte haue also, In true musyke it shall go, I put thee out of doubt; All that may the pype here Shall not themselfe stere, But laugh and lepe aboute. What shall the thyrde be? Gyfftes I schall geve the three. As I haue sayd before. The lytell boye on hym lough, And sayd: syr, I haue ynough, I wyll desyre no more. The olde man sayd: my trouth I plyght, Thou shalte haue that I the hyght; Say on now, and let me se. Than sayd the boye anone: I haue a stepdame at home, She is a shrewe to me: Whan my fader gyueth me awth, Be God that me dere bowth, Sche stareth me in the face; Whan she loketh on me so, I wolde she sholde let a rappe go, That myght rynge ouer all the place. Than sayd the olde man tho: Whan she loketh on the so, She shall begyn to blowe; All that euer it may here Shall not themselfe stere, But dans on a rowe. Farewell, quod the olde man. God kepe the, sayd the chylde than, I take my leue at the; God, that moost best may, iso Kepe the bothe nyght and day. Gramercy, sone, sayd he. Than drewe it towarde the nyght, Iacke hym hyed home full ryght, It was his ordynaunce; He toke his pype, and began to blowe; All his beestes on a rowe Aboute hym they can daunce. Thus wente he pypynge thrugh the towne, His beestes hym folowed by the sowne Into his faders close; He wente, and put them vp echone, Homewarde he wente anone; Into the hall he gose; His fader at his souper sat; Lytell Iacke espyed well that, And sayd to hym anone: Fader, I haue kepte your nete, I praye you gyue me some mete, I am an hongred, by Saynt Ihone. I have sytten metelesse All this daye kepynge your beestes, My dyner feble it was. His fader toke a capons wynge, And at the boye he gan it flynge, And badde hym ete apace. That greued his Dames herte sore, As I tolde you before; She stared hym in the face, With that she let go a blaste, That all in the hall were agaste, It range ouer all the place. All they laughed, and had good game, The wyfe waxed red for shame, She wolde that she had ben gone. Quod the boye: well I wote, That gonne was well shote, As it had ben a stone. Cursedly she loked on hym tho; Another blaste she let go, She was almoost rente. Quod the boye: wyll ye se How my dame letteth pellettes fle, In fayth or euer she stynte! The boye sayde vnto his dame: Tempre thy bombe, he sayd, for shame: She was full of sorowe. Dame, sayd the good man, go thy waye: For I swere to the, by my faye, Thy gere is not to borowe. Afterwarde, as ye shall here. To the hous ther came a frere, To lye there all nyght; The wyfe loued him as a saynt, And to hym made her complaynt, And tolde hym all aryght. Wee haue a boye within ywys, A shrewe for the nones he is, He dooth me moche care; I dare not loke hym vpon: I am ashamed, by Saynt Iohn, To tell yow how I fare. I praye you mete the boye tomorowe, Bete hym well, and gyue hym sorowe, And make the boye lame. Quod the frere: I shall hym bete. Quod the wyfe: do not forgete, He dooth to me moche shame: I trowe the boye be some wytche. Quod the frere: I shall hym teche, Haue thou therof no care; I shall hym teche, yf I may. Quod the wyfe: I the praye, Do hym not spare. On the morowe the boye arose, Into the felde soone he gose, His beestes for to dryue; The frere ranne out at the gate, He was a ferde leest he came to late, He ranne fast and blyue. Whan he came vpon the londe, Lytell Iacke there he fonde, Dryuynge his beestes all alone; Boye, he sayd, god gyue the shame, What hast thou done to thy dame, Tell thou me anone? But yf thou canst excuse the well, By my trouth bete the I wyll, I will no lenger abyde. Quod the boye: what eyleth the? My dame fareth as well as ye, What nedeth ye to chyde? Quod the boye: wyll ye wete How I can a byrde shete, And other thynge withall? Syr, he sayd, though I be lyte, Yonder byrde wyll I smyte, And gyue her the I shall. There sate a byrde vpon a brere, Shote on, boy, quod the frere, For that me lysteth to se. He hytte the byrde on the heed, That she fell downe deed, No ferder myght she flee. The frere to the busshe wente, Vp the byrde for to hente, He thought it best for to done. Iacke toke his pype, and began to blowe, Then the frere, as I trowe, Began to daunce soone. As soone as he the pype herd, Lyke a wood man he fared, He lepte and daunced aboute; The breres scratched hym in the face, And in many an other place, That the blode brast out; And tare his clothes by and by, His cope and his scapelary, And all his other wede. He daunced amonge the thornes thycke, In many places they dyde hym prycke, That fast gan he blede. Iacke pyped and laughed amonge, The frere amonge the thornes was thronge, He hopped wunderous hye; At the last he held vp his honde, And sayd: I haue daunced so longe, That I am lyke to dye; Gentyll Iacke, holde thy pype styll, And by my trouth I plyght the tyll, I will do the no woo. Iacke sayd in that tide: Frere, skyppe out on the ferder syde, Lyghtly that thou were goo. The frere out of the busshe wente, All to ragged and to rente, And torne on euery syde; Unnethes on hym he had one cloute, His bely for to wrappe aboute; His harneys for to hyde. The breres had hym scratched in the face, And in many an other place, He was all to bledde with blode ; All that myght the frere se, Were fayne awaye to flee, They wende he had ben wode. Whan he came to his hoost, Of his ionrney he made no boost, His clothes were rente all; Moche sorowe in his herte he had, And euery man hym dradde, Whan he came in to the hall. The wyfe sayd: where hast thou bene? In an euyll place, I wene, Me thynketh by thyn araye. Dame, I haue ben with thy sone, The deuyll of hell hym ouercome: For no man elles may. With that came in the good man, The wife sayd unto hym than: Here is a foule araye; Thy sone, that is thy lefe and dere, Hath almoost slayne this holy frere, Alas, and welawaye. The good man sayd: benedicite! What hath the boye done, frere, to the, Tell me without lette? The frere sayd: the deuyll hym spode, He hath made me daunce, maugro my hede, Amonge the thornes, hey go bette. The good man sajd to hym tho: Haddest thou lost thy lyfe so, It had ben grete synne. The frere sayd: by our lady, The pype went so meryly, That I coude neuer blynne. Whan it drewe towarde the nyght, The boye came home full ryght, As he was wont to do. Whan he came into the hall, Soone his fader gan hym call, And badde hym come hym to. Boye, he sayd, tell me here, What hast thou done unto the frere, Tell me without lesynge? Fader, he sayd, by my faye, I dydo nought elles, as I yow saye, But pyped him a sprynge. That pype, sayd his fader, wolde I here. Mary, god forbede, sayd the frere: His handes he dyde wrynge. Yes, sayd the good man, by goddes grace. Then, sayd the frere, out alas, And made grete mournynge. For the loue of god, quod the frere. If ye wyll that pype here, Bynde me to a post: For I knowe none other rede, And I daunce, I am but deed, Well I wote my lyfe is lost. Stronge ropes they toke in honde, The frere to the poste they bonde, In the myddle of the halle. All that at the souper sat Laughed and had good game therat, And said, the frere wolde not fall. Than sayd the good man: Pype, sonne, as thou can, Hardely whan thou wylle. Fader, he sayd, so mote I the, Haue ye shall ynough of gle, Tyll ye bydde me be styll. As soon as Iacke the pype hent, All that there were, verament, Began to daunce and lepe; Whan they gan the pype here, They myght not themselfe stere, But hurled on an hepe. The good man was in no dyspayre, But lyghtly lepte out of his chayre, All with a goodly chere; Some lepte ouer the stocke; Some stombled at the blocke: And some fell flatte in the fyre. The good man had grete game, How they daunced all in same; The good wyfe after gan steppe; Euermore she kest her eye at Iacke, And fast her tayle began to cracke, Lowder than they coude speke. The frere hymselfe was almoost lost, For knockynge his heed ayenst the post, He had none other grace; The rope rubbed hym vnder the chynne, That the blode downe dyde rynne, In many a dyuers place. Iacke ranne into the strete, After hym fast dyde they lepe, Truly they coude not stynte; They wente out at the dore so theke, That eche man fell on others necke, So pretely out they wente. Neyghbours that were fast by, Herde the pype go so meryly, They ranne into the gate; Some lepte ouer the hatche, They had no time to drawe the latche, They wende they had come to late. Some laye in theyr bedde, And helde vp theyr hede, Anone they were waked; Some sterte in the waye, Truly as I you saye, Stark bely naked. By that they were gradred aboute, I wys there was a grete route, Dauncynge in the strete; Some were lame, and myght not go, But yet ywys they daunced allso, On handes and on fete. The boye sayd: now wyll I rest. Quod the good man: I holde it best, With a mery chere; Sease, sone, whan thou wylte, In fayth this is the meryest fytte That I herde this seuen yere. They daunced all in same. Some laughed, and had good game, And some had many a fall. Thou cursed boye, quod the frere, Here I somon the that thou appere Before the offycyall; Loke thou be there on Frydaye, I wyll the mete and I may, For to ordeyne the sorowe. The boye sayd: by god auowe, Frere, I am as redy as thou, And Frydaye were to morowe. Frydaye came, as ye may here; Iackes stepdame and the frere Togeder there they mette; Folke gadered a grete pase, To here euery mannes case, The offycyall was sette. There was moche to do, Maters more than one or two, Both with preest and clerke. Some had testamentes for to preue, And fayre women, by your leue, That had strokes in the derke. Euery man put forth his case, Then came forth frere Topyas, And Iackes stepdame also. Sir offycyall, sayd he, I haue brought a boye to thee, Which hath wrought me moche wo; He is a grete nygromancere, In all Orlyaunce is not his pere, As by my trouth I trowe. He is a wytche, quod the wyfe: Than, as I shall tell you blythe, Lowde coude she blowe. Some laughed without fayle, Some sayd: dame, tempre thy tayle, Ye wreste it all amysse. Dame, quod the offycyall, Tel forth on thy tale, Lette not for all this. The wyfe was afrayed of an other cracke, That no wordo more she spacke, She durst not for drede. The frere sayd: so mote I the, Knaue, this is long of the That euyl mote thou spede. The frere sayd: syr offycyall, The boye wyll combre vs all, But yf ye may him chaste; Syr, he hath a pype truly, Wyll make you daunce, and lepe on hye, Tyll your herte braste. The offycyall sayd: so mot I the, That pype wolde I fayne se, And knowe what myrth that he can make. Mary, god forbede, than sayd the frere, That he sholde pype here, Afore that I hens the waye take. Pype on, Iacke, sayd the offycyall, I wyll here now how thou canst playe. Iacke blewe vp, the sothe to saye, And made them soone to daunce all. The offycyall lepte ouer the deske, And daunced aboute wonder faste, Tyll bothe his shynnes he all to brest, Hym thought it was not of the best, Than cryed he vnto the chylde, To pype no more within this place, But to holde styll, for goddes grace, And for the loue of Mary mylde. Than sayd Iacke to them echone: If ye wolde me graunte with herte fre, That they shall do me no vylany, But hens to departe euen as I come. Therto they answered all anone, And promysed him anone ryght, In his quarell for to fyght, And defende hym from his fone. Thus they departed in that tyde, The offycyall and the sompnere, His stepdame and the frere, With great ioye and moche pryde.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,A Witch Rescues a Man,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): John Harland and T. T. Wilkinson, Lancashire Legends, Traditions, Pageants, Sports, etc., with an Appendix Containing a Rare Tract of the Lancashire Witches (Manchester and London: John Heywood, Deansgate, and Ridgefield, 1882), pp. 252-53. Source (Internet Archive): John Harland and T. T. Wilkinson, Lancashire Legends, Traditions, Pageants, Sports, etc., with an Appendix Containing a Rare Tract of the Lancashire Witches (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1873), pp. 252-53.","The officers answered her very surlily, pushing her aside, which, raising her choler, she said, 'But you shall let him go before we do part.' And they said he should not. Whereupon she bade the poor man stop his ears close; and then she drew out a pipe which had been given her by the Witch of Penmure, and then set piping, and led them through hedges and thorns, over ditches, banks, and poles, sometimes tumbling, and other times tearing and bruising their flesh, while the poor fellow got time enough to make his escape; but the catchpoles cried out for mercy, thinking the devil had led them a dance. At length she left them in the middle of a stinking pond, to shift for themselves.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,Shortboot and His Flute,France,"Link to addional stories about tiny heroes: Tom Thumb, Folktales of Type 700.","Source (books.google.com): E. K. Blümml, 'Courtebotte und seine Flöte,' Schnurren und Schwänke des französischen Bauernvolkes (Leipzig: Deutsche Verlagsactiengesellschaft, 1906), no. 40, pp. 111-17. Source (Internet Archive): E. K. Blümml, 'Courtebotte und seine Flöte,' Schnurren und Schwänke des französischen Bauernvolkes (Leipzig: Deutsche Verlagsactiengesellschaft, 1906), no. 40, pp. 111-17.","God finally heard their request, and after fifteen years and nine months gave them a son who was two spans tall and did not grow any taller. For this reason his parents named him Shortboot. When he was old enough to work, nobody wanted to take him, the dwarf. However, he was more clever and more intelligent than the others. At last he found work as a cowherd for an evil and miserly farmer. Bad bread, bad soup, a bed of straw, many beatings, and sparse wages, that is what our thumbling got. But the dwarf was in good spirits and thought to himself: 'Patience. After rain comes sunshine.' One day he was tending his cows and lying at a pasture on the banks of the River Gers. On the opposite bank he saw a woman who was scarcely a span tall, black as the night, and very old. 'Cowherd,' she cried, 'help me to the other bank of the river.' 'Gladly, dear lady.' He took off his clothes. It was just after harvest time, so the water was so low that it came only up to his waist. 'Dear woman, now you are on this side.' 'Thank you, dear cowherd. Your service shall be repaid to you. Here you have a flute that you should never part with. When you play it, animals and people who hear you will be forced to dance until you stop playing.' 'Thank you, dear woman.' The old woman disappeared. Shortboot began to play the flute. The oxen, cows, and calves immediately began to dance and did not stop until he stopped playing. Soon after, near a hedge of thorns, the Justic of the Peace came by. He was an exceedingly angry and evil man. Shortboot took off his cap: 'Hello, Your Honor.' But he did not answer, nor did he touch his hat. 'Your Honor, I greeted you properly, can't you say thank you?' He only raised his stick. Then Shortboot played his flute, and immediately the Justice of the Peace danced into the thorn hedge, where he tore his clothes and scratched his skin. He danced until the dwarf stopped playing. Shortboot brought his cattle home. His master and his family had a feast that day. There was bread soup, roast goose and turkey, cheese, and wine. 'Dear sir, may I have some of that.' 'Be gone, you rascal. Moldy bread crusts are too good for you. Be gone, or there will be blows.' Shortboot played his flute, and the farmer and his family immediately began to dance. They danced around the benches and the overturned chairs, on plates, bowls, and broken wine bottles, which cut into them bloodily. They danced and danced until he stopped playing. After this Shortboot returned to his parents, but the Justice of the Peace and the farmer brought charges against him in court. Three days later the cowherd was sentenced to death by hanging. The red-robed judges, the priest, the hangman and his helpers led him to the gallows. He nearly burst with laughter when he saw the Justice of the Peace and the farmer among the people marching with them. The hangman put the rope around his neck, but he began to play the flute, and everyone -- the judge, the priest, the hangman and his helpers, and the people -- danced. They danced up to the gallows, and their legs and arms were in constant danger of being broken. They danced until he stopped playing. 'Well, my dear people, do you still want to hang me?' 'No, Shortboot, be calm. Nothing will happen to you.' 'My dear people, that's not enough for me. The Justice of the Peace and the farmer must be hanged without mercy.' 'Shortboot, that's not possible!' Shortboot played his flute again, and everyone immediately began to dance. They danced up to the gallows, and their legs and arms were in constant danger of being broken. They danced until he stopped playing. 'My dear people, I want the justice of the peace and the farmer to be hanged without mercy. Is this still not possible?' 'As you wish, Shortboot. Executioner, perform your duties.' The executioner and his helpers hanged the magistrate and the farmer. 'And now, dear people, you must give me a thousand pieces of gold as compensation.' 'Shortboot, that's not possible!' But Shortboot played the flute again, and everyone immediately began to dance. They danced up onto the gallows and back down again. Their arms and legs were in constant danger of being broken. They danced until he stopped playing. 'My dear people, you must give me a thousand pieces of gold as compensation for the injustice that I have suffered. Is this still not possible?' 'We will pay, Shortboot, but we don't have the money here.' 'Then have it fetched, otherwise I'll play the flute again.' They brought the money, and Shortboot returned to his parents laden with gold. He lived happily and contentedly for many years afterward. (Gascony)",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,The Fiddler and the Minister,Ireland,Collector: Mártain Ó Braonáin. The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Mayo >> Eanach Mór, pp. 125-26.","One time there was a man who used to be always out shooting in a minister's land and the minister did not like it. One day he was out shooting and he met a fairy. He asked a gift of him and he told him that if he did not get it he would shoot him. The gift was that any time he would play his fiddle, anyone that would hear it would have to keep dancing while he was playing. This day he was out shooting and he seen a hare in a bunch of briars. He shot him and the hare was in the minister's land. The minister saw him and ran to get him (the hare). The huntsman began playing the fiddle and the minister had to start dancing in the briars until he was nearly torn to death. He brought the huntsman to court and said he tried to kill him. The judge said he would be hanged for it and that he would get any gift (request) he would like before he would die. The gift he asked for was to get leave to play a tune on his fiddle and he got leave. Every one in the court had to start dancing and they could not stop. The judge said he would let him free if he would stop playing and that he would hang the minister instead.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,The Little Flute,Italy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Christian Schneller, 'Das Pfeifchen (Il zufolotto),' Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 16, pp. 30-31. Source (Internet Archive): Christian Schneller, 'Das Pfeifchen (Il zufolotto),' Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), no. 16, pp. 30-31.","Once upon a time there was a shepherd boy who lived happily with his goats in the green forest and on the lofty heights, without wishing for anything better. One day he found two women sleeping in the forest. Since the sun was hot on them, he cut branches and made a green roof over them so that they were now lying in the shade. Soon afterwards they awoke and were quite amazed. 'Oh,' they said, 'who built the little green shelter for us?' The boy approached them and said: 'I did it.' They praised him, and one of them said: 'You may ask anything from me, and you shall have it.' The boy replied: 'Give me a little flute which will make everyone who hears it dance when I blow onto it.' The woman gave this to him. Then the second woman said: 'I too want to give you something. What do you want?' The boy answered: 'Give me a rifle with which without powder or shot I can hit all the birds I see in the air!' She gave him the rifle. He thanked them and happily went on his way with the two wonderful gifts. Now that was the life! When he played his flute in the forest, the geese danced merrily around him, and the hares in the bushes, and the squirrels in the trees, and even the foxes in their dens came and danced as if they had all gone mad. And when a bird of prey soared in the air, or a nasty raven croaked, he took his rifle and shot them down. But he did nothing to harm the dear little songbirds. He let them sing and hop as much as they wanted. Once a priest was walking through the forest. The boy had just shot a bird, which had fallen into some thorn bushes. The priest went and wanted to get the bird out. Then the boy began to play his flute. and the poor man had to dance in the thorn bushes until he was all torn and bloody. He went to court and brought charges against the shepherd. The court sent out henchmen to seize the boy; but as they approached him he began to blow on his flute, and they had to dance until he stopped playing. They were now so tired that they could hardly stand upright. He did that every time they tried to capture him. However, they finally attacked him by surprise, snatched the flute from him, bound him, and led him bound to the dungeon. He was brought to trial, and the judges pronounced the verdict that he should die on the gallows. He had been led to the gallows and was about to be hanged when he begged for mercy and to be granted one final request. This was granted to him, and he asked to be able to play his flute one final time. When he began to play, the hangman, who already had the rope in his hand, began to dance merrily. The judges too, and the henchmen, and the spectators all danced until they were dead tired. Thus the boy escaped easily, and he never let himself be captured again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,The Magic Flute,Greece,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Bernhard Schmidt, 'Die Wunderpfeife,' Griechische Märchen, Sagen und Volkslieder (Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1877), pp. 115-16. Source (Internet Archive): Bernhard Schmidt, 'Die Wunderpfeife,' Griechische Märchen, Sagen und Volkslieder (Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1877), pp. 115-16.","Once upon a time there was a priest who had a son who was so good that everyone loved him. His task was to go out and tend the goats. One day he met Pan at his pasture, and Pan gave him a kid like no other in the world: its fur was golden, its ears were silver and his hooves were platinum. The youth had scarcely received the kid when he offered it to God as a burnt sacrifice. Then an angel, sent from God, appeared before him and asked him what reward he wanted for this act. The youth replied that he wished only for a shepherd's pipe with the quality that whenever he played it all who heard it would begin to dance. Such a flute was suddenly there. The youth took it, and whenever he was threatened, he saved himself with his flute. Then came the order from the king to have him arrested, but no one was able to capture him. Finally, in order to take revenge on the king, he voluntarily allowed himself to be captured. After they had thrown him into prison, he began to blow his flute, and not only animals and people danced, but also houses and cliffs. The houses and cliffs fell on the people and crushed them all together with the king. Only the youth himself and his family survived. The whole thing was instigated by Pan to cleanse the world of bad people.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,The Magic Violin,France,NA,"Source (books.google.com): E. K. Blümml, 'Die wunderbare Violine,' Schnurren und Schwänke des französischen Bauernvolkes (Leipzig: Deutsche Verlagsactiengesellschaft, 1906), no. 64, pp. 182-83. Source (Internet Archive): E. K. Blümml, 'Die wunderbare Violine,' Schnurren und Schwänke des französischen Bauernvolkes (Leipzig: Deutsche Verlagsactiengesellschaft, 1906), no. 64, pp. 182-83.","A dirty, ragged old man was sitting there. He called to him, 'Give me something, for God's sake!' 'I only have three hellers, but I'll give them to you. In three years I'll earn them again. Just take them.' 'I thank you very much, and I shall grant you three wishes. What do you choose.' 'I ask for a gun that never misses its target, for a violin that makes everyone dance, and further I wish that no one will be able refuse my requests.' The old man made the wishes come true, and Johann continued on his way, half dancing, half walking. He came to a forest and stayed there to rest. Suddenly he heard someone say, 'Oh, I'd gladly give anything if I could have the beautiful nightingale singing over there on that tree.' It was the farmer who had given Johann three hellers as wages who uttered these words. Johann took his gun, which never missed its target, and shot down the nightingale, which fell into a thicket of thorns. The miser crept into the thorny thicket. Johann took up his violin and played, and the miser, driven by a higher power, began to hop and leap, and the thorns pricked him miserably. 'Hold on, hold on,' he yelled to the boy, 'I'll give you five hundred thalers. Just let me go.' Johann stopped playing, the farmer paid him the thalers, but went away grumbling and then brought charges against him at the court. Johann was arrested and sentenced to death. The execution was to take place the next day. The farmer, the judges, and all the local people were gathered at the place of execution, where a high gallows was set up. Johann was brought in but asked the judges for his violin so that he could play once more before he died. The farmer yelled, 'Don't give it to him! Tie me up!' But since Johann could not be denied anything, the violin was brought to him. He started to play, and everyone had to dance. The judges, tired and exhausted, asked Johann to stop playing and promised him that they would set him free. He agreed to this and was now able to return to his village with his gun and his violin, which he still used on various occasions. (Somme)",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,The Man Who Could Make People Dance,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Clare >> Dubhloch, Cill Mháille, p. 154.",Then he asked the man to undo the charm. 'In the honour of God.' The man then is stopped from dancing with black ass blood and a raven's feather.,Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
592,Tom Clancy,Ireland,"Informant: Michael Finnucane (aged 60). Moymore South, County Claire. Told to him by his father about 20 years ago. The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.","dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Clare >> Lahinch, p. 375-76.","When he came home from Denmark his father and all the neighbours said he knew nothing, so he wanted to show them that he did. One night there was a dance at a house in Lahinch, and Tom wrote some magical words on a slip of paper, and he stuck it under the thatch of the house where the dance was to be held. After a while the boys got up to dance, and when they tried to stop they couldn't. After a while one man would get up to make the peace, but after a while he would be dancing too. At last someone went in for Tom Clancy's father. He came out thinking to make the peace without delay, but no sooner had he entered the house when he too was dancing.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
845,Death and an Old Man,Aesop (Roger L'Estrange),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists: With Morals and Reflexions (London, 1692), no. 113, pp. 105-106. Source (Internet Archive): Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists: With Morals and Reflexions (London, 1692), no. 113, pp. 105-106.","An Old Man that had Travell'd a Great Way under a Huge Burden of Sticks, found himself so Weary, that he Cast it Down , and call'd upon Death to Deliver him from a more miserable Life. Death came presently at his Call, and Asked him hi Bus'ness. Pray Good Sir, says he, do me but the fabour to Help me up with my Burden again. The MORAL Men call upon Death, as they Do upon the Devil: When he comes they're affraid of him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
845,Death and the Negro Man,Joel Chandler Harris,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus and His Friends (Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1892), no. 4, pp. 34-38. Source (Internet Archive): Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus and His Friends (Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1892), no. 4, pp. 34-38.","One day Uncle Remus was grinding the axe with which he chopped kindling for the kitchen and the big house. The axe was very dull. It was full of 'gaps,' and the work of putting an edge on it was neither light nor agreeable. A Negro boy turned the grindstone, and the little boy poured on water when water was needed. 'Ef dis yer axe wuz a yard longer, it ud be a cross cut saw, en den ef we had de lumber we could saw it up en build us a house,' said the old man. The Negro boy rolled his eyes and giggled, seeing which Uncle Remus bore so heavily on the axe that the grindstone could hardly be turned. The Negro boy ceased giggling, but he continued to roll his eyes. 'Turn it!' exclaimed the old man. 'Turn it! Ef you don't turn it, I'll make you stan' dar plum twel night gwine thoo de motions. I'll make you do like de Negro man done when he got tired er work.' The old man stopped talking, but the grinding went on. After awhile, the little boy asked, 'What did the man do when he got tired of work?' 'Dat's a tale, honey, en tellin' tales is playin',' replied Uncle Remus. He wiped the blade of the axe on the palm of his hand, and tried the edge with his thumb. 'She won't shave,' he said, by way of comment, 'but I speck she'll do ter knock out kindlin'. Yit ef I had de time, I 'd like ter stan' here en see how long dish yer triflin' vilyun would roll dem eyes at me.' In a little while the axe was supposed to be sharp enough, and then, dismissing the Negro boy, Uncle Remus seated himself on one end of the frame that supported the grindstone, wiped his forehead on his coat sleeve, and proceeded to enjoy what he called a breathing spell. 'Dat ar Negro man you hear me talk about,' he remarked: Dat ar Negro man you hear me talk about wuz a-gittin' sorter ol', en he got so he ain't want ter work nohow you kin fix it. When folks hangs back fum work what dey bin set ter do, hit natchully makes bad matters wuss, en dat de way 't wuz with dish yer Negro man. He helt back, en he hung back, en den de white folks got fretted wid 'im en sot 'im a task. Gentermens! dat Negro man wuz mad.... He quoiled en he quoiled when he 'uz by his own lone se'f, en he quoiled when he 'uz wid tudder folks. He got so mad dat he say he hope ole Gran'sir Death'll come take him off, en take his marster en de overseer 'long wid 'im. He talk so long en he talk so loud, dat de white folks hear what he say. Den de marster en de overseer make it up 'mongst deyse'f dat dey gwine ter play a prank on dat Negro man. So den, one night, a leetle atter midnight, de marster got 'm a white counterpane, he did, en wrop hisse'f in it, en den he cut two eye-holes in a piller-case, en drawed it down over his head, en went down ter de house whar de Negro man stay. Negro man ain't gone ter bed. He been fryin' meat en bakin' ashcake, en he sot dar in de cheer noddin', wid grease in his mouf en big hunk er ashcake in his han'. De door wuz half-way open, en de fire burnin' low. De marster walk in, he did, en sorter cle'r up his th'oat. Negro man ain't wake up. Ef he make any movement, it uz ter clinch de ashcake a leetle tighter. Den de marster knock on de door -- blim-blim-blim! Negro man sorter fling his head back, but't wan't long 'fo' hit drapt forrerd ag'in, en he went on wid his noddin' like nothin' ain't happen. De marster knock some mo' -- blam-blam- blam! Dis time de Negro wake up en roll his eye-balls roun'. He see de big white thing, en he skeered ter move. His han' shake so he tu'n de ashcake loose. Negro man 'low, 'Who dat?' De marster say: 'You call me, en I come.' Negro man say: 'I ain't call you. What yo' name?' Marster 'low, 'Grandsir Death.' Negro man shake so he can't skacely set still. De col' sweat come out on 'im. He 'low, 'Marse Death, I ain't call you. Somebody been fool you.' De marster 'low, 'I been hear you call me p'intedly. I listen at you ter-day, en yis-tiddy, en day 'fo' yis-tiddy. You say you want me ter take you en yo' marster en de overseer. Now I done come at yo' call.' Negro man shake wuss. He say: 'Marse Death, go git de overseer fust. He lots bigger en fatter dan what I is. You'll like him de bes'. Please, suh, don't take me dis time, en I won't bodder you no mo' long ez I live.' De marster 'low, 'I come f er de man dat call me! I'm in a hurry! Daylight mus'n't ketch me here. Come on!' Well, suh, dat Negro man make a break for de winder, he did, en he went thoo it like a frog divin' in de mill pon'. He tuck ter de woods, en he 'uz gone mighty nigh a week. When he come back home he went ter work, en he work harder dan any er de res'. Somebody come 'long en try ter buy 'im, but his marster 'low he won't take lev'm hunder'd dollars for 'im, -- cash money, paid down in his han'!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
845,Death and the Unfortunate,Jean de La Fontaine,"Links to the French-language fable: Books.google.com: Jean de La Fontaine, 'La mort et le malheureux,' Fables de La Fontaine (Tours: Alfred Mame et Fils, 1864), livre 1, fable 15, p. 27-28. Internet Archive: Jean de La Fontaine, 'La mort et le malheureux,' Fables de La Fontaine (Paris: Garnier Fréres, 1864), livre 1, fable 15, p. 19-20. Books.google.com: Jean de La Fontaine, 'La mort et le malheureux,' Fables de La Fontaine (Tours: Alfred Mame et Fils, 1864), livre 1, fable 15, p. 27-28. Internet Archive: Jean de La Fontaine, 'La mort et le malheureux,' Fables de La Fontaine (Paris: Garnier Fréres, 1864), livre 1, fable 15, p. 19-20.","Source (books.google.com): Jean de La Fontaine, The Fables of La Fontaine, transtlated from the French by Elizur Wright (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 1, fable 15, p. 18. Source (Internet Archive): Jean de La Fontaine, Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright (Boston: Sanborn, Carter, and Bazin, 1856), book 1, fable 15, p. 69.","A poor unfurtunate, from day to day, Call'd Death to take him from this world away. 'O Death,' he said, 'to me how fair thy form! Come quick, and end for me life's cruel storm.' Death heard, and, with a ghastly grin, Knock'd at his door, and enter'd in. With horror shivering, and affright, 'Take out this object from my sight!' The poor man loudly cried; 'Its dreadful looks I can't abide; O stay him, stay him; let him come no nigher; O Death! O Death! I pray thee to retire!' A gentleman of note In Rome, Mæcenas, somewhere wrote: 'Make me the poorest wretch that begs, Sore, hungry, crippled clothed in rags, In hopeless impotence of arms and legs; Provided, after all, you give The one sweet liberty to live: I'll ask of Death no greater favour Than just to stay away for ever.' Links to the French-language fable:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
845,God and Moses,USA (Florida),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Folk-Tales Collected at Miami, Florida,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 30 (1917), p. 227. Source (Internet Archive): Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Folk-Tales Collected at Miami, Florida,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 30 (1917), p. 227.","Said a fellow named Moses, an' he was prayin' to God to take him out de world. An' while he was prayin' to God to take him out de worl', 'Who dere?' 'Moses.' 'Who dere?' 'God.' 'What God want?' 'Want po' Moses.' 'Who?' he said. 'Moses hain't here, his wife here. His wife do as well.' 'Come here, Moses, an' go to God.' Say, 'Where my shoes?' 'You know where you shoes are. Dey under de bed dere.' 'Where's my hat?' 'You know where you hat is. You go git it.' 'O God! stan' one side! You so high, I can't go over you. You so wide, I can't go around you. You so low, I can't go under you. Stan' one side!' Den he stood one side. Him an' God, what a race den dey had! An' he jumped over a high railin' fence, an' de fence fell on him. An' he said, 'Get off me, God, get off me!' An' God never did get off.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
845,The Lord and Langton,USA (Virginia),NA,"Source (Internet Archive): A. M. Bacon and E. C. Parsons, 'Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 35 (1922), no. 62, p. 295. Source (JSTOR): A. M. Bacon and E. C. Parsons, 'Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 35 (1922), no. 62, p. 295.","Every night he did that, people began to notice it: so some mischievous boys said that they would try his faith. One night they came to the old man's door, and waited until the old man began to pray. When he got to his old saying, one of them knocked on the door, -- bam, bam, bam! The old man stopped praying and listened, and no one said anything. After a while he began again; and soon he said, 'O Lord! please come and take poor Langton home out of his sufferings!' One of the boys knocked on the door, -- blip, blip, blip! The old man stopped again, and asked, 'Who is that?' One of them replied, 'The Lord has come to take poor Langton home out of his sufferings.' The man jumped off his knees and blew the light out, then with a very excited voice exclaimed, 'Langton has been dead and gone a fortnight!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
845,The Lord and Toby,USA (Virginia),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Portia Smiley, 'Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 32 (1919), 361-62. Source (Internet Archive): Portia Smiley, 'Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 32 (1919), 361-62.","Man prayin' all de time: 'O Lord! Send down thy angel to take ol' Toby home, Toby's tired o' living. O Lord! Send down thy angel to take ol' Toby home.' So his master knocked at de do'. Said, 'Who's dat?' 'Oh, de Lord sent his angel to take Toby home.' Toby said, 'I say, can't de Lord take jokin'? Mo'ober, Toby's gone to de nex' neighbor, an' I don' know when he's gwine come back.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
845,The Old Man and Death (Jacobs),Aesop (Joseph Jacobs),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Æsop (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), no. 69, pp. 164-65. Source (Internet Archive): Joseph Jacobs, The Fables of Æsop (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), no. 69, pp. 164-65.","As he spoke, Death, a grisly skeleton, appeared and said to him: 'What wouldst thou, Mortal? I heard thee call me.' 'Please, sir,' replied the woodcutter, 'would you kindly help me to lift this faggot of sticks on to my shoulder?'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
845,The Old Man and Death (Tolstoy),Leo Tolstoy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Leo Tolstoy, The Complete Works of Count Tolstoy: Fables for Children (Boston: Dana Estes and Company, 1904), p. 13. Source (Internet Archive): Leo Tolstoy, The Complete Works of Count Tolstoy: Fables for Children (Boston: Dana Estes and Company, 1904), p. 13.","He grew tired, so he put down his bundle, and said: 'Oh, if Death would only come!' Death came, and said: 'Here I am, what do you want?' The Old Man was frightened, and said: 'Lift up my bundle!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1174,The Devil's Mill,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s. The episode of making a rope of sand is a type 1174 folktale. In most versions of this tale the devil is unsuccessful in completing this task. The episode of the candle that does not burn out is a type 1187 folktale.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Roscommon >> Bealach, pp. 186-90.","There was a squire one time and he wanted money badly and the devil appeared to him and he asked him if he wanted money and he said he did. The devil said he would give him a room of money on conditions that he would go with him at the end of twenty-one years and if he was not able he would give work to do what he would not be able to do. They made a bargain for a roomful of gold and the devil sent his men to fill the room with with gold. When they were shovelling in the gold they were getting tired and the squire had a hole made in the floor and his men were bringing it away into another room so the devil stopped his men from shovelling and he called up the squire and the squire told him he had enough. So at the end of twenty-one years the devil was to come for the squire, and if the squire gave him work to do he would not go with him. The squire began to live in happiness and pleasure with all the gold he had until the twenty-one years were up. Then he began to get down-hearted and did not know what to do. He was retired to his room, and he was reading his bible and trying to content himself. The devil appeared to him and told him to be preparing that in a week his twenty-one years would be up, so when the twenty-one years were up the devil came to him in the room and told him he would have to give him something to do and if he was able to do it he would have to go with him tomorrow. The squire brought the devil to a river in his own land and he said that he would have to build a mill two story high and have it built and slated before twelve o'clock the next day. The squire thought the devil would not be able to build it that short of time. Early next morning he was called by one of his servants and the servant told him that the mill was built below at the river; he got up and went down to the mill, and he did not know what to do. So home he went and began to read his bible until the devil was with him and asked him was he ready to come or did he see the mill. The squire said he did and it was a great mill and it would take a week to prepare. He said he could not that he would have to come now and give him work. He would give him no time, and his wife was arguing with her servants. Is there anything you cannot do try said the devil, 'can you stop a woman's tongue' if you stop my ladies tongue. The devil disappeared out of the room and the servants ran up the stairs to the master and said the wife was dying and when he went down she was dead. Now said the devil is there anything else you have to do. You will have to give me until I bury my wife. The squire locked himself up in the room reading the bible and trying to convert himself. The devil had him anoyed and wanted him to bury his wife. He did not bury her for seven days so the devil was trying to get him to go and he was reading the bible night and day. After he burying his wife the devil came and said he should come now. The squire wanted him to give wait for three days and it was no use he would not give him three hours. He said he would not go until one day and he said he would sooner be dead than alive. The devil said he bring him one way as the other dead or alive. The squire said he would like to be hanged with a certain class of a rope a rope that would be made of sand of the sea shore. The devil struck him the rope of sand and blinded one eye in him. He asked five minutes more off him and he said he would not give so the squire began to cry. The candle he had was nearly burned out and he asked him him to give him until the candle was burned out and the devil said he would and the squire quenched the candle and the candle was never burned out from that day to this. The squire said he would not go until the candle was burned out and he said it would never be burned out so the devil went out the door mad. Got by, Told by, Ellen Rattigan, John Oates, Kilroosky, Kilroosky, Roscommon. Roscommon. Age 70 years.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1175,The Deceived Devil,Germany,Translated by D. L. Ashliman.,"Source (books.google.com): Ernst Meier, 'Der angeführte Teufel,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 33, pp. 120-22. Source (Internet Archive): Ernst Meier, 'Der angeführte Teufel,' Deutsche Volksmärchen aus Schwaben: Aus dem Munde des Volks gesammelt (Stuttgart: C. P. Scheitlin's Verlagshandlung, 1852), no. 33, pp. 120-22.","A young man made the following contract with the devil: The devil was to provide the man with money. In return, at a predetermined time the man was to give the devil work that would keep him busy an entire day. If the man were able to do this, then the devil would have given him the money for nothing. If he were not able to do this, then the man would belong to the devil, and the latter would be able to take him away. It came to pass that the time lapsed just as the man was celebrating his wedding. A boy came up to him and told him that a strange gentleman was outside who wanted to speak with him. The man immediately remembered the devil and did not go. The boy returned and called for him again, but still he did not go. Then the devil came inside personally and demanded either a task or the man himself. The man showed him a field of clover and told him to mow it. This would have taken a single man several days, but the devil finished it in an instant and demanded another task. Then the man took a bushel of clover seeds, scattered them over the field, and told the devil to gather them back up. It was a simple matter for him, and he was finished in a half hour. The man became terrified when the devil asked for yet another task. Then the man's bride noticed her husband's concern and said, 'What is the matter? Why do you keep running in and out?' The man confessed everything to her and told her of the danger that he now faced. The bride said, 'I will help you. You should have told me about it earlier!' Plucking out one of her short curly hairs, she gave it to her husband and said, 'Take this to the devil and demand that he straighten it!' The man did this. The devil made an ugly face, then picked and pulled and bent away at the hair. He even placed it on an anvil and tried to pound it straight with a hammer, but it was all for nothing. The devil was not able to complete this task that day. The hair remained curly and crooked, and he was tricked out of his prize.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1176,A Funny Story,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Galway >> Cill Iubhair, pp. 10-12.",They played all night and before they stopped playing they won ten pounds each. When they were going to part the devil said he would call to see them in twelve months time. One of them was a tailor and the other a shoemaker. Then the devil said 'If ye have not a job that I am not able to do the two of ye will have to come with me.' So the two men went home thinking of their job. When the twelve months were up the devil came knocking at the tailor's door. The tailor said 'Come in.' When he opened the door who was there but the devil looking for his job. So the tailor got a box of scrap and told him to make a candle and light it for him. Then the devil started off fiddling with the box of scrap until he made his candle. When he had it made he took out a box of matches and lit it for him. He said he would have to come with him. Then the devil went to the shoemaker and he was in bed. He never thought of his job. He asked him had he a job and the shoemaker said nothing only started to laugh at the devil. He let a big shout out of him and said 'Wax that and put a bristle on it.',Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1176,A Story,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Leitrim >> Advarney, pp. 160-61.","Once upon a time there were three men round on a holiday through the world. While they were on the journey they never went to mass. One of them was an Irishman, the other a Scotchman, and the other an Englishman. When the three men died they went to Hell. They met the devil. They asked the devil to let them out, but he would not. They kept asking him day after day to let them out, but he would not. He thought of a plan. He asked the three men to think of a question and within three days to have the question thought of and not to tell each of them what they were thinking of. The day came at last when they wer to be called out. The Englishman was the first to be called out. He said to the devil. 'We have some cattle grazing out in a field. We have a certain name on one cow. Could you tell it to me?' The devil took his magic fan and said some words, and he brought the cow up beside him, so he was able to know the name. He wasn't going to get out. It was the Scotchman's turn now. He said to the devil. 'We have a big brewery out in the world and we have a name on a certain name on a bottle of whiskey. Could you tell me that name?' The devil got his magic fan again, and he brought the bottle there beside them. He wasn't going to get out either. It was the Irishman's turn now, so he whistled a tune. When it was finished, he said, 'Sew a button on that now.' The devil was not able to do that. So he had to let the three of them out. Information received from: Written by: Mr. James Harte Maura Meehan Kilcoon, Kilcoon, Dromahair, Dromahair, (age 40 years) (age 12 years)",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,A Story,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Roscommon >> Kilmore, p. 166.","This hapened on a Hallow Eve night. There were two girls living in this house. Their names were Peg and Etna. Peg was very rough and wild but Etna was very mild and gentle. They were playing tricks with the object of seeing their future husband. It was said that anyone who would get into a haunted room and start peeling an apple while looking into the mirror would see her future husband in the mirror. Peg took courage and braved it. As she started to peel the apple she heard terrible laughing. Immediately she saw a man in the mirror. The next day a man came to this old haunted ruin. It was the very same man she saw in the mirror the night before. Then Peg fell very much in love with him. They planned that they would get married and then go away. They were to go on a certain night, and Peg arranged that Etna was to go to bed early that night. At a late hour the knock came to the door. By some stroke of ill-luck Peg was not ready to answer the door. Then Etna came down the stairs and she had a good light. She looked down at the feet and what did she see but the cloven feet. She knew then the visitor was no other than the devil. She pointed out this to Peg and she saved her from eternal damnation. Peg got very ill and never did much good after. That ended the Hallow E'en tricks in that neighbourhood for a long and many a day after. Ettie Millar, 6th May, 1938.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,Hallow-E'n,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Donegal >> Derries, pp. 78-79.",Collector: Mary McCafferty. Informant: Bernard McCafferty.,Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,Hallowe'en Customs,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Roscommon >> Abbeytown Convent N. S., pp. 117-120.","In the evening the woman of the house makes a sweet cake and puts a ring in it,. At supper that night whoever happens to get the ring is supposed to be the first to get married. Two nuts are also placed beside the fire and the name of a boy and girl put on each of them. If they happen to jump into the fire they will not be married, but if they remain together they will. Three saucers are then procured, water is placed in one, clay in another and a ring on the third. Then the company are blindfolded on turn. If they touch the water, they will cross water before the year is out. If they touch clay they will die, and if they ring is touched they will be married. This custom is never practised nowadays, but was practised much long ago. One of the girls of the house went into a dark room and peeled an apple before a mirror. At the hour of midnight she was supposed to see the face of her future husband in the glass. About sixty years ago a girl named McDonagh who live in Keash was said to have seen her future husband one Hallowe'en night. About two months afterwards she was returning from the town one evening when she met the very same (roads) man as she had seen in the looking-glass. On the instant she fell in a faint on the road. She never recovered from the shock and in less than three months afterwards, she died. The following custom was also practised long ago. One of the girls of the house went to a lime-kiln at the hour of mid-night and brought a ball of wool with her. She threw the wool into the lime-kiln and held the end of the thread. She then shouted 'who holds the wool?' three times and her future husband was supposed to shout up his name. On this night also cabbage is strewn about the roads and in the towns the knockers on the door are tied together. The above was told by: Mr. Cryan, Tully, County Sligo. Written by: Maeve Turbitt, Boyle, County Roscommon. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,Halloween,Scotland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Robert Burns, Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect (Kilmarnock: Printed by John Wilson, 1786), pp. 100-117. Source (Internet Archive): Robert Burns, Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect (Edinburgh: Printed for the author and sold by William Creech, 1787), pp. 154-73.","Editor's Note (DLA) In twenty-eight rhymed stanzas Rober Burns describes how 'some merry, friendly, countra folks' convened on Halloween to perform various traditional rituals, with the hope of thus conjuring up images of their future marriage partners. Each ritual, described in Scottish dialect, is elucidated with an explanatory footnote. Foreword The following POEM will, by many Readers, be well enough understood; but, for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, Notes are added, to give some account of the principal Charms and Spells of that Night, so big with Prophecy to the Peasantry in the West of Scotland. The passion of prying into Futurity makes a striking part of the history of Human-nature, in it's rude ftate, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such should honor the Author with a perusal, to see the remains of it, among the more unenlightened in our own. Preface Yes! Let the Rich deride, the Proud disdain, The simple pleasures of the lowly train; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art. GOLDSMITH Note to the Title 'Halloween' Is thought to be a night when Witches, Devils, and other mischief making beings, are all abroad on their baneful, midnight errands: particularly, those aerial people, the Fairies, are said, on that night, to hold a grand Anniversary. Note to Stanza 4 The first ceremony of Halloween, is, pulling each a Stock or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their Spells -- the husband or wife. If any yird, or earth, stick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and the taste of the cufloc, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question. Note to Stanza 6 They go to the barn-yard, and pull each, at three several times, a stalk of Oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will want the Maidenhead. Note to Stanza 7 Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire; and according as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the Courtship will be. Note to Stanza 11 Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strcitly observe these directions. Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot, a clew of blue yarn; wind it in a new clew off the old one; and towards the latter end, something will hold the thread: demand, wha hands? i. e. who holds? and answer will be returned from the kiln pot, by naming the christian and sirname of your future Spouse. Note to Stanza 13 Take a candle, and go, alone, to a looking glass: eat an apple before it, and some traditions say you should comb your hair all the time: the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder. Note to Stanza 16 Steal out, unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp seed; harrowing it with any thing you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat, now and then, 'Hemp seed I saw thee, Hemp seed I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true love, I come after me and pou thee.' Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say, 'come after me and shaw thee,' that is, show thyself; in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, 'come after me and harrow thee.' Note to Stanza 21 This charm must likewise be performed, unperceived and alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors; taking them off the hinges, if possible; for there is danger, that the Being, about to appear, may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that inftrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country dialect, we call a wecht; and go thro' all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time, an apparition will pass thro' the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question and the appearance or retinue, marking the employment or station in life. Note to Stanza 23 Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a Bear-stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time, you will catch in your arms, the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow. Note to Stanza 24 You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south-running spring or rivulet, where 'three Lairds' lands meet,' and dip your left shirt-sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Ly awake; and sometime near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it. Note to Stanza 27 Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another, and leave the third empty: blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand: if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of Matrimony, a Maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the dishes is aliered.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,Midsummer Superstitious Customs,"Cornwall, England",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall, second series (London: John Camden Hotten, 1865), pp. 172-73. Source (Internet Archive): Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall, second series (London: John Camden Hotten, 1865), pp. 172-73.","If on midsummer-eve a young woman takes off the shift which she was been wearing, and, having washed it, turns its wrong side out, and hangs it in silence over the back of a chair, near the fire, she will see, about midnight, her future husband, who deliberately turns the garment. If a young lady will, on midsummer-eve, walk backwards into the garden and gather a rose, she has the means of knowing who is to be her husband. The rose must be cautiously sewn up in a paper bag, and put aside in a dark drawer, there to remain until Christmas-day. On the morning of the Nativity the bag must be carefully opened in silence, and the rose placed by the lady in her bosom. Thus she must wear it to church. Some young man will either ask for the rose, or take it from her without asking. That young man is destined to become eventually the lady's husband. At eve last midsummer no sleep I sought, But to the field a bag of hemp-seed brought; I scatter'd round the seed on every side, And three times in a trembling accent cried, -- 'This hemp-seed with my virgin hands I sow, Who shall my true love be, the crop shall mow.' I straight look'd back, and, if my eyes speak truth, With his keen scythe behind me came the youth. Gay's Pastorals The practice of sowing hemp-seed on midsummer-eve is not especially a Cornish superstition, yet it was at one time a favorite practice with young women to try the experiment. Many a strange story have I been told as to the result of the sowing, and many a trick could I tell of, which has been played off by young men who had become acquainted with the secret intention of some maidens. I believe there is but little difference in the rude rhyme used on the occasion, -- Hemp-seed I sow, Hemp-seed I hoe, (the action of sowing the seed and of hoeing it in, must be deliberately gone through); -- And he Who will my true love be Come after me and mow. A phantom of the true lover will now appear, and of course the maid or maidens retire in wild affright. If a young unmarried woman stands at midnight on midsummer-eve in the porch of the parish church, she will see, passing by in procession, every one who will die in the parish during the year. This is so serious an affair that it is not, I believe, often tried. I have, however, heard of young women who have made the experiment. But every one of the stories relates that, coming last in the procession, they have seen shadows of themselves; that from that day forward they have pined, and ere midsummer has again come round, that they have been laid to rest in the village graveyard.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,"Rhamanta, or Romantic Divination",Wales,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Wirt Sikes, British Goblins: Welsh Folk-Lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends, and Traditions, 2nd edition (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1880), pp. 302-305. Source (Internet Archive): Wirt Sikes, British Goblins: Welsh Folk-Lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends, and Traditions, 2nd edition (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1880), pp. 302-305.","The customs of rhamanta, or romantic divination, by which lovers and sweethearts seek to pierce the future, are many and curious, in all parts of Wales. Besides such familiar forms of this widely popular practice as sleeping on a bit of wedding-cake, etc., several unique examples may be mentioned. One known as the Maid's Trick is thus performed; and none must attempt it but true maids, or they will get themselves into trouble with the fairies: On Christmas eve, or on one of the Three Spirit Nights, after the old folks are abed, the curious maiden puts a good stock of coal on the fire, lays a clean cloth on the table, and spreads thereon such store of eatables and drinkables as her larder will afford. Toasted cheese is considered an appropriate luxury for this occasion. Having prepared the feast, the maiden then takes off all her clothing, piece by piece, standing before the fire the while, and her last and closest garment she washes in a pail of clear spring water, on the hearth, and spreads it to dry across a chair-back turned to the fire. She then goes off to bed, and listens for her future husband, whose apparition is confidently expected to come and eat the supper. In case she hears him, she is allowed to peep into the room, should there be a convenient crack or keyhole for that purpose; and it is said there be unhappy maids who have believed themselves doomed to marry a monster, from having seen through a cranny the horrible spectacle of a black-furred creature with fiery eyes, its tail lashing its sides, its whiskers dripping gravy, gorging itself with the supper. But if her lover come, she will be his bride that same year. In Pembrokeshire a shoulder of mutton, with nine holes bored in the blade bone, is put under the pillow to dream on. At the same time the shoes of the experimenting damsel are placed at the foot of the bed in the shape of a letter T, and an incantation is said over them, in which it is trusted by the damsel that she may see her lover in his every-day clothes. In Glamorganshire a form of rhamanta still exists which is common in many lands. A shovel being placed against the fire, on it a boy and a girl put each a grain of wheat, side by side. Presently these edge towards each other; they bob and curtsey, or seem to, as they hop about. They swell and grow hot, and finally pop off the shovel. If both grains go off together, it is a sign the young pair will jump together into matrimony; but if they take different directions, or go off at different times, the omen is unhappy. In Glamorganshire also this is done: A man gets possession of a girl's garters, and weaves them into a true lover's knot, saying over them some words of hope and love in Welsh. This he puts under his shirt, next his heart, till he goes to bed, when he places it under the bolster. If the test be successful the vision of his future wife appears to him in the night. A curious rhamanta among farm-women is thus described by a learned Welsh writer [Cynddelw, Manion Hynafiaethol, 53]: The maiden would get hold of a pullet's first egg, cut it through the middle, fill one half-shell with wheaten flour and the other with salt, and make a cake out of the egg, the flour, and the salt. One half of this she would eat; the other half was put in the foot of her left stocking under her pillow that night; and after offering up a suitable prayer, she would go to sleep. What with her romantic thoughts, and her thirst after eating this salty cake, it was not perhaps sur prising that the future husband should be seen, in a vision of the night, to come to the bedside bearing a vessel of water or other beverage for the thirsty maid. Another custom was to go into the garden at midnight, in the season when 'black seed' was sown, and sow leeks, with two garden rakes. One rake was left on the ground while the young woman worked away with the other, humming to herself the while: Y sawl sydd i gydfydio, Doed i gydgribinio! Or in English: He that would a life partner be, Let him also rake with me. There was a certain young Welshwoman who, about eighty years ago, performed this rhamanta, when who should come into the garden but her master! The lass ran to the house in great fright, and asked her mistress, 'Why have you sent master out into the garden to me?' 'Wel, wel,' replied the good dame, in much heaviness of heart, 'make much of my little children!' The mistress died shortly after, and the husband eventually married the servant. The sterner sex have a form of rhamanta in which the knife plays a part. This is to enter the churchyard at midnight, carrying a twca, which is a sort of knife made out of an old razor, with a handle of sheep or goat-horn, and encircle the church edifice seven times, holding the twca at arm's length, and saying, 'Dyma'r twca, p'le mae'r wain?' (Here's the twca, where's the sheath?)",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,Saint Andrew's Eve,Germany / Austria,In later editions this legend is numbered 115.,"Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Andreas-Nacht,' Deutsche Sagen (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 114, pp. 171-72. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Andreas-Nacht,' Deutsche Sagen (Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung, 1816), no. 114, pp. 171-72.","It is believed that on Saint Andrew's Eve, Saint Thomas's Eve, Christmas Eve, and New Year's Eve a maiden can conjure up and see her future beloved. To do so she must set a table for two, but no forks can be included with the untensils. Whatever is left behind by the lover must be carefully set aside. Later he will return to the person who has it and love her passionately. However, he must not see the object, for it would remind him of the torment he endured that night when he had been overcome by supernatural powers. Great misfortune would follow. Once in Austria a beautiful maiden wanted to see her future beloved. At midnight, following the necessary rituals, a shoemaker with a dagger appeared to her. He threw the dagger in her direction and then disappeared. She picked up the dagger and and locked it in her chest. Soon afterward the shoemaker came to her and asked her to marry him. Some years after their marriage, on a Sunday after mass, she went to her chest to get some handwork for the following day. Her husband came up to her just as she was opening the chest, and he wanted to see what was inside. She tried to keep him away, but he pushed her aside, looked into the chest, and saw the lost dagger. He picked it up and demanded to know how she came to have the dagger that he had lost some time ago. Frightened and confused, she confessed that this was the dagger that he had left with her that night when she had magically seen him. With anger he shouted at her: 'Whore! So you are the hussy who frightend me so terribly that night!' And he stabbed her through the heart with the dagger. This story is told at various places and about different individuals. For example, there is an oral account about a hunter who left his hunting knife. When his wife was recovering from childbirth she sent him to her chest to fetch some bedding, not thinking about the magical item that was there. He found the hunting knife and killed her with it.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,Superstitions,Germany,"If an unmarried woman pours molten lead into cold water on Christmas Eve, the lead will take the shape of her future husband's workday tools. (97) Unmarried women who desire husbands should, on the night before Saint Andrew's day, naked, call on this saint, and their loved ones will appear to them in their sleep. (100) If a girl wishes to know what kind of hair her future loved one has, on Christmas Eve she should reach backwards out the door, and she shall hold the hair in her hand. (102) To learn if she shall marry within the next year, a virgin should knock on the chicken coop on Christmas Eve or at midnight. If a rooster cackles she will, if a hen cackles she will not. (105) To discover if her future lover will be upright or crooked, a girl must stand against a cord or a stack of wood on Christmas Eve and pull a log out backwards; her lover will be like the log. (109) To discover the name of her future husband, a girl must take a strand of the yarn first spun one morning, then stretch it across the house door. The first man to walk by will have the same name as her future husband. (110) Christmas Eve between 11 and 12 o'clock all single girls wake up. To learn whether or not they will marry in the next year, they take off all their clothes, stick their heads into the kitchen kettle and watch the bubbling water. (506) If, between eleven and twelve o'clock on Saint Andrew's Eve, a girl melts lead in a spoon then pours it through a key with a cross-shaped cut in its beard, the lead will take the shape of her future husband's workday tools. (579) On Saint Andrew's Eve unmarried girls form a circle around a goose. The first girl that the goose turns toward will be the next one to marry. (847) On Saint John's Eve between eleven and twelve o'clock the unmarried girls pick nine kinds of blossoms, and these must include clover, cranesbill, and rue. These blossoms are woven into a wreath. The thread that holds it together must be spun in that same hour. When the wreath is finished, one of the girls throws it backwards against a tree. However many times it is thrown without hanging to the tree is how many years it will be before she marries. This must be done without anyone saying a word. (848) Some girls take an inherited key and a ball of yarn, then wind the yarn onto the key, as much as will fit, with about one or two yards hanging loose. This they hang out of the window, moving it back and forth from side to side while saying, 'Listen! Listen!' The direction that they hear a voice coming from tells them where they will marry and make their future home. (954) The day before Christmas Eve a girl can cut nine kinds of wood, then at midnight make a fire with it in the main room. Then she will take off all her clothes and throw her shifts out of the door while saying, 'I'm sitting here bare naked, waiting for my beloved to come and throw my shift in to me.' Her beloved will come and throw the shift in to her, and she will recognize his face. (955) Other girls take four onions and place one in each corner of the main room, giving each onion the name of a young man. They leave the onions in place from Christmas until Three Kings Day. Whoever's onion has sprouted, he will be the girl's husband. If none of the onions have sprouted, there will be no wedding. (956) A few days before Christmas Eve some girls purchase a penny's worth of white bread. They cut off a piece of the crust and tie it under their right arm and leave it there during the daytime. Upon going to bed on Christmas Eve they say, 'I am lying here with bread; let my beloved come and eat with me!' If the following morning some of the bread has been chewed away, she will marry in the coming year. If the bread is still whole, there is no such hope. (957) In the middle of the night on Christmas Eve a young man or woman can go to the woodpile and pull out a piece of wood. If it is crooked or straight will reveal shape of a future spouse. (958) Girls should pay attention to where the dogs bark on Saint Andrew's Eve. Her groom will come from this area. (964) When the bride takes her clothes off, she must give one of her stockings to a bridesmaid, who will then throw it onto the gathered wedding guests. On whomever the stocking lands, he or she shall be the next to marry. (1106) At the end of the wedding celebration, the bride and groom are to sit down on the marriage bed, fully dressed, except for their shoes and stockings. One of the bridesmaids takes off the groom's stocking, sits down on the floor with her back against the bed and throws it with her left hand over her right shoulder, aiming for the face of the groom. All the bridesmaids then repeat this, and the ones who succeed will soon be married. The the bride's stocking is then removed by the young men and thrown in the same fashion, thereby determining which of them will be next. (1107)","Source (books.google.com): Jacob Grimm, 'Aberglaube: Auszüge aus neueren Samlungen,' Deutsche Mythologie, 4th edition, vol. 3, edited by Elard Hugo Meyer (Berlin: Ferd. Dümmlers Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1878), pp. 434-77. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob Grimm, 'Aberglaube: Auszüge aus neueren Samlungen,' Deutsche Mythologie, 4th edition, vol. 3, edited by Elard Hugo Meyer (Berlin: Ferd. Dümmlers Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1878), pp. 434-77.",The numbers in parentheses refer to the numbered items in the original text by Jacob Grimm.,Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,The Bible and Key Trial,Scotland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): James Napier, Folk Lore; or, Superstitious Beliefs in the West of Scotland within this Century (Paisley: Alex. Gardner, 1879), pp. 106-107. Source (Internet Archive): James Napier, Folk Lore; or, Superstitious Beliefs in the West of Scotland within this Century (Paisley: Alex. Gardner, 1879), pp. 106-107.","A key and Bible were procured, the key being so much longer than the Bible that, when placed between the leaves, the head and handle would project. If the enquiry was about the good faith of a sweetheart, the key was placed in Ruth i. 16, on the words, 'Entreat me not to leave thee: where thou goest I will go,' etc. The Bible was then closed, and tied round with tape. Two neutral persons, sitting opposite each other, held out the forefingers of their right hands, and the person who was consulting the oracle suspended the Bible between their two hands, resting the projecting parts of the key on the outstretched forefingers. No one spoke except the enquirer, and she, as she placed the key and Bible in position, repeated slowly the whole passage, 'Entreat me not to leave thee,' John or James, or whatever the name of the youth was, 'for where thou goest I will go,' etc. If the key and Bible turned and fell off the fingers, the answer was favourable; and generally by the time the whole passage was repeated this was the result, provided the parties holding up the key and Bible were firm and steady. For the detection of a thief, the formula was the same, with only this difference, that the key was put into the Bible at the fiftieth Psalm, and the enquirer named the suspected thief, and then repeated the eighteenth verse of that Psalm, 'When thou sawest a thief then thou consentest with him,' etc. If the Bible turned round and fell, it was held to be proof that the person named was the thief. This method of divining was not frequently practised, not through want of faith in its efficacy, but through superstitious terror, for the movement of the key was regarded as evidence that some unseen dread power was present, and so overpowering occasionally was the impression produced that the young woman who was chief actor in the scene fainted. The parties holding the key and Bible were generally old women, whose faith in the ordeal was perfect, and who, removed by their age from the intenser sympathies of youth, could therefore hold their hands with steadier nerve. It is only when firm hands hold it that the turning takes place, for this phenomenon depends upon the regular and steady pulsations in the fingers, and when held steadily the ordeal never fails.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
737,The Spell,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): John Gay, 'Thursday; or, The Spell,' The Shepherd's Week in Six Pastorals (Dublin: Printed by S. Powell for G. Grierson, 1714), pp. 29-35. Source (Internet Archive): John Gay, 'Thursday; or, The Spell,' The Shepherd's Week in Six Pastorals, edited by H. F. B. Brett-Smith (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1924), pp. 30-38.","I rue the day, a rueful day I trow, The woeful day, a day indeed of woe! When Lubberkin to town his cattle drove, A maiden fine bedight he hapt to love; The maiden fine bedight his love retains, And for the village he forsakes the plains. Return, my Lubberkin, these ditties hear; Spells will I try, and spells shall ease my care. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. When first the year, I heard the cuckow sing, And call with welcome note the budding spring, I straitway set a running with such haste, Deb'rah that won the smock scarce ran so fast. 'Till spent for lack of breath, quite weary grown, Upon arising bank I sat adown, Then doff'd my shoe, and by my troth, I swear, Therein I spy'd this yellow frizled hair, As like to Lubberkin's in curl and hue, As if upon his comely pate it grew. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. At eve last midsummer no sleep I sought, But to the field a bag of hemp-seed brought, I scatter'd round the seed on ev'ry side, And three times in a trembling accent cry'd, This hemp-seed with my virgin hands I sow, Who shall my true-love be, the crop shall mow. I strait look'd back, and if my eyes speak truth, With his keen scythe behind me came the youth. With my tharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. Last Valentine, the day when birds of kind Their paramours with mutual chirpings find; I rearly rose, just at the break of day, Before the sun had chas'd the stars away; A-field I went, amid the morning dew To milk my kine (for so should huswifes do) Thee first I spy'd, and the first swain we see, In spite of fortune shall our true-love be. See, Lubberkin, each bird his partner take, And can'st thou then thy sweetheart dear forsake? With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. Last May-day fair I search'd to find a snail That might my secret lover's name reveal; Upon a gooseberry-bush a snail I found, For always snails near sweetest fruit abound. I seiz'd the vermine, home I quickly sped, And on the hearth the milk-white embers spread. Slow crawl'd the snail, and if I right can spell, In the soft Ashes mark'd a curious L; Oh, may this wondrous omen lucky prove! For L is found in Lubberkin and Love. With my sharp heel threetimes mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. Two hazel-nuts I threw into the flame, And to each nut I gave a sweetheart's name. This with the loudest bounce me sore amaz'd, That in a flame of brightest colour blaz'd. As blaz'd the nut so may thy passion grow, For 'twas thy nut that did so brightly glow. With my tharp heel three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. As peascods once I pluck'd, I chanc'd to see One that was closely fill'd with three times three, Which when I crop'd I safely homeconvey'd, And o'er my door the spell in secret laid. My wheel I turn'd, and sung a ballad new, While from the spindle I the fleeces drew; The latch mov'd up, when who should first come in, But in his proper person, -- Lubberkin. I broke my yarn surpriz'd the sight to see, Sure sign that he would break his word with me. Eftsoons I join'd it with my wonted slight, So may again his love with mine unite! With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. This lady-fly I take from off the grass, Whose spotted back might scarlet red surpass. Fly, lady-bird, north, south, or east or west, Fly where the man is sound that I love best. He leaves my hand, see to the west he's flown, To call my true-love from the faithless town. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. I pare this pippin round and round again, My shepherd's name to flourish on the plain. I fling th' unbroken paring o'er my head, Upon the grass a perfect L is read; Yet on my heart a fairer L is seen Than what the paring makes upon the green. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. This pippin shall another trial make: See from the core two kernels brown I take; This on my cheek for Lubberkin is worn, And Boobyclod on t'other side is born; But Boobyclod soon drops upon the ground, A certain token that his love's unsound, While Lubberkin sticks firmly to the last; Oh were his lips to mine but join'd so fast! With my tharp heel three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. As Lubberkin once slept beneath a tree, I twitch'd his dangling garter srom hi sknee; He wist not when the hempen string I drew, Now mine I quickly doff of inkle blue; Together fast I tye the garters twain, And while I knit the knot repeat this strain; Three times a true-love's knot I tye secure, Firm be the knot, firm may his love endure. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. As I was wont, I trudg'd last market-day To town, with new-laid eggs preserv'd in hay; I made my market long before 'twas night, My purse grew heavy and my basket light. Strait to the pothecary's shop I went, And in love-powder all my mony spent; Behap what will, next Sunday after prayers, When to the ale-house Lubberkin repairs, These golden flies into his mug I'll throw, And soon the swain with fervent love shall glow. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. But hold ---- our Light-foot barks, and cocks his ears. O'er yonder stile see Lubberkin appears. He comes, he comes, Hobnelia's not betray'd, Nor shall she crown'd with willow die a maid. He vows, he swears, he'll give me a green gown, Oh dear! I fall adown, adown, adown!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,A Cobbler in Somersetshire,England,"Gomme's source: The Saturday Review, December 28, 1878.","George Laurence Gomme, English Traditions and Foreign Customs (London: Elliot Stock, 1885), pp. 335-36.","When arrived there, he walked about the whole of the first day without anything occurring; the next day was passed in a similar manner. He resumed his place the third day, and walked about till evening, when, giving it up as hopeless, he determined to leave London, and return home. At this moment a stranger came up and said to him, 'I have seen you for the last three days walking up and down this bridge; may I ask if you are waiting for anyone?' The answer was, 'No.' 'Then, what is your object in staying here?' The cobbler then frankly told his reason for being there, and the dream that had visited him three successive nights. The stranger then advised him to go home again to his work, and no more pay any attention to dreams. 'I myself,' he said 'had about six months ago a dream. I dreamt three nights together that, if I would go into Somersetshire, in an orchard, under an apple tree, I should find a pot of gold; but I paid no attention to my dream, and have remained quietly at my business.' It immediately occurred to the cobbler that the stranger described his own orchard and his own apple tree. He immediately returned home, dug under the apple tree, and found a pot of gold. After this increase of fortune, he was enabled to send his son to school, where the boy learnt Latin. When he came home for the holidays, he one day examined the pot which had contained the gold, on which was some writing. He said, 'Father, I can show you what I have learnt at school is of some use.' He then translated the Latin inscription on the pot thus: 'Look under, and you will find better.' They did look under, and a larger quantity of gold was found.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,A Good Dream,Switzerland,NA,"Source (Core): Johannes Jegerlehner, 'Ein guter Traum,' Sagen und Märchen aus dem Oberwallis: Aus dem Volksmunde gesammelt (Basel: Verlag der Schweizerischen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde, 1913), p. 272. Source (Hathitrust): Johannes Jegerlehner, 'Ein guter Traum,' Sagen und Märchen aus dem Oberwallis: Aus dem Volksmunde gesammelt (Basel: Verlag der Schweizerischen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde, 1913), p. 272.","In Findeln a peasant dreamed that if he would go to Sion he would find his fortune. This he dreamed three times, and so vividly that he decided to go there and see if the dream would be fulfilled. He was just crossing the large bridge in Sion when he met a man who asked him where he was going. He replied that he had dreamed three times that he would find his fortune here, and so he wanted to see if this were true. The man laughed at him for being such a fool. He himself had dreamed that he could find his fortune at the uppermost house in the village of Findeln, but this dream left him cold. The peasant from Findeln returned home and said to himself, 'Now what did that man say? In the uppermost house in the village? That is my house. I'll just have a look!' He dug and dug, and he found a pot full of gold. Thus he did indeed find his fortune in Sion. (Visperterminen)",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,A Kerry Man,Ireland,The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s. The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Limerick >> Baile Giolla tSionáin (B.), An Gleann, p. 180.","The Dublin man told him that he was a foolish man, and to go home. For he heard of a pot of gold in Kerry, in the corner of a haggard [haystack enclosure] under an apple tree. The Kerry man found out that it was his own haggard, and he went home and opened a hole under the tree and got a pot of gold.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,Digging Up Snakes,Germany,"Wolf's source: 'Oral.' Gedernheim (now spelled Gadernheim) is a division of the community Lautertal in the German state of Hesse (Hessen). The creatures in this legend are variously identified as Blindschleichen (slow worms, legless lizards that resemble small snakes, or as Schlangen (snakes).","Source (books.google.com): J. W. Wolf, 'Schlangen ausgegraben,' Hessische Sagen (Göttingen: Dieterichsche Buchhandlung; Leipzig: Fr. Chr. Wilh. Vogel, 1853), no. 185, p. 119. Source (Internet Archive): J. W. Wolf, 'Schlangen ausgegraben,' Hessische Sagen (Göttingen: Dieterichsche Buchhandlung; Leipzig: Fr. Chr. Wilh. Vogel, 1853), no. 185, p. 119.","One of them fell to the ground, and he inadvertantly loaded it onto his hand cart with a bundle of twigs, which he hauled home. When he unloaded the cart a roll of money fell out with the twigs. He opened it, and silver thalers rolled out onto the ground. He quickly ran back to the brook and spent the rest of the day looking for the other snakes, but he could not find them. He kept the silver thalers a long time, and no one recognized the pattern that they were stamped with.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,Dreams Should Not Be Ignored,Netherlands,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Friedrich Nicolai, 'Träume sind nicht zu verachten,' Vade Mecum für lustige Leute, vol. 5 (Berlin: August Mylius, 1775), no. 111, pp. 60-61. Source (Internet Archive): Friedrich Nicolai, 'Träume sind nicht zu verachten,' Vade Mecum für lustige Leute, vol. 5 (Berlin: August Mylius, 1775), no. 111, pp. 60-61.","A young man living in Dordrecht had squandered all the wealth inherited from his father and had fallen deeply into debt. In these sad circumstances he did not know where to turn, or what he should do next. He spent many sleepless nights. Exhausted by his worries he finally fell into a fitful slumber. He saw a person before him who told him to travel to Kampen where he would meet someone on the bridge. He should do whatever this person told him to do. Only in this manner would he be able to recover from his miserable condition. The poor fellow saw this as a voice from heaven and set off for Kampen. Arriving safely, he spent most of the day walking back and forth on the bridge, but he did not see anyone who wanted to strike up a conversation with him. Finally a beggar who was seated there spoke to him and asked him why he looked so sad and why he continuously was walking back and forth on the bridge. At first he did not want to tell the beggar why he had come there, and he answered only with trivial comments. Finally, seeing in the beggar an honest and decent person, he related to him the whole story as to why he was there. He finally said, 'I am lost if God does not come to my aid with a miracle.' The beggar answered, 'How could you be so stupid as to put your trust in a dream? Nothing is crazier. If I were so foolhardy, I would go to Dordrecht to dig up a great treasure there. I saw in a dream where it is buried under a certain tree.' He then added details that revealed to the young man from Dordrecht that the treasure tree was in his father's garden. He laughed with the beggar and made fun of himself for having believed in such a dream. But his ridicule was not at all sincere. Soon afterward he took leave of the beggar and hurried back to Dordrecht. He went to the garden, found the location described by the beggar, dug beneath the tree, where he found a great treasure of silver and gold. With this he paid off his debts, and for the rest of his life lived in comfort and pleasure.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,The Golden Fox,Czech Republic / Austria,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Eucharius Ferdinand Christian Oertel, Meine Land- und Wasserreise von Ansbach über München, Passau, Wien, Brünn und Olmüz nach Gräfenberg zum Herrn Wasserdoktor Vincenz Priessnit, im Juli und August 1836 (Nürnberg: Friedrich Campe, 1837), pp. 78-79.","In Prague they tell about a poor man who dreamed that he would find a great treasure if he would go to the Prague Bridge. He went there and waited on the bridge for a long time, until finally he told a passerby about his dream. 'Oh!' said the latter. I too had such a dream. I dreamed that if I were to go the Prater Woods in Vienna, I would find a golden fox that's buried there. I'm not going to travel that far just because of a dream.' However, the poor man did indeed make the trip, and he found the golden fox.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,The Pine Tree of Steltzen,Germany,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Johann Georg Theodor Grässe, 'Die Kiefer zu Steltzen,' Der Sagenschatz des Königreichs Sachsen (Dresden: Verlag von G. Schönfeld's Buchhandlung, 1855), no. 587, pp. 435-36. Source (Internet Archive): Johann Georg Theodor Grässe, 'Die Kiefer zu Steltzen,' Der Sagenschatz des Königreichs Sachsen (Dresden: Verlag von G. Schönfeld's Buchhandlung, 1855), no. 587, pp. 435-36.","The man from Regensburg told him that he had acted foolishly by going so far because of a mere dream. He then told him how he himself had dreamed, that he should go to Steltzen in Voigtland where he would see a big pine tree just outside of the village. If he would dig under it he would find lots of money. He added that if he had gone there he would have had the same bad luck. Then out of pity he gave the peasant a gulden for pocket-money on his return trip. The peasant was glad for this information, because the pine tree was on his own land, and he thought long and hard about what that man had said. He arrived home empty handed. His wife looked at him with angry eyes, but he paid no attention to her. Without saying anything to anyone, he took a hoe and a shovel and went to the tree. To his good luck in a short time he found a copper kettle filled with fine old money. He put as much into his pockets as they would hold and then filled back the hole in the ground. He returned to his wife, and the two of them then went back and took the rest of the money. The pine tree was still standing until recent times and was so well shaped and tall that it could be seen from a distance of five miles.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,The Treasure in Tanslet,Denmark,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Just Mathias Thiele, 'Skatten i Tanslet,' Danmarks Folkesagn, vol. 1 (Copenhagen: C. A. Reitzels Forlag, 1843), pp. 357-58. Source (Internet Archive): Just Mathias Thiele, 'Skatten i Tanslet,' Danmarks Folkesagn, vol. 1 (Copenhagen: C. A. Reitzels Forlag, 1843), pp. 357-58.","There was a man from Als who found a treasure in a strange manner. One night he dreamed that he would find a treasure on a street in Flensburg. Relying on this, he went there. He walked about in the streets of Flensburg, but could not comprehend how he might find a treasure there. A Flensburger came to him and asked why he was walking about like that. He told the man about his dream, but the Flensburger laughed at him, saying, 'In that case I should go to Tanslet on the island of Als, for last night I dreamed that a treasure was buried there.' To this the man said nothing, but immediately returned to Als, and in Tanslet he found the treasure that he had intended to find on a street in Flensburg.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1645,Treasure at Ardnaveagh,Ireland,The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s. The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Limerick >> Coolcappa, Árd-achadh, pp. 271-72.","This time he had a dream and it continued for three nights in succession, that there was a crock of gold for him at the Draws Bridge outside Limerick. He started at four o'clock in the morning, when he arrived there, to his surprise the first person he met was a man coming towards him. He stopped to speak to him. Mr. Keating asked the stranger where he was going. He told him he had a dream that there was a crock of gold at Mr. Keatings of Ardnaveagh, and he came to find it. Would you tell me where the place is. Mr. Keating did not give him any account for he knew it was his own place he was talking about. He hurried home to dig for the gold himself and found it in his own haggard [haystack enclosure] under a white-thorn bush. He never saw the man he met at Draws Bridge afterward.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,A Common Superstition of Mariners,"Scotland, 1803",NA,"John Leyden, Scenes of Infancy: Descriptive of Teviotdale (Edinburgh: Printed by James Ballantyne for T. N. Longman and O. Reese, 1803), pp. 175-76.","It is a common superstition of mariners, that, in the high southern latitudes on the coast of Africa, hurricanes are frequently ushered in by the appearance of a specter-ship, denominated the Flying Dutchman. At dead of night, the luminous form of a ship slides rapidly, with topsails flying, and sailing straight in 'the wind's eye.' The crew of this vessel are supposed to have been guilty of some dreadful crime in the infancy of navigation, and to have been stricken with the pestilence. They were hence refused admittance into every port, and are ordained still to traverse the ocean on which they perished, till the period of their penance expire.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Dæmon-Frigate,"Sir Walter Scott, 1813",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Sir Walter Scott, 'Notes to Canto Second,' Rokeby: A Poem (Boston: Brandford and Read, 1813), note 9, pp. 199-201. Source (Internet Archive): Sir Walter Scott, 'Notes to Canto Second,' Rokeby: A Poem (Edinburgh: James Ballantyne and Company, 1813), note 9, pp. 231-32.","This is an allusion to a well-known nautical superstition concerning a fantastic vessel, called by sailors the Flying Dutchman, and supposed to be seen about the latitude of the Cape of Good Hope. She is distinguished from earthly vessels by bearing a press of sail when all others are unable, from stress of weather, to show an inch of canvass. The cause of her wandering is not altogether certain; but the general account is, that she was originally a vessel loaded with great wealth, on board of which some horrid act of murder and piracy had been committed; that the plague broke out among the wicked crew who had perpetrated the crime, and that they sailed in vain from port to port, offering, as the price of shelter, the whole of their ill-gotten wealth; that they were excluded from every harbour, for fear of the contagion which was devouring them, and that, as a punishment of their crimes, the apparition of the ship still continues to haunt those seas in which the catastrophe took place, and is considered by the mariners as the worst of all possible omens.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Fable of the Flying Dutchman,"Heinrich Heine, The Memoirs of Herr von Schnabelewopski, 1833 You certainly know the fable of the Flying Dutchman. It is the story of an enchanted ship which can never arrive in port, and which since time immemorial has been sailing about at sea. When it meets a vessel, some of the unearthly sailors come in a boat and beg the others to take a packet of letters home for them. These letters must be nailed to the mast, else some misfortune will happen to the ship -- above all if no Bible be on board, and no horseshoe nailed to the foremast. The letters are always addressed to people whom no one knows, and who have long been dead, so that some late descendant gets a letter addressed to a far away great-great-grandmother, who has slept for centuries in her grave.",Link to the German-language original: Die Fabel von dem fliegenden Holländer. The play that Heine ostensibly saw in Amsterdam has not been identified. This short sketch by Heinrich Heine served as the impetus for Richard Wagner's opera Der fliegende Holländer (first performed in 1843).,"The Memoirs of Herr von Schnabelewopski, ch. 7, The Works of Heinrich Heine, translated from the german by Charles Godfrey Leland (Hans Breitmann), vol. 1 (London: William Heinemann, 1903), pp. 130-36.","That wooden ghost, that spook-ship, is so called from the captain, a Dutchman, who once swore by all the devils that he would get round a certain mountain -- its name has escaped me -- in spite of a fearful storm, even if he would have to sail until Judgment Day. The devil took him at his word, therefore he must sail forever, until set free by a woman's loyalty. The devil, in his stupidity, has no faith in female loyalty, and allowed the enchanted captain to land once in seven years and get married, and thus find opportunities to save his soul. The poor Dutchman! He often has been only too glad to escape from his marriage and his wife-savior, and get on board again. The play which I saw in Amsterdam [in the year 1827] was based on this fable. Another seven years have passed; the poor Dutchman is more weary than ever of his endless wandering; he comes ashore, befriends a Scottish nobleman, to whom he sells diamonds at an unbelievably low price, and when he hears that his customer has a beautiful daughter, he asks for her hand in marriage. This bargain is agreed to as well. Next we see the Scotsman's home; with an anxious heart the maiden awaits the bridegroom. With melancholy she often looks up at a large, time-worn picture which hangs in the hall, and depicts a handsome man in Spanish-Dutch clothing. It is an old heirloom, and according to her grandmother, it is a true portrait of the Flying Dutchman as he was seen in Scotland a hundred years earlier, in the time of William of Orange. A warning connected to this portrait has been passed down as well: that the women of the family must beware of the person depicted in the painting. This warning has naturally enough had the result of deeply impressing the features of the dangerous man in the picture in the girl's mind, from her childhood onward. Therefore, when the authentic Flying Dutchman makes his appearance, she is startled, but not from fear. He too is moved when he sees the portrait. But when he is told who it represents, he tactfully turns aside all suspicion, makes fun of the superstition, and ridicules the Flying Dutchman, the Wandering Jew of the Ocean. Nevertheless, now in a melancholy mood, he relates how the gentleman must be suffering horribly out there on the endless waves, how his body is nothing other than a coffin of flesh in which is soul in imprisoned, how life and death alike reject him, like an empty cask scornfully cast ashore by the sea, then contemptuously again set adrift. He further muses that the poor Dutchman's agony must be as deep as the sea on which he sails -- cast between life and death, his ship without anchor, and his heart without hope. I believe that these were, more or less, the words with which the bridegroom ends. The bride looks at him earnestly, now and then casting glances at his portrait. It seems seems that she has guessed his secret; and when he afterwards asks, 'Katherine, will you be true to me?' she answers with resolve, 'True to death.' She cries aloud, 'I was true to you to this hour, and I know how to be true unto death! Saying this she throws herself into the waves, and the enchantment is ended. The Flying Dutchman is redeemed, and we see the ghostly ship slowly sink into the depths of the sea.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Flying Dutchman,South Africa,NA,"Source (books.google.com): R. Montgomery Martin, History of the British Colonies, vol. 4: Possessions in Africa and Austral-Asia (London: James Cochrane and Company, 1835), pp. 57-59. Source (Internet Archive): R. Montgomery Martin, History of the British Colonies, vol. 4: Possessions in Africa and Austral-Asia (London: James Cochrane and Company, 1835), pp. 57-59. li>This account was reprinted in: Army and Navy Chronicle, vol. 3, no. 26 (Washington: December 29, 1836), p. 406.","The supposed origin of the 'Flying Dutchman' is that a vessel from Batavia was on the point of entering Table Bay in stress of weather during the Dutch occupation os the Cape, when in the winter season, no vessel was allowed to enter the bay: the batteries fired on the distressed ship, and compelled it to put to sea, where it was lost, and as the sailors say has continued ever since beating about, and will continue to do so till the day of judgment. The 'Dutchman' is said to appear generally to ships in a heavy gale, with all sail set -- and when the eastern navigator is in a calm, the Dutchman appears to be scudding under bare poles. As many persons think such an apparition the creation of fancy, I give the following statement which was noted down in the logbook of his Majesty's ship Leven, when employed with the Barracouta, &c, in surveying East Africa, and in the dangers and disaster of which squadron I participated. His Majesty's ship Leven, Capt. W. F. W. Owen, on the 6th April, 1823, when off Point Danger, on her voyage from Algoa to Simon's Bay, saw her consort the Barracouta about two miles to leeward; this was considered extraordinary as her sailing orders would have placed her in a different direction; but her peculiar rig left no doubt as to her identity, and at last many well known faces were distinctly visible looking towards the Leven. Capt. Owen attempted to close with her to speak, but was surprised that she not only made no effort to join the Leven, on the contrary stood away: being near the destined port, Capt. Owen did not follow her, and continued on his course to the Cape, but at sunset she was observed to heave to and lower a boat, apparently for the purpose of picking up a man overboard; during the night there was no light nor any symptoms of her locality. The next morning, the Leven anchored in Simon's Bay where for a whole week the Barracouta was anxiously expected. On her arrival (the 14th) it was seen by her log, that she was 300 miles from the Leven, when the latter thought she saw her, and had not lowered any boat that evening; it should also be remarked that no other vessel of the same class was ever seen about the Cape. On another occasion a similar phenomenon was witnessed by the Leven, and a boat was apparently lowered as is generally the case when the phantom seeks to lure his victim. The veteran sailor was not however, to be caught,* and the Leven after many perils, reached England in safety. *It is said that any vessel which the 'Dutchman' can get his letters on board of is certain to be lost. Thrice as a passenger in a merchant ship, I saw a vessel in nearly similar circumstances: on one occasion we hoisted lights over the gang-way to speak with the stranger; the third time was my recent return from India. We had been in 'dirty weather,' as the sailors say, for several days, and to beguile the afternoon I commenced after dinner narrating to the French officers and passengers (who were strangers to the Eastern seas), the stories current about the 'Flying Dutchman.' The wind, which had been freshening during the evening, now blew a stiff gale, and we proceeded on deck to see the crew make our bark all snug for the night. The clouds, dark and heavy, coursed with rapidity across the moon, whose lustre is peculiar in the S. hemisphere, and we could see a distance of from eight to ten miles on the horizon. Suddenly the second officer, a fine Marseilles sailor, who had been among the foremost in the cabin in laughing at and ridiculing the story of the 'Flying Dutchman,' ascended the weather rigging, exclaiming, 'Voila le volant Hollandais!' The captain sent for his night glass, and soon observed, 'It is very strange, but there is a ship bearing down upon us with all sail set, while we dare scarcely show a pocket-handkerchief to the breeze.' In a few minutes the stranger was visible to all on deck; her rig plainly discernible, and people on her poop; she seemed to near us with the rapidity of lightning, and apparently wished to pass under our quarter, as if for the purpose of speaking. The captain, a resolute Bordeaux mariner, said it was quite incomprehensible, and sent for the trumpet to hail or answer, when in an instant, and while we were all standing on the qui vive, the stranger totally disappeared, and was no more seen. I give this, coupled with Capt. Owen's statement as regards H. M. S. Leven, without remark, and, but that it would seem frivolous, could relate several other instances. The reader will, I hope, excuse this digression, which could not well be avoided in treating of the Cape of Good Hope, whose name is almost associated with that of the 'Flying Dutchman.' li>This account was reprinted in: Army and Navy Chronicle, vol. 3, no. 26 (Washington: December 29, 1836), p. 406.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Flying Dutchman of the Tappan Sea,Washington Irving,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Washington Irving, Wolfert's Roost and Other Papers (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1865), p. 28. Source (Internet Archive): Washington Irving, Wolfert's Roost and Other Papers (New York: G. P. Putnam and Company, 1855), p. 23.","The Tappan Sea ... was said to be haunted. Often in the still twilight of a summer evening, when the sea would be as glass, and the opposite hills would throw their purple shadows half across it, a low sound would be heard as of the steady, vigorous pull of oars, though not a boat was to be descried. Some might have supposed that a boat was rowed along unseen under the deep shadows of the opposite shores; but the ancient traditionists of the neighborhood knew better. Some said it was one of the whale-boats of the old Water Guard, sunk by the British ships during the war, but now permitted to haunt its old cruising-grounds; but the prevalent opinion connected it with the awful fate of Rambout van Dam of graceless memory. He was a roistering Dutchman of Spiting Devil, who in times long past had navigated his boat alone one Saturday the whole length of the Tappan Sea, to attend a quilting frolic at Kakiat, on the western shore. Here he had danced and drunk until midnight, when he entered his boat to return home. He was warned that he was on the verge of Sunday morning; but he pulled off nevertheless, swearing he would not land until he reached Spiting Devil, if it took him a month of Sundays. He was never seen afterwards; but may be heard plying his oars, as above mentioned, -- being the Flying Dutchman of the Tappan Sea, doomed to ply between Kakiat and Spiting Devil until the day of judgment.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Phantom Ship,James William Buel,NA,"Source (books.google.com): James William Buel, Heroes of Unknown Seas and Savage Lands (San Francisco: Pacific Publishing Company, 1891), pp. 83-89. Source (Internet Archive): James William Buel, Heroes of Unknown Seas and Savage Lands (San Francisco: Pacific Publishing Company, 1891), pp. 83-89.","The tale of the Phantom Vessel is the best known and most poetical of all the nautical legends. Novelists have used it, poets have embellished it, dramatists have put it on the boards with all the accessories of magnificent scenery, composers have made it familiar to the lovers of music in more than one famous opera. The story is told with variations by the sailors of every land, but a striking similarity exists in the main point of all the legends, -- in each the vessel is condemned to wander forever on account of a great crime committed by the captain. The commonly accepted version of the story is that given by [Augustin] Jal: An unbelieving Dutch captain, endeavoring to double Cape Horn against the force of a head wind, profanely swore that he would persist in his course in spite of the decrees of Providence. Undeterred by the remonstrances of his crew, he laughed at their fears, made some of them, who threatened mutiny, walk the plank from the deck into the sea, and flogged others at the mast. Cries from suffering victims rose to heaven, and holy spirits swooped down before him and made merciful appeals to the enraged wretch, but at some he threw dishwater, at others he fired a pistol, and finally a voice from above proclaimed that on account of his blasphemy he should be condemned forever to sail the sea, the evil genius of sailors. Thus the appearance of the Flying Dutchman is ever dreaded as the forerunner of disaster. O'Reilly sings: Heaven help the ship near which the demon sailor steers, The doom of those is fixed to whom the Phantom Ship appears; They'll never reach their destined port, they'll see their homes no more; They who see the Flying Dutchman never, never reach the shore. In Pursuit of the Spectral Ship The Phantom Ship brings sudden squalls and howling tempests. She leads those who follow in her wake on to shoals, quicksands and reefs. She is the Purgatory of wicked sailors; her skeleton crew is composed of the souls of thieves, murderers, pirates who are condemned to everlasting toil, with no rest, no play, and very little food. The Phantom Ship is never seen twice under the same circumstances. By one she is beheld in the midst of the storm, with all sails set, placidly plowing her way through the wildest billows; by another, she is beheld on a calm night, with sails closely reefed, pitching and tumbling as though in a terrible storm. All the main features of the legend are detailed by [Frederick] Marryatt in his story of The Phantom Ship. In this remarkable sea-tale the incidents are told by her captain, who narrates his adventures from the time when, on account of impiety, he was condemned to wander, until, by the restoration of a relic, his aimless voyages came to an end. The dramatic feature of the tale lies in the fact that the captain's son undertakes his redemption, and filled with a filial purpose follows the Phantom Ship to and fro over the watery waste. He sees her first in a cloud, just at sunset, and his ship approaches so close to the spirit vessel that the whistles of the boatswain, the orders given on the decks, the rattling of the cordage are plainly heard. Again he beholds her in a good breeze, her hull enveloped in mist. A gun is fired from her bow; voices are heard and the trampling of the crew as they man the ropes, and she passes out of sight. Again he sees her as she decoys other vessels into dangerous waters, herself passing over the reef without altering her course, and at last she rises slowly out of the water, a demon ship, and awaits the coming of the boat sent by her pursuers. Ghostly Ships of Extraordinary Proportions The Flying Dutchman is not the only phantom vessel; the sailors of the olden time had many, some of gigantic size. The Frisians believed in a Phantom Ship so large that the captain rode about on horseback giving his orders; the sailors, who, as boys, started aloft to execute an order, came down as old men; in the rigging were dining-halls; the cabin was larger than all England. But even this mighty craft was a toy boat compared to the Chasse Foudre, 'The Lightning Chaser,' of old French mariners, which was so large that seven years were required to tack or change her course; when she rolled, whales were stranded on the shore; thirty thousand men were thirty years in digging the iron to make her hull. Her cables were as thick as the diameter of St. Peter's dome and so long that they could seven times encircle the globe; her lower masts were so tall that a boy grew white-headed before reaching the first yard; her smallest sail was larger than all Europe; twenty-five thousand soldiers could maneuvre on the cap which covered the top of the main-mast; in her forecastle was a garden larger than the whole of France; in every block of the rigging there was a tavern; every quid of tobacco used by one of her sailors would supply a frigate's crew for three years; a dram of grog was composed of seventeen hogsheads of rum, to say nothing of the water. These were stories of the olden times, when the Phantom Ship was in her prime; but within the last three centuries she gradually diminished in size, until sixty years ago she was no larger than an ordinary vessel. She still remained, however, a place of punishment for wicked sailors, and some who beheld her saw death-heads grinning from her ports, a skeleton captain walking her bridge, the corpse of a seaman on the lookout, and a ghost taking his trick at the wheel. She is sometimes inhabited by demons, who chastise the spirits of evil seamen with whips of scorpions; dogs are set to guard the prisoners and inflict ten thousand tortures on the hapless wretches; in her forecastle, cabin and hold, serpents, cats, hobgoblins, creeping things, all kinds of horrors abound. A Monk Who Visited the Islands of the Damned and the Blessed The Phantom Ship takes long voyages; visits strange countries. The lost continent of Atlantis is its frequent destination, although sometimes it lets fall its anchor at the Isles of the Blessed. According to tradition, these were located to the west of Ireland, but judiciously shifted their position as the sea became better known. They were, however, sometimes visited even by the living. St. Brandan, an Irish monk, started to explore them in a phantom boat, and after sailing twenty-four days and nights, came to an island of fiends and volcanoes, where whole fleets of phantom ships were at anchor in the harbor, and spectral sailors wandering to and fro on the shore. Such a spectacle as a monk had never before been seen on the island. He was attacked by the demons, and was only saved by the intercession of a saint more powerful than himself, who conducted him through the island, showed him all the torments in progress, and gave him material for a narrative closely resembling the story of Dante. Leaving this horrid island, after twentyfour days and nights he arrived at the Islands of the Blessed, which were filled with delights of every kind. No night was there, nor heat of the sun; pleasant prospects charmed the eye; soft music from unseen sources fascinated the ear; every flower was fragrant, every taste a pleasure. In this paradisaical place the good monk probably spent the remainder of his days, for we do not hear more of his adventures. Origin of the Ghostly Ship Since the ocean has been thoroughly explored and its lands located, the Islands of the Cursed and of the Blessed have alike disappeared, but not so the spectral ship; and it is a curious fact that science has supported the old sailor in his superstition by often presenting to the most skeptical a view of the phantom vessel. The mirage is more common on the water than on land, and it often happens that a vessel or fleet many miles distant is plainly in view of men on shore, or of mariners at sea. Too many instances are recorded to doubt the fact, and the observers are too cautious to be deceived. During Owen's travels he visited Port Danger, of the South Africa coast, and there he and all with him beheld in the offing the British man-of-war Barracouta. So plainly visible was the vessel that she was recognized by all on shore; even the figures on her deck were plainly to be seen. Some days after she arrived, when it was proven that she was three hundred miles away at the time her spectral counterpart sailed into the harbor and vanished. At Oporto, Lisbon, Marseilles, and other ports of Southern Europe, the phantoms of vessels are often seen during the summer season a day or two before their arrival; in the North Sea, the spectre of a ship upside down is a certain forerunner of bad weather. The Fata Morgana, a daily phenomenon in the Straits of Messina, shows the phantoms of vessels in all sorts of positions and with all kinds of distortion. Sometimes the ship is in the air; sometimes a double reflection is presented in the water; occasionally there are three images of the same vessel, two in the water and one in the air. The tropical seas are full of optical wonders. The Arctic Region abounds with reflected images; of icebergs, of mountains, of continents, of vessels. All these things have become familiar to the modern scientist, and for all a natural explanation has been found. The Flying Dutchman is not an optical delusion, but an optical reality, so the old sailor was right in one particular, the basis of the story; and, given a starting point, the rest was easy. A derelict bark, seen under circumstances of danger, perhaps gave rise to the supernatural appearance of the phantom; a vessel whose crew were all dead of the plague -- a slaver laden with fetid corpses -- gave the idea of the wandering ship haunted by the souls of the dead. The presence of electrical lights at the mast-heads, the brilliancy of the Aurora Borealis, the appearance of peculiar mists, the resonance of the air at certain times, did the rest and embellished the tale with all its fanciful and grotesquely horrible additions. A Real Flying Dutchman There was even a good reason why the wandering vessel should be a Dutchman. At the time the legend was crystallizing the Dutch were the best sailors in the world; cool, impassive, little prone to excitement, their remark able skill was naturally attributed to sorcery. It is even asserted that the Flying Dutchman was a real person, by name Bernard Fokke, of the seventeenth century. He was a reckless, daring seaman who, that he might carry the more sail in a high wind, cased his masts with iron. One voyage to India he made in ninety days, then an unprecedented rate of speed, and so rapidly did he traverse the water-world that even in his own time he was be lieved to be in league with Satan. But Bernard took one risk too many, and setting sail from Amsterdam with the expressed determination to beat his own record to India, was never afterwards heard of, and of course Satan took him and the ship and set them to travelling up and down the world to the be wilderment of better men. Dying Superstition The steamship dissipated the legend by taking away its most attractive feature, for the steam vessel, as easily as the phantom, can move against wind and tide. The use of better lights on board ship banished the ghosts, for it is well known that no ghost can stand the glare of an electric lamp. The old sailor himself will soon be as rare as his spectres, for with improved navigation come increased confidence and decreased credulity. The sailor no longer feels his way across the sea, but calculates exactly where he is, knows how far he has travelled, how far he has still to go. Every rock in the ocean is laid down on the maps, and the seaman knows exactly what course to take to secure the safety of his vessel. He has confidence in his ship, and in his ship's captain; the voyages of the present day are short in comparison to those of former years; appliances for the sailor's safety are more efficient than ever before; the hiss of escaping steam, the crashing of the propellers are a wonderful relief from the dead silence which once reigned over the deep. The sailor knows that on every headland in civilized countries around the globe a lamp blazes, warning him of danger; he hears the steam siren singing from every light-ship, but her voice is significant of peril, not an enticement to destruction. Fear, on eagle pinions, follows banished danger, and with whistle sounding and lights flashing from foretop and sides, with captain and first officer on the bridge, with second and third officers pacing the deck, with double lookout at the bow, the sailor plunges into the fog, forgetful of his phantoms.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Rotterdam,Scotland,Dempster's source: 'I gathered these tales and sayings from the mouths of the folk in the summer of 1859.',"Source (books.google.com): Miss Dempster, 'The Folk-Lore of Sutherlandshire,' The Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 6, part 3 (July to September 1888), pp. 154-55. Source (Internet Archive): Miss Dempster, 'The Folk-Lore of Sutherlandshire,' The Folk-Lore Journal, vol. 6, part 3 (July to September 1888), pp. 154-55.","Once upon a time a wicked sea captain built a ship in which he sailed the high seas, and hoped to conquer the world. When she was launched and manned he called her 'the Rotterdam,' and he said, 'I now fear nor God nor man.' His ship was so large that on her deck there was a garden of fruits and flowers, besides sheep, and milch kine, and provisions of all sorts. He was ignorant of the navigation of the Dernoch Firth, but he tried to enter it, in the hopes of some northwest passage. He ran his ship on the quicksands of the Gizzen Brigs, and there where she sank the fisherman can still see her topgallant, and her bargee, flying and fluttering in the waves. Her crew and her captain must be still alive, for in calm weather they may be heard praying and singing psalms to avert the judgment of the Last Day, when the master of the Rotterdam will be punished. This recalls the account of Vanderdecken's attempt to double the Cape, and the legend of the 'Flying Dutchman.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Sailors Said They Saw the Flying Dutchman,"John MacDonald, 1790",NA,"Source (books.google.com): John MacDonald, Travels in Various Parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa (London: J. Forbes, 1790), p. 76.","The weather was so stormy, that the sailors said they saw the flying Dutchman. The common story is, that this Dutchman came to the Cape in distress of weather, and wanted to get into the harbour, but could not get a pilot to conduct her, and was lost; and that ever since, in very bad weather, her vision appears. The sailors fancy that if you would hail her, she would answer like another vessel.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Spectre Ship of Porthcurno,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall, second series (London: John Camden Hotten, 1865), pp. 141-43. Source (Internet Archive): Robert Hunt, Popular Romances of the West of England; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall, second series (London: John Camden Hotten, 1865), pp. 141-43.","Porthcurno Cove is situated a little to the west of the Logan Stone. There, as in nearly all the coves around the coast, once existed a small chapel or oratory, which appears to have been dedicated to St. Leven. There exists now a little square enclosure about the size of a (bougie) sheep's house, which is all that remains of this little holy place. Looking up the valley, (Bottom,) you may see a few trees, with the chimney-tops and part of the roof of an old-fashioned house. That place is Raftra, where they say St. Leven Church was to have been built; but as fast as the stones were taken there by day, they were removed by night to the place of the present church. (These performances are usually the act of the devil, but I have no information as to the saint or sinner who did this work.) Raftra House, at the time it was built, was the largest mansion west of Penzance. It is said to have been erected by the Tresillians, and, ere it was finished, they appear to have been obliged to sell house and lands for less than it had cost them to build the house. This valley is in every respect a melancholy spot, and during a period of storms, or at night, it is exactly the place which might well be haunted by demon revellers. In the days of the saint from whom the parish has its name -- St. Leven -- he lived a long way up from the cove, at a place called Bodelan, and his influence made that, which is now so dreary, a garden. By his pure holiness he made the wilderness a garden of flowers, and spread gladness where now is desolation. Few persons cared to cross that valley after nightfall; and it is not more than thirty years since that I had a narrative from an inhabitant of Penberth, that he himself had seen the spectre ship sailing over the land. This strange apparition is said to have been observed frequently, coming in from sea about nightfall, when the mists were rising from the marshy ground in the Bottoms. Onward came the ill-omened craft. It passed steadily through the breakers on the shore, glided up over the sands, and steadily pursued its course over the dry land, as if it had been water. She is described to have been a black, square-rigged, single-masted affair, usually, but not always, followed by a boat. No crew was ever seen. It is supposed they were below, and that the hatches were battened down. On it went to Bodelan, where St. Leven formerly dwelt. It would then steer its course to Chygwiden, and there vanish like smoke. Many of the old people have seen this ship, and no one ever saw it, upon whom some bad luck was not sure to fall. This ship is somehow connected with a strange man who returned from sea, and went to live at Chygwiden. It may be five hundred years since -- it may be but fifty. He was accompanied by a servant of foreign and forbidding aspect, who continued to be his only attendant; and this servant was never known to speak to any one save his master. It is said by some they were pirates; others make them more familiar, by calling them privateers; while some insist upon it they were American bucaneers. Whatever they may have been, there was but little seen of them by any of their neighbours. They kept a boat at Porthcurno Cove, and at daylight they would start for sea, never returning until night, and not unfrequently remaining out the whole of the night, especially if the weather was tempestuous. This kind of sea-life was varied by hunting. It mattered not to them whether it was day or night; when the storm was loudest, there was this strange man, accompanied either by his servant or by the devil, and the midnight cry of his dogs would disturb the country. This mysterious being died, and then the servant sought the aid of a few of the peasantry to bear his coffin to the churchyard. The corpse was laid in the grave, around which the dogs were gathered, with the foreigner in their midst. As soon as the earth was thrown on the coffin, man and dogs disappeared, and, strange to say, the boat disappeared at the same moment from the cove. It has never since been seen; and from that day to this no one has been able to keep a boat in Porthcurno Cove.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,The Story of the Flying Dutchman,A Voyage to New South Wales (1795),NA,"George Barrington, A Voyage to New South Wales (London, 1795), pp. 45-47.","I had often heard of the superstition of sailors respecting apparitions, but had never given much credit to the report; it seems that some years since a Dutch man-of-war was lost off the Cape of Good Hope, and every soul on board perished; her consort weathered the gale, and arrived soon after at the Cape. Having refitted, and returning to Europe, they were assailed by a violent tempest nearly in the same latitude. In the night watch some of the people saw, or imagined they saw, a vessel standing for them under a press of sail, as though she would run them down; one in particular affirmed it was the ship that had foundered in the former gale, and that it must certainly be her, or the apparition of her; but on its clearing up, the object (a dark thick cloud) disappeared. Nothing could do away the idea of this phenomenon on the minds of the sailors; and, on their relating the circumstances when they arrived in port, the story spread like wildfire, and the supposed phantom was called the Flying Dutchman. From the Dutch the English seamen got the infatuation, and there are very few Indiamen, but what has someone on board, who pretends to have seen the apparition. About two in the morning I was waked by a violent shake by the shoulder, when, starting up in my hammock, I saw the boatswain, with evident signs of terror and dismay in his countenance, standing by me. 'For God's sake, messmate,' said he, 'hand us the key of the case, for by the Lord I'm damnably scarified; for, d'ye see, I was just looking over the weather bow, what should I see but the Flying Dutchman coming right down upon us, with everything set -- I know 'twas she -- I cou'd see all her lower-deck ports up, and the lights fore and aft, as if cleared for action. Now as how, d'ye see, I am sure no mortal ship could bear her lower-deck ports up and pot founder in this here weather. Why, the sea runs mountains high. It must certainly be the ghost of that there Dutchman, that foundered in this latitude, and which, I have heard say, always appears in this here quarter, in hard gales of wind.' After taking a good pull or two at the Holland's [a bottle], he grew a little composed, when I jokingly asked him if he was afraid of ghosts? 'Why, as to that, d'ye see,' said he, 'I think as how I'm as good as another man; but I'd always a terrible antipathy to those things. Even when I was a boy, I never could find it in my heart to cross a churchyard in the dark without whistling and hallooing, to make them believe I had company with me, for I've heard say they appear but to one at a time; for now, when I called to Joe Jackson, who was at the helm, to look over the weather bow, he saw nothing; tho', ask how, I saw it as plain as this here bottle,' taking another swig at the Geneva. Having some curiosity to see if I could make out anything that could take such an appearance, I turned out, and accompanied him upon deck; but it had cleared up, the moon shining very bright, and not a cloud to be seen; though, by what I could learn from the rest of the people who were on deck, it had been very cloudy about half an hour before, of course I easily divined what kind of phantom had so alarmed my messmate.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,Vanderdecken's Message Home,"Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, 1821)",NA,"'Vanderdecken's Message Home; or, The Tenacity of Natural Affection,' Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, vol. 9, no. 50 (May 1821), pp. 127-31.","At two p.m. we had a squall, accompanied by thunder and rain. The seamen, growing restless, looked anxiously ahead. They said we would have a dirty night of it, and that it would not be worth while to turn into their hammocks. As the second mate was describing a gale he had encountered off Cape Race, Newfoundland, we were suddenly taken all aback, and the blast came upon us furiously. We continued to scud under a double reefed mainsail and foretopsail till dusk; but, as the sea ran high, the captain thought it safest to bring her to. The watch on deck consisted of four men, one of whom was appointed to keep a lookout ahead, for the weather was so hazy, that we could not see two cables' length from the bows. This man, whose name was Tom Willis, went frequently to the bows, as if to observe something; and when the others called to him, inquiring what he was looking at, he would give no definite answer. They therefore went also to the bows, and appeared startled, and at first said nothing. But presently one of them cried, 'William, go call the watch.' The seamen, having been asleep in their hammocks, murmured at this unseasonable summons, and called to know how it looked upon deck. To which Tom Willis replied, 'Come up and see. What we are minding is not on deck, but ahead.' On hearing this, they ran up without putting on their jackets, and when they came to the bows there was a whispering. One of them asked, 'Where is she? I do not see her.' To which another replied, 'The last flash of lightning showed there was not a reef in one of her sails; but we, who know her history, know that all her canvass will never carry her into port.' By this time, the talking of the seamen had brought some of the passengers on deck. They could see nothing, however, for the ship was surrounded by thick darkness, and by the noise of the dashing waters, and the seamen evaded the questions that were put to them. At this juncture the chaplain came on deck. He was a man of grave and modest demeanor, and was much liked among the seamen, who called him Gentle George. He overheard one of the men asking another, if he had ever seen the Flying Dutchman before, and if he knew the story about her. To which the other replied, 'I have heard of her beating about in these seas. What is the reason she never reaches port?' The first speaker replied, 'They give different reasons for it, but my story is this: She was an Amsterdam vessel, and sailed from that port seventy years ago. Her master's name was Vanderdecken. He was a staunch seaman, and would have his own way, in spite of the devil. For all that, never a sailor under him had reason to complain; though how it is on board with them now, nobody knows. The story is this, that in doubling the Cape, they were a long day trying to weather the Table Bay, which we saw this morning. However, the wind headed them, and went against them more and more, and Vanderdecken walked the deck, swearing at the wind. Just after sunset, a vessel spoke him, asking if he did not mean to go into the Bay that night. Vanderdecken replied, 'May I be eternally d__d if I do, though I should beat about here till the day of judgment!' And to be sure, Vanderdecken never did go into that bay; for it is believed that he continues to beat about in these seas still, and will do so long enough. This vessel is never seen but with foul weather along with her.' To which another replied, 'We must keep clear of her. They say that her captain mans his jolly boat, when a vessel comes in sight, and tries hard to get alongside, to put letters on board, but no good comes to them who have communication with him.' Tom Willis said, 'There is such a sea between us at present, as should keep us safe from such visits.' To which the other answered, 'We cannot trust to that, if Vanderdeckcn sends out his men.' Some of this conversation having been overheard by the passengers, there was a commotion among them. In the meantime, the noise of the waves against the vessel, could scarcely be distinguished from the sounds of the distant thunder. The wind had extinguished the light in the binnacle, where the compass was, and no one could tell which way the ship's head lay. The passengers were afraid to ask questions, lest they should augment the secret sensation of fear which chilled every heart, or learn any more than they already knew. For while they attributed their agitation of mind to the state of the weather, it was sufficiently perceptible that their alarms also arose from a cause which they did not acknowledge. The lamp at the binnacle being re-lighted, they perceived that the ship lay closer to the wind than she had hitherto done, and the spirits of the passengers were somewhat revived. Nevertheless, neither the tempestuous state of the atmosphere, nor the thunder had ceased; and soon a vivid flash of lightning showed the waves tumbling around us, and, in the distance, the Flying Dutchman scudding furiously before the wind, under a press of canvass. The sight was but momentary , but it was sufficient to remove doubt from the minds of the passengers. One of the men cried aloud, 'There she goes, top-gallants and all.' The chaplain had brought up his prayer book, in order that he might draw from thence something to fortify and tranquillize the minds of the rest. Therefore, taking his seat near the binnacle, so that the light shone upon the white leaves of the book, he, in a solemn tone, read out the service for those distressed at sea. The sailors stood round with folded arms, and looked as if they thought it would be of little use. But this served to occupy the attention of those on deck for a while. In the meantime, the flashes of lightning becoming less vivid, showed nothing else, far or near, but the billows weltering round the vessel. The sailors seemed to think that they had not yet seen the worst, but confined their remarks and prognostications to their own circle. At this time, the captain, who had hitherto remained in his birth, came on deck, and, with a gay and unconcerned air, inquired what was the cause of the general dread. He said he thought they had already seen the worst of the weather, and wondered that his men had raised such a hubbub about a capful of wind. Mention being made of the Flying Dutchman, the captain laughed. He said he would like very much to see any vessel carrying top-gallant-sails in such a night, for it would be a sight worth looking at. The chaplain, taking him by one of the buttons of his coat, drew him aside, and appeared to enter into serious conversation with him. While they were talking together the captain was heard to say, 'Let us look to our own ship, and not mind such things,' and accordingly, he sent a man aloft, to see if all was right about the foretop-sail yard, which was chafing the mast wit a loud noise. It was Tom Willis who went up; and when he came down, he said that all was tight, and that he hoped it would soon get clearer; and that they would see no more of what they were most afraid of. The captain and first mate were heard laughing loudly together, while the chaplain observed, that it would be better to repress such unseasonable gaiety. The second mate, a native of Scotland, whose name was Duncan Saunderson, having attended one of the university classes at Aberdeen, thought himself too wise to believe all that the sailors said, and took part with the captain. He jestingly told Tom Willis, to borrow his grandam's spectacles the next time he was sent to keep a lookout ahead. Tom walked sulkily away, muttering, that he would nevertheless trust to his own eyes till morning, and accordingly took his station at the bow, and appeared to watch as attentively as before. The sound of talking soon ceased, for many returned to their births, and we heard nothing but the clanking of the ropes upon the masts, and the bursting of the billows ahead, as the vessel successively took the seas. But after a considerable interval of darkness, gleams of lightning began to reappear. Tom Willis suddenly called out, 'Vanderdecken, again! Vanderdecken, again! I see, them letting down a boat.' All who were on deck ran to the bows. The next flash of lightning shone far and wide over the raging sea, and showed us not only the Flying Dutchman at a distance, but also a boat coming from her with four men. The boat was within two cables' length of our ship's side. The man who first saw her, ran to the captain, and asked whether they should hail her or not. The captain, walking about in great agitation, made no reply. The first mate cried, 'Who's going to heave a rope to that boat?' The men looked at each other without offering to do anything. The boat had come very near the chains, when Tom Willis called out, 'What do you want, or what devil has blown you here in such weather?' A piercing voice from the boat replied in English, 'We want to speak with your captain.' The captain took no notice of this, and Vanderdecken's boot having come close alongside, one of the men came upon deck, and appeared like a fatigued and weather-beaten seaman, holding some letters in his hand. Our sailors all drew back. The chaplain, however, looking steadfastly upon him, went forward a few steps, and asked, 'What is the purpose of this visit?' The stranger replied, 'We have long been kept here by foul weather, and Vanderdecken wishes to send these letters to his friends in Europe.' Our captain now came forward, and said as firmly as he could, 'I wish Vanderdecken would put his letters on board of any other vessel rather than mine.' The stranger replied, 'We have tried many a ship, but most of them refuse our letters.' Upon which, Tom Willis muttered, 'It will be best for us if we do the same, for they say, there is sometimes a sinking weight in your paper.' The stranger took no notice of this, but asked where we were from. On being told that we were from Portsmouth, he said, as if with strong feeling, 'Would that you had rather been from Amsterdam. Oh that we saw it again! -- We must see our friends again.' When he uttered these words, the men who were in the boat below, wrung their hands, and cried in a piercing tone, in Dutch, 'Oh that we saw it again! We have been long here beating about; but we must see our friends again.' The chaplain asked the stranger, 'How long have you been at sea?' He replied, 'We have lost our count; for our almanac was blown overboard. Our ship, you see, is there still; so why should you ask how long we have been at sea? for Vanderdecken only wishes to write home and comfort his friends.' To which the chaplain replied, 'Your letters, I fear, would be of no use in Amsterdam, even if they were delivered, for the persons to whom they are addressed are probably no longer to be found there, except under very ancient green turf in the churchyard.' The unwelcome stranger then wrung his hands, and appeared to weep; and replied, 'It is impossible. We cannot believe you. We have been long driving about here, but country nor relations cannot be so easily forgotten. There is not a raindrop in the air but feels itself kindred to all the rest, and they fall back into the sea to meet with each other again. How then, can kindred blood be made to forget where it came from? Even our bodies are part of the ground of Holland; and Vanderdecken says, if he once were come to Amsterdam, he would rather be changed into a stone post, well fixed into the ground, than leave it again; if that were to die elsewhere. But in the meantime, we only ask you to take these letters.' The chaplain, looking at him with astonishment, said, 'This is the insanity of natural affection, which rebels against all measures of time and distance.' The stranger continued, 'Here is a letter from our second mate, to his dear and only remaining friend, his uncle, the merchant who lives in the second house on Stuncken Yacht Quay.' He held forth the letter, but no one would approach to take it. Tom Willis raised his voice, and said, 'One of our men here says that he was in Amsterdam last summer, and he knows for certain, that the street called Stuncken Yacht Quay, was pulled down sixty years ago, and now there is only a large church at that place.' The man from the Flying Dutchman, said, 'It is impossible; we cannot believe you. Here is another letter from myself, in which I have sent a banknote to my dear sister, to buy some gallant lace, to make her a high headdress.' Tom Willis hearing this, said, 'It is most likely that her head now lies under a tombstone, which will outlast all the changes of the fashion. But on what house is your banknote?' The stranger replied, 'On the house of Vanderbrucker and Company.' The man, of whom Tom Willis had spoken, said, 'I guess there will now be some discount upon it, for that banking house was gone to destruction forty years ago; and Vanderbrucker was afterwards a-missing. -- But to remember these things is like raking up the bottom of an old canal.' The stranger called out passionately, 'It is impossible. We cannot believe it! It is cruel to say such things to people in our condition. There is a letter from our captain himself, to his much-beloved and faithful wife, whom he left at a pleasant summer dwelling, on the border of the Haarlemer Mer. She promised to have the house beautifully painted and gilded before he came back, and to get a new set of looking-glasses for the principal chamber, that she might see as many images of Vanderdecken, as if she had six husbands at once.' The man replied, 'There has been time enough for her to have had six husbands since then; but were she alive still, there is no fear that Vanderdecken would ever get home to disturb her.' On hearing this the stranger again shed tears, and said, if they would not take the letters, he would leave them; and looking around he offered the parcel to the captain, chaplain, and to the rest of the crew successively, but each drew back as it was offered, and put his hands behind his back. He then laid the letters upon the deck, and placed upon them a piece of iron, which was lying near, to prevent them from being blown away. Having done this, he swung himself over the gangway, and went into the boat. We heard the others speak to him, but the rise of a sudden squall prevented us from distinguishing his reply. The boat was seen to quit the ship's side, and, in a few moments, there were no more traces of her than if she had never been there. The sailors rubbed their eyes, as if doubting what they had witnessed, but the parcel still lay upon deck, and proved the reality of all that had passed. Duncan Saunderson, the Scotch mate, asked the captain if he should take them up, and put them in the letter bag. Receiving no reply, he would have lifted them if it had not been for Tom Willis, who pulled him back, saying that nobody should touch them. In the meantime the captain went down to the cabin, and the chaplain having followed him, found him at his bottle-case, pouring out a large dram of brandy. The captain, although somewhat disconcerted, immediately offered the glass to him, saying, 'Here, Charters, is what is good in a cold night.' The chaplain declined drinking anything, and the captain having swallowed the bumper, they both returned to the deck, where they found the seamen giving their opinions concerning what should be done with the letters. Tom Willis proposed to pick them up on a harpoon and throw it overboard. Another speaker said, 'I have always heard it asserted that it is neither safe to accept them voluntarily, nor when they are left to throw them out of the ship.' 'Let no one touch them,' said the carpenter. 'The way to do with the letters from the Flying Dutchman is to case them upon deck, by nailing boards over them, so that if he sends back for them, they are still there to give him.' The carpenter went to fetch his tools. During his absence, the ship gave so violent a pitch, that the piece of iron slid off the letters, and they were whirled overboard by the wind, like birds of evil omen whirring through the air. There was a cry of joy among the sailors, and they ascribed the favorable change which soon took place in the weather, to our having got quit of Vanderdecken. We soon got underway again. The night watch being set, the rest of the crew retired to their births.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,We Meet the Flying Dutchman,"The Cruise of Her Majesty's Ship ""Bacchante,"" 1881",NA,"The Cruise of Her Majesty's Ship 'Bacchante' 1879-1882. Compiled from the private journals, letters, and note-books of Prince Albert Victor and Prince George of Wales, with additions by John N. Dalton, vol. 1 (London: Macmillan and Company, 1886.), p. 551.","July 11th, [1881] -- At 4:00 a.m. the Flying Dutchman crossed our bows. A strange red light as of a phantom ship all aglow, in the midst of which light the masts, spars, and sails of a brig 200 yards distant stood out in strong relief as she came up on the port bow. The lookout man on the forecastle reported her as close on the port bow, where also the officer of the watch from the bridge clearly saw her, as did also the quarterdeck midshipman, who was sent forward at once to the forecastle; but on arriving there no vestige nor any sign whatever of any material ship was to be seen either near or right away to the horizon, the night being clear and the sea calm. Thirteen persons altogether saw her, but whether it was Van Diemen or the Flying Dutchman or who else must remain unknown. The Tourmaline and Cleopatra, who were sailing on our starboard bow, flashed to ask whether we had seen the strange red light. At 6:15 a.m. observed land (Mount Diana) to the northeast. At 10:45 a.m. the ordinary seaman who had this morning reported the Flying Dutchman fell from the foretopmast crosstrees on to the topgallant forecastle and was smashed to atoms. At 4:15 p.m. after quarters we hove to with the head-yards aback, and he was buried in the sea. He was a smart royal yardman, and one of the most promising young hands in the ship, and every one feels quite sad at his loss. (At the next port we came to the Admiral also was smitten down).",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
777,Written on Passing Dead-Man's Island*,"Thomas Moore, 1804",NA,"Source (books.google.com): Thomas Moore, The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore (Edinburgh and London: Gall and Inglis, 1870), p. 279. Source (Internet Archive): Thomas Moore, The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore (Edinburgh and London: Gall and Inglis, 1870), p. 279.","In the Gulf of St Lawrence, Late in the Evening, Sept. 1804. See you, beneath yon cloud so dark, Fast gliding along, a gloomy bark? Her sails are full, though the wind is still, And there blows not a breath her sails to fill! Oh! what doth that vessel of darkness bear? The silent calm of the grave is there, Save now and again a death-knell rung, And the flap of the sails, with night-fog hung! There lieth a wreck on the dismal shore Of cold and pitiless Labrador; Where, under the moon, upon mounts of frost, Full many a mariner's bones are tost! Yon shadowy bark hath been to that wreck, And the dim blue fire, that lights her deck, Doth play on as pale and livid a crew, As ever yet drank the church-yard dew! To Dead-Man's Isle, in the eye of the blast, To Dead-Man's Isle, she speeds her fast; By skeleton shapes her sails are furl'd, And the hand that steers is not of this world! Oh! hurry thee on -- oh! hurry thee on, Thou terrible bark! ere the night be gone, Nor let morning look on so foul a sight As would blanch for ever her rosy light! *This is one of the Magdalen Islands, and, singularly enough, is the property of Sir Isaac Coffin. The above lines were suggested by a superstition very common among sailors, who call this ghost ship, I think, 'The Flying Dutchman.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,Buying a Pumpkin Instead of a Mule,Algeria,NA,"Source (books.google.com): William Alexander Clouston, The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (London: Elliot Stock, 1888), p. 37. Source (Internet Archive): William Alexander Clouston, The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons; or, Fools and Their Follies (London: Elliot Stock, 1888), p. 37.","The mother ot a youth of the Beni-Jennad clan gave him a hundred reals to buy a mule; so he went to market, and on his way met a man carrying a watermelon for sale. 'How much for the melon?' he asks. 'What will you give?' says the man. 'I have only got a hundred reals,' answered the booby; 'had I more, you should have it' 'Well,' rejoined the man, 'I'll take them.' Then the youth took the melon and handed over the money. 'But tell me,' says he, 'will its young one be as green as it is?' 'Doubtless,' answered the man,' it will be green.' As the booby was going home, he allowed the melon to roll down a slope before him. It burst on its way, when up started a frightened hare. 'Go to my house, young one,' he shouted. 'Surely a green animal has come out of it.' And when he got home, he inquired of his mother if the young one had arrived.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,Donkey Seed,Italy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Christian Schneller, Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol: Ein Beitrag zur deutschen Sagenkunde (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), pp. 171-72. Source (Internet Archive): Christian Schneller, Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol: Ein Beitrag zur deutschen Sagenkunde (Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner'schen Universitäts-Buchhandlung, 1867), pp. 171-72.","In a small mountain village all the horses and donkeys died. Because the mules were immediately needed, the people got together and chose two men to go to Trento and ask the bishop for some donkey seed. This was done. The bishop politely listened to them, then said, 'Come back this afternoon to get what you have requested.' When they returned that afternoon he gave them a large pumpkin filled with seeds. They put it on a donkey, thanked the bishop, and made their way homewards. High on the mountainside the donkey shied. The pumpkin fell to the ground and rolled down the mountain. It fell into a hare's nest, and the hares ran away. The two men shouted, 'The donkeys are running away! They are running away!' They rushed to tell the others, and all together they ran off in search of the donkeys, but to this day they have not found them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,Kleinenberg Horse Eggs,Germany,Kleinenberg is a city in the German state of Lower Saxony (Niedersachsen).,"Source (books.google.com): Adalbert Kuhn, 'Kleinenberger Pferdeeier,' Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), no. 258, pp. 226-27. Source (Internet Archive): Adalbert Kuhn, 'Kleinenberger Pferdeeier,' Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1859), no. 258, pp. 226-27.","Once a man drove through Kleinenberg with a load of cannonballs. He was asked what they were, and he answered that they were horse eggs. The people of Kleinenberg were curious when they heard that, and asked if he would sell one to them. He said that he would be glad to do so, and then sold one to them for a large sum of money. He also told them how to hatch it: They would have to sit on it without interruption. They did just that, faithfully taking turns. But no foal appeared. Finally one of the sitters became impatient, stood up angrily, kicked against the egg with his foot, and cried out, 'You cursed egg, won't you give it up?' Now they had been sitting on the crest of a hill, and when he kicked agains the egg it rolled down into a bush where a hare was seated. The frighted hare ran off, and the Kleinenberger thought that it was his foal. 'Come back, Horsey!' he shouted. But Horsey the Hare could not be stopped, and he did not come back.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,Nasreddin Hodja and the Mule's Egg,Turkey,"Link to additional tales about Nasreddin Hodja, the Turkish Trickster.","Source (books.google.com): Albert Wesselski, Der Hodscha Nasreddin: Türkische, arabische berberische, maltesische, sizliianische, kalabrische, kroatische, serbische und griechische Märlein und Schwänke, vol. 1 (Weimar: Alexander duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 163, p. 86. Source (Internet Archive): Albert Wesselski, Der Hodscha Nasreddin: Türkische, arabische berberische, maltesische, sizliianische, kalabrische, kroatische, serbische und griechische Märlein und Schwänke, vol. 1 (Weimar: Alexander duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 163, p. 86.","One day the Hodja went into the mountains to cut wood, and he took a melon with him. As he was walking along the melon fell from his arms and rolled down into the valley. A hare was sleeping there. The melon frightend him, and he ran away. Seeing the hare, the Hodja said: 'I have done something stupid. The melon must have been pregnant, and that was a mule.' With that he turned to his wood-cutting. When he returned home he told his wife about his adventure. She cried out: 'Oh dear, husband, you should have caught it and brought it home! We could have ridden him to the garden!' The Hodja picked up a stick and said: 'Get off him! He is still too young! You'll break his ribs!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,Racehorse Eggs,USA (Idaho),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Vardis Fisher, Idaho Lore, prepared by the Federal Writers' Project of the Work Projects Administration (Caldwell, Idaho: The Caxton Printers, 1939), p. 131.","Because of its fertility, many Easterners were attracted in former times to Paradise Valley in northern Idaho. An old-timer liked to show to visitors the enormous pumpkins which were grown there; and when asked what they were, he answered 'Why, them's hoss eggs. Never seen any afore?' A little later he would stagger around with an un usually huge pumpkin and pretend to stumble and drop it; whereupon it would roll down a hill and start up a rabbit from a colony at the foot of the hill; for the pumpkin would hit a stone and explode with an awful bang. One Easterner, seeing a rabbit bounding off at full speed, cried excitedly: 'Well, by gum, that egg would certainly have made some racehorse!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The Irishman and the Mare's Egg,Canada,NA,"Source (books.google.com): F. W. Waugh, 'Canadian Folk-Lore from Ontario,' The Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 31 (1918), p. 78.","An Irishman had not been long in this country when he was sold a pumpkin by a country fellow, who told him that it was a 'mare's egg.' The Irishman continued his journey, carrying the pumpkin; but he soon got tired, and sat down to rest on the crest of a hill. The pumpkin rolled down the slope and was smashed to pieces. As it hit a brush-heap at the bottom, a rabbit ran away; and the Irishman jumped up, shouting, 'Catch him, catch him! He is a race-horse.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The Irishman and the Pumpkin,USA (Virginia),NA,"Source (books.google.com): The Southern Workman and Hampton School Record, vol. 18, no. 5 (Hampton, Virginia: May 1899), pp. 192-93.","Once there was a man driving along the road with a pair of mules and a load of pumpkins, when an Irishman stopped him and wanted to know what those things were that he had in his cart. The man replied they were mule's eggs, and told the Irishman that if he would put one on the south side of a hill and sit on it, it would hatch out a mule. So the Irishman bought one and carried it up on the south side of a hill and sat down on it and soon went to sleep. Of course he fell off, and the pumpkin went rolling over and over down the hill and into the brush; out jumped a rabbit and went running off. 'Koop, colie! Koop colie! Here's you mammy,' called the Irishman, but the rabbit wouldn't stop. So the Irishman went back to the other man and said he wanted another mule's egg; the first one hatched into a mighty fine colt, but it ran so fast he couldn't catch it, and he would like to buy another.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The McAndrew Family,Ireland,"Jacobs' source: 'Supplied by Mrs. Gale, now in the United States, from the recitation of her mother, who left Ireland over fifty years ago. (Notes and References, p. 228. Typical of tales about fools, this story includes a number of episodes, only one of which is given here.","Source (books.google.com): Joseph Jacobs, More Celtic Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 97-102. Source (Internet Archive): Joseph Jacobs, More Celtic Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 97-102.","A long time ago, in the County Mayo, there lived a rich man of the name of McAndrew. He owned cows and horses without number, not to mention ducks and geese and pigs; and his land extended as far as the eye could reach on the four sides of you. McAndrew was a lucky man, the neighbours all said; but as for himself, when he looked on his seven big sons growing up like weeds and with scarcely any more sense, he felt sore enough, for of all the stupid omadhauns, the seven McAndrew brothers were the stupidest. . . . The seven young McAndrews were as happy as could be until the fine old father fell sick and died. The eldest son came in for all the father had, so he felt like a lord. To see him strut and swagger was a sight to make a grum growdy laugh. One day, to show how fine he could be, he dressed in his best, and with a purse filled with gold pieces started off for the market town. When he got there, in he walked to a public-house, and called for the best of everything, and to make a fine fellow of himself he tripled the price of everything to the landlord. As soon as he got through his eye suddenly caught sight of a little keg, all gilded over to look like gold, that hung outside the door for a sign. Con had never heeded it before, and he asked the landlord what it was. Now the landlord, like many another, had it in mind that he might as well get all he could out of a McAndrew, and he answered quickly: 'You stupid omadhaun, don't you know what that is? It's a mare's egg.' 'And will a foal come out of it?' 'Of course; what a question to ask a dacent man!' 'I niver saw one before,' said the amazed McAndrew. 'Well, ye see one now, Con, and take a good look at it.' 'Will ye sell it?' 'Och, Con McAndrew, do ye think I want to sell that fine egg afther kaping it so long hung up there before the sun when it is ready to hatch out a foal that will be worth twenty good guineas to me?' 'I'll give ye twenty guineas for it,' answered Con. 'Thin it's a bargain,' said the landlord; and he took down the keg and handed it to Con, who handed out the twenty guineas, all the money he had. 'Be careful of it, and carry it as aisy as ye can, and when ye get home hang it up in the sun.' Con promised, and set off home with his prize. Near the rise of a hill he met his brothers. 'What have ye, Con?' 'The most wonderful thing in the world -- a mare's egg.' 'Faith, what is it like?' asked Pat, taking it from Con. 'Go aisy, can't ye? It's very careful ye have to be.' But the brothers took no heed to Con, and before one could say, 'whist,' away rolled the keg down the hill, while all seven ran after it; but before any one could catch it, it rolled into a clump of bushes, and in an instant out hopped a hare. 'Bedad, there's a foal,' cried Con, and all seven gave chase; but there was no use trying to catch a hare. 'That's the foinest foal that ever was, if he was five year old the devil himself could not catch him,' Con said; and with that the seven omadhauns gave up the chase and went quietly home.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The Men from Ried Hatch a Donkey,Switzerland,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Johannes Jegerlehner, Am Herdfeuer der Sennen: Neue Märchen und Sagen aus dem Wallis (Bern: Verlag von A. Francke, 1908), pp. 190-92. Source (Internet Archive): Johannes Jegerlehner, Am Herdfeuer der Sennen: Neue Märchen und Sagen aus dem Wallis (Bern: Verlag von A. Francke, 1908), pp. 190-92.","After the Lord God had created the world he wandered up and down the Wisper Valley and noticed that he had forgotten one spot. So he threw a handful of earth and stones onto a bare slope, and that was founding of the village of Ried. Now the people of Ried were a simple and backward folk. One day the mayor of Ried was in a village further down in the valley and, for the first time in his life, he saw a donkey. He liked the looks of this beast, and he asked the people how to grow such an animal, for he himself would like to have one. They said, 'We plant them on a manure pile as little pumpkins. With sunshine and rain they grow bigger and bigger, and in the summer when the sun is right hot young donkeys hatch out of them, just like little chicks come from eggs. But if you want it to happen more quickly, you have to hatch them yourself.' With that the mayor purchased a round green pumpkin and carried it back up to his village. He set it in the middle of the village square and he plus two other men sat on it day and night. After two days others came to relieve them, but while they were changing places the pumpkin rolled away. It crashed into some brush, frightening a hare, which leapt madly away. The mayor ran after it, waving his arms and shouting, 'Stop! Stop, little donkey, I'm your father!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The People of Sainte-Dode,France,NA,"Source (books.google.com): E. K. Blümml, 'Die Einwohner von Sainte-Dode,' Schnurren und Schwänke des französischen Bauernvolkes (Leipzig: Deutsche Verlagsactiengesellschaft, 1906), no. 28, pp. 71-72. Source (Internet Archive): E. K. Blümml, 'Die Einwohner von Sainte-Dode,' Schnurren und Schwänke des französischen Bauernvolkes (Leipzig: Deutsche Verlagsactiengesellschaft, 1906), no. 28, pp. 71-72.","The people of Sainte-Dode always have been considered to be simpletons, and they have often been taken advantage of. One day it occurred to the people of Sainte-Dode that they were earning too little with their farming, their wine-growing, and their horse breeding. The people -- men, women, and children -- assembled in front of the church to discuss the matter. 'People of Sainte-Dode,' called out the cleverest of them, 'do you want to increase your fortune and at the same time work only half as much?' 'Yes! Yes!' they all shouted. 'Listen to what we must do. I have been told there is a merchant who lives near the the Daurade Church in Toulouse. He has horse seed for sale, but it is very expensive. We will have to buy some. Let us send four capable men to Toulouse to get some for us.' 'He is right! We want some of that horse seed!' The four men were soon selected, and they set off at once for Toulouse where they found the merchant's business near the Daurade Church. 'Good day.' 'Good day, gentlemen.' 'We have been told that you have horse seed for sale here.' 'Gentlemen, that is true, but each seed costs one hundred gold pistoles. 'We'll take one. Here is the money.' From the back room the merchant fetched a pumpkin as large as a barrel. 'Here, my friends, is my best horse seed. But listen to what I have to say. Shake it as little as possible while carrying it home. Be careful not to break it, otherwise the little foal that is inside will run away, and you will have spent your hundred gold pistoles for nothing. 'Many thanks for the warning.' The four men made their way toward Saint-Dode, and were ever so careful not to break it. They took turns carrying it on their heads. Everything went well as far as Aubiet, where they stopped to rest on a steep ledge. While they were catching their breath and taking a drink from their cantines the horse seed rolled over the ledge and broke into pieces against a stone. A hare that was sleeping a few steps away jumped up in fright and ran away. 'Oh, what misfortune! Our horse seed has been botched. Just see how our little foal is running away!' Beside themselves with grief they arrived in Saint-Dode, where they were greeted with sticks and stones.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The Pumpkin,Serbia,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Friedrich S. Krauss, 'Der Flaschenkürbis,' Sagen und Märchen der Südslaven, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich), no. 114, pp. 258-59. Source (Internet Archive): Friedrich S. Krauss, 'Der Flaschenkürbis,' Sagen und Märchen der Südslaven, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Friedrich), no. 114, pp. 258-59.","Ages ago when pumpkins were unkown here in this country, one day a peasant found a pumpkin on a hill not far from his village. He had no idea what he had found. Deeply concerned he asked the village judge what sort of thing it was, but the judge could not help him. He then approached the village elders hoping that one of them would be able to identify the mysterious object. They all stood there baffled, until finally one of them stepped forward and said, 'It can only be a horse's egg, because you found it where the horses like to graze.' The peasants all agreed with this explanation, but now there was a new difficulty: No one knew how to get a horse to sit on the egg to hatch it. Finally they decided that each house would assign a man to take turns hatching the egg. Because the pumpkin was already turning yellow they said, 'The foal is almost ready to come out.' The hatching turn came to an awkward fellow, and he turned this way and that way on the pumpkin causing it to lose its balance and roll into a gully where a hare was sleeping in the brush. The frightened hare ran away. The peasants pursued him, shouting, 'Listen to us! Listen to us!' But the hare did not listen to them, but instead raced frantically into the woods. The peasants went back to the pumpkin to see how the hare had come out of it. They found a mass of pumpkin seeds. Now, first one and then another of them realized that was not an egg after all, but rather something entirely different. The judge distributed the seeds to the houses in the village with the instructions to plant them. The next summer they learned more about the mysterious thing, and since then they have planted pumpkins every year. The seed from which the first pumpkin grew must have been brought to our country by a bird from a foreign land, and thus the pumpkin grew on that hill not far from the village.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The Purchase of the Horse's Egg,India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Constantino Giuseppe Beschi, The Adventures of the Gooroo Paramartan, translated by Benjamin Babington (London: J. M. Richardson, 1822), pp. 60-70. Source (Internet Archive): Constantino Giuseppe Beschi, The Adventures of the Gooroo Paramartan, translated by Benjamin Babington (London: J. M. Richardson, 1822), pp. 60-70.","The Gooroo Noodle and His Five Disciples Decide to Purchase a Horse The Gooroo demanded how much the price of a horse would amount to. As they heard upon enquiry that it could not cost less than from fifty to a hundred pagodas, the Gooroo determined that he had not ability to pay so much. The matter thus remained a good while under consideration, when one day they perceived that their milch cow which had been turned out to feed, did not return home at the close of the evening; they sought her all over the village, but as, notwithstanding their search, she was not to be found, Blockhead on the following day went to seek her in the surrounding villages. On his return to the Mattam the third day, unable to discover her anywhere, he exclaimed with delight, 'The cow, Sir, I cannot find: 'tis no matter, however, for I have met with a horse for us at a very low price.'' 'How is that?' demanded the Gooroo with eagerness. To which Blockhead replied, 'When I was on my return, after I had been searching from village to village, from common to common, from enclosure to enclosure, in order to find the milch cow, I perceived four or five mares grazing and reposing on the bank of a large lake. As I went on farther I found, in a place which was near, a number of horses' eggs hanging down in every direction, which could not be encompassed by one's two arms. Upon enquiry of one who came up, he informed me that they were in truth horses' eggs, and that the price of each of them was only four or five pagodas. Here is a fine opportunity, Sir. We can thus, at an easy rate, obtain a high bred horse, and as for its docility, this will depend upon the manner in which we rear it and break it in.' They all consented to this proposition, and having united Idiot with him, delivered into their hands five pagodas, and despatched them forthwith on their journey. After Blockhead and Idiot had set out, in the manner just mentioned, to purchase the horse's egg, Fool thus threw out a doubt. 'Grant that the egg of a high bred courser be obtained, still when obtained, it is only after having been sat upon that it will be hatched; but who in the world is to hatch it I am sure I do not know. He says that it is not to be encompassed by one's two arms: though then we were to keep ten hens together upon it, they could not even stand upon it, much less cover it. Tell us then how we arc to manage in this business.' On hearing what he said, they all stared at each other with astonishment, and without opening their mouths, remained speechless. After a considerable pause, the Gooroo addressed himself separately to each of the three who were present, saying, 'I see no other way but that one of us should sit on it.' Upon this each made his excuses. 'It is my business,' says one, 'to go daily to the river and fetch all the water that is wanted, as also to go to the jungle and procure canes for firewood, how therefore can I possibly hatch it?' Says another, 'After remaining night and day without intermission in the kitchen, dressing rice, cooking all kinds of curries, making fancy cakes and boiling water, for everybody, thus killing myself at the stoves, how can the hatching be performed by me?' Says another, 'Before daybreak I go to the river, and after having cleansed my teeth, rinsed my mouth, washed my face, purified my hands and feet, and completed all my ceremonies according to the rules, I have to go round the flower gardens, cull the new buds, bring them hither with due respect, tie long garlands, strew flowers over different idols, at the same time worshipping them, and daily assist at the Poojei of the deity. Such is my business; is it not? With all this, how can I hatch it?' To this the Gooroo replied, ''This is all quite true; neither can it be accomplished by the other two who are gone away; for one of them has more business than he can finish, in making enquiries respecting those who come and go, in giving answers to the questions which they propose, and in hearing and settling the disputes which are brought before him. Finally, Blockhead, on all occasions when we wish to transact any business, is he not the person who goes to the shops, to the fairs and to the villages? It is very true, therefore, that you must follow those occupations which constantly require your attention. For my part, am I not here doing nothing? I will place the egg in my lap, embrace it with my arms, cover it with the skirt of my cloth, hug it in my bosom, guard it with tenderness, and thus hatch it. It is enough if we do but produce the horse, we will not regard the trouble which is to be endured.' Whilst all this deliberation was taking place in the Mattam, Blockhead and Idiot, who had set out in the third watch with the rising moon, after a journey of more than two kadams and a half, bent their course towards the mark which they had before seen and noticed, and arrived at the borders of the lake where there was an abundance of pumpkins in fruit. On perceiving this, being greatly delighted, they went to the countryman who was attending there and entreated him, saying, 'Master, we earnestly conjure you to give us one of these eggs.' He, in his turn, seeing their idiotism, said, 'Hey-day! do you suppose yourselves fit to buy such high bred horses' eggs as these? They are very costly indeed.' To this they replied, 'Go to Master, do we not know that five pagodas is the price of them? Look ye, friend, take your five pagodas and give us a good egg.' To this he answered, ''You are, to be sure, fine honest fellows. In consideration of your good qualities, I consent to give them to you at this price; select therefore an egg to your liking, and go your ways, but do not publish it abroad that you have obtained it at this easy rate.' They both of them selected and took away a fruit which was larger than all the rest, and rising early the next morning, they set out on their journey just as the day was breaking. Blockhead having carefully taken the egg and lifted it on his head, the other went before shewing the way, and while they were thus going along, Blockhead began to say, 'Ay, ay, our forefathers have said, They who perform penance, are forwarding their own affairs. We have now seen the proof of this with our own eyes. This in truth is the profit which has accrued by the penance continually performed by our Gooroo. A high bred horse, which is worth a hundred or a hundred and fifty pagodas, we purchase and take to him for five.' To which Idiot replied, 'Needs this any reflection? Hast thou not heard the saying -- From pious actions alone proceeds delight; all else is irrelevant and unworthy of praise. From virtue, not only profit, but pleasure proceeds; except there be virtue, all else will be misery and disgrace. Did not my father for a long time practise many virtues; and he found his profit and delight in the end, in having me born to him.' To which the other replied, 'Can this be doubted? If you sow a castor oil tree, will an ebony tree he produced? From good actions, good will proceed, from evil actions, evil.' Thus conversing, after they had walked along for a considerable distance, the pumpkin, from striking against the bough of a tree which was bent and hanging down, was dashed out of his hands, and suddenly tumbling upon some shrubs which were spreading in bushes below, cracked and fell to pieces. Upon this, a hare which was sitting in the bushes started up and ran away. Taking the alarm, they cried out, ''Behold! The horse's foal which was in the shell has run away;' and followed after to catch and seize it. Running, regardless of hills or dales, or woods or commons, the clothes which they had on became entangled in the thorny bushes, and were partly torn and partly detained. They continued the pursuit, with their flesh lacerated by the stumps which they trod on, their blood flowing in consequence of the thorns which stuck into them, their bodies all streaming with perspiration, their hearts beating, their two ears closed, puffing and blowing with fatigue, and their bowels jolting; notwithstanding which, the hare was not caught, and they both fell down, wearied out and harassed with fatigue. In the meantime the hare went on, and becoming concealed, so as no longer to be kept in sight, it ran away to a great distance. They too, regardless of their weariness, rose up, and with legs limping and wounded by thorns, stones and stumps, searched in every direction. Journeying in this afflicted condition, they suffered hunger and fasting all that day, and after sunset arrived at the Mattam. When they entered in at the gate, they smote their mouths, crying, 'Alas! Alas!' and beating themselves, fell down. 'What is it? What is it? What harm has come to you?' demanded the rest; who came, and, taking them by the hand, raised them up. After the two had related in detail all the circumstances that had happened. Blockhead spoke as follows: 'O Sir, since the day that I was born, I never beheld so swift a horse as this: of an ash colour, mixed with black; in form and size like a hare, and a cubit in length. Although a foal still in the nest, it pricked up its two ears, cocked its tail, which rose up the length of two fingers, extended and stretched forth its four legs, and with its heart close to the ground, ran with a swiftness and impetuosity which can neither be expressed nor conceived.' Upon this they were all bewailing, when the Gooroo appeasing them, said, 'True indeed, the five pagodas are gone, but however, it is well that the horse's foal is gone also; if whilst a foal it runs in this manner, when hereafter it shall become full grown, who will be able to ride upon it? I truly am an old man: a horse of this description, my friends, although it were presented to me gratis, I would not accept.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The Two Cockneys and the Mare's Egg,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): John Coker Egerton, Sussex Folk and Sussex Ways: Stray Studies in the Wealden Formation of Human Nature (London: Trübner and Company, 1884), pp. 19-22.","A truly rural story, which indicated to me no small sense of that humour which I am claiming as a set-off against our country dulness, I had from a stranger, an elderly farmer, as I took him to be, a fellow passenger in a train from Salisbury to Grately. Should my unknown friend ever see my version of his tale, I hope that he will pardon me for spoiling it by my indifferent telling, and that he will accept my thanks for the enjoyment which it afforded me. It ran thus, as nearly as I remember: Two cockneys, who had come down to stay a few days in the country, near Grately, on the borders of Hampshire and Wiltshire, met in their walk one morning an old man, who, my informant said, was 'a droll old chap,' and who happened to have a large pumpkin under his arm. The Londoners noticed that the old man was carrying something, though they could not quite make out what it was, and confident in their power as town-dwellers, they thought they would have a little joke at the old countryman's expense. So they opened fire. 'Good morning, master.' 'Good marnin', zur.' 'What is that you are carrying under your arm, friend?' ''Tis a mare's egg, zur.' 'Dear me,' said the Londoners, not liking to own their ignorance, 'it's the finest we ever saw.' 'Ah, zur,' said the old man, there's lots of common 'uns about, but this is a thoroughbred 'un, zur; that's what makes 'un look so vine.' 'Will you sell it?' said the cockneys. 'Well,' said the old man, 'I doan't mind partin' wi' 'un, tho' I doan't s'pose you'll give the money I want for a thoroughbred mare's egg.' After some bargaining, the men put their hands into their pockets and paid what was asked. The old man then handed over the pumpkin, and as he did so, looked at them very seriously, and said, 'Now, mind, zur, and do 'ee take great care wi' 'un, for she'll hatch soon!' Away went the Londoners with their mare's egg, and as they were crossing a hill just by Grately station, which my informant pointed out, the one who was carrying the prize stumbled over one of the juniper bushes with which the hill is dotted about, and dropped the pumpkin, starting at the same time a hare out of the bush. In their excitement, and thinking, I suppose, that the fall had suddenly hastened the hatching, they shouted wildly to some men at work in a field at the bottom of the hill 'Hi! Stop our colt! Stop our colt!' The story, told as it was in the purest Wiltshire dialect, was truly amusing. It is, however, a curious illustration of the temptation to give an air of reality and a proportionately increased interest to an anecdote by assigning it to a particular person or locality. When I heard the story in the train, and saw my friend point out the very scene of it on the hill at Grately, I felt that I was receiving it fresh from the very fountain-head. To my surprise, however, I found only the other day that the narrative in almost identical words was a favourite one of the father of one of my own parishioners, a Kentish man born and bred, who had been a resident all his life in his own county. I have since also been assured by a friend in the next parish, that her late husband's father, a Scotchman, living twenty miles beyond the border, used to tell this very same story with the greatest satisfaction. Where, therefore, it took its rise, and how it became known in districts so wide apart as Wiltshire, Kent, and the Lowlands of Scotland, are questions which I, at any rate, am not able to answer.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1319,The Weaver and the Watermelon,India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), pp. 146-48. Source (Internet Archive): Charles Swynnerton, Indian Nights' Entertainment; or, Folk-Tales from the Upper Indus (London: Elliot Stock, 1892), pp. 146-48.","'Eggs of other birds there are,' he said, 'and I have seen them; but what bird's eggs are these eggs? These must be mare's eggs.' So he looked at the grain-seller, and said: 'Are these eggs mare's eggs?' The man instantly cocked his ears; and perceiving that he was a simpleton, answered: 'Yes, these eggs are mare's eggs.' 'What is the price?' inquired the countryman. 'One hundred rupees apiece,' said the grain-seller. The simple weaver took out his bag of money, and, counting out the price, bought one of the melons and carried it off. As he went along the road, he began to say to himself: 'When I get home I will put this egg in a warm corner of my house, and by-and-by a foal will be born, and when the foal is big enough, I shall mount it and ride to the house of my father-in-law. Won't he be astonished?' As the day, however, was unusually hot, he stopped at a pool of water to bathe. But first of all he deposited the melon most carefully in the middle of a low bush, and then he proceeded to undress himself. His garments were not half laid aside, when out from the bush sprang a hare, and the weaver, snatching up part of his clothing while the rest hung about his legs in disorder, made desperate efforts to chase and overtake the hare, crying out: 'Ah, there goes my foal! Wo, old boy -- wo, wo!' But he ran in vain, for the hare easily escaped, and was soon out of sight. The poor weaver reconciled himself to his loss as best he could. 'Kismet!' cried he; 'and as for the egg, it is of course of no use now, and not worth returning for, since the foal has left it.' So he made the best of his way home, and said to his wife: 'O wife, I have had a great loss this day. 'Why,' said she, 'what have you done?' 'I paid one hundred rupees for a mare's egg,' replied he; 'but while I stopped on the road to bathe, the foal jumped out and ran away.' 'Ah, what a pity!' cried the wife; 'if you had only brought the foal here, I would have got on his back, and ridden him to my father's house!' Hearing this, the weaver fell into a rage, and, pulling a stick out of his loom, began to belabour his wife, saying: 'What! you would break the back of a young foal? Ah! you monster, let me break yours.' After this he went out, and began to lament his loss to his friends and neighbours, warning them all: 'If any of you should see a stray foal, don't forget to let me know.' To the village herdsmen especially he related his wonderful story: how the foal came out of the egg, and ran away, and would perhaps be found grazing on the common-lands somewhere. One or two of the farmers, however, to whom the tale was repeated, said: 'What is this nonsense? Mares never have eggs. Where did you put this egg of yours?' 'I put my egg in a bush,' said the weaver, near the tank on the way to the town.' 'Come and show us!' cried the farmers. 'All right,' assented the weaver; 'come along.' When they arrived at the spot, the melon was found untouched in the middle of the bush. 'Here it is,' cried the weaver; 'here's my mare's egg. This is the thing out of which my foal jumped.' The farmers turned the melon over and over, and said: 'But what part of this egg did the foal jump out of?' So the weaver took the egg, and began to examine it. 'Out of this,' cried one of the farmers, snatching back the melon, 'no foal ever jumped. You are a simpleton, and you have been cheated! We'll show you what the foals are.' So he smashed the melon on a stone, and, giving the seeds to the weaver, said: 'Here are foals enough for you;' while the farmers themselves, amid much laughter, sat down and ate up the delicious fruit.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1676,The Blacksmith,Ireland,Lady Gregory (1852-1932) was an Irish dramatist and folklorist. She worked closely with William Butler Yeats (1865-1939).,"Source (books.google.com): Isabella Augusta, Lady Gregory, Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland, 2nd series (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1920), pp. 239-40. Source (Internet Archive): Isabella Augusta, Lady Gregory, Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland, 2nd series (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1920), pp. 239-40.","There was a man one time that was a blacksmith, and he used to go every night playing cards, and for all his wife could say he wouldn't leave off doing it. So one night she got a boy to go stand in the old churchyard he'd have to pass, and to frighten him. So the boy did so, and began to groan and to try to frighten him when he came near. But it's well known that nothing of that kind can do any harm to a blacksmith. So he went in and got hold of the boy, and told him he had a mind to choke him, and went his way. But no sooner was the boy left alone than there came about him something in the shape of a dog, and then a great troop of cats. And they surrounded him and he tried to get away home, but he had no power to go the way he wanted but had to go with them. And at last they came to an old forth and a faery bush, and he knelt down and made the sign of the cross and said a great many 'Our Fathers,' and after a time they went into the faery bush and left him. And he was going away and a woman came out of the bush, and called to him three times, to make him look back. And he saw that it was a woman that he knew before, that was dead, and so he knew that she was amongst the faeries. And she said to him, 'It's well for you that I was here, and worked hard for you, or you would have been brought in among them, and be like me.' So he got home. And the blacksmith got home too and his wife was surprised to see he was no way frightened. But he said, 'You might know that there's nothing of that sort could harm me.' For a blacksmith is safe from all, and when he goes out in the night he keeps always in his pocket a small bit of wire, and they know him by that. So he went on playing, and they grew very poor after.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,Godfather Charon,Greece (Lesbos),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Bernhard Schmidt, 'Gevatter Charos,' Griechische Märchen, Sagen und Volkslieder (Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1877), pp. 117-18. Source (Internet Archive): Bernhard Schmidt, 'Gevatter Charos,' Griechische Märchen, Sagen und Volkslieder (Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1877), pp. 117-18.","Once upon a time there was a very poor man who wished to take Charon as his godfather, and actually did so. Because he was now so poor, Charon advised him to become a doctor. In this way he would become wealthy. Charon said: 'If you see me sitting at the foot of the sick man, give him a few drops of colored water, and he will recover. If you see me sitting next to his body, do the same. But if you see me sitting close to his head, then you must say: 'The sick person will die; he cannot recover,' and go away.' The man did so. He became a famous doctor and acquired untold wealth. One day he he asked Godfather Charon: 'You are not going to take me away now, are you?' 'No,' Charon answered him, 'I'll not take you away until three years from now.' Then the man left his homeland to escape from Charon, and after a year's wanderings he arrived in a place where he thought Charon would not find him. However, just three years after he had left home, while he was drinking coffee in a coffee house, Charon suddenly appeared before him and said: 'Hello, godson! I haven't seen you for three years! It is now time for me to take your soul.' The doctor answered: 'No, dear godfather, no, dear Charon, don't take my soul. Let me live!' But Charon replied: 'No, I have no choice. God sent me.' And without further ado Charon took his soul. He was not even able to finish his coffee. Charon recognizes neither friendship nor kinship nor mercy. All people are equal in his eyes, and wherever they may flee, Charon knows how to find them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,Godfather Death (Gonzenbach),Italy (Sicily),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Laura Gonzenbach, 'Gevatter Tod,' Sicilianische Märchen, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1870), no. 19, pp. 123-24. Source (Internet Archive): Laura Gonzenbach, 'Gevatter Tod,' Sicilianische Märchen, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1870), no. 19, pp. 123-24.","When the good Lord saw this from heaven, he was annoyed and called Saint John and said to him: 'Listen, John, go to such and such a man and ask him why he hasn't had his son baptized yet.' So Saint John came down to earth and knocked on the man's door. 'Who's there?' asked the man. 'It's me, Saint John!' 'What do you want from me?' the man asked. 'The good Lord sent me,' said the saint. 'He wants to know why you haven't had your son baptized yet?' 'I haven't been able to find a good godparent,' answered the man. 'Well, if that's so,' said Saint John, then I'll be your child's godfather.' 'Thank you,' said the man, 'but that can't be. If you were my child's godfather, you would have only one wish: to take him to paradise as soon as possible, and I don't want that.' So Saint John had to go back to heaven without having achieved anything. Then the good Lord sent out Saint Peter to warn the man. But he didn't do any better. The man gave him the same answers that he had given to Saint John, and he did not want Saint Peter to be his son's godfather. Then the good Lord thought: 'Just what does he have in mind? He must want to give his son immortality, so I will have to send Death to him.' Then the good Lord called Death and sent him to the man to ask why he had not yet had the child baptized. So Death came to the man and knocked. 'Who's there?' asked the man. 'God sent me,' replied Death. 'He wants to know why your child hasn't been baptized yet.' 'Tell God,' said the man, 'I haven't found a suitable godparent yet.' 'Do you want me to be his godfather?' asked Death. 'Who are you then?' 'I am Death.' 'Yes,' cried the man, 'I would like you to be my child's godfather, and we shall have him baptized at once.' So the child was baptized. A few months later Godfather Death suddenly came back to the man. The man received him kindly and wanted to serve him all sorts of good things. But Death spoke: 'Don't go to so much trouble, I just came to take you away.' 'What?' cried the man in astonishment, 'I chose you to be my child's godfather, so that you would spare me and my wife and my son.' 'That's not possible,' replied Death. 'The sickle cuts any grass that it finds in its path. I cannot spare you.' Then Death took the man into a dark cellar, where a large number of lamps were burning on all the walls. 'You see,' he said, 'those are lights of life; every human has such a light, and when it goes out, they must die. 'Which one is my light?' asked the man. Then Death showed him a little lamp in which there was almost no oil left, and when it went out the man fell over and was dead. Did Death have the son die as well? Yes, of course. Death can spare no one. When his time was up, the son had to die also.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,Godfather Death (Grimm),Germany,The Grimms altered this tale somewhat in later editions. Link to an English translation of the 1857 version 'Godfather Death.' The Grimms included another tale of type 332 in their Kinder- und Haus-Märchen: 'Der Herr Gevatter' (no. 42). Link to an English translation 'The Godfather'. Link to an English translation 'The Godfather'.,"Source (Deutsches Textarchiv): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Gevatter Tod,' Kinder- und Haus-Märchen: Gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm (Berlin: in der Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 44, pp. 193-98. Source (Wikisource): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der Gevatter Tod,' Kinder- und Haus-Märchen: Gesammelt durch die Brüder Grimm (Berlin: in der Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 44, pp. 193-98.","Once upon a time there was an old man who already had twelve children, and when the thirteenth was born he did not know where to turn for help. In desperation he went into the woods. There the Good Lord happened upon him and said to him, 'I feel sorry for you, poor man. I will lift your child from his baptism and take care of him. He will be happy on earth.' The man answered, 'I do not want you as a godfather. You give to the rich and let the poor starve.' With that he left him standing there and continued on his way. Soon thereafter Death happened upon him and also said to him, 'I will be godfather for you and pick up your child. And if he has me as a friend, he will lack nothing. I will make a doctor of him.' The man said, 'I am satisfied with that, for without distinction you take the rich as well as the poor. Tomorrow is Sunday, when the child will be baptized. Be on time.' The next day Death arrived and held the child for his baptism. After he had grown up, Death came again and took his godchild into the woods, and said to him, 'Now you are to become a doctor. You must only pay attention when you are called to a sick person and see if I am standing at his head. If so, without further ado let him smell from this flask, then anoint his feet with its contents, and he soon will regain his health. But if I am standing at his feet, then he is finished, for I will soon take him. Do not attempt to begin a cure.' With that Death gave him the flask, and he became a renowned doctor. He only needed to see a patient, and he could immediately predict whether he would regain his health or die. Once he was summoned to the king, who was suffering from a serious illness. When the doctor approached him, he saw Death standing at the king's feet, and his flask would be of no use. But it occurred to him that he might deceive Death. Thus he took hold of the king and turned him around, so that Death was now standing at his head. It succeeded, and the king regained his health. After the doctor returned home, Death came to him, made angry and grim faces at him, and said, 'If you ever again attempt to deceive me, I shall wring your neck.' Soon afterward the king's beautiful daughter took ill. No one on earth could help her. The king wept day and night, until finally he proclaimed that whoever could cure her could have her as a reward. The doctor came and saw Death standing at her feet. Astonished at her beauty, he forgot the warning, turned her around, let her smell from the healing flask, and anointed the soles of her feet with its contents. He had scarcely returned home when Death with his terrifying face appeared before him, seized him, and carried him to an underground cavern where many thousand lights were burning. 'Look!' said Death. 'These are all the living. And here is a light that will burn only a little longer, and then go out. This is your life! Take heed!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,Godmother Death,Moravia,"Footnote: The Slavonians are rich in terms, both masculine and feminine, expressing the various relationships between godparents and godchildren and their parents. We have only one form, 'gossip,' which thus has to do duty for both the godmother and the father of the godchild. Return to the text..","Source (books.google.com): A. H. Wratislaw, Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources (London: Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 8, pp. 52-55. Source (Internet Archive): A. H. Wratislaw, Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources (London: Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 8, pp. 52-55.","There was a man, very poor in this world's goods, whose wife presented him with a baby boy. No one was willing to stand sponsor, because he was so very poor. The father said to himself: 'Dear Lord, I am so poor that no one is willing to be at my service in this matter; I'll take the baby, I'll go, and I'll ask the first person I meet to act as sponsor, and if I don't meet anybody, perhaps the sexton will help me.' He went and met Death, but didn't know what manner of person she was; she was a handsome woman, like any other woman. He asked her to be godmother. She didn't make any excuse, and immediately saluted him as parent of her godchild, took the baby in her arms, and carried him to church. The little lad was properly christened. When they came out of church, the child's father took the godmother to an inn, and wanted to give her a little treat as godmother. But she said to him, 'Gossip, leave this alone, and come with me to my abode.' She took him with her to her apartment, which was very handsomely furnished. Afterwards she conducted him into great vaults, and through these vaults they went right into the underworld in the dark. There tapers were burning of three sizes -- small, large, and middle-sized; and those which were not yet alight were very large. The godmother said to the godchild's father: 'Look, Gossip, here I have the duration of everybody's life.' The child's father gazed thereat, found there a tiny taper close to the very ground, and asked her: 'But, Gossip, I pray you, whose is this little taper close to the ground?' She said to him: 'That is yours! When any taper whatsoever burns down, I must go for that man.' He said to her: 'Gossip, I pray you, give me somewhat additional.' She said to him: 'Gossip, I cannot do that!' Afterwards she went and lighted a large new taper for the baby boy whom they had had christened. Meanwhile, while the godmother was not looking, the child's father took for himself a large new taper, lit it, and placed it where his tiny taper was burning down. The godmother looked round at him and said: 'Gossip, you ought not to have done that to me; but if you have given yourself additional lifetime, you have done so and possess it. Let us go hence, and we'll go to your wife.' She took a present, and went with the child's father and the child to the mother. She arrived, and placed the boy on his mother's bed, and asked her how she was, and whether she had any pain anywhere. The mother confided her griefs to her, and the father sent for some beer, and wanted to entertain her in his cottage, as godmother, in order to gratify her and show his gratitude. They drank and feasted together. Afterwards the godmother said to her godchild's father: 'Gossip, you are so poor that no one but myself would be at your service in this matter; but never mind, you shall bear me in memory! I will go to the houses of various respectable people and make them ill, and you shall physic and cure them. I will tell you all the remedies. I possess them all, and everybody will be glad to recompense you well, only observe this: When I stand at anyone's feet, you can be of assistance to every such person; but if I stand at anybody's head, don't attempt to aid him.' It came to pass. The child's father went from patient to patient, where the godmother caused illness, and benefited every one. All at once he became a distinguished physician. A prince was dying -- nay, he had breathed his last -- nevertheless, they sent for the physician. He came, he began to anoint him with salves and give him his powders, and did him good. When he had restored him to health, they paid him well, without asking how much they were indebted. Again, a count was dying. They sent for the physician again. The physician came. Death was standing behind the bed at his head. The physician cried: 'It's a bad case, but we'll have a try.' He summoned the servants, and ordered them to turn the bed round with the patient's feet towards Death, and began to anoint him with salves and administer powders into his mouth, and did him good. The count paid him in return as much as he could carry away, without ever asking how much he was indebted; he was only too glad that he had restored him to health. When Death met the physician, she said to him: 'Gossip, if this occurs to you again, don't play me that trick any more. True, you have done him good, but only for a while; I must, none the less, take him off whither he is due.' The child's father went on in this way for some years; he was now very old. But at last he was wearied out, and asked Death herself to take him. Death was unable to take shim, because he had given himself a long additional taper; she was obliged to wait till it burned out. One day he drove to a certain patient to restore him to health, and did so. Afterwards Death revealed herself to him, and rode with him in his carriage. She began to tickle and play with him, and tap him with a green twig under the throat; he threw himself into her lap, and went off into the last sleep. Death laid him in the carriage, and took herself off. They found the physician lying dead in his carriage, and conveyed him home. The whole town and all the villages lamented: 'That physician is much to be regretted. What a good doctor he was! He was of great assistance; there will never be his like again!' His son remained after him, but had not the same skill. The son went one day into church, and his godmother met him. She asked him: 'My dear son, how are you?' He said to her: 'Not all alike; so long as I have what my dad saved up for me, it is well with me, but after that the Lord God knows how it will be with me.' His godmother said: 'Well, my son, fear nought. I am your christening mamma; I helped your father to what he had, and will give you, too, a livelihood. You shall go to a physician as a pupil, and you shall be more skilful than he, only behave nicely.' After this she anointed him with salve over the ears, and conducted him to a physician. The physician didn't know what manner of lady it was, and what sort of son she brought him for instruction. The lady enjoined her son to behave nicely, and requested the physician to instruct him well, and bring him into a good position. Then she took leave of him and departed. The physician and the lad went together to gather herbs, and each herb cried out to the pupil what remedial virtue it had, and the pupil gathered it. The physician also gathered herbs, but knew not, with regard to any herb, what remedial virtue it possessed. The pupil's herbs were beneficial in every disease. The physician said to the pupil: 'You are cleverer than I, for I diagnose no one that comes to me; but you know herbs counter to every disease. Do you know what? Let us join partnership. I will give my doctor's diploma up to you, and will be your assistant, and am willing to be with you till death.' The lad was successful in doctoring and curing till his taper burned out in limbo.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,Gossip,NA,"Footnote: The Slavonians are rich in terms, both masculine and feminine, expressing the various relationships between godparents and godchildren and their parents. We have only one form, 'gossip,' which thus has to do duty for both the godmother and the father of the godchild. Return to the text..","Source (books.google.com): A. H. Wratislaw, Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources (London: Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 8, pp. 52-55. Source (Internet Archive): A. H. Wratislaw, Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources (London: Elliot Stock, 1889), no. 8, pp. 52-55.","She took him with her to her apartment, which was very handsomely furnished. Afterwards she conducted him into great vaults, and through these vaults they went right into the underworld in the dark. There tapers were burning of three sizes -- small, large, and middle-sized; and those which were not yet alight were very large. The godmother said to the godchild's father: 'Look, Gossip, here I have the duration of everybody's life.' The child's father gazed thereat, found there a tiny taper close to the very ground, and asked her: 'But, Gossip, I pray you, whose is this little taper close to the ground?' She said to him: 'That is yours! When any taper whatsoever burns down, I must go for that man.' He said to her: 'Gossip, I pray you, give me somewhat additional.' She said to him: 'Gossip, I cannot do that!' Afterwards she went and lighted a large new taper for the baby boy whom they had had christened. Meanwhile, while the godmother was not looking, the child's father took for himself a large new taper, lit it, and placed it where his tiny taper was burning down. The godmother looked round at him and said: 'Gossip, you ought not to have done that to me; but if you have given yourself additional lifetime, you have done so and possess it. Let us go hence, and we'll go to your wife.' She took a present, and went with the child's father and the child to the mother. She arrived, and placed the boy on his mother's bed, and asked her how she was, and whether she had any pain anywhere. The mother confided her griefs to her, and the father sent for some beer, and wanted to entertain her in his cottage, as godmother, in order to gratify her and show his gratitude. They drank and feasted together. Afterwards the godmother said to her godchild's father: 'Gossip, you are so poor that no one but myself would be at your service in this matter; but never mind, you shall bear me in memory! I will go to the houses of various respectable people and make them ill, and you shall physic and cure them. I will tell you all the remedies. I possess them all, and everybody will be glad to recompense you well, only observe this: When I stand at anyone's feet, you can be of assistance to every such person; but if I stand at anybody's head, don't attempt to aid him.' It came to pass. The child's father went from patient to patient, where the godmother caused illness, and benefited every one. All at once he became a distinguished physician. A prince was dying -- nay, he had breathed his last -- nevertheless, they sent for the physician. He came, he began to anoint him with salves and give him his powders, and did him good. When he had restored him to health, they paid him well, without asking how much they were indebted. Again, a count was dying. They sent for the physician again. The physician came. Death was standing behind the bed at his head. The physician cried: 'It's a bad case, but we'll have a try.' He summoned the servants, and ordered them to turn the bed round with the patient's feet towards Death, and began to anoint him with salves and administer powders into his mouth, and did him good. The count paid him in return as much as he could carry away, without ever asking how much he was indebted; he was only too glad that he had restored him to health. When Death met the physician, she said to him: 'Gossip, if this occurs to you again, don't play me that trick any more. True, you have done him good, but only for a while; I must, none the less, take him off whither he is due.' The child's father went on in this way for some years; he was now very old. But at last he was wearied out, and asked Death herself to take him. Death was unable to take shim, because he had given himself a long additional taper; she was obliged to wait till it burned out. One day he drove to a certain patient to restore him to health, and did so. Afterwards Death revealed herself to him, and rode with him in his carriage. She began to tickle and play with him, and tap him with a green twig under the throat; he threw himself into her lap, and went off into the last sleep. Death laid him in the carriage, and took herself off. They found the physician lying dead in his carriage, and conveyed him home. The whole town and all the villages lamented: 'That physician is much to be regretted. What a good doctor he was! He was of great assistance; there will never be his like again!' His son remained after him, but had not the same skill. The son went one day into church, and his godmother met him. She asked him: 'My dear son, how are you?' He said to her: 'Not all alike; so long as I have what my dad saved up for me, it is well with me, but after that the Lord God knows how it will be with me.' His godmother said: 'Well, my son, fear nought. I am your christening mamma; I helped your father to what he had, and will give you, too, a livelihood. You shall go to a physician as a pupil, and you shall be more skilful than he, only behave nicely.' After this she anointed him with salve over the ears, and conducted him to a physician. The physician didn't know what manner of lady it was, and what sort of son she brought him for instruction. The lady enjoined her son to behave nicely, and requested the physician to instruct him well, and bring him into a good position. Then she took leave of him and departed. The physician and the lad went together to gather herbs, and each herb cried out to the pupil what remedial virtue it had, and the pupil gathered it. The physician also gathered herbs, but knew not, with regard to any herb, what remedial virtue it possessed. The pupil's herbs were beneficial in every disease. The physician said to the pupil: 'You are cleverer than I, for I diagnose no one that comes to me; but you know herbs counter to every disease. Do you know what? Let us join partnership. I will give my doctor's diploma up to you, and will be your assistant, and am willing to be with you till death.' The lad was successful in doctoring and curing till his taper burned out in limbo.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,Juan Holgado and Death,Spain,"The tale in Spanish: Books.google.com: Fernán Caballero, 'Juan Holgado y la Muerte,' Cuentos y poesías populares andaluces (Sevilla: Revista Mercantil, 1859), pp. 138-47. Internet Archive: Fernán Caballero, 'Juan Holgado y la Muerte,' Cuentos y poesías populares andaluces (Sevilla: Revista Mercantil, 1859), pp. 138-47. Books.google.com: Fernán Caballero, 'Juan Holgado y la Muerte,' Cuentos y poesías populares andaluces (Sevilla: Revista Mercantil, 1859), pp. 138-47. Internet Archive: Fernán Caballero, 'Juan Holgado y la Muerte,' Cuentos y poesías populares andaluces (Sevilla: Revista Mercantil, 1859), pp. 138-47. The concluding episode is a type 335 folktale, 'Death's Messengers.'","Source (books.google.com): Fernán Caballero, The Bird of Truth and Other Fairy Tales (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein and Company, [1883]), pp. 162-71. Source (Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford): Fernán Caballero, The Bird of Truth and Other Fairy Tales (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein and Company, [1883]), pp. 162-71.","Once upon a time there was a certain man named Juan Holgado (i.e., John Well-Off ); and truly nobody could have less deserved such a name, for morning nor evening, as a rule, could the poor fellow get enough to satisfy his hunger. Moreover he had a heap of youngsters with gullets like sharks. One day Juan Holgado said to his wife: 'These brats are a pack of gluttons, and are capable of swallowing oilcloth itself. I should like to eat a hare by myself, at my pleasure, and without those young mastiffs to take it out of my mouth.' His wife, -- who was a sweet woman, and always endeavouring to improve matters, in order not to worry the children, -- sold a dozen of eggs, which her hens had just laid, bought a hare with the money, cooked it with some meat broth, and early in the morning on the following day said to her husband: 'Here in this pan is a cooked hare and half a loaf of bread; go and eat them in the field and much good may it do you.' Juan Holgado was not deaf, but seized the pan and ran off without waiting to see which way he was going. After he had gone about a league and a half, he sat down beneath the shade of an olive-tree, more contented than a king, and, recommending himself to our Lady of Loneliness, drew forth the bread, and putting down the pipkin with the hare in it, prepared for the feast. But just imagine his feelings when he suddenly saw, seated in front of him, an old woman dressed in black, and as ugly as -- an unwilling gift! She was yellower and as skinny as lawyer's parchment; her eyes were as sunken and ghastly as a burnt-out lamp; her mouth was like a basket, whilst as for a nose -- well, she had none, not even the memory of one. The grace which Juan Holgado said when he beheld this companion, dropped as it seemed from the clouds, was not a benediction. But what was to be done? He was not quite a barbarian, so he asked her if she would like to eat. As the old woman wished for nothing else, she answered that, rather than be unmannerly, she would partake of his meal. She seated herself and began to eat. Good gracious! It was not eating, but devouring. What a gullet! In a twinkling she had put the whole hare out of sight. 'By all that is holy!' said Juan Holgado to himself; 'it would have been better to have had my children to eat the hare than this old she demon! When one is unlucky, nothing ever goes right.' When the old woman had finished -- and not even the hare's tail was left -- she said: 'Juan Holgado, I liked that hare very much.' 'So I have seen!' replied Juan Holgado. 'I wish to repay the favour.' 'May you live a thousand years!' slily remarked Juan, as he noticed the old lady's decrepitude. 'Doubtless I shall,' responded she, 'as I am Death herself.' Juan Holgado gave a very uneasy start, as he invoked Heaven. 'Do not disturb yourself, Juan Holgado, that need not trouble you. In order to repay you your favour, I am going to give you some advice. Become a doctor; for, according to my experience, there is no such a profession in the world as that, for becoming famous and gaining money. 'Madam Death, I should be very contented if, instead of that, you would oblige me with a good crop of years for myself; besides, the medical business is not in my line.' 'Why not, man?' 'Because I have never studied it.' 'That is nothing.' 'Madam, I know neither Latin nor Greek.' 'It does not matter.' 'Madam, I know nothing of Geography.' 'That does not affect the question.' 'Madam, I cannot count beyond one.' 'It is all the same.' 'Madam, my hand trembles so that I can not write; nor can I read without getting into a brown study.' 'Nonsense, fibber, nonsense!' said Death. 'I am getting impatient at so many difficulties. Strange too with a fellow like you, Juan Holgado, who has a good sound headpiece! Have I not been saying for the last hour, that it does not matter? I tell you, I would not give a penny whistle for all the doctors know: I neither come nor go because they call me, or know me. I please myself, and laugh at the doctors; and when I like, I lay hold of one by the ear and carry him off. When the world was first peopled there were no doctors, and then things went on comfortably and pleasantly, but as soon as doctors were invented there were no more Methuselahs. You shall be a doctor, without any more fuss; and if you refuse, you shall come with me now, as sure as I am Death. Now attend to me, and be silent. In your whole life you have never prescribed anything but pure water, have you?' 'There you are right,' answered Juan Holgado, who was more prepared to assent to what Death said than to listen to her. 'If, when you enter a room, you see me seated at the head of the invalid, you may be sure that the person will die, that there is no remedy, and that you may prepare the person for me. If, on the contrary, I am not there, you may assure the invalid of recovery, and prescribe pure water.' With these words the very ugly old woman took leave, after making a profound courtesy. 'Good madam,' said Juan Holgado, 'I did not wish to take leave of you with that 'Until we meet again;' and I hope that your ladyship will have little desire of visiting me, because I have not always got a hare with which to regale myself, and when I had this one, the old thief carried it off.' 'Don't be troubled, Juan Holgado,' said Death, 'whilst your house is not dilapidated I will not call there.' Juan Holgado returned home and related to his wife what had passed; and his wife, who was more quickwitted than he, said to him, that whatsoever the old woman had said to him he might believe, because there was no one more truthful and certain than Death. And she soon spread about that her husband was a skilful doctor, and that he had only to look at an invalid in order to be able to know whether he would die or recover. One Sunday there were a bevy of young girls, as merry as kittens, standing at the door of a house as Juan Holgado passed by. 'Here comes Juan Holgado,' said one of them,' who at the end of his days sets up for a doctor. It is as if one went in for salad soup at the end of a feast! And so now he is to be called Don Juan, and the Don becomes him about as well as a high-crowned hat would a mule!' And they all began to sing ironically. 'Let us have a joke with this conceited fellow!' said one of the girls. 'I will pretend to be ill, and see if he will believe it.' No sooner said than done. The girls left a basket of figs that they were eating from, and before you could say 'Jack Robinson,' the girl who devised the scheme was in bed, and all of the others were pretending to bemoan her. Choking with laughter, they ran off to call Juan Holgado. He came, and as he entered he noticed at the street door a great heap of figskins. Inside the door, the first person to greet him was his compatriot Death, who was seated at the head of the bed, more serious than an empty bottle. 'She is very ill,' then said Juan Holgado, and was going away. 'What is the matter with her?' said the girls, who could scarcely refrain from laughter. 'She has a surfeit of figs,' replied he. Juan Holgado went away, and in two hours the girl was dead. The reputation which this gave to our doctor may be imagined. When ever any one was ill in future, Juan Holgado was called in; and he gained guineas so quickly that he did not know what to do with them. He bought a title for his family, and some orders of knighthood for his sons. In the meanwhile he was satisfied with things as they went, so that he grew so fat and round that it did one good to see him; his face was like the full moon; his legs like pillars, and his fingers like sausages. All this time Juan Holgado was very careful of his house. When the youngsters did any little injury to any part of it, he inflicted corporal punishment on them. He always retained a mason in his employ, whom he paid by the year, to keep the house in order, for he remembered that Death had told him that whilst he kept his house free from dilapidation she would not call there. The years passed by, and each time ran faster than before, like a stone running down hill. The last brought a bad state of affairs. Juan Holgado received them very ungraciously, and in revenge one carried away his hair, another his teeth, another bent his backbone nearly double, and another obliged him with a limp. One day he was very bad, and Death sent him a warning by a bat, for which Juan Holgado was not very thankful. Another day he was suffering from phlegm, and Death sent to say, by an agent, that she was ready to visit him. Juan Holgado said to the messenger that it was all make-believe with him. Another day an accident happened, and Death sent word by a dog, which howled outside his door, in the street. Juan Holgado took his crutch to the dog, and gave it a hard whack. The invalid grew worse, and Death called at the door. Juan ordered it to be barred, and that it should not be opened to her; but she managed to get in through a crack. 'Madam Death,' said Juan Holgado to her, with a very bad grace,' you said that you would not come for me whilst my house house was free from dilapidation; thus it is, that in spite of your messages, I have not expected you.' 'What!' exclaimed Death.' Don't you know that you have lost your powers? Don't you see that you have lost your teeth and your hair? Your body is your house.' 'I did not know that, madam,' said the invalid; 'thus it is that I trusted in your words, and your arrival takes me by surprise.' 'So much the worse for you, Juan Holgado,' replied Death, 'for he who is always forewarned is never surprised nor troubled at my coming; but you were blind, when you did not know that you were born to die; and you die in order to gain rest.' The tale in Spanish:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,Story,Ireland (County Mayo),"The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s. Link to additional Godfather Death Tales in The Schools' Collection, both in English and in Irish.","dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Mayo >> Loch Measca, pp. 418-20.","Once upon a time, there lived a man and his wife who had only one son. When the son was born, his father said he would have to get an honest man to stand for the child. He set out on his journey early in the morning. When he went some distance he met a man who asked him where was he going. 'I am going to get an honest man to stand for my child,' said he. 'Will I do?' said the man. 'Who are you?' he inquired. 'I am God,' said the man. 'Well you won't do, because you are too good to some people, and bad to others.' So he went another bit of the way, and he met another man, who asked him where was he going. 'I am going in search of an honest man to stand for my child,' he said. 'Maybe I'd do,' said the man. 'Who are you,' he said. 'I am the devil,' the man said. 'God himself is fairer than you,' he said and away he went. He met another man who asked him where was he going. 'I am going in search of an honest man to stand for my child, who is after being born,' he said. 'Will I do?' asked the man. 'Who are you?' he asked. 'I am Death,' he said. 'Well you are a fair man anyway because you bring the poor along with you as well as the rich.' He said he would stand for the child, but that when the child would come to a certain age he would have to go to College in order to be a doctor. When he came to be a doctor he met Death one day. He said to the doctor that when ever he went attending the sick if he saw him at the head of the person's bed they would not be cured, but if he saw him at the foot of the bed the person would be cured. One day he heard of a great princess being sick and there was a great reward for what ever doctor would cure her. The doctor went to the palace of the princess and saw her there ready to die. Death was at her head, so he saw that she could not be cured. Then he changed her in the bed, by putting her feet where her head was and then she was cured. He got his money, but he met Death at the gate. Death said to him that he would have to die instead of the princess. The doctor said he would die, but to give him time to say a few certain prayers, so death said he would. 'Alright,' he said, 'you will wait a long time before I will say them.' It happened one night that the young doctor was going along the road when he found an old man lying on the side of the road moaning. He went to the old man and asked him what was wrong with him. The old man told him that he had some certain prayers to say, and he was not able to say them, so the young doctor took pity on him and said them for him. The prayers that he said were the same ones that Death gave him to say, so as soon as he had the last of them said, the old man stood up and said to the young doctor, 'I am Death, so now you must die.' Collector: Beatrice Casey, female. Informant: Mattie Casey, male, age 52.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,The Doctor and Death,Denmark,"Kristensen's source: Jens Mark, Vogslev.","Source (books.google.com): Evald Tang Kristensen, 'Doktoren og Døden,' Æventyr fra Jylland, vol. 3 (Kjøbenhavn: Karl Schønberg, 1895), no. 46, pp. 251-53. Source (Internet Archive): Evald Tang Kristensen, 'Doktoren og Døden,' Æventyr fra Jylland, vol. 3 (Kjøbenhavn: Karl Schønberg, 1895), no. 46, pp. 251-53.","There was a very poor man who had to make arrangements for his child's baptism. But did not know where he was going, nor whom he might find to serve as godparents. At last he met a person who asked him where he was going. He was looking for godparents. 'Then you can just ask me,' said the stranger. Yes, that would do, but the man wanted to know who the stranger was. 'I'm the one they call the Devil,' he said. 'No, I do not want you, for you are evil. You only want to hurt people.' Then the two parted. He went on his way again, and someone else approached him. The stranger asked him where he was going. He was looking for godparents. 'Then you can just as well ask me as anyone else.' Of course he wanted to know who the stranger was. He was the one they call Our Lord. 'No, I do not want you, because you make people different. You make both the poor and the rich, and you do not care.' Then he went on his way again, thinking: 'I must be able to find someone who is suitable for me.' Then he met a third person, who asked him the same question, and then said: 'You can just as well ask me as anyone else.' He wanted to know who this stranger was. He always had this question. He was Death. 'You are the one I want, for you are an honest man, and no one passes you by. You take everyone with you, both poor and rich. Death was was pleased that he had been invited, and he wanted to wish him well. 'Yes, God help me,' said the Man, 'but I do not know what I want.' 'Well, for example, you could want to be a Doctor.' 'I do not know about medicine or anything like that.' 'Well, that doesn't matter. I will tell you just one thing. Now you know who I am, and when you are called to the sick and see me sitting at the head of the bed, you must not bother to treat them, for they shall die. However, if am sitted at their feet, they will revover, no matter what you give them.' So he pretended to be a doctor, and everyone came to him to be cured. He had been very poor before, but now he became wealthy. He was famous, and wherever he went there was no one like him. Once he was called on to treat a king from a foreign land who had lain ill for many years. When he came in to the sick man, Death was seated at the head of the bed. Now he did not want the king to die, for he had long since been overcome by the lust for money and fame. So he ordered that the sick king should be turned around, and the king did indeed recover, for Death was now seated at his feet. For this service he got everything he could want, and more. Then he returned home, and for a time lived in wealth at his own estate. Then Death came to him once more, saying that now he should die. He pleaded to be allowed to live a little longer. No, that was not possible, for he had deceived Death with the king. 'May I not be allowed to read the Lord's Prayer before I die?' Yes, for it would be a sin to deny him that. 'Then, in truth, it will be a long time before I read it.' Now he was on his feet again and could cure as usual. Everyone who came to him was cured. However, it was wrong that he could not read the Lord's Prayer. He longed terribly to do so. Then one day he met a little herder boy. He asked the boy if he could read something. 'Only a little,' replied the boy. That was not much of an answer. Could he read the Lord's Prayer? He was not sure. He had known it, but now he hardly knew if he could still do so. So the boy was supposed to read it, but he could not begin. Then the doctor took over and said: 'Our father....' The boy could not continue, so the doctor had to keep saying the prayer word for word until he came to the end. Then Death suddenly appeared to him again, and this time he had to give up his life. He now had become an old, decrepit man.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,The Godson of Death,France,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Auguste Ferrand, 'Le filleul de la Mort,' Revue des traditions populaires, vol. 10 (1895), p. 594. Source (Internet Archive): Auguste Ferrand, 'Le filleul de la Mort,' Revue des traditions populaires, vol. 10 (1895), p. 594.","A Legend from Dauphiné Once upon a time there was a man who had twelve children, and a thirteenth came to him. Very sadly he was walking along the path. He met a tall woman: It was Death. She said to him: 'What is it, my friend, that you are so sad?' 'In order to have my child baptized, I am looking for godfathers and godmothers, and I cannot find any.' The tall woman said, 'Well! I will be your little one's godmother.' When the child was grown, he was very intelligent. His godmother had him raised to be a doctor. She gave him the gift of being a skilled doctor. Before he went to his first patient, Death gave him this secret: 'My godson, if you see me at the head of the bed, you can say that the patient will not recover, but if you see me at the foot of the bed, you can say with complete certainty that you will heal him.' This secret gave the doctor a great reputation, and the king heard about his great skill. The king's daughter became ill. The king summoned the doctor and said to him: 'If you cure my daughter, I will give her to you in marriage.' When the doctor came to the patient, Death was at her head. The doctor thought: 'What should I do?' He immediately brought in four men and had them turn the bed so that Death was now at the foot. Thus the skillful doctor cured the king's daughter, and the king showered him with riches. However, Death called him to the underground where the candles of life were, and admonished him that if he ever returned, he would die. Death forgave him the first time. Then the king became ill, and he called the doctor back. Death was at the head of the bed. The doctor used the same stratagem as for the girl: He turned the foot of the bed to the head, and Death thus found himself at the foot. The king was healed. However, Death called the skillful doctor back to the underground and told him that he had broken his promise and abused her kindness. Death showed him his candle which was burnt up. The doctor had to die. All his gifts and all his fortune were of no use to him against Death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,The Just Man (Italy),Italy,Note that the 'just man' in this tale is a woman.,"Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company, 1885), no. 67, pp. 226-27.","Once upon a time there was a peasant and his wife who had a child that they would not baptize until they could find a just man for his godfather. The father took the child in his arms and went into the street to look for this just man. After he had walked along a while, he met a man, who was our Lord, and said to him, 'I have this child to baptize, but I do not want to give him to anyone who is not just. Are you just?' The Lord answered, 'But -- I don't know whether I am just.' Then the peasant passed on and met a woman, who was the Madonna, and said to her, 'I have this child to baptize and do not wish to give him to anyone who is not just. Are you just?' 'I don't know,' said the Madonna. 'But go on, for you will find someone who is just.' He went his way and met another woman, who was Death, and said to her, 'I have been sent to you, for I have been told that you are just, and I have this child to baptize, and do not wish to give it to one who is not just. Are you just?' Death said, 'Yes, I believe I am just! Let us baptize the child, and then I will show you whether I am just.' Then they baptized the child, and afterwards Death led the peasant into a very long room, where there were many lights burning. 'Godmother,' said the man, astonished at seeing all the light, 'what are all these lights?' Death said, 'These are the lights of all the souls in the world. Would you like to see, friend? This is yours and this is your son's' When the peasant saw that his light was about to expire, he said, 'And when the oil is all consumed, godmother?' 'Then,' answered Death, 'you must come with me, for I am Death.' 'Oh! for mercy's sake,' cried the peasant, 'let me at least take a little oil from my son's lamp and put it in mine!' 'No, no, godfather,' said Death. 'I don't do anything of that sort. You wished to see a just person, and a just person you have found. And now go home and arrange your affairs, for I am waiting for you.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,The Just Man (Luzel),France (Lower Brittany),NA,"Source (books.google.com): François-Marie Luzel, 'L'homme juste,' Légendes chrétiennes de la Basse-Bretagne (Paris: Maisonneuve et Cie., 1881), pp. 335-43. Source (Internet Archive): François-Marie Luzel, 'L'homme juste,' Légendes chrétiennes de la Basse-Bretagne (Paris: Maisonneuve et Cie., 1881), pp. 335-43.","There was once a poor man whose wife had just given birth to a son. He wanted his child to have a just man as godfather, and he set out to find him. As he was walking, his stick in his hand, he first met a stranger, who looked like an honest man, and who asked him: 'Where are you going, my good man?' -- I'm looking for a godfather for my new son. -- Well! Do you want me? I am at your disposal, if you please. -- Yes, but... I want a just man. -- Well! you could not have timed better; I am your man. -- So who are you?' -- I am the good Lord. -- You just? Lord God!... No! No! Everywhere on earth I hear people complaining about you. -- Why ist that, if you please? -- Why? For a thousand and a thousand different reasons.... Some complain because you sent them to this world weak, disabled, or sickly, while others are strong and full of health, but are not more deserving than the sickly ones. Furthermore, there are very honest people, I know more than one, who work like dogs continually, but you leave them poor and miserable, while their wasteful, heartless, good-for-nothing neighbors.... No, hold on, you won't be my son's godfather. Goodbye!... And the fellow went on his way, grumbling. A little further on he met a tall old man with a long white beard. 'Where are you going, my good man?' asked the old man. -- Looking for a godfather for my newborn son. -- I'm quite willing to act as his godfather, if you like. Would that suit you? -- Yes, but I must tell you first that I want my son's godfather to be a just man. -- A just man? Well I am, I think. -- So who are you? -- Saint Peter. -- The gatekeeper of paradise, the one who holds the keys? -- Yes, that very one. -- Well! But you're not just either. -- 'I am not just? Me!' replied Saint Peter with ill humor. 'And, my good man, please tell me why not. -- Why not? Ah! I will tell you: I have been told that you refuse your door to honest people, hard-working men like myself for petty offences. And why? Because, after working hard all week, they may drink a pint too much of cider on Sundays,... and then, need I say any more? You are the prince of the apostles, the head of the Church, are you not? Saint Peter nodded, in agreement. -- Well, in your church it's like everywhere else: Nothing there is more important than money. The rich come before the poor like everywhere else.... No, you won't be my son's godfather either. Goodbye!... And he went on his way, still grumbling. He then met an unpleasant-looking fellow. He was carrying a large scythe over his shoulder, like a reaper going to his work. -- Where are you going, my good man?' the stranger asked him. -- To find a godfather for my newborn son. -- Do you want me as your godfather? -- First I must tell you that I want a just man. -- A just man! You will never find anyone more just than I am. -- Everyone tells me that. But who are you? -- I am Death. -- Ah, yes! You are really just. You have no preference for anyone, and you do your job honestly. Rich and poor, noble and common, king and subject, young and old, weak and strong.... You take them all when their time has come. You do not let yourself be softened or weakened by tears, threats, prayers, or gold. Yes, you are truly just, and you will be my son's godfather. Come with me. And the man returned to his cottage, taking with him the godfather he had chosen for his son. Death held the infant at the baptismal font, and afterwards there was a little meal in the poor man's cottage, where they drank cider and ate white bread, unlike their everyday fare. Before leaving, the godfather said to his friend: 'You are very good people, your wife and you; but you are very poor! As you have chosen me to be the godfather of your son, I want to express my gratitude to you by revealing a secret that will make you earn a lot of money. You, friend, you are going to become a doctor now, and this is how you should behave: When you are called to a sick person, if you see me at the head of the bed, you can affirm that you will cure him, and give him anything as a remedy, even plain water. If you do so, he will always recover. If, to the contrary, you see me with my scythe at the foot of the bed, there will be nothing you can do. The patient will surely die, whatever you do to try to save him. Here, then, is our fake medical doctor, putting into practice the system of his friend Death, and predicting, always with certainty, when his patients will recover or die. Because he was never mistaken, and, moreover, because the remedies did not cost him dearly, since he only gave plain water to his patients, whatever the disease, he was highly sought after and soon became rich. However, Death, when he had occasion to pass by, came in from time to time to see his godson and talk with his friend. The child grew and developed wonderfully, but the doctor, to the contrary, grew older and weaker every day. One day Death said to him: 'I always come to see you when I pass by here, but you've not yet come to my house. You must come and visit me, so that I can in turn be your host and show you my home.' 'I'm in no hurry to visit you,' replied the doctor, 'because I know that once someone is at your place, comrade, they don't come back the way they want to.' -- Don't worry about that. I won't detain you until your time has come. You know that I am the most just of all men. So the doctor left one night to visit his friend. They went overland for a long time: over hill and dale, crossing arid plains, forests, rivers, rivers, and regions completely unknown to the doctor. Finally, Death stopped in front of an old castle surrounded by high walls, in the middle of a dark forest, and said to his companion: 'It is here.' They entered. The master of the gloomy manor first entertained his guest magnificently, then, on leaving the table, he led him into an immense room where millions of candles of all sizes were burning: long, medium, and short. They burned more or less steadily, and cast light more or less clearly. Our man was at first astonished, dazzled, and speechless before this spectacle. Then, when he could speak: 'What do all these lights mean, my friend?' he asked. -- These are the lights of life, my friend. -- The lights of life? What do they mean? -- All humans who now live on earth have candles there, to which their lives are attached. -- But there are long ones, medium ones, short ones, bright ones, dull ones, dying ones... Why? -- Yes, it's like all human lives: some are just beginning; others are in their prime with all their brilliance; others are weak and wavering; others finally are about to die out.... -- Why is this one so long and tall? -- It is that of a child who has just been born. -- And this other one, how brilliant and beautiful this light is! -- It is that of someone in the prime of life. -- Here's one that's going to die out for want of wax. -- He is an old man who is dying. -- And mine, where is it? I would like to see it. -- Here it is, near you. -- That one? Ah! My God, it is almost completely consumed! It will go out! -- Yes, you only have three more days to live! -- What are you saying? What, only three days!... But since I am your friend, and you are the master here, could you not make my candle last a little longer -- for example, by taking a little from that long one and adding it to mine?... -- The long one is your son's, and if I did as you are asking, I would no longer be the just person you were looking for. 'That is true,' replied the doctor, calming himself and heaving a deep sigh.... And he then returned home, put his affairs in order, called the priest of his parish, and died three days later -- just as his friend Death had predicted. Told by J. Corvez, from Plourin, Finistère, 1876.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
332,The Poor Man and Death,Hungary,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Georg Gaal, 'Der Arme und der Tod,' Ungarische Volksmärchen (Pest: Verlag von Gustav Heckenast, 1857), no. 4, pp. 30-33. Source (Internet Archive): Georg Gaal, 'Der Arme und der Tod,' Ungarische Volksmärchen (Pest: Verlag von Gustav Heckenast, 1857), no. 4, pp. 30-33.","Once upon a time there was a poor man who had as many children as there are holes in a sieve, even more. When his last one was born, he could no longer find a godfather, for everyone he knew was already a godfather. So he went away and wandered through seven countries, and then seven more, to see if he could find a godfather somewhere. Walking without stopping to rest, he suddenly came upon the Lord Jesus, who asked him: 'Where are you going, poor man?' 'I'm looking for a godfather for my little child,' he replied. 'I hope that I can find one.' 'Listen,' said the Lord Jesus to him. 'Don't look any further. I will serve as your little child's godfather right away.' Then the poor man said: 'Who are you then?' 'I am Jesus.' 'Oh!' said the poor man. 'I can't use you. You only love the good ones.' So he went on again without stopping to rest, and then he came upon Death. Death spoke to him: 'Where are you going, poor man?' 'I'm looking for a godfather for my son,' he replied. 'I hope that I can find one.' Then Death said to him: 'Listen. Don't look any further. I will serve as your son's godfather right away.' Then the poor man said: 'Who are you? 'I am Death.' 'All right,' said the poor man. 'I will take you for my son's godfather, for you love the bad as well as the good.' Then Death said to him: 'Come walk along with me a little longer. I want to change into my Sunday clothes; otherwise people will recognize me straight away.' So the poor man went to Death's house. Here he was very frightened, because many large and small lights were burning in the house. He asked Death: 'What are all those lights?' Death said: 'These are the lights of life. Every human being has one here, and they can only live as long as their light burns.' Then the poor man said to Death: 'Be so kind as to show me mine.' Death showed him one that could only burn for a very little while longer. Then the poor man said to Death: 'Listen, Godfather! Add a little candle-stub to my light; otherwise it soon will go out.' But Death said, 'That's not possible, comrade! I mustn't make the lights burn any longer. That would make Resurrection angry with me, for then she would not find anyone to awaken.' But the poor begged and begged, until Death finally added a candle-stub to his light. Death next went to the poor man's house, where there was a tremendous baptismal feast. Death got a little drunk. He was so merry that he gave the poor man power to heal any sick person (even one close to death), if he but touched their bed, or stood in front of them. However, if would ever say the Lord's Prayer or Amen, then he himself would soon die. Because of his great power the poor man soon became very famous. He was called everywhere to heal the sick: to noble lords and to kings. He became very rich. When Death took leave from him, he told him to visit him quite often. But now it was a few years later, and he had not yet visited Death. Finally he thought that it was time for him to visit Death. He had his beautiful silvery-white horses harnessed to the glass carriage (for he had become very rich), and galloped to Death. Approaching Death's house, he found a child crying in the street; he immediately took him into the carriage and asked him why he was crying. 'Oh,' said the little child, 'I'm crying because my dear father hit me because I didn't know a word when I was praying.' The man asked: 'What was the word? Our father?' 'No, that wasn't it,' said the child. The man then said all the words of the Lord's Prayer to the end -- but the forgotten word wasn't there. At last he said: 'Was it Amen?' 'Yes, that's it,' said Death, for it was really him in the form of a crying child. 'Amen for you, comrade. Amen!' Then the man died on the spot. But his sons shared the great wealth and are still alive if they have not died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
327,An Old Story,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Cavan >> Blacklion, p. 237.","Once upon a time there was a cruel father and he had two little children, a boy and a girl. He led them into a large wood. They walked through the wood for a while, and the father asked the children if they were feeling hungry, and they said they were. The father said he would go and get something for them to eat. He went away, and never returned, and the children wandered through the wood, and after a while died with starvation. It is said that the robins brought leaves and covered their dead bodies. Written by Rupert Elliott. Told by my Mother.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
327,The Children and the Witch,Jamaica,"Beckwith's informant: Emily Alexander, Manderville.","Source (Internet Archive): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 110, pp. 146-47. Source (Sacred Texts): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 110, pp. 146-47.","There was a poor man and his wife and two children. He had nothing to give them but a slice of bread and cold water for the day. So one day he got up, took the children into the bush and pretended to be chopping the tree; then, as the children were playing, slipped away. When the wife asked for the children, he told her he had left them in the bush and she fretted and worried all day. Life became easier for them day by day, and the man became sorry that he had left them in the wood. The children, when they missed their father, started to travel through the wood to see if they could find their way home. A little black bird said to them, 'Follow me and I will show you your way home!' but this little black bird was an Old Witch. It carried them to a house made out of nothing but cakes, sweets and all manner of nice things, and then the bird vanished away from them. But they were so glad to get the cakes and sweets that they began eating at once. Immediately as they touched the first cake, the door of the house opened and a very ugly-looking blind old woman came out to them and asked them what they were doing there; so they told her how they had been lost in the bush. She took them into the house, put one in a cage and had one to do all the work of the house. Every evening she went to feed the one in the cage, and asked him to stick out his hand to see if he was getting fat; so the one left in the house gave him a bone to stretch out instead, because the Old Witch was blind and could only feel. The one in the cage was getting very fat and rosy. One day she went to the cage and asked him to stretch out his hand and the child stretched out the bone; so she became very impatient, said she couldn't wait any longer and would kill him that very day for dinner, and asked the one in the house to heat up the oven. Then the Witch told the one in the house to see if the oven was hot enough; the Witch was going to shut the door on her and let her stay in there and bake. But the girl was smart and said she did not know how to get into it, she must show her the way. As the Witch went into the oven, she pushed her in and shut the door, and the Witch stood in there squealing till she was burned to death. Then the girl ran and took the boy out of the cage, took some of the cakes and nice things off the house, and ran to their own home. The parents were so glad to see them that they kept a ball for them that night, and they told the story how they had killed the Witch.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
327,The House of Candy,Czechia,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Božena Němcová, The Disobedient Kids and Other Czecho-Slovak Fairy Tales (Prague: B. Koči, 1921), unpaginated.","Once upon a time there was a poor father, who had two children, Jan and Marie. His daily work was to cut wood in the forest. He was very, very poor. He had no one to take care of the children. They were all alone. As he was away all day, he felt that he should marry again, so that the children should have a mother's care. But the stepmother proved to be a very cruel, neglectful woman who did not want to work. Not only did she not love the children, but she wanted to get rid of them, so she gave her husband no peace. She made up all kinds of lies about the wickedness of the children and said that he must get rid of them. She commanded him to take them to the woods and leave them there. He was afraid of her and at last consented. Therefore one day, he said to the children with a sad heart, 'Take your little baskets and come with me to the woods to pick strawberries.' They jumped with joy and at once taking their little baskets, they went most happily with their father to the woods. When they were deep in the forest, the father led them to an open place where there were many berries, in fact the place was red with the luscious fruit. 'Now, dear ones,' he said, 'Pick all the berries you please, while I am away. As long as you hear me cutting wood, you will know that I am nearby.' The children began eagerly to pick berries, and the father went a little ways on, where he bound his mallet on a tree. It swung back and forth in the wind, hitting the tree and making a noise like the cutting of wood. When this had been done, the father returned home, leaving the children in the woods. When Jan and Marie had their baskets full of berries, and had eaten their fill, they began to think of looking for their father. They went to the place where they heard the sound of the swinging mallet, but they saw nothing of their father, only the mallet hitting against the tree. This mallet was a big hammer which he used for driving in the wedges to split the logs. 'Where is father?' asked Jan. 'Perhaps he has gone home and forgotten us.' Now Marie had perfect trust in her father. She could not think that he would wilfully desert them. She said to Jan, 'Why do you think that? Surely he is somewhere near and will come for us, no doubt.' So they waited for quite a while. They ate from their little baskets, till the berries were all gone. Then they filled them again. And so the time was flying. Before it grew quite dark, the sound of the mallet ceased, and the children began to be frightened. They took their baskets and once more looked for father. The sun had set and evening had come. They called, 'Father, where are you?' but no sound came to answer them. Marie who was older and wiser than Jan, but just as much afraid, would not let him see that tears were so near her eyes. Then she tried to comfort him, by saying, 'Wait a minute, I will climb up in a tree from which I can perhaps see a light. Then we will go towards it.' Up the tree she scrambled. It was so high that she could see from its top in all directions. After a while she saw a light gleaming in the distance. 'Oh, Jan! I see a light! Let's go towards it.' Down she came and they started. Following the light, they came to a tiny little house. It was such a funny little house; they felt of it with their hands, and then they saw that it was made of candy. Jan was delighted. Now he felt that he could have all the candy he wanted. At once he scrambled up on the roof to break some off to throw down to Marie, who was still afraid that some harm might come to them. But Jan was already on the roof and had peeled off some candy, which he had thrown down to her. They went to its little window and peeked in. There they saw an old man and woman sitting by the fire. At first they thought they would knock and ask for something to eat, but Marie was afraid. The moment the candy was broken off, the old woman said, 'What is that? I hear a noise. Surely someone is breaking into our house. See who's there.' The old man went out and saw a little girl under their window. 'What are you doing here? Are you trying to break into our house?' he asked her. 'Oh, no, Grandfather. It is the wind,' said Marie, her childish voice trembling with fear. With this the old man was satisfied, and he went back into the house. The children had eaten enough, and they nestled to sleep in each other's arms, under the window of the house of candy. In the morning Jan climbed up on the roof to get another piece of candy. Again the old woman sent the man out to see what was going on. Marie thought to get rid of the old man once more, but this time, he saw two children. Then he went back to tell the old woman. 'Quick, quick, dear Jan,' called Marie, 'we must run away at once, or something terrible will happen to us,' for she had heard the old woman command the man to catch the children, so that she could roast them for her dinner. Jan leaped down from the roof. Marie snatched his hand and they ran away as fast as they could. Suddenly Jan and Marie came upon a woman in a field of flax. Panting and out of breath, 'Tell us please, mother, where we can hide. A bad old man from the house of candy is trying to catch us. He wants to take us home, so that they can roast us for their dinner, because we have taken a piece of candy from their roof.' The woman in the field was a good fairy and loved all little children. She was determined to help Jan and Marie, so she said, 'Go this way a little distance into the woods. I will see what I can do with the old man.' Then she showed the children the path, along which they ran as fast as their little legs could take them. After a little while, the old man came along, panting and blowing. Seeing the woman in the field, he called out, 'Woman, have you seen two children go by and which way did they go?' The woman pretended that she was deaf, and she answered, 'I am in the flax field pulling up the weeds.' 'Woman, I ask you, if you have seen two children pass this way.' But she continued, 'I shall weed the flax, until it is ripe.' Raising his voice, 'Listen to me', woman, have you seen two children go by here?' 'When we shall have gathered the crop, we shall clean the seeds, and then moisten the flax,' said the woman. This time the man fairly shouted, 'Stupid, don't you understand me? Have you seen two children pass this way?' 'When we have moistened the flax, we shall spread it out in the sun to dry,' she kept on. 'Woman, are you deaf? Have you seen two children pass this way?' 'After the flax is dried, we shall comb and then hackle it.' 'Don't you hear? Have you seen two children?' 'Then when the flax is hackled, we shall bind it on the distaff ready for spinning.' 'I don't care anything about that. Have you seen two children pass by here?' and with each question, he grew more and more angry. 'And after we have spun some fine garters, we will wind the rest of the thread on spools.' 'Tell me, woman, have you seen two children pass this way?' 'When we have wound the thread on spools, we shall then weave some beautiful fine linen.' 'I don't care any thing about the linen. I ask you again, have you seen two children go by here?' 'When we have woven the linen, we shall bleach it. Then we shall cut it out for little shirts, swaddling clothes, skirts, and aprons.' 'Are you deaf?' he yelled. 'Have you seen two children go by?' 'Oh yes, oh yes. What are we going to do with it? Finally we shall make tinder from it. Then the flint, when it strikes will make a tiny spark. The fire of God will not consume it. The fire will become smoke, the smoke wind. That is the end of my story.' 'I did not ask you any thing about that,' thundered the old man. What I want to know, did you see two children pass this way?' 'Children, children? You should have told me that in the first place. Of course I saw them. They went that way, by the path through the fields, down to the brook where the willows are, but you will never catch them, for they flew like hawks.' At this the woman showed the man the opposite side to which she had directed the children. Then the old man recognized that he had been outwitted. He frothed with rage and turned back home. When he had gone, the woman disappeared from the field, and the children reached home in safety. The father was very glad to get them back.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
328,Jack and the Bean-Stalk,"Jamaica, as recorded by Martha Warren Beckwith","Beckwith's informant: Clarence Tathum, Mandeville.","Source (Internet Archive): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 114, p. 149. Source (Sacred Texts): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 114, p. 149.","When he get home, the mother get annoyed and t'row away the bean, so he get dread if the mother beat him. He went away an' sat by the roadside, an' he saw an old lady coming, 'he beg him something, 'he show him a house on a high hill, an' him tol' him de man live up dere is de man rob all him fader riches an' he mus' go to him an' he get somet'ing. An' so he went home back. An' so in de morning, he see one of de bean-tree grow a large tree outside de window, an' 'tretch forth over de giant house; an' he went up till he reach to de giant house. An' when he go, de giant was not at home an' he ax de giant wife to put him up an' give him something to eat. De wife tell him she will give him something to eat, but she can't put him up, for anywhere him put him de giant will find him when him come home. He said to de giant wife him must tek a chance. De wife put him into a barrel. When de giant come home, de giant smelled him. He ax him wife where him get fresh blood. So she told him she have a little somet'ing to make a pudding for him tomorrow. Said 'he mus' bring it. Said no, better to have fresh pudding tomorrow than to have it tonight. After de giant finish his dinner, started to count his money. He fall asleep on de table, an' Jack went down take be bag of money an' went away to his house. He climb on de bean-tree right outside his window an' went home back an' gave his mother the money. Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
670,The Language of Beasts (Beckwith),Jamaica,"Beckwith's informant: Richard Morgan, Santa Cruz Mountains. D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.","Source (Internet Archive): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 121, pp. 154-55. Source (Sacred Texts): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 121, pp. 154-55.","De snake said, 'Do, I beg you carry me go to me fader; but when you go, if me fader give you money, don' you tek it, but ax him to give you de knowledge of every animal.' So de boy tek de snake to his fader. When he go, de snake ax him if he want money. He said, 'No, I wan' to understan' de knowledge of every animal.' De snake tol' him to lie down, an' he spit in his mouth an' tol' him whatever animal dat he hear talk he mus' not tell it to nobody, fo' de day he venture to talk it he shall surely die. De odder Wednesday he went de same place, he saw some pigeon on one tree. De pigeon was cooing, an' de pigeon tell him he mus' come an' dig under de tree an' he will fin' a lot of money. De boy went an' dig, an' he fin' de money. He tek it home to his master. His master deliver all dat money to him, he tek it, settle himself an' married a wife. One evening him an' his wife went for a ride. He was before, de lady was behin'. De horse turn round and whicker to de mare which de lady was riding. De mare answer him an' said, 'I kyan' go wid you; for you, it is two of you, but me, it is four of us. I have to carry meself an' me colt, de missis an' de missis baby in her, so I cannot walk fas' as you.' De man turn roun' an' laugh. De lady said, 'Why de reason let de two animal whicker an' you look pon me an' laugh? Der is somet'ing in dis matter!' She nag her husband to tell her de meaning why mek him laugh. De husband said to her, 'De day dat I tell you, I will surely die. Sen' for a carpenter mek me box an' den I wi' tell you!' De carpenter come mek de box, an' he went an' lie down in it. He got one rooster in his yard. De rooster come near de box an' begin to crow. De missis said, 'Oh, go away! makin' such a noise over yo' master head!' De master said, 'Let de bird stay!' De rooster said to his master, 'Master, you fool to gi' up yo' life fo' de count of woman! Look how much wife I have in de worl', an' de least nonsense all of dem come round me, I begin to peck 'em an' walk away from dem. So, Master, you come out of de box an' tek yo' supple-jack an' go in de house give yo' wife two good lick, an' den you fin' if she would 'noy you again.' De man do so. He got up, he went in de house, he tek de supple-jack an' hit her free lick over de shoulder; an' from dat day de woman never ax him a word again. Return to:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
670,The Language of Beasts (Langcrimson),"Bulgaria, Andrew Lang",NA,"Andrew Lang, The Crimson Fairy Book (London: Longmans, Green, and Company, 1903), pp. 55-61.","The shepherd stood wondering how the poor snake could escape, for the wind was blowing the flames that way, and soon that tree would be burning like the rest. Suddenly the snake cried, 'O shepherd! for the love of heaven save me from this fire!' Then the shepherd stretched his staff out over the flames and the snake wound itself round the staff and up to his hand, and from his hand it crept up his arm, and twined itself about his neck. The shepherd trembled with fright, expecting every instant to be stung to death, and said, 'What an unlucky man I am! Did I rescue you only to be destroyed myself?' But the snake answered, 'Have no fear; only carry me home to my father who is the King of the Snakes.' The shepherd, however, was much too frightened to listen, and said that he could not go away and leave his flock alone; but the snake said, 'You need not be afraid to leave your flock, no evil shall befall them; but make all the haste you can.' So he set off through the wood carrying the snake, and after a time he came to a great gateway, made entirely of snakes intertwined one with another. The shepherd stood still with surprise, but the snake round his neck whistled, and immediately all the arch unwound itself. 'When we are come to my father's house,' said his own snake to him, 'he will reward you with anything you like to ask -- silver, gold, jewels, or whatever on this earth is most precious; but take none of all these things, ask rather to understand the language of beasts. He will refuse it to you a long time, but in the end he will grant it to you.' Soon after that they arrived at the house of the King of the Snakes, who burst into tears of joy at the sight of his daughter, as he had given her up for dead. 'Where have you been all this time?' he asked, directly he could speak, and she told him that she had been caught in a forest fire, and had been rescued from the flames by the shepherd. The King of the Snakes, then turning to the shepherd, said to him, 'What reward will you choose for saving my child?' 'Make me to know the language of beasts,' answered the shepherd, 'that is all I desire.' The king replied, 'Such knowledge would be of no benefit to you, for if I granted it to you and you told any one of it, you would immediately die; ask me rather for whatever else you would most like to possess, and it shall be yours.' But the shepherd answered him, 'Sir, if you wish to reward me for saving your daughter, grant me, I pray you, to know the language of beasts. I desire nothing else'; and he turned as if to depart. Then the king called him back, saying, 'If nothing else will satisfy you, open your mouth.' The man obeyed, and the king spat into it, and said, 'Now spit into my mouth.' The shepherd did as he was told, then the King of the Snakes spat again into the shepherd's mouth. When they had spat into each other's mouths three times, the king said, 'Now you know the language of beasts, go in peace; but, if you value your life, beware lest you tell anyone of it, else you will immediately die.' So the shepherd set out for home, and on his way through the wood he heard and understood all that was said by the birds, and by every living creature. When he got back to his sheep he found the flock grazing peacefully, and as he was very tired he laid himself down by them to rest a little. Hardly had he done so when two ravens flew down and perched on a tree nearby, and began to talk to each other in their own language, 'If that shepherd only knew that there is a vault full of gold and silver beneath where that lamb is lying, what would he not do?' When the shepherd heard these words he went straight to his master and told him, and the master at once took a wagon, and broke open the door of the vault, and they carried off the treasure. But instead of keeping it for himself, the master, who was an honorable man, gave it all up to the shepherd, saying, 'Take it, it is yours. The gods have given it to you.' So the shepherd took the treasure and built himself a house. He married a wife, and they lived in great peace and happiness, and he was acknowledged to be the richest man, not only of his native village, but of all the countryside. He had flocks of sheep, and cattle, and horses without end, as well as beautiful clothes and jewels. One day, just before Christmas, he said to his wife, 'Prepare everything for a great feast, tomorrow we will take things with us to the farm that the shepherds there may make merry.' The wife obeyed, and all was prepared as he desired. Next day they both went to the farm, and in the evening the master said to the shepherds, 'Now come, all of you, eat, drink, and make merry. I will watch the flocks myself tonight in your stead.' Then he went out to spend the night with the flocks. When midnight struck the wolves howled and the dogs barked, and the wolves spoke in their own tongue, saying, 'Shall we come in and work havoc, and you too shall eat flesh?' And the dogs answered in their tongue, 'Come in, and for once we shall have enough to eat.' Now amongst the dogs there was one so old that he had only two teeth left in his head, and he spoke to the wolves, saying, 'So long as I have my two teeth still in my head, I will let no harm be done to my master.' All this the master heard and understood, and as soon as morning dawned he ordered all the dogs to be killed excepting the old dog. The farm servants wondered at this order, and exclaimed, 'But surely, sir, that would be a pity?' The master answered, 'Do as I bid you'; and made ready to return home with his wife, and they mounted their horses, her steed being a mare. As they went on their way, it happened that the husband rode on ahead, while the wife was a little way behind. The husband's horse, seeing this, neighed, and said to the mare, 'Come along, make haste; why are you so slow?' And the mare answered, 'It is very easy for you, you carry only your master, who is a thin man, but I carry my mistress, who is so fat that she weights as much as three.' When the husband heard that he looked back and laughed, which the wife perceiving, she urged on the mare till she caught up with her husband, and asked him why he laughed. 'For nothing at all,' he answered; 'just because it came into my head.' She would not be satisfied with this answer, and urged him more and more to tell her why he had laughed. But he controlled himself and said, 'Let me be, wife; what ails you? I do not know myself why I laughed.' But the more he put her off, the more she tormented him to tell her the cause of his laughter. At length he said to her, 'Know, then, that if I tell it you I shall immediately and surely die.' But even this did not quiet her; she only besought him the more to tell her. Meanwhile they had reached home, and before getting down from his horse the man called for a coffin to be brought; and when it was there he placed it in front of the house, and said to his wife, 'See, I will lay myself down in this coffin, and will then tell you why I laughed, for as soon as I have told you I shall surely die.' So he lay down in the coffin, and while he took a last look around him, his old dog came out from the farm and sat down by him, and whined. When the master saw this, he called to his wife, 'Bring a piece of bread to give to the dog.' The wife brought some bread and threw it to the dog, but he would not look at it. Then the farm cock came and pecked at the bread; but the dog said to it, 'Wretched glutton, you can eat like that when you see that your master is dying?' The cock answered, 'Let him die, if he is so stupid. I have a hundred wives, which I call together when I find a grain of corn, and as soon as they are there I swallow it myself; should one of them dare to be angry, I would give her a lesson with my beak. He has only one wife, and he cannot keep her in order.' As soon as the man understood this, he got up out of the coffin, seized a stick, and called his wife into the room, saying, 'Come, and I will tell you what you so much want to know'; and then he began to beat her with the stick, saying with each blow, 'It is that, wife, it is that!' And in this way he taught her never again to ask why he had laughed.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
500,Tríopla Trúpla,Ireland,"Collector: Noreen Keane Address: Ballydehob, Co. Cork. Informant: Mr. P. Donovan Address: Ballydehob, Co. Cork. The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.","dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Cork >> Béal Átha an Dá Chab, pp. 243-44.","One day she was inside alone, when, who should come into her but a woman, who said she would spin all her linen for her if she could tell her name, but if the woman of the house could not tell the stranger's name she should go away with her the following day. The woman of the house was satisfied and she gave the flax to the stranger, who went off. The same evening the man of the house was taking his horses to the well, for a drink. He heard some noise in a fort which was near the well. When he looked, what should he see but a woman and she spinning flax at her full best and she humming 'If Mrs. Lazybones knew that Tríopla Trúpla, was my name it is fine she would sleep to night and I finishing the flax for her.' The man opened his mouth in amazement but he did not speak a word or interfere with the work. He went home and the first question he asked his wife was, 'Where is the flax?' The wife confessed that she gave it to a woman who came to the house the previous day, and 'I must go away with her tomorrow if I do not know her name.' He said, 'Tríopla Trúpla is her name, my dear.' The stranger came the following day, and when the woman of the house saw her, she said, 'Welcome, Tríopla Trúpla.' On hearing these words the other woman threw the linen on the floor. She raised her two claws, let an awful scream out of her, and went off like the wind.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
980D,The Stingy Daughter,India,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Cecil Henry Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 125, pp. 345-46.","Once a man went to visit his married daughter: he intended to arrive in time for dinner; so though he passed some edible herbs on the way he did not stop to eat them. When he arrived he was duly welcomed and after some conversation he told his daughter that he must return the same day; she said, 'All right, but wait till it gets hot.' (The father understood this to be a metaphorical way of saying 'Wait till the dinner is cooked.') But the daughter was determined not to cook the rice while her father was there; so they sat talking and when the sun was high the daughter went into the yard and felt the ground with her foot and finding it scorching she said, 'Now father, it is time for you to be going; it has got hot.' Then the old man understood that she was not going to give him his dinner. So he took his stick and got up to go. Now the son-in-law was a great hunter and that day he had killed and brought home a peacock. As he was leaving, the father said, 'My daughter, if your husband ever brings home a peacock, I advise you to cook it with mowah oil cake; that makes it taste very nice.' So directly her father had gone, the woman set to work and cooked the peacock with mowah oil cake; but when her husband and children began to eat it they found it horribly bitter, and she herself tasted it and found it uneatable. Then she told them that her father had made fun of her and made her spoil all the meat. Her husband asked whether she had cooked rice for her father; and when she said 'No,' he said that this was the way in which he had punished her. He had had nothing to eat, and so he had prevented their having any either. She should entertain all visitors and especially her father. So they threw away the meat and had no dinner.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
954,Ali Baba and Kissem,Jamaica,"Beckwith's informant: Alexander Townsend, Flamstead, St. Andrew.","Source (Internet Archive): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 100, pp. 129-30. Source (Sacred Texts): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 100, pp. 129-30.","Ali Baba was the brother of Kissem, but Ali Baba was a poor man and Kissem was a rich man. Ali Baba had two donkeys and an ox, -- all his living. Ali Baba was cutting wood one day, he heard a company of horse coming afar. Took his donkeys and hid them in the bush, hid himself in a tree. Forty men were coming on; the head man came right to the cave where he was. Name of the cave was 'Sesame.' This cave was shut, would open by the word 'Open, Sesame.' And they brought forty bags of gold an' put in. Shut without word. Ali Baba saw them from the tree-top. When gone, Ali Baba came down to the cave, said, 'Open, Sesame, open!' Ali Baba took all the money he could, loaded it on the donkey. Must measure the money, but didn't have any measure. Brother said, 'What Ali Baba got to measure?' Took stuck the measure. Ali Baba measure, measure, measure, measure thousands of dollars. One piece stuck on the bottom. Brother aska; Ali Baba tells all about it, teaches brother, 'Open, Sesame, open.' Next day, Kissem took wagon, oxen, servants, went to the place, said, 'Open, Sesame, open!' When he went inside, cave shut. When he went on, saw all the money, he forgot the word, said, 'Open, kem! Open, wem! Open, rim! Open, sim!' Forgot that word entirely, can't get out. The men came back; 'Open, Sesame, open!' Find Kissem. 'How came you here?' No answer. Cut Kissem up in five pieces, hung them up in the cave. Kissem's wife went to Ali Baba, said, 'Kissem no come here yet!' Ali Baba went next day to the place. 'Open, Sesame, open!' Finds the five pieces, takes them down, gets a cobbler to sew the five pieces up into a body. Robber comes back, finds body gone. Who took away that body, signifies some one knows the place; must find out who that is. Goes about town, finds a cobbler who said he joined five pieces into a body. Cobbler shows the house. He gets jars, puts a robber in each jar; one jar has oil. Takes the jars to Ali Baba, says will he buy oil. Ali Baba says yes. He makes sport for the great governor. Ali Baba had a maid by the name of Margiana, and she was very wittified, -- discovered the whole thing, but she didn't say anything. She danced so well, danced up to the governor to give her something. He put his hand in his pocket to get her something; Margiana get one dagger, killed the governor dead. Margiana got the oil red-hot, poured into all the jars that got men. Ali Baba said, 'Well, Margiana, you saved my life and you shall have my son and as much money as you want, and as much money as will put you in heaven!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
333,Red Riding Hood,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Laois >> Ballyadams, pp. 141-42 .",When she was going through the wood she met a wolf. The wolf asked her where she was going. She told him she was going to her granny who was ll. When the wolf heard the news he ran on before her and got into her granny's cottage and killed her. Then he got into the bed and put the granny's glasses on his eyes. Then he got her nightgown and put it on. Next he got her night cap and put it on his head. Then he got into the bed and covered himself up. After a while he heard a knock at the door. The wolf told the little girl to come in. When the little girl came in she wondered how strange looking her granny was. Before she had said the words the wolf leaped out of the bed. Then the little girl began to scream. Her father was cutting timber in the wood. When he heard the noise he ran in and killed the wolf. When he had the wolf killed the little girl's granny jumped out of the wolf's stomach again.,Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
333,Red Ridinghood,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Galway >> Caisleán hAicéid, pp. 129-30.","Once upon a time there lived a little girl called Red Ridinghood. Her grandmother was sick and her mother sent her with some food to her, and she told her not to speak to anyone on her way. She went along however, and it was not long until she met a wolf. He asked her where she was going, and she said that she was going to see her grandmother who was sick. The wolf said, 'All right' and went away. He ran as quickly as he could, and he reached the house before her, and he went into the room and ate the grandmother. He then put on her hat and coat and went into the bed. When Red Ridinghood arrived she knocked at the door, and the wolf said, 'Lift the catch and walk in.' She did so and went into the room. When she saw the wolf inside she thought it was her grandmother, but she thought she had very big eyes and mouth. 'Grandma what great big eyes you have,' she said. 'Just for to see you, my dear,' said the wolf. 'Grandma, what great ears you have.' 'Just for to hear my dear.' 'Grandma what great big mouth you have.' 'Just for to eat you my dear,' and he jumped out of the bed and ate her. I got this story from Thomas Burke, Cluide, Corrandulla, Co. Galway. Aged 43 years. Annie O'Dowde",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
333,The Little Girl and Her Grandmother,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Clare >> Effernan, Cill an Dísirt, pp. 171-72.","When the little girl came to her grandmother's house she went into the kitchen. There was nobody there before her. Then she went into the room, and the wolf was inside in bed before her. She thought it was her grandmother, and she began talking to the wolf and she said to the wolf, 'Isn't it great big ears you've got,' and after a awhile she spoke again. She said, 'Isn't it great big hands you've got.' And then she said to the wolf again, 'Isn't it a great big mouth you'e got,' and then the wolf sprang, and he was going to eat the little girl, and the little girl began roaring, and there were men cutting wood in the wood, and they heard the roaring, and one of them ran to the house and cut off the wolf's head. The little girl escaped.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
333,The Old Man and the Wolf,Romania,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Heinrich von Wlislocki, 'Der alte Mann und der Wolf,' Märchen und Sagen der transsilvanischen Zigeuner (Berlin: Nicolaische Verlags-Buchhandlung, 1886), no. 58, pp. 130-31. Source (Internet Archive): Heinrich von Wlislocki, 'Der alte Mann und der Wolf,' Märchen und Sagen der transsilvanischen Zigeuner (Berlin: Nicolaische Verlags-Buchhandlung, 1886), no. 58, pp. 130-31.","In a small hut far up in the mountains there lived an old man with four small children. They were his grandchildren. He loved them very much and took good care of them. Whenever he went into the village to buy food he would say to his grandchildren, 'Dear little children! If anyone comes to the door do not let them inside. Some day the wolf might come by, and he would eat you up!' Once he went into the village, and the wolf did come to the door and called out, 'Dear children, open the door for me!' The children thought about their grandfather's warning not to open the door, and they said nothing. Then the wolf said, 'Open up! Your grandfather sent me!' Then the oldest child said, 'Why did grandfather send you?' The wolf answered, 'He sent a sweet cake for you!' The children could no longer resist. They opened the door. The wolf sprang inside and ate up all four of the children. He looked around in the room to see if he might find something else to eat. He found a large bottle filled with brandy. He put the bottle to his mouth and drank it empty. He became so drunk that he could not move from the spot and had to lie down in the hut. Toward evening the grandfather returned home and saw the snoring wolf lying on the floor in the middle of the room. At once he knew what had happened to his grandchildren. He took a sharp knife and slit open the wolf's belly. The children jumped out, and the grandfather hid them. Then the grandfather took some dry lime, filled the wolf's belly with it, and then sewed the opening shut. When the wolf woke up he was thirsty and ran to the brook, where he drank a lot of water. The lime in his belly began to boil and to burn. The wolf burst apart and died a miserable death.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,Benedict,France (Lorraine),NA,"Source (books.google.com): E. K. Blümml, 'Bénédicité,' Schnurren und Schwänke des französischen Bauernvolkes (Leipzig: Deutsche Verlagsactiengesellschaft, 1906), no. 60, pp. 176-79. Source (Internet Archive): E. K. Blümml, 'Bénédicité,' Schnurren und Schwänke des französischen Bauernvolkes (Leipzig: Deutsche Verlagsactiengesellschaft, 1906), no. 60, pp. 176-79.","Once there lived poor people who had a son named Benedict. He was eighteen years old, but he had not yet gotten out of bed. One day his father said to him: 'Benedict, get up. It's finally time you think about work.' Benedict got up and hired himself out as a servant to a nearby farmer. As wages he agreed to a load of grain, which he was to receive at the end of one year. He further demanded that he never would have to get up before five o'clock, and that he could eat as much as he wanted. The farmer agreed to these conditions. The next morning, everyone in the house had to get up at two o'clock to bring oak trees from the forest. The master also called Benedict, but he pretended to be deaf, and he got up not a minute earlier or later than the time agreed to. The farmer's wife called Benedict to eat his soup and presented him with a large pot full of soup. 'What?' cried Benedict. 'Is that all? I need a tub of soup and four loaves of bread.' The farmer's wife cried out, but her husband had promised the servant that he could eat until he was no longer hungry, so she had to serve him whatever he wanted. After Benedict had eaten, the farmer ordered him to get the five best horses out of the stable, hitch them to a big wagon, and go to the forest to look for the other servants. Benedict took the best horses and rode into the forest, but he didn't bother to look for the others. He took four oak logs, put them on his wagon, and wanted to go home, but the horses were unable to move the wagon. 'What? You don't want to pull!' cried Benedict. He loaded another oak log and then another, and then lashed out at the team. But shouting and hitting didn't help. The horses wouldn't move. He unhitched them, loaded them onto the wagon and pulled it himself to the farmhouse. The other servants, who had already gone out before Benedict, came home long after him, because they were stopped by a mighty cliff. The farmer was frightened that such a strong man was in his service. He sent Benedict to cut down a ten-acre forest. He was to be finished before evening, otherwise he would be thrown out. Benedict went into the forest and sat down at the foot of a tree. Around noon when a maid brought him his tub of soup, she found him asleep. 'What? Haven't you started work yet?' she asked him. 'Mind the kitchen, but not me,' he answered her. When she brought him his afternoon snack he still hadn't started, but before evening the whole forest was cut down, and Benedict had returned home. His master couldn't help but be amazed. The next day he ordered Benedict to spend the night in a mill that was haunted by ghosts, and from which no one had returned. Benedict went to the mill in the evening and made himself at home in its kitchen. At midnight he heard the rattling of chains. A devil was just coming down the chimney. 'What do you want here?' asked Benedict. Without waiting for an answer, he killed the devil. The next morning he returned to the farmhouse. Not knowing how to get rid of Benedict, the master sent him with a letter to his son, who was the captain of Besançon. It was thirty miles away. Benedict took a horse, carried it on his shoulders for fifteen miles, then mounted it and rode the remaining fifteen miles. Arriving in Besançon, he handed the farmer's letter to the captain. The letter said that the bearer should be given a warm welcome, that he should be given as much food as he wanted, but that he should be killed when the opportunity arose. One day, as Benedict was taking a walk, the captain shot at him. But Benedict just shook himself and calmly continued on his way. 'How are you, Benedict?' asked the captain. 'Quite well, except for the flies. They bother me, but they're not dangerous.' The captain then had cannonballs fired at him, but with the same effect. Tired of the fight, he sent him back to the farmer. The farmer now ordered Benedict to clean out a well five hundred feet deep, which had been buried for five hundred years. Benedict was soon done with that. While he was still in the well, a thousand-pound millstone was thrown down on him to kill him. The millstone had a hole in the middle, and it fell on his shoulders, forming a kind of collar. However, Benedict did not feel it in the slightest. A bell weighing twenty thousand pounds was then thrown down, and it fell on his head. Everyone thought he was dead, but soon he came up from the bottom of the well, tore the bell from his head and said: 'Here is my nightcap, do not soil it for me.' Then he took down the millstone and cried: 'This is my collar, I must save it for next Sunday. But, dear sir, the one year is over, isn't it?' 'Yes,' replied the farmer. 'Then give me my load of grain.' They gave him two sacks full. 'What do you mean?' cried Benedict. 'I can carry more.' Another eight sacks were brought. 'I'll carry that with my little finger.' Thirty-two sacks were brought. 'That's just for two fingers.' The farmer now explained to him that he could not give him more than a hundred sacks. Satisfied with this, Benedict loaded up the sacks and returned to his parents.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,Fourteen,Basque,The episode of the hero carrying Christ across a river is similar to the famous Saint Christopher legend (type 768). The episode describing the magic sack and its use in tricking one's way into heaven is a type 330 folktale.,"Wentworth Webster, Basque Legends (London: Griffith and Farran, 1879), pp. 195-99.","Like many others in the world, there was a mother and her son. The lad was as strong as fourteen men together, but he was also obliged to eat as much as fourteen men. They were poor, and on that account he often suffered from hunger. He said one day to his mother, that it would be better for him to try and go somewhere else to see if he could be any better off; that he could not bear it any longer like this; that he was pained to see how much it cost her to feed him. The mother with regret allows him to depart. He goes off then far, far, far away, and comes to a large house. He asks if they want a servant there, and they answer that they will speak to the master. The master himself comes and says to him, 'I employ experienced laborers generally, but I will take you nevertheless.' The lad answers, 'I must forewarn you, that I eat as much as fourteen men, but I do work in proportion.' He asks him, 'What do you know how to do?' He says to him, 'I know a little of everything.' The next day the master takes him into a field, and says to him, 'You must mow all this meadow.' He says to him, 'Yes.' The master goes away. At eight o'clock the servant comes with the breakfast. She had a basket full of provisions; there were six loaves, half a ham, and six bottles of wine. Our lad was delighted. The servant was astonished to see that all the meadow was mown, and she goes and tells it to the master. He too was pleased to see that he had such a valuable servant. He tells him to go and cut another meadow. Before midday he had it all down. The servant comes with the dinner, and was astonished to see how much work he had done. She brought him seven loaves, seven bottles of wine, and ever so much ham, but he cleared it all off. The master gives him again another field of grass to cut. Before night he had done it easily. Our master was delighted at it, and gave him plenty to eat. The servant too was highly pleased. As long as he had work the master said nothing, but afterwards, when he saw that all the harvest served only for the servant to eat, he did not know how to get rid of him. He sends him to a forest in which he knew that there were terrible beasts, and told him to bring wood from there. As soon as he has arrived a bear attacks him. He takes him by the nostrils and throws him on the ground, and twists his neck. He keeps pulling up all the young trees, and again a wolf attacks him; he takes him like the bear by the nostrils, throws him down, and twists his neck. In the evening he arrives at the house, and the master is astonished to see him return. He gave him a good supper; but he was not pleased, because he had torn up all the young trees. At night the master turns over in his head what he could do with his servant, and he determines to send him into a still more terrible forest, in the hope that some animal will devour him. Our lad goes off again. He tears up many large trees, when a lion attacks him. He kills him in a moment. There comes against him another terrible animal, and he finishes him off too. In the evening, when he comes home, he said to himself, 'Why does my master send me into the forest? Perhaps he is tired of me.' And he resolves to tell him that he will leave the house. When he arrives his master receives him well, but cannot understand how it is that he comes back. He gives him a good supper, and our lad says to him, 'It is better for me to go off somewhere. There is no more work for me here.' You may reckon how pleased the master was. He gives him his wages at once, and he goes away. He goes off, far, far, far away; but soon his money is exhausted, and he does not know what is to become of him. He sees two men standing on the bank of a river. He went up to them, and the men ask him if he will cross them over to the other side of the water. He answers, 'Yes,' and takes them both at once on his back; and these men were our Lord and St. Peter. Our Lord says to him in the middle of the stream, 'I am heavy.' 'I will throw you into the water if you do not keep quiet, for I have quite enough to do.' When they had come to the other side, the Lord said to him, 'What must I give you as a reward?' 'Whatever you like; only give it quickly, for I am very hungry.' He gives him a sack, and says to him, 'Whatever you wish for will come into this sack.' And he goes off, far away. He comes to a town, and passing before a baker's shop he smells an odor of very good hot loaves, and he says to them, 'Get into my sack,' and his sack is quite full of them. He goes off to a corner of a forest, and there he lives by his sack. He returns again into the town, and passes before a pork butcher's. There were there black puddings, sausages, hams, and plenty of good things. He says, 'Come into my sack,' and as soon as he has said it the sack is full. He goes again to empty it as he had done with the loaves, and he returns into the town. In front of an inn he says, 'Come into my sack.' There were there bottles of good wine and of liqueurs, and to all these good things he says, 'Come into my sack,' and his sack was filled. He goes off to his corner of the forest, and there he had provision for some days; and, when he had well stuffed himself, he went out for a walk. One day he saw some young girls weeping, and he asks them, 'What is the matter with you?' They answer that their father is very ill. He asks if he can see him. They tell him, 'Yes.' He goes there then, and the poor man tells him how he has given his soul to the devil, and that he was expecting him that very day, and he was trembling even then. Our Fourteen asks if he will let him be on a corner of the bed, that he might see the devil. He tells him, 'Yes.' He then hides himself with his sack. A moment after the devil arrives, and our lad says to him, 'Come into my sack.' And as soon as he had said it, in goes the devil. Judge of the joy of our man! Our lad goes off to some stonebreakers, and says to them, 'Hit hard! the devil is in this sack.' They went at it, blow upon blow, stroke upon stroke, and the devil went, 'Ay! ay! ay! Let me out! Let me go! Ay! ay! ay!' The lad said, 'You shall bring me, then, a paper, signed by all the devils of hell, that you have no rights over this man.' The devil agrees, and he lets him go. In a moment he comes back with the paper, and the lad makes him go into the sack again, and has him beaten by the stonebreakers, while he carries the precious paper to the former man; and think how happy they were in that house! Our man goes off, walking, walking, on, and on, and always on, and he grew tired of this world. He said to himself, ' I should like to go to heaven.' He goes on, and on, and on, but he comes to hell; but as soon as ever the devils saw that it was Fourteen they shut all the gates. He goes off again, far, far, very far, and comes to heaven. There the gates are shut against him. What does Fourteen do? He put his sack in through the keyhole, and says to himself, 'Go into the sack.' As soon as he has said it he finds himself inside, and he is there still behind the door; and when you go to heaven, look about well, and you will see him there.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,Strong Jack,Wales (Romani),Romani informant: Noah Lock.,"Source (Internet Archive): Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society, new series, vol. 8 (1914-1915), pp. 213-16.","The' was wonst an owld woman what had only but one son, an' his name was Jack. An' she kept him in bed till he was twenty-one years of age. Whatsumever, about a month afoare, she sent for the tailor, an' had him measured for a suit o' clothes. On the day when he is twenty-one his owld mother calls Jack early, an' tells him he is to get up, which he does. He finds a new suit o' clothes put ready for him, so he dresses hisself, an' a'ter when he has dressed he has a good look at hisself in the glass. He looks fine, he thinks. Of course he'd never had a suit o' clothes on in his life afoare. Then he goes downstairs, an' has his breakfast wid his owld mother. An' when he thinks of hisself sat up to the table wid his mother he can't help but laugh: it seems so funny to him what has never been out 'n bed afoare. Now a'ter when they'd finished breakfast his owld mother says to him: 'Jack,' she says, 'I wants you now to go to the farm over there, an' bring me some straw for the pig to lie on. 'The farmer,' she says, 'has gi'ed me leave to get some.' 'Right,' says Jack. 'I'll go, mother. But, mother,' he axes, 'what rope shall I take?' 'Oh! I got only but one rope,' she tells him. 'Well, where is it?' he axes. 'Hanging up in the kitchen,' she says. So Jack goes an' gets the rope -- a t'emendous big thick rope it was, as thick as my arm -- an' then off he sets to the farm. Whatever to you, on the road he meets wid the farmer hisself. 'Hello! my lad, ' says the farmer. 'Where may you be come from?' 'Out 'n bed,' Jack tells him. 'My mother,' he says, 'has kept me in bed for twenty-one years, an' I'm only just now got up. An' being as she has done so much for me,' he says, 'I wants to be a help to her now, so I was just a-going,' he says, 'to fatch her that straw for the pig, what you gi'ed her the promise on.' 'Very good, my lad,' says the farmer, 'you can go an' get as much as ever you can carry.' Jack thanks him, an' bids him good morning, an' goes on now till he comes to the stackyard. He takes the rope, an' he throws it round the whole 'n one stack -- an' it wa'n't the littlest neither -- an' he lifts an' he pulls till he gets the stack fair an' square onto his back. Then he goes off home wid it, an' when he gets it there he sets it down in the front garden. 'There, mother.' he says, 'that'll last you a long while, I'll lay it will.' An' a'ter when he has done this he goes off into the back garden to dig her up a few 'tatoes. So whatever to you, the farmer soon comes to the owld woman's cottage to see what's gotten his stack, an' there he finds it in front 'n the house in the front garden. 'Morning, missis,' he says. 'Is that son o' yours at home?' 'Yes,' she tells him. 'He's in the back garden digging up a few 'tatoes for the dinner.' 'I'll just go an' have a word wid him,' says the farmer. 'Well aye,' she says, 'do.' So the farmer goes through into the back garden. 'Hello! young fellow,' he says. 'What the hangment do you mean by taking the whole 'n one o' my stacks?' 'Well,' says Jack, 'you said as I was to have as much straw as ever I could carry, didn't you? That's all I've ta'en, master. An' besides,' he says, 'it'll be a good thing for my poor owld mother, for it'll last her a long time.' 'I da'say it will,' says the farmer. 'But never mind, we'll say no moare about it.' Now the farmer gets a-gate talking wid Jack, an' a'ter a bit he axes him what work he can do 'Oh, annythink,' says Jack, 'as I knows how to.' 'An' you wants work, Jack?' he axes. 'Yes,' says Jack, an' he was very pleased at the thoughts o' getting a job. 'I'd be glad of anny work,' he says, 'for now I wants to keep my owld mother, being as she has kept me for twenty-one years.' 'Do you think you could manage to carry water?' the farmer axes him. 'Yes,' says Jack, 'I could do that first class.' 'Very well then, my lad,' says the farmer. 'Come to my house tomorrow morning early: it's washing day.' 'Right you are,' says Jack. 'I'll be there.' Next morning, when Jack goes, the farmer gi'es him two buckets an' tells him to go across the field -- a very big field it was -- to the well, an' fatch enough water to fill the boiler for washing. Away Jack goes, an' he fatches two bucketfuls, an' pours 'em into the boiler, an' then he fatches two moare, an' two moare agen; an' he goes on this way, aye for three or four hours, an' yet he can't see the boiler getting not the leastest little bit fuller. 'Dang it,' he says. 'I will fill it.' So whatever should he do now, but the' is a big barrel -- a t'emendous big cask -- stood close by to the boiler; well, he gets this, an' puts it onto his back, an' then off he goes to the well agen wid this big barrel on his back, an' the two buckets in his hands. He fills this barrel, an' the two buckets, an' brings the three 'n they, an' empties the lot into the boiler. He does this two or three times moare, an' then the farmer comes to see how he's getting on. 'Stop, Jack,' he says. 'That 'll do. You've fatched too much.' Whatsumever to you, as Jack was going home that night from the farmer's who should he meet wid but a sowldier. 'Hello! my fine fellow,' the sowldier calls out to him. 'Are you looking for work?' 'Yes,' Jack tells him. 'My mother,' he says, ' has kept me in bed for twenty-one years, an' now I wants to earn a bit o' money to keep her.' 'Well, what can you do?' the sowldier axes him. 'Oh! annythink,' says Jack, 'as I knows how to.' 'Will you 'list?' says the sowldier. 'Yes,' says Jack. So Jack 'lists, an' they puts him in a cavalry rigiment. Now it wa'n't above a month a'ter Jack had 'listed but what a big war breaks out, an' of course he is sent to the front. Soon he's right in the thick 'n it. He shoots down scoares an' scoares 'n the enemy till his ammonition is all used up, an' then he lays about him wid the butt end 'n his rifle, an' kills scoares and scoares more that way. At last poor Jack's horse was shot down from under him. But that wa'n't the end -- oh! no. What does he do but catch howld 'n his horse by the tail, an' walk right into the middle 'n the enemy, swinging it round an' round his head, an' i' that way he wiped out 'most all the lot 'n the tother side. Now a'ter when the war is over, an' Jack comes back home agen, the king gi'es him his own da'ghter for winning the battle for him. So Jack gets married to her, an' they goes to live in a grand palace, an' they lives happy together ever a'ter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,The Bear's Son,Serbia,"The conclusion of this tale, involving many contradictions and extremes, is classified as a folktale of type 2014.","Csedomille Mijatovies, Serbian Folk-Lore, edited by W. Denton (London: W. Isbister and Company, 1874), pp. 24-31.","Once upon a time a bear married a woman, and they had one son. When the boy was yet a little fellow he begged very hard to be allowed to leave the bear's cave, and to go out into the world to see what was in it. His father, however, the bear, would not consent to this, saying, 'You are too young yet, and not strong enough. In the world there are multitudes of wicked beasts, called men, who will kill you.' So the boy was quieted for a while, and remained in the cave. But, after some time, the boy prayed so earnestly that the bear, his father, would let him go into the world, that the bear brought him into the wood, and showed him a beech tree, saying, 'If you can pull up that beech by the roots, I will let you go; but if you cannot, then this is a proof that you are still too weak, and must remain with me.' The boy tried to pull up the tree, but, after long trying, had to give it up, and go home again to the cave. Again some time passed, and he then begged again to be allowed to go into the world, and his father told him, as before, if he could pull up the beech tree he might go out into the world. This time the boy pulled up the tree, so the bear consented to let him go, first, however, making him cut away the branches from the beech, so that he might use the trunk for a club. The boy now started on his journey, carrying the trunk of the beech over his shoulder. One day as the bear's son was journeying, he came to a field where he found hundreds of plowmen working for their master. He asked them to give him something to eat, and they told him to wait a bit till their dinner was brought them, when he should have some -- for, they said, 'Where so many are dining one mouth more or less matters but little.' Whilst they were speaking there came carts, horses, mules, and asses, all carrying the dinner. But when the meats were spread out the bear's son declared he could eat all that up himself. The workmen wondered greatly at his words, not believing it possible that one man could consume as great a quantity of victuals as would satisfy several hundred men. This, however, the bear's son persisted in affirming he could do, and offered to bet with them that he would do this. He proposed that the stakes should be all the iron of their plowshares and other agricultural implements. To this they assented. No sooner had they made the wager than he fell upon the provisions, and in a short time consumed the whole. Not a fragment was left. Hereupon the laborers, in accordance with their wager, gave him all the iron which they possessed. When the bear's son had collected all the iron, he tore up a young birch tree, twisted it into a band and tied up the iron into a bundle, which he hung at the end of his staff, and throwing it across his shoulder, trudged off from the astonished and affrighted laborers. Going on a short distance, he arrived at a forge in which a smith was employed making a plowshare. This man he requested to make him a mace with the iron which he was carrying. This, the smith undertook to do; but putting aside half the iron, he made of the rest a small, coarsely finished mace. Bear's son saw at a glance that he had been cheated by the smith. Moreover, he was disgusted at the roughness of the workmanship. He however took it, and declared his intention of testing it. Then fastening it to the end of his club and throwing it into the air high above the clouds he stood still and allowed it to fall on his shoulder. It had no sooner struck him than the mace shivered into fragments, some of which fell on and destroyed the forge. Taking up his staff, bear's son reproached the smith for his dishonesty, and killed him on the spot. Having collected the whole of the iron, the bear's son went to another smithy, and desired the smith whom he found there to make him a mace, saying to him, 'Please play no tricks on me. I bring you these fragments of iron for you to use in making a mace. Beware that you do not attempt to cheat me as I was cheated before!' As the smith had heard what had happened to the other one, he collected his work-people, threw all the iron on his fire, and welded the whole together and made a large mace of perfect workmanship. When it was fastened on the head of his club the bear's son, to prove it, threw it up high, and caught it on his back. This time the mace did not break, but rebounded. Then the bear's son got up and said, 'This work is well done!' and, putting it on his shoulder, walked away. A little farther on he came to a field wherein a man was plowing with two oxen, and he went up to him and asked for something to eat. The man said, 'I expect every moment my daughter to come with my dinner, then we shall see what God has given us!' The bear's son told him how he had eaten up all the dinner prepared for many hundreds of plowmen, and asked, 'From a dinner prepared for one person how much can come to me or to you?' Meanwhile the girl brought the dinner. The moment she put it down, bear's son stretched out his hand to begin to eat, but the man stopped him. 'No!' said he, 'you must first say grace, as I do!' The bear's son, hungry as he was, obeyed, and, having said grace, they both began to eat. The bear's son, looking at the girl who brought the dinner (she was a tall, strong, beautiful girl), became very fond of her, and said to the father, 'Will you give me your daughter for a wife?' The man answered, 'I would give her to you very gladly but I have promised her already to the Moustached.' The bear's son exclaimed, 'What do I care for Moustachio? I have my mace for him!' But the man answered, 'Hush! hush! Moustachio is also somebody! You will see him here soon.' Shortly after a noise was heard afar off, and lo! behind a hill a moustache showed itself, and in it were three hundred and sixty-five bird's nests. Shortly after appeared the other moustache, and then came Moustachio himself. Having reached them, he lay down on the ground immediately, to rest. He put his head on the girl's knee and told her to scratch his head a little. The girl obeyed him, and the bear's son, getting up, struck him with his club over the head. Whereupon Moustachio, pointing to the place with his finger, said,' Something bit me here!' The bear's son struck with his mace on another spot, and Moustachio again pointed to the place, saying to the girl, 'Something has bitten me here!' When he was struck a third time, he said to the girl angrily, 'Look you! Something bites me here!' Then the girl said, 'Nothing has bitten you; a man struck you!' When Moustachio heard that he jumped up, but bear's son had thrown away his mace and ran away. Moustachio pursued him, and though the bear's son was lighter than he, and had gotten the start of him a considerable distance, he would not give up pursuing him. At length the bear's son, in the course of his flight, came to a wide river, and found, near it, some men threshing corn. 'Help me, my brothers, help -- for God's sake!' he cried; 'Help! Moustachio is pursuing me! What shall I do? How can I get across the river?' One of the men stretched out his shovel, saying, 'Here! Sit down on it, and I will throw you over the river!' The bear's son sat on the shovel, and the man threw him over the water to the other shore. Soon after Moustachio came up, and asked, 'Has any one passed here?' The threshers replied that a man had passed. Moustachio demanded, 'How did he cross the river?' They answered, 'He sprang over.' Then Moustachio went back a little to take a start, and with a hop he sprang to the other side, and continued to pursue the bear's son. Meanwhile this last, running hastily up a hill, got very tired. At the top of the hill he found a man sowing, and the sack with seeds was hanging on his neck. After every handful of seed sown in the ground, the man put a handful in his mouth and eat them. The bear's son shouted to him, 'Help, brother, help! -- for God's sake! Moustachio is following me, and will soon catch me! Hide me somewhere!' Then the man said, 'Indeed, it is no joke to have Moustachio pursuing you. But I have nowhere to hide you, unless in this sack among the seeds.' So he put him in the sack. When Moustachio came up to the sower he asked him it he had seen the bear's son anywhere? The man replied, 'Yes, he passed by long ago, and God knows where he has got before this!' Then Moustachio went back again. By-and-by the sower forgot that bear's son was in his sack, and he took him out with a handful of seeds, and put him in his mouth. Then bear's son was afraid of being swallowed, so he looked round the mouth quickly, and, seeing a hollow tooth, hid himself in it. When the sower returned home in the evening, he called to his sisters-in-law, 'Children, give me my toothpick! There is something in my broken tooth.' The sisters-in-law brought him two iron picks, and, standing one on each side, they poked about with the two picks in his tooth till the bear's son jumped out. Then the man remembered him, and said, 'What bad luck you have! I had very nearly swallowed you.' After they had taken supper they talked about many different things, till at last the bear's son asked what had happened to break that one tooth, whilst the others were all strong and healthy. Then the man told me in these words: Once on a time ten of us started with thirty horses to the sea-shore to buy some salt. We found a girl in a field watching sheep, and she asked us where we were going. We said we were going to the sea-shore to buy salt. She said, 'Why go so far? I have in the bag in my hand here some salt which remained over after feeding the sheep. I think it will be enough for you.' So we settled about the price, and then she took the salt from her bag, whilst we took the sacks from the thirty horses, and we weighed the salt and filled the sacks with it till all the thirty sacks were full. We then paid the girl, and returned home. It was a very fine autumn day; but as we were crossing a high mountain, the sky became very cloudy and it began to snow, and there was a cold north wind, so we could not see our path and wandered about here and there. At last, by good luck, one of us shouted, 'Here, brothers! Here is a dry place!' So we went in one after the other till we were all, with the thirty horses, under shelter. Then we took the sacks from the horses, made a good fire, and passed the night there as if it were a house. Next morning, just think what we saw! We were all in one man's head, which lay in the midst of some vineyards; and whilst we were yet wondering and loading our horses, the keeper of the vineyards came and picked the head up. He put it in a sling and slinging it about several times, threw it over his head, and cast it far away over the vines to frighten the starlings away from his grapes. So we rolled down a hill, and it was then that I broke my tooth.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,The Dwarf Who Grew Up,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Galway >> Corr an Droma, pp. 403-405.","There was once a little boy who was growing old, but he was not growing up. When he was four years he could go into a thimble, and when he was six he was no bigger than a daisy. His poor parents did not know what to do with him. They used to say, 'Poor Tom Thumb.' At last a kind giant who lived a long way off got to hear of Tom Thumb. The giant was so tall that he hid the light of the sun, and whenever he passed by, the people thought the night had come. The big giant said 'Come along Tom, you will soon be as big as your father.' He caught poor Tom up, put him sitting on his ear and carried him off. Tom stayed with the giant for twelve years and lived on giant's food. By this time he was as big as his father but by far stronger. The giant's food had given him a giant's strength. 'You may go off now,' said the giant at the end of twelve years. 'You are as big as your father and as strong as myself. You may go off now and seek your fortune.' Tom's father or mother did not know him when he came back, and he did not tell them who he was. The two old people were living together in a tiny little house, and they were as poor as could be. Their farm had been taken from them by a cruel blacksmith. When Tom Thumb heard this he went to the blacksmith and asked for work. 'What wages do you want?' said the smith. 'I want no wages at all,' said Tom. 'All I want is that you let me give you a few taps on the shoulder every evening.' 'You can do that,' said the smith. So Tom started to work. The first blow he struck broke the anvil into many pieces, and the second knocked the roof off the forge. 'Stop,' said the smith, 'you'll work here no longer.' 'I'll have my day's wages then,' said Tom. He struck the blacksmith a blow on the shoulder and put him over a cock of hay. 'That's one half of my wages paid,' said Tom. 'Shall I take the other half?' 'Don't strike me again,' said the smith. I'll give you anything you ask if you leave me alone,' said the smith. 'All right,' said Tom Thumb. 'Give me my father's farm and a purse of gold.' Tom got the gold and build a big house for his father and mother. They lived comfortably again as long as they lived. Informant: Máire Ní Chuinneagáin Age: 21. Occupation: Domestic worker. Address: Kilgill, Co. Galway.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,The Hairy Boy,Switzerland,NA,"Otto Sutermeister, 'Der Haarige,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus der Schweiz, 2nd edition (Aarau: H. R. Sauerländer, 1873), no. 52, pp. 160-63.","Once upon a time a king was out hunting when he came upon a hollow tree that his dogs would not pass by. They barked and jumped about and could not be brought to move on. Taking a closer look, the king discovered a beautiful maiden sitting in the hollow trunk. She was entirely naked and looked at him with terror. He threw his coat over her, and whistled to his servants. They came immediately, and he showed them the maiden, saying, 'See what a beautiful animal I have captured!' Then he whistled again, and his coach came. He placed the maiden inside, rode home with her to his castle, and married her. The old queen, the king's mother, still lived in the castle, and she did not like the young queen and did everything to make her life miserable. With time the king had to go off to war, and while he was away his wife gave birth to a son. The old queen cooked up a brew and gave it to the newborn, which caused hair to grow all over his body. Then the wicked old woman wrote to the king, 'Your wife has given birth to a hairy animal. We do not know whether it is a dog or a cat.' This news greatly angered the king, and he commanded that the newborn be tied to his wife's back, and that they both be driven away. Thus the young queen and her hairy son were put out of the castle, and she returned to the hollow tree where the king had first seen her. She lived there as before. However, life in the woods was so good for the hairy boy that he grew a foot every day, and soon there was not enough room in the hollow tree. One day he went out and pulled up a bundle of large fir trees. He broke them over his knee and built a comfortable cabin for himself and his mother. Soon afterward he said to his mother, 'Now tell me once and for all, who is my father?' 'Alas,' answered the mother, 'your father is the king, but you will never see him as long as you live.' 'But I want to see him right now!' said the hairy boy, and he ripped a fir tree out of the ground, roots and all. He set forth carrying it, and did not rest until he had found the royal castle. The king had just sat down to eat and had a great quantity of expensive food before him. The hairy boy acted as if he were right at home, walked up to the king and said to him, 'I am here too. I am your son, and I want to eat at your table with you.' The king was terrified and wanted to stop him, but the hairy boy continued without hindrance, reaching his hairy hands into the king's plates and dishes. No one dared say a thing, for the king's people were all terrified and stood by helplessly. After the hairy boy had eaten every last morsel from the table, he said to the king, 'I am going now, but I will be back tomorrow.' 'Wait,' thought the king, 'I'll see that you do not come back.' He quickly summoned five hundred soldiers, and placed them immediately before the castle with the command to shoot at the hairy boy on sight. The next day when the hairy boy returned carrying his fir tree the soldiers all fired at him. But the hairy boy calmly plucked the bullets from his body and threw them, fifty at a time, back at the soldiers, until he had killed them all. He entered the castle just as the king was again sitting down to eat. The hairy boy said to him, 'But father, what are you up to? Your soldiers are all lying dead outside, struck down by their own bullets. I am your son, and I want to eat at your table with you.' And once again he reached his hairy hands into the king's plates and dishes, and did not stop eating until every last morsel had disappeared from the table. 'I am going now,' he said at last, 'but I will be back tomorrow, and I am bringing my mother along.' 'Stop!' thought the king, 'That you will not do!' He immediately called up ten hundred soldiers and positioned them before the castle, half in the courtyard and half surrounding the castle, commanding them by their very lives to not let the hairy boy inside. The next day the hairy boy returned, leading his mother by her hand. When soldiers shot at him, he placed himself in front of his mother. He again plucked the bullets from his body and threw them back, one hundred at a time, until all the soldiers lay dead on the ground. Then he walked into the castle and approached his father, saying, 'But father, what are you up to again? Your soldiers are all dead as doornails, struck down by their own bullets! Go and see for yourself!' Then he took him by the hand and threw him into the courtyard below. He took him by the hand a second time and threw him back inside through the window. He threw him to the floor a third time, and the king was dead. The old queen hurried in, and the hairy boy threatened to kill her if she did not treat him well, and she had to promise to rid his body of the ugly hair. Once again she cooked up a brew, and it removed the hair from his body and hands. From this hour on he had no more power than ordinary people. But the kingdom was now his, and he ruled with his mother in peace and splendor.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,The Story of Carancal,Philippines,"Fansler's source: José P. Caedo, a Tagalog from Batangas, Batangas. The episodes featuring Carancal's three strong friends fit into a cycle of tales classified as type 513 (The Extraordinary Companions). The episode describing the burning of the giant is classified as a type 8 folktale (False Beauty Treatment).","Dean S. Fansler, Filipino Popular Tales (Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1921), no. 3, pp. 17-23.","Once upon a time there lived a couple who had long been married, but had no child. Every Sunday they went to church and begged God to give them a son. They even asked the witches in their town why God would not give them a child. The witches told them that they would have one after a year, but that when born he would be no longer than a span. Nevertheless the couple gave thanks. After a year a son was born to them. He was very small, as the witches had foretold, but he was stronger than any one would expect such a small child to be. 'It is strange,' said a neighbor. 'Why, he eats more food than his stomach can hold.' The boy grew larger and larger, and the amount of food he ate became greater and greater. When he became four feet tall, his daily requirements were a cavan [about 75 quarts] of rice and twenty-five pounds of meat and fish. 'I can't imagine how so small a person can eat so much food,' said his mother to her husband. 'He is like a grasshopper: he eats all the time.' Carancal, as the boy was called, was very strong and very kind-hearted. He was the leader of the other boys of the town, for he could beat all of them in wrestling. After a few years the family's property had all been sold to buy food for the boy. Day after day they became poorer and poorer, for Carancal's father had no other business but fishing. So one day when Carancal was away playing, the wife said to her husband, 'What shall we do with Carancal? He will make us as poor as rats. It is better for us to tell him to go earn his living, for he is old enough to work.' 'No, it is a shame to send him off,' said the father, 'for we asked God for him. I will take him to the forest and there kill him; and if the neighbors ask how he died, we will say that an accident befell him while cutting trees.' Early the next morning his father led Carancal to the forest, and they began to cut down a very big tree. When the tree was about to fall, Carancal's father ordered the son to stand where the tree inclined; so that when it fell, Carancal was entirely buried. The father immediately went home, thinking that his son had surely been killed; but when he and his wife were talking, Carancal came home with the big tree on his shoulders. 'Father, father, why did you leave me alone in the forest?' said the obedient boy. The father could not move or speak, for shame of himself. He only helped his son unload the heavy burden. The mother could not speak either, for fear Carancal might suspect their bad intentions toward him. Accordingly she and her husband planned another scheme. The next day Carancal was invited by his father to go fishing. They rowed and rowed until they were far out into the blue sea. Then they put their net into the water. 'Carancal, dive down and see that our net is sound,' said the father. Carancal obeyed. In about a minute the water became red and began to foam. This made the old man think that his son had been devoured by a big fish, so he rowed homeward. When he reached home, his wife anxiously asked if Carancal was dead; and the husband said, 'Yes.' They then cooked their meal and began to eat. But their supper was not half finished when Carancal came in, carrying a big alligator. He again asked his father why he had left him alone to bring such a big load. The father said, 'I thought you had been killed by a large fish.' Carancal then asked his mother to cook him a cavan of rice, for he was tired from swimming such a long distance. The couple were now discouraged; they could not think of any way by which to get rid of Carancal. At last the impatient woman said, 'Carancal, you had better go out into the world to see what you can do toward earning your own living. You know that we are becoming poorer and poorer....' 'Mother,' interrupted the boy, 'I really did not wish to go away from you; but, now that you drive me as if I were not your son, I cannot stay.' He paused for a moment to wipe the tears from his cheeks. 'You know that I love you; but you, in turn, hate me. What shall I do? I am your son, and so I must not disobey you. But before I depart, father and mother, please give me a bolo [a cutlass-like knife], a big bolo, to protect myself in case of danger.' The parents willingly promised that he should have one. and after two days an enormous bolo five yards long was finished. Carancal took it, kissed the hands of his parents, and then went away with a heavy heart. When he had left his little village behind, he did not know which way to go. He was like a ship without a rudder. He walked and walked until he came to a forest, where he met Bugtongpalasan. [This name literally means, 'only one palasan (a large plant of liana).' The hero was so called because he was the strongest man in his town.] Carancal asked him where he was going; and Bugtongpalasan said, 'I am wandering, but I do not know where to go. I have lost my parents, and they have left me nothing to inherit.' 'Do you want to go with me?' said Carancal. 'Yes,' said Bugtongpalasan. 'Let us wrestle first, and the loser will carry my bolo,' said Carancal as a challenge. They wrestled; and Bugtongpalasan was defeated, so he had to carry the big bolo. Then they continued their journey until they met Tunkodbola [so called because he used as a cane (Tagalog tungkod) the large cylindrical piece of iron used for crushing sugar-cane (Tagalog bold)], whom Carancal also challenged to a wrestling match. Tunkodbola laughed at Carancal, and said, 'Look at this!' He twisted up a tree near by, and hurled it out of sight. 'That is all right. Let us wrestle, and we will see if you can twist me,' said Carancal scornfully. So they wrestled. The earth trembled, trees were uprooted, large stones rolled about; but Tunkodbola was defeated. 'Here, take this bolo and carry it!' said Carancal triumphantly; and they continued their journey. When they reached the top of a mountain, they saw a big man. This was Macabuhalbundok [literally, 'one who can overturn a mountain']. Carancal challenged him; but Macabuhalbundok only laughed, and pushed up a hill. As the hill fell, he said, 'Look at this hill! I gave it only a little push, and it was overthrown.' 'Well, I am not a hill,' said Carancal. 'I can balance myself.' They wrestled together, and Carancal was once more the winner. The four companions now walked on together. They were all wandering about, not knowing where to go. When they were in the midst of a thick wood, they became hungry; so Carancal, their captain, ordered one of them to climb a tall tree and see if any house was nigh. Bugtongpalasan did so, and he saw a big house near the edge of the forest. They all went to the house to see if they might not beg some food. It was a very large house; but all the windows were closed, and it seemed to be uninhabited. They knocked at the door, but no one answered. Then they went in, and found a table covered with delicious food; and as they were almost famished, they lost no time in devouring what seemed to have been prepared for them. After all had eaten, three of them went hunting, leaving Bugtongpalasan behind to cook more food for them against their return. While Bugtongpalasan was cooking, he felt the earth tremble, and in a short time he saw a big giant ascending the stairs of the house, saying, 'Ho, bajo tao cainco,' which means 'I smell a man whom I will eat.' Bugtongpalasan faced him, but what could a man do to a big giant? The monster pulled a hair out of his head and tied Bugtongpalasan to a post. Then he cooked his own meal. After eating, he went away, leaving his prisoner in the house. When the three arrived, they were very angry with Bugtongpalasan because no food had been prepared for them; but they untied him, and made him get the meal. Tunkodbola was the next one left behind as cook while the others went hunting, but he had the same experience as Bugtongpalasan. Then Macabuhalbondok; but the same thing happened to him too. It was now the turn of Carancal to try his wit, strength, and luck. Before the three left, he had them shave his head. When the giant came and saw that Carancal's head was white, he laughed. 'It is a very fine thing to have a white head,' said the giant. 'Make my head white, too.' 'Your head must be shaved to be white,' said Carancal, 'and it is a very difficult thing to shave a head.' 'Never mind that! I want to have my head shaved,' said the giant impatiently. Carancal then got some ropes and wax. He tied the giant tightly to a post, and then smeared his body with wax. He next took a match and set the giant's body on fire. Thus the giant was destroyed, and the four lived in the house as if it were their own. Not long afterwards a rumor reached their ears. It was to this effect: that in a certain kingdom on the other side of the sea lived a king who wanted to have a huge stone removed from its place. This stone was so big that it covered much ground. The prize that would be given to the one who could remove it was the hand of the king's prettiest daughter. The four set out to try their strength. At that time there were no boats for them to sail on, so they had to swim. After three weeks' swimming, they landed on an island-like place in the sea, to rest. It was smooth and slippery, which made them wonder what it could be. Carancal, accordingly, drew his bolo and thrust it into the island. How fast the island moved after the stroke! It was not really an island, but a very big fish. Fortunately the fish carried the travelers near the shores of the kingdom they were seeking. When the four arrived, they immediately presented themselves to the king, and told him that they would try to move the stone. The king ordered one of his soldiers to show them the stone. There a big crowd of people collected to watch the four strong men. The first to try was Bugtongpalasan. He could hardly budge it. Then Tunkodbola tried, but moved it only a few yards. When Macabuhalbundok's turn came, he moved the great stone half a mile; but the king said that it was not satisfactory. Carancal then took hold of the rope tied to the stone, and gave a swing. In a minute the great stone was out of sight. The king was very much pleased, and asked Carancal to choose a princess for his wife. 'I am not old enough to marry, my lord,' said Carancal sadly. 'I will marry one of my companions to your daughter, however, if you are willing.' The king agreed, and Bugtongpalasan was made a prince. The three unmarried men lived with Bugtongpalasan. By this time they were known not only throughout the whole kingdom where they were, but also in other countries. They had not enjoyed a year's hospitality in Bugtongpalasan's home when a letter addressed to the four men came. It was as follows: I have heard that you have superhuman strength, which I now greatly need. About a week ago a monster fish floated up to the shore of my town. It is decaying, and has a most offensive odor. My men in vain have tried to drag the fish out into the middle of the sea. I write to inform you that if you can rid us of it, I will let one of you marry my prettiest daughter. King Walangtacut [literally, 'without fear, fearless'] After Carancal had read the letter, he instantly remembered the fish that had helped them in traveling. The three companions made themselves ready, bade Bugtongpalasan good-bye, and set out for Walangtacut's kingdom. They traveled on foot, for the place was not very far away. In every town they passed through, the people cried, 'Hurrah for the strong men!' The king received them with a banquet, and all the houses of the town were decorated with flags. In a word, every one welcomed them. After the banquet was over, the three men marched with the king and all his counsellors, knights, dukes, and the common people to where the decaying fish lay. In this test, too, Carancal was the only successful one. Again he refused to marry; but as the princess was very anxious to have a strong man for her husband, Tunkodbola was chosen by Carancal, and he became her husband. The fame of the strong men was now nearly universal. All the surrounding kings sent congratulations. The heroes received offers of marriage from many beautiful ladies of the neighboring kingdoms. One day when Carancal and Macabuhalbundok were talking together, one of them suggested that they go on another journey. The other agreed, and both of them made preparations. But when they were about to start, a letter from another king came, addressed to Carancal. The king said in his letter that a great stone had fallen in his park. 'It is so big that I thought it was the sky that fell,' he wrote. 'I am willing to marry you to my youngest daughter if you can remove it from its present place,' said the king. The two friends accepted the invitation, and immediately began their journey. They traveled by land and sea for many a day. At last they reached the place. There they found the same stone which they had removed before. As he knew that he could not move it far enough, Macabuhalbundok did not make any attempt: Carancal was again the one who did the work. Once more Carancal refused to marry. 'I am too young yet to marry,' he said to the king. 'In my place I will put my companion.' So Macabuhalbundok was married. Carancal remained a bachelor, for he did not wish to have a wife. The three princes considered him as their father, though he was younger than any of them. For a long time Carancal lived with each of them a year in rotation. Not long after the marriage of Macabuhalbundok, the father-in-law of Bugtongpalasan died, and so Bugtongpalasan became the king. Then the following year Tunkodbola's father-in-law died, and Tunkodbola became also a king. After many years the fatherin-law of Macabuhalbundok died, and Macabuhalbundok succeeded to the throne. Thus Carancal was the benefactor of three kings. One day Carancal thought of visiting his cruel parents and of living with them. So he set out, carrying with him plenty of money, which the three kings had given him. This time his parents did not drive him away, for he had much wealth. Carancal lived once more with his parents, and had three kings under him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,The Strong Man,India,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Cecil Henry Bompas Folklore of the Santal Parganas (London: David Nutt, 1909), no. 56, pp. 176-79.","There was once a strong man but no one knew of his strength. He was in the service of a farmer who made him headman over all his laborers. In those days much of the country was still covered with jungle. One day the farmer chose a piece of forest land which he thought suitable for cultivation and told his laborers to set to work and clear it, and as usual after giving his orders he troubled himself no more about the matter, as he could fully rely on the strong man. The next morning, the strong man set the other laborers to work plowing a field and then said that he would go and have a look at the jungle which his master wanted cleared. So he went off alone with only a stick in his hand. When he reached the place, he walked all round it, and saw how much could be made into good arable land, and then he began to clear it. He pulled up the trees by the roots and piled them into a heap and he took the rocks and threw them to one side and made the ground quite clear and smooth, and then went back to the house. On being asked why he had been so long away, he answered that he had been pulling up a few bushes at the place which was to be cleared. The following morning the strong man told the farm laborers to take their plows to the clearing and begin to plow it. When the farmer heard this, he was puzzled to think how the land could be ready for plowing so soon, and went to see it and to his amazement found the whole land cleared, every tree pulled up by the roots and all the rocks removed. Then he asked the strong man whether he had done the work by himself. The strong man answered 'no,' a number of people had volunteered to help him and so the work had been finished in a day. The farmer said nothing but he did not believe the story and saw that his servant must really be a man of marvellous strength. Neither he nor the farm laborers let any one else know what had happened, they kept it to themselves. Now the strong man's wages were twelve measures of rice a year. After working for four years he made up his mind to leave his master and start farming on his own account. So he told the farmer that he wished to leave but offered to finish any work there was to do before he went, that no one might be able to say that he had gone away, leaving his work half done. The farmer assured him that there was nothing for him to do and gave him rice equal to his four years' wages. The rice made two big bandis, each more than an ordinary man could lift, but the strong man slung them onto a bamboo and carried them off over his shoulder. After he had gone a little way, it struck the farmer that it would not do to let him display his strength in this way and that it would be better if he took the rice away at night. So he had the strong man called back and told him that there was one job which he had forgotten to finish; he had put two bundles of sabai grass into the trough to steep and had forgotten to twist it into string. Without a word the strong man went and picked the sabai out of the water and began to twist it, but he could tell at once by the feel that the sabai had only just been placed in the water and he charged the farmer with playing a trick on him. The farmer swore that there was no trick and, rather than quarrel, the strong man went on with the work. While he was so engaged the farmer offered him some tobacco, and the strong man took it without washing and wiping his hands. Now no one should prepare or chew tobacco while twisting sabai; if one does not first wash and dry one's hands one's strength will go. The strong man knew this, but he was so angry at being called back on false pretences that he forgot all about it. But when he had finished the string and the farmer said that he might go, he essayed to take up the two bandis of rice as before. To his sorrow he found that he could not lift them. Then he saw the mistake that he had made. He had to leave one bandi behind and divide the other into two halves and sling them on the bamboo and carry them off with him. The strong man's cultivation did not prosper, and after three or four years he found himself at the end of his means and had again to take service with a farmer. One day when field work was in full swing the strong man had a quarrel with his new master. So when he had finished the morning's plowing he pulled the iron point of the plowshare out of its socket and snapped it in two. Then he took the pieces to his master and explained that it had caught on the stump of a tree and got broken. The master took the broken share to the blacksmith and had it mended. The next day the strong man went through the same performance and his master had again to go the blacksmith. The same thing happened several days running, till at last the farmer decided to keep watch and see what really happened. So he hid himself and saw the strong man snap the plowshare in two; but in view of such a display of strength he was much too frightened to let his servant know that he had found out the trick that was being played on him. He took the pieces to the blacksmith as usual and at the smithy he found some of his friends and told them what had happened. They advised him to set the strong man to twisting sabai string and then by some pretext induce him to take tobacco. The farmer did as they advised and in about a fortnight the strong man lost all his strength and became as other men. Then his master dismissed him and he had to go back to his house and his strength never returned to him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
650A,The Young Giant,Germany,The Grimms' source: Georg August Friedrich Goldmann from Hannover. Link to the text of this tale in a single file: The Young Giant.,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Der junge Riese,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales], 7th ed., vol. 2, (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 90, pp. 20-28.","A peasant had a son who was only as big as a thumb and did not grow any larger. In several years he did not grow even the width of a hair. One day the peasant wanted to go to the field and plow, and the little one said, 'Father, I want to go out with you.' 'No,' said the father, 'you have to stay here. There's nothing that you could do to help me, and besides that you might get lost.' Then the thumbling began to cry and was not going to give the father any peace until he took him along. So the father put him in his pocket and carried him to the field, where he placed him in a fresh furrow. While he was sitting there a large giant came over the mountain towards them. 'Do you see that bogeyman?' said the father, in order to frighten the little one into being good. 'He's coming to get you.' Now the giant had very long legs, and he reached the furrow in only a few steps, picked up the little thumbling, and walked away with him. The father stood there so frightened that he could not speak a word. He believed that his child was lost, and that he would never see him again as long as he lived. The giant took the child home and let him suckle at his breast, and the thumbling grew large and strong like a giant. After two years had passed, the old giant took him into the woods in order to test him. He said, 'Pull out a switch from over there.' The boy was so strong already that a pulled a young tree up by the roots. The giant thought that he could do better and took him back home and suckled him for two more years. When he took him into the woods to test him this time, he pulled up a much larger tree. This was still not good enough for the giant, and he suckled him for yet another two years, took him into the woods, and said, 'Now pull out a decent switch for once.' This time the boy pulled the thickest oak tree out of the ground. He cracked it and laughed. When the old giant saw this, he said, 'That's good enough. You've passed the test.' And he took him back to the field where he found him. The father was plowing again, and the young giant walked up to him and said, 'Father, see what has become of me. I am your son.' The peasant was frightened and said, 'No, you are not my son. Get away from me.' 'Of course I am your son. Just let me plow. I can do it just as well as you can.' 'No, you are not my son. You can't plow. Get away from me.' He was so afraid of the large man that he let go of the plow and walked to the edge of the field. The boy picked up the handle to plow, but he pushed so hard with his one hand that the plow sank deep into the earth. The peasant could not watch this, and called to him, 'If you insist on plowing, then don't push down so hard, or you will ruin the field.' Then the boy hitched himself in front of the plow and said, 'Go on home and tell mother that she should cook up a big plate of something to eat. In the meantime, I'll tear around the field.' The peasant went home and told his wife to fix something to eat, and she cooked up a large dinner, and the boy plowed the field: two full acres all by himself. Then he hitched himself to the harrow and harrowed the entire thing, pulling two harrows at the same time. When he was finished he went into the woods, pulled up two oak trees, laid them on his shoulders, then put a harrow on each end and a horse on each end as well, and carried the whole thing home like a bundle of straw. When he walked into the farmyard, his mother did not recognize him and asked, 'Who is this terrible large man?' The peasant said, 'This is our son.' She said, 'No, this could never be our son. We did not have such a large child. Ours was a little thing. Go away. We don't want you.' The boy said nothing. He pulled his horses into the stall, gave them oats and hay, and put everything in order. When he was finished he went into the house, sat down on the bench, and said, 'Mother, I'd like to eat. Will it be ready soon?' She said, 'Yes,' and did not dare to contradict him. She brought in two very large plates, more than she and her husband could have eaten in an entire week. He ate it all and asked if they didn't have more. 'No,' she said. 'That's all that we have.' 'That was only a taste. I have to have more.' Then she went out and filled a large hog cauldron and put it on the fire, and when it was done she brought it in. 'That's a nice little bit,' he said, and ate the whole thing, but it still wasn't enough. Then he said, 'Father, I see that I'll never be full if I stay here with you. If you can get me an iron rod that is so strong I can't break it against my knees, then I'll go away again.' The peasant was happy to hear this. He hitched his two horses to his wagon and drove to the blacksmith and got a rod so large and thick that the two horses could barely pull it. The boy held it against his knees and -- crash! -- he broke it in two like a bean pole. Then the peasant hitched up four horses and brought back a rod that was so large and thick that the four horses could barely pull it. The son picked up this one as well, cracked it in two against his knee, tossed it aside, and said, 'Father, this one is of no use to me. Hitch up more horses and get me a stronger staff.' So the father hitched up eight horses and fetched one so large and thick that the eight horses could barely pull it. When the son received this one, he broke a little piece from the top of it and said, 'Father, I see that you can't get me a proper staff, so I'll just go away anyhow.' So he went on his way, claiming to be a journeyman blacksmith. He came to a village where a smith lived who was a real cheapskate. He would never give anything to anyone, and always wanted everything for himself. The young giant walked into his smithy and asked him if he could use a journeyman. 'Yes,' answered the smith, looking at him and thinking what a strong fellow he was, someone who could really earn his keep. 'What kind of wages do you want?' 'I don't want any wages at all,' said the young giant. 'But at the end of every two weeks when the other journeymen receive their pay, just let me hit you twice. And you'll have to be able to take it.' The cheapskate was only too happy with this arrangement, for he thought that it would save him a lot of money. The next morning the new journeyman was to have the first turn at the anvil. The master brought out a glowing rod, and the young giant knocked it into two pieces with his first blow, at the same time driving the anvil so deep into the ground that they could not get it back out again. This made the cheapskate angry, and he said, 'I can't use you here. Your blows are too rough. What do you need for pay?' The young giant said, 'Just a little kick, nothing more.' He lifted up his foot and gave him a kick that sent him flying over four loads of hay. Then he took the thickest rod from the smithy to use as a walking stick, and went on his way. Sometime later he came to an estate and asked the overseer if he could use a chief farmhand. 'Yes,' said the overseer. 'You look like a strong fellow who knows how to work. What kind of yearly wage do you want.' The young giant replied that the only pay he wanted was to be able to give the overseer three blows, and that he would have to be able to stand them. The overseer was satisfied with this, for he too was a cheapskate. The next morning the workers were supposed to go to work in the woods. The others were already up, but the young giant was still lying in bed. One of them shouted to him, 'Get up now. It's time to go to the woods, and you have to come along too.' He replied, coarsely and sarcastically, 'Go on without me. I'll be finished before any of you.' The others reported to the overseer that the new chief farmhand was still lying in bed and would not go to the woods with them. The overseer told them to wake him up again and tell him to harness the horses. The young giant answered the same as before, 'Go on without me. I'll be finished before any of you.' He slept two more hours, then finally got out of bed, got two shovels full of peas from the barn, cooked them, ate them at his leisure, and when he had finished all this, he harnessed the horses and drove them to the woods. Just before the woods, the road passed through a hollow. He drove his wagon through the hollow, but then filled it in with such a pile of trees and branches that no horse would ever be able to get through. He had just arrived in the woods when he met the others on their way home with their loaded wagons. He said to them, 'Drive on. I'll be home before you are.' He drove a little further into the woods, ripped two of the largest trees out of the ground, loaded them onto his wagon, and turned around. When he came to the pile of trees and branches, the others were just standing there, unable to get through. He said, 'See, if you had stayed with me, you could have gone straight home, and you'd be able to sleep an extra hour.' He started to drive through, but his four horses couldn't make it, so he unhitched them, hitched himself to the wagon, and pulled it through as easily as if it had been loaded with feathers. When he was on the other side of the rubble he called out, 'See, I got through before you did,' and he drove off, leaving them standing there. When he arrived at the farmyard he picked up a tree with one hand, showed it to the overseer, and said, 'How is this for a measuring stick?' Then the overseer said to his wife, 'This chief farmhand is all right. Even when he sleeps in, he arrives home before the others.' He worked for the overseer for one year. When the year had passed and the other workers received their wages, he said that it was also time for his payment. The overseer became frightened that he was going to have to receive his blows, and he asked him to spare him. If he would do so, the overseer himself would become chief farmhand, and the young giant could become overseer. 'No,' replied the young giant. 'I do not want to be overseer. I am chief farmhand and will remain chief farmhand. I only want to deliver what was promised me.' The overseer offered to give him anything that he asked for, but there was no way out. The chief farmhand insisted on the original agreement. The overseer did not know what else to do, so he asked for an extension of two weeks, and then called all of his clerks together and asked for their advice. They thought for a long time, and finally concluded that the chief farmhand would have to die. He would be asked to bring a load of large millstones to the edge of the well in the farmyard, then he would be sent down into the well to clean it, and while he was down there, they would throw the millstones onto his head. The overseer was delighted with this plan. Everything was prepared. The largest millstones were brought in. As soon as the chief farmhand was down in the well, they rolled the stones in on top of him. They fell with a great splash. Everyone thought that they had crushed his head, but he called out, 'Chase the chickens away from the well. They are scratching in the sand, and throwing little grains into my eyes until I can't see.' The overseer called out, 'Shoo! Shoo!' as though he were chasing the chickens away. When the chief farmhand was finished, he climbed out and said, 'Look at this nice necklace.' He was wearing the millstones around his neck. When the overseer saw that he again became frightened again, because the chief farmhand wanted to give him his wages, so he asked for another extension of fourteen days. He summoned the clerks, and they advised him to send the farmhand to the haunted mill to grind grain during the night. No human had ever come from there alive. This advice pleased the overseer, and that same evening he summoned the farmhand and told him to haul eight bushels of grain to the mill and to grind it during the night. They were in need of it. So the chief farmhand went to the loft and put two bushels in his right pocket and two bushels in his left pocket. Then he loaded four bushels in a large sack which he carried over his shoulder. He took all this to the haunted mill. The miller told him that during the daytime he could grind the grain very well, but at nighttime the mill was haunted and anyone who went inside during the night was found dead the next morning. The farmhand said, 'I will do all right. Just leave me alone and go to bed now.' Then he went inside the mill and dumped out the grain. When it began to strike eleven he went into the sitting area and sat on a bench. He had just eaten a little when the door opened and a large table came inside. On the table were wine, roasted meat, and many good things to eat. Everything was by itself; no one had carried it in. Then the chairs moved themselves into place, but no one was there. Suddenly he saw fingers handling the knives and forks and placing food onto the plates, but he could see nothing else. He was hungry, and he could see food, so he sat down and ate alongside the unseen ones, and everything tasted very good. He was full, and the others had cleaned off their plates as well, when suddenly all the lights were blown out. He heard this very distinctly. Sitting there in total darkness, something gave him a slap in the face. He said, 'If you do that again, I'll give the same thing back to you.' He received a second slap, and he struck back. Thus it continued the entire night, but he was never afraid, always striking back fiercely. At daybreak everything ceased. When the miller got up, he looked in on the farmhand to see how he was, and was amazed to see that he was still alive. The farmhand said, 'I received some slaps, but I also gave out some slaps, and had plenty to eat.' The miller was delighted and said that the mill was now freed of its curse, and he offered him a large sum of money as a reward. But the farmhand said, 'I don't want any money; I have enough.' Then he loaded his flour onto his back and returned home. He told the overseer he had completed the task and now wanted the wages that they had agreed upon. The overseer, beside himself with fear, walked back and forth in his room until sweat dripped from his face. He opened the window for some fresh air. Before he knew what had happened, the young giant kicked him from behind. He flew so far through the air, that no one has seen him since. Then the young giant turned to the overseer's wife and said that she would have to receive the next blow. 'No, I'd never be able to withstand it,' she said, and opened a window, because of the sweat dripping from her face. He gave her a kick as well, and she flew even higher than her husband. 'Come to me,' he called to her. 'No, you come to me,' she called back. 'I can't come to you.' And they soared through the air, neither of them able to get to the other one. I do not know if they are still soaring. But as for the young giant, he picked up his iron rod and went on his way.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1889B,Baron Munchausen and the Wolf,England / Germany,"Rudolf Erich Raspe (1736-1794) was a German expatriate who left Germany in 1775, spending the rest of his life in England, Scotland, and Ireland.","Source (books.google.com): Rudolf Erich Raspe, Baron Munchausen's Narrative of His Marvellous Travels and Campaigns in Russia (Oxford, 1786), pp. 24-26.","The fiercest and most dangerous animals generally came upon me when defenceless, as if they had a notion or foresight of it by way of instinct. Thus a frightful wolf rushed upon me so suddenly, and so close that I could do nothing but follow mechanical instinct, and thrust my fist into his open mouth. For safety's sake I pushed on, and on, till my arm was fairly in, up to the shoulder. How should I disengage myself? I was not much pleased with my awkward situation -- with a wolf face to face -- our ogling was not of the most pleasant kind. If I withdrew my arm, then the animal would fly the more furiously upon me; that I saw in his flaming eyes. In short, I laid hold of his intrails, turned him inside out like a glove, and flung him to the ground, where I left him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1889B,Cougar Tamers,USA (Idaho),NA,"Source (books.google.com): Vardis Fisher, Idaho Lore, prepared by the Federal Writers' Project of the Work Projects Administration (Caldwell, Idaho: The Caxton Printers, 1939), p. 121.","Yup, we usta have quite a bit of trouble with cougars and we wuz pretty keerful to have a gun with us when we ambled out. One time though, I plumb forgot my gun and I had a narrow squeak with one of them-there varmints. 'Twas over to that place I usta have in the valley. I goes out after supper to bring the cows home and I was right dog-eared busy when I happened to look up. There was a cougar comun down the hill after me, and me without a gun. I had to think right smart about it. When the varmint got up to me with wide open mouth I just reached in and grabbed his tail and turned him wrong side out quickern a flash. Of course, he was headed in the wrong direction then, and so doggone surprised that he went lickety-split right back up the hill and out of sight.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1889B,The Smith of Cannstatt and the Wolf,Germany,"This tale was also recorded by Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof: Wendunmuth. Darinnen fünff hundert und fünffzig höflicher, züchtiger und lustigen Historien, Schimpffreden und Gleichnüssen begriffen und gezogen seyn auß alten und jetzigen Scribenten (Frankfurt: Georg Raben, 1565), no. 257, p. 263. Heinrich Bebel (1472-1518) was German humanist. He is best known today for his Facetiae (1506), a collection of anecdotes recorded in Latin. The above tale comes from this work.","Source (books.google.com): Heinrich Bebel, Schwänke, edited by Albert Wesselski, vol. 2, (Munich and Leipzig: Georg Müller, 1907), p. 51. Source (Internet Archive): Heinrich Bebel, Schwänke, edited by Albert Wesselski, vol. 2, (Munich and Leipzig: Georg Müller, 1907), p. 51.","The smith of Cannstatt was going through the woods when a wolf leapt toward him. His jaws were wide open, as though he wanted to swallow the smith whole. To protect himself, the smith pushed his right hand through the wolf's throat and into his body. He grabbed his tail and turned the wolf inside out, just like a cobbler does with a shoe.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,A Man Who Was Only a Finger and a Half in Stature,Bangladesh / India,NA,"Source (books.google.com): F. B. Bradley-Birt, Bengal Fairy Tales (London and New York: John Lane Company, 1920), no. 11, pp. 200-204. Source (Internet Archive): F. B. Bradley-Birt, Bengal Fairy Tales (London and New York: John Lane Company, 1920), no. 11, pp. 200-204.","There was once a certain wood-cutter, the barrenness of whose wife was a constant source of distress to him, the more so as all the neighbours pointed at the couple as especially cursed by Heaven. The husband and wife made the richest presents and the sincerest vows to the goddess Shoshti, the giver of children; and she one day appeared before the wood-cutter in the shape of an old lady, and gave him a cucumber, saying that his wife should eat it entire, without leaving the skin even, on the seventh day from that day. The wood-cutter gave it to his wife with these instructions, but she, in her impatience, ate it up the very next day, even forgetting Shoshti's instructions as to the skin. After the usual period of conception, a male child was born; but the mother was well punished for her disobedience to the goddess. There was hardly anything natural about the child. It was born as a fully developed man, but was only a finger and a half tall, with a tuft of hair behind its head three fingers in length. He could talk and walk from his very birth; and when not even an hour old he started in search of his father, who had gone out woodcutting. He passed through many thoroughfares and through the forest, dispersing at one stroke of his feet the grasshoppers and other insects that waylaid him, till he reached a palace gate, where his father was toiling with great drops of perspiration on the forehead. The boy asked him to go home but he said that having witnessed his child's birth and seen what had happened, he had left home in disgust, and sold himself to the king as a slave, and that therefore it was impossible for him to leave his work. At this, the son went to the king, and asked him to liberate his father. The king was annoyed at the diminutive figure before him, and said that the wood-cutter could be set free only on the payment of cowries (money) as his ransom. Mr. 'One-Finger-and-Half,' as his name was, ran out like a ball set in motion to procure the cowries, and in the course of his journey came to a canal which to him seemed impassable. He was thinking how to cross it, when he felt someone pulling from behind at his tuft of hair. By one jerk he freed it from the stranger's grasp, and looking behind saw a frog, which, being interrogated, said that it had for its father the king of frogs, and that its name was Rung Soondar. At this the wood-cutter's son burst into a laugh of scorn, and was about to punish the young frog by dismembering it, when it said, 'By certain mystical powers I know you to be a wood-cutter's son. Now it does not look well for you to be without an axe. You will get one from a blacksmith yonder, on paying a single cowrie.' To which the young man answered, 'O brother, I am a child, where shall I get a cowrie? For want of cowries I could not liberate my father. I have nothing in the world, and shall ever remain obliged if you can lend me something.' The frog, startled at the request, said he had only a single cowrie, and that one with a hole in it. The suggestion of possessing himself of an axe was pleasing to the dwarf, and thinking little of the impediment, he directed his steps towards the blacksmith's, whom he found to be a man of the stature of two fingers and a half, and with a beard longer by half a finger. He was making an axe and a sickle, each half a finger in length. The boy, without the required cowrie, did not at first know how to proceed. But he hit off a clever plan. He approached the smith with stealthy steps, and, unperceived, tied the tuft of hair on his own head to the beard of the latter. Then he jumped on the smith's back. The latter, taken by surprise, called on his gods, wondering if he were in the clutches of a ghost or hobgoblin. His aggressor, with sides bursting with laughter, got down, and introduced himself as his best friend. But soft words were useless. The smith in a rage asked if the cowrie, the usual fee for admission into the house, had been brought, and being answered in the negative, clutched his antagonist by the throat, and was on the point of throttling him, when one of the hairs of the latter, still tied to the beard of the former, was torn. The wood-cutter's son threw himself on this account into a frenzy, and demanded of the smith the restoration of the hair, threatening him, in case of refusal, with a legal process. The smith, agitated with great terror, pleaded for mercy, which was granted on his consenting to give up the axe and the sickle when finished. A lasting friendship was then contracted between the parties, and the boy left the place. He came back to the young frog, and was asked by it to cut with his axe a young tamarind tree in the hollow of which its mate was shut up. He complied with the request; but the frog inside, having lost, through long want of exercise, the use of its legs, could not leave the hollow. Master 'One-Finger-and-a-Half,' with admirable presence of mind, put his tuft of hair into the hole and drew the frog out. Rung Soondar out of gratitude presented him with the one cowrie it possessed, which it said would suffice to liberate his father; and its mate gave him a few drops of its spittle, saying that with them he could heal the blindness of the daughter of the king whose slave his father was, and so gain her for his wife. He accordingly left the frogs, and journeyed towards the country where his father was. The cowrie the frog had given him multiplied on the way into as many cowries as would amount to a round sum of money, and he went to the king and insolently demanded of him the liberty of his father. The king, counting the cowries and satisfied with their value, promised to meet the demand, but not omitting to give the impertinent upstart a few slaps on the cheek, and a violent pull at his tuft of hair. But he was not one to be so easily disposed of. He persisted in remaining in the king's presence, and boldly asked him if he had a blind daughter, and if he would marry her to him. The king replied that for certain reasons she could not be married, save in the presence of the corpses of seven thieves separated from his kingdom by thirteen rivers. The dwarf, leaving his father behind, started for the country of the thieves, and after many adventures, reached an ant-hill near it. He could proceed no further, and tired with the long journey, and worn out with hunger and thirst, he fell asleep by the ant-hill. Midnight came, and the thieves of whom he had come in search were out on a pilfering expedition. One of them stumbled upon him, and being awakened, he asked them who they were and where they were going. They told him that they were thieves, and that their present object was to break into the house of his old friend the blacksmith. Anxious for his friend's safety, and for the furtherance of his own ends, he suggested that they would find it more profitable to present themselves before the king living across the thirteen rivers flowing by their country, who intended to give one of them his daughter as wife with a fit dowry. They yielded to the deception, and full of anticipation at the prospect before them, they followed the dwarf as their leader. The thirteen rivers were crossed; and the thieves when about to get down from the last ferry-boat stole some cowries lying hid in one corner of it. The ferry-man and the wood-cutter's son both saw the theft committed, but winked at it for the time being, though in nods and low whispers they communicated to each other their desire for revenge later on. No sooner had the dwarf reached the palace with the thieves, than the ferry-man presented himself before the king and prosecuted them for the theft of his cowries. They were convicted of the offence, and executed. Whereupon master 'One-Finger-and-a-Half' urged his claims to the hand of the blind princess. The king, the queen, and the princess herself were loud in their lamentations at the demand of this deformed creature; but the matter could not be helped. The king, according to the conditions he himself laid down, was bound to give away his daughter to that ugly little specimen of humanity. All he could do was to put off the wedding day. It was within a short time after this that the friends of the seven thieves, getting intelligence of their execution, in a swarm besieged the kingdom, and plundered not only the palace, but all the other houses, reducing the king to the direst poverty imaginable. The dwarf who had enticed their friends into the kingdom and had had them executed, was the object of their keenest search, but he hid himself in a dense patch of grass, and came out only when the coast was clear. He again urged his suit for the princess's hand, and was again put off till the extermination of the race of thieves had been accomplished. For the achievement of this object the dwarf rode away, mounted on a tom-cat, into their country. On the way he made friends with hornets, wasps, and bees, with whom he began an attack which lasted continually for three days, until the thieves, smarting under the poisonous stings of the insects, left the country for good, taking with them their wives and children. Triumphantly returning to the king, he asked him for his father's release and for the hand of the princess. The king could not say 'no' any longer, and the dwarf was re-named Pingal Kumara. His father was brought into the palace on a decorated chariot with flowers, and he himself was rewarded with the princess's hand, whose sight he restored with the help of the frog's spittle. The wood-cutter's wife was brought into the palace, and lived there as happily as the day was long. Years passed over their heads, until at last the king retired into the forest to prepare himself for death, leaving his dominions to his worthy son-in-law.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,A Story,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Galway >> Bullán, p. 100.","By: Nellie Wade, same address, on the 11 July 1938.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,"A Story about Palecek, ""Little Thumb""",Czech Republic,"Link to the story in the original Czech: Božena Němcov&aacute, 'Pohádka o Palečkovi,' Slovenské Pohádky a Pověsti, vols. 1-3 (LitomsyÅ¡l and Prague: Antonína Augusty, 1863), pp. 339-41.","Source (Internet Archive): Božena Němcová, The Disobedient Kids and Other Czecho-Slovak Fairy Tales (Prague: B. Kočí, 1921), unpaginated.","Once upon a time, there was a man and his wife, who had no children. They were very lonely and unhappy. Then they determined to pray to God for a little son. Perhaps He would hear them, if they prayed with all their hearts. 'Dear God,' they prayed, 'You know how much we long for a little boy to be the joy and comfort of our old age. We pray you to have pity on us and send us a son.' The man felt sure that God would listen and went to his work in a contented frame of mind. One day the man went off to the fields to plow. While he was away, a little son was born, no larger than a thumb. His mother called him 'Little Thumb.' Hardly had he been born, before he was all over the house, hopping, skipping and running. He was full of joy and singing all the time. What was the mother's surprise when the little fellow said that noon, 'Mother, give me father's dinner, so that I can take it to him in the field.' The mother made the sign of the cross. She was superstitious and did not know what to make of the boy. She had never in all her life ever heard of a boy like him. Really she was afraid to give him the basket, heavy with the father's dinner, for he was such a tiny mite. He insisted and insisted. Amused at his funny antics, as he gave her no peace, she packed the dinner in the basket and gave it to the boy. Wonder of wonders! He took the basket on his head and ran with it to the fields. He could not be seen for the basket which covered him completely. It was such a funny sight to see this basket go along all by itself, as it were. The dust in the road was as high as his waist and almost smothered the little man, but do you think that he would give up? No sir! He trudged along, sneezing and puffing like a little engine. After a while he came to the brook over which there was no bridge. Now what was he going to do? He was a wise, clever little chap and remembered that there was a big wooden spoon in the basket, so he reached for it and placing it on the water, it bacame a little boat on which he gaily crossed over, towing the basket after him. When he came to the field where his father was plowing, he bagan to call from far off, 'Father, father, here I am with your dinner.' But the father did not hear the thin little voice. Besides he did not even know that a son had been born to him that morning, and then he would not have believed that a newly born son could take his father's dinner to him that same day. Palecek kept on calling. When he stood at his father's feet, the father turned to see where that buzzing sound came from. Then he saw the basket behind him, but did not see Palecek. The father stared at the wonderful basket that had come to the field all alone, as he thought. Then for the first time, he saw a little boy no bigger than a thumb. Imagine his surprise to see such a little boy. Had anybody ever seen one like him before? And then to hear him talk. It was such a cunning sound. He could not believe his ears when Palecek said, 'I am your son!' 'Born this morning and bringing my dinner! You are a wonder, a very miracle of a son,' laughed the father, as sitting down he began to eat his dinner. While his father was eating, Palecek said that he would like to plow a bit for him. He also asked for the whip to drive the oxen. 'How can you drive the oxen, my little son, when you can't even carry the whip?' laughed the father, 'I will make them go without a whip,' answered the boy, as with one bound, he jumped on the nearest ox and crept into his ear. As he did so, he cried as loud as he could, 'Hoi! Heiso! Hwi!' The boy's voice sounded like thunder in the ear of that ox, as he started off in a mad race, dragging his mate with him. The oxen ran up and down, over that field so fast, that Palecek plowed more that noon than the father had the whole morning. Around the field where Palecek was plowing, wound the main road. About that time a rich merchant, who had been to market, was on his way home. When he saw the oxen plowing alone, he was greatly astonished. He could hardly believe his eyes and went up closer to see what it all meant. Then for the first time, he heard the voice of Little Thumb urging them on. With amazement he listened to see where the voice came from. Then he heard it say, 'Here I am in the ear of the ox.' Looking in the ear of the ox, there he spied Palecek. He was delighted with the little chap and wished that he might have him for his own. 'Ha, ha,' he said, 'that's the lad for me. He's so small that he won't eat very much.' That suited him, for he was a very stingy man. 'Will you enter my service,' he asked Little Thumb? 'Why not, if my father is willing,' he replied. Then he sprang like a shot from the ear of the ox, and running to his father, whispered, 'Father, the merchant wants to hire me, but don't let him have me too cheap. Have no fear for me. I shall return to you very soon, but you must be sure to follow us as soon as he takes me.' When the merchant came to the father to ask if he could hire the clever little chap, the father asked, 'How much will you pay?' 'How much do you want?' 'Twenty-one ducats is the wages,' said the father. The merchant at once consented and paid the price. Then he caught up Palecek carefully and put him in his pocket and off they went. The father followed them afar off, as Palecek had urged. He soon learned why, for all along the road he found one piece of money after another that had fallen from the merchant's pockets. Little Thumb, as soon as the merchant had put him so carefully in his pocket, had bitten a hole in it, so that all the money ran out. Then he slipped through the hole himself and hurrying on to meet his father, they went home rejoicing. The merchant arriving home, called out to his wife before he had readied the gate, 'Come and see the marvel I have brought you!' 'What is it?' she said, as she ran out to meet him.' 'A wonderful little man, who can do magic work for us. He is worth much gold.' The wife looked around, wondering where he could be. Not seeing any one, 'Where is he?' she asked. Then the merchant thrusting his hand in his pocket to pull out Palecek, found alas, no Little Thumb, nothing but a great big hole! Not only was Palecek gone, but all his money too. Then the merchant knew that Palecek had outwitted him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,I Had a Little Husband,England,NA,"Source (books.google.com): James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, The Nursery Rhymes of England: Collected Chiefly from Oral Tradition (London: John Russell Smith, 1846), no. 341, p. 155. Source (Internet Archive): James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, The Nursery Rhymes of England (London and New York: Frederick Warne and Company, 1886), no. 474, p. 240.","I bought a little horse, That galloped up and down; I bridled him, and saddled him, And sent him out of town. I gave him some garters, To garter up his hose, And a little handkerchief, To wipe his pretty nose.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Jean des Pois Verts,France,"Carnoy's source: 'Told in January 1878 by A. Haboury, d'Acheux (Somme).'","Source (books.google.com): E. Henry Carnoy, 'Jean des Pois Verts,'Contes français (Paris: Ernest Leroux, 1885), pp. 245-47. Source (Internet Archive): E. Henry Carnoy, 'Jean des Pois Verts,'Contes français (Paris: Ernest Leroux, 1885), pp. 245-47.","'If I tried,' she said to herself, 'maybe I could get one! I'll plant a bushel of peas.' She dug a patch in her garden and planted the peas in it. She watered them every day until she saw thousands of little children's heads appearing above the ground. The next day little boys, at most half an inch tall, were running around. The peasant woman was embarrassed. She decided to go see a fairy, her godmother, to ask for her advice. The fairy took all the children except one and turned them into elves who flew off in all directions. This is why there are so many goblins, gremlins, sprites, and imps. They are jealous of not being human and thus have no greater pleasure than to mislead travelers and play all kinds of tricks on them. The little child kept was called Jean des Pois Verts [Jean of the Green Peas]. He always remained very small. The fairy presented him with a carriage and magnificent clothes. The carriage was made of a ladybug wing; the horses were two dragonflies; the driver, a little wasp; and the footmen, two black ants. His dress coat was a spider's web, and his garters were two strands of gossamer. He was living happily with his mother when thieves attacked the house. They were about to kill him when their chief stopped them, telling them that he would be useful to them in a burglary that he was planning. They let Jean live, but he was taken prisoner. The brigands then went to plunder a church. The door was locked. Jean was forced to enter through the keyhole and pull back the bolts. The bandits grabbed the gold and precious items and fled into the countryside. Jean des Pois Verts was placed in the chief's pocket, who did not worry about him any longer. The child sneaked out, hid in the undergrowth, and kept his eye on the thieves. He watched them deposit their loot in a cave, and then set out again for a new expedition. Jean des Pois Verts entered the cave and carried away all the riches. Before long he arrived at his house. His mother opened the door and received her son with joy. They were now rich and and led happy lives. When Jean des Pois Verts died, the fairy carried him to heaven on a thistle blossom.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,John Bit-of-a-Man,France,"Carey's source: Nérée Quépat. 'Told Told by Madam Richet, aged 77, at Woippy, near Metz.'","Source (books.google.com): Martha Ward Carey, Fairy Legends of the French Provinces (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell and Company, 1887), pp. 61-65. Source (Internet Archive): Martha Ward Carey, Fairy Legends of the French Provinces (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell and Company, 1887), pp. 61-65.","A Story of the District of Metz Once there was a woman who had a little son who was extremely small; so very small that she named him John Bit-of-a-Man. One day she called him to her and said, 'Come, take this to your father who is working down there in the fields, and when you get to him, say: 'See father! here is your buttered roll!'' 'I will, mother,' said John Bit-of-a-Man; and all along the way he repeated the words so as not to forget them: 'See, father! here is your buttered roll; see, father! here is your buttered roll!' When he reached his father who was occupied in repairing the ditches, he took up his refrain: 'See, father! here is your buttered roll.' The good man, hearing some one speak, looked around him on every side, but saw no one; at last, however, he spied little John Bit-of- a-man in the grass at his feet. 'Ah!' said he, 'it is you, is it? What do you want?' 'I have brought you a buttered roll,' said John Bit-of-a-Man. 'You are very good, my child, to bring me this buttered roll;' and taking it in his hands he ate it all up, without offering John Bit-of-a-Man a mite. 'The glutton! he did not give me any! The glutton! he did not give me any!' groaned John Bit-of-a-Man. Some time after that, a lord passed by. He called to the laborer, 'You have a pretty little boy; will you sell him to me?' 'I will, gladly.' 'How much will you take?' 'A hundred crowns.' 'A hundred crowns you shall have.' The bargain concluded, the lord put John Bit-of-a-Man in his pocket and went on his way. At the end of an hour, the child put his head out of the pocket and begged his master to put him down on the ground for a moment as he felt faint. The lord was good enough to listen to him, and in a moment John Bit-of-a-Man glided under a heap of leaves and his master could not find him. John Bit-of-a-Man being free once more, went back to his father. A few days after that, the lord again passed by the laborer, who was still repairing the ditches. 'You have a pretty little boy there,' said he; 'will you sell him to me?' The bargain concluded, the lord clapped John Bit-of-a-Man into his pocket. At the end of an hour the child put his head out of the pocket and begged his master to put him down on the ground awhile as he felt cramped. 'Well, stay in my pocket and be cramped!' said the lord, who remembered how he had been caught before. When he reached his castle, he took John Bit-of-a-Man out of his pocket and put him in a basket which he suspended from the kitchen ceiling, and told him to watch everything he saw going on, and tell him faithfully all that he saw. John Bit-of-a-Man agreed to do this, and each day he told his master all that he saw and heard. One day our hero leaned his little head over the edge of the basket, so he could see around him, and a servant saw him and said to him, 'So it is you who watch us, you little wretch! It is you who tell the master all that happens! Very well! You shall pay for it!' Amid the applause of his companions, the servant took down the basket, seized the poor little fellow by the hair, and threw him into the horse-trough. That same day an ox went there to drink, and swallowed him whole. At the end of a week, the lord had the ox killed for a great feast that he made; the entrails were thrown out into the road. An old woman passing by saw the entrails. 'Oh! what splendid entrails! What a pity to throw them away!' and so saying, she clapped them into the basket which she carried on her back. She had not taken many steps, when she heard a noise that came from her basket saying: Toc! toc! The devil's imp is in your basket! The old woman threw down her basket, and ran away frightened. A hungry wolf came along who seized on the entrails with avidity, and John Bit-of-a-Man was once more swallowed alive. As the wolf was crossing the plain, he heard a voice which came from the inside of his body cry out, 'Help! shepherd! help! Here is the wolf that devours your sheep.' 'Be quiet! you cursed stomach; be quiet! cursed stomach!' said the wolf in desperation. 'I will not hold my tongue until you have put me down at my father's door,' answered John Bit-of-a-Man. 'Very well; I will go there,' said the wolf. When they got there, John Bit-of-a-Man got out of the wolf's stomach, and ran quickly into the house, passing by the cat's hole; at the same moment, seizing the wolf by the tail, he cried, 'Come, father, come, I have got the wolf by the tail.' His father ran to him, killed the wolf with one stroke of his axe, and sold his skin. Restored to his home again, John Bit-of-a-Man lived ever after happy and peaceful.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Little Blue Riding Hood,France,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Emmanuel Cosquin, 'Le petit chaperon bleu', Contes populaires de Lorraine (Paris: F. Vieweg, 1886), no. 53 (variant), pp. 148-49. Source (Internet Archive): Emmanuel Cosquin, 'Le petit chaperon bleu', Contes populaires de Lorraine (Paris: F. Vieweg, 1886), no. 53 (variant), pp. 148-49.","When he did not arrive at the parents, they returned home. They called to him and looked everywhere for him, but Little Blue Riding Hood was nowhere. The hungry cow began to bellow, and they gave her the hay where the boy was hiding. The cow swallowed the child with the hay. A little later they wanted to renew the litter, but the cow would not move aside. They pushed her and hit her, but nothing helped. 'Move cow, move!' 'I will not move!' Hearing the cow speak, people were astonished to hear the cow speak and believed that she was bewitched. They did not know that it was Little Blue Riding Hood who answered for her. They ran and fetched the mayor. 'Move cow, move!' 'I will not move!' Finally they fetched the parish priest, who said to the cow in French, 'Move cow, move!' 'I don't understand French; I will not move!' Not knowing what else to do, the farmer sent for the butcher. The beast was killed and butchered. The stomach was thrown out and picked up by an old woman, who carried it away in her basket. She was scarcely outside the village when the little boy began to sing: 'Walk on, walk on, old fool! I'm here in your basket.' The frightened old woman walked on faster without daring to look behind her. She passed a flock of sheep, and the little boy shouted out, 'Shepherd, shepherd, look out for your sheep! Here comes a wolf.' The old woman, half mad with fear, felt herself and said: 'I am not a wolf! What can that mean?' When she got home, she closed the door, put her basket on the floor, and slit open the cow's stomach. As soon as she turned her head, the little boy came out of his prison and hid behind the cupboard. The old woman prepared the tripe for her supper. She was just beginning to recover from her fright and thought only of enjoying herself, when suddenly the little boy began to cry out 'Bon appétit, old woman!' This time the poor woman thought that the devil was there with her, and she began to tremble in all over. 'Listen up,' the little boy said to her then without leaving his hiding place. 'Promise me not to tell anyone where you found me and to take me where I tell you. I'll then gladly leave you alone, and you won't be sorry to be rid of me.' The old woman promised everything, and Little Blue Riding Hood showed himself to her. She took him back to his parents, who were very happy to see him again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Little Chick-Pea,Italy,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company), no. 77, pp. 242-47. Source (Internet Archive): Thomas Frederick Crane, Italian Popular Tales (London: Macmillan and Company), no. 77, pp. 242-47.","Once upon a time there was a husband and wife who had no children. The husband was a carpenter, and when he came home from his shop he did nothing but scold his wife because she had no children, and the poor woman was constantly weeping and despairing. She was charitable, and had festivals celebrated in the church; but no children. One day a woman knocked at her door and asked for alms; but the carpenter's wife answered: 'I will not give you any, for I have given alms and had masses said, and festivals celebrated for a long time, and have no son.' 'Give me alms and you will have children.' 'Good! in that case I will do all you wish.' 'You must give me a whole loaf of bread, and I will give you something that will bring you children.' 'If you will, I will give you two loaves.' 'No, no! now, I want only one; you can give me the other when you have the children.' So she gave her a loaf, and the woman said: 'Now I will go home and give my children something to eat, and then I will bring you what will make you have children.' 'Very well.' The woman went home, fed her children, and then took a little bag, filled it with chick-peas, and carried it to the carpenter's wife, and said: 'This is a bag of peas; put them in the kneading-trough, and tomorrow they will be as many sons as there are peas.' There were a hundred peas, and the carpenter's wife said: 'How can a hundred peas become a hundred sons?' 'You will see tomorrow.' The carpenter's wife said to herself: 'I had better say nothing about it to my husband, because if by any mischance the children should not come, he would give me a fine scolding.' Her husband returned at night and began to grumble as usual; but his wife said not a word and went to bed repeating to herself: 'Tomorrow you will see!' The next morn-ing the hundred peas had become a hundred sons. One cried: 'Papa, I want to drink.' Another said: 'Papa, I want to eat.' Another: 'Papa, take me up.' He, in the midst of all this tumult, took a stick and went to the trough and began to beat, and killed them all. One fell out (imagine how small they were!) and ran quickly into the bedroom and hid himself on the handle of the pitcher. After the carpenter had gone to his shop his wife said: 'What a ras-cal! He has grumbled so long about my not having children and now he has killed them all!' Then the son who had escaped said: ''Mamma, has papa gone?' She said: 'Yes, my son. How did you manage to escape? Where are you?' 'Hush! I am in the handle of the pitcher; tell me: has papa gone?' 'Yes, yes, yes, come out!' Then the child who had escaped came out and his mamma exclaimed: 'Oh! how pretty you are! How shall I call you?' The child answered: 'Cecino [Little Chick-Pea].' 'Very well, bravo, my Cecino! Do you know, Cecino, you must go and carry your papa's dinner to him at the shop.' 'Yes, you must put the little basket on my head, and I will go and carry it to papa.' The carpenter's wife, when it was time, put the basket on Cecino's head and sent him to carry her husband's dinner to him. When Cecino was near the shop, he began to cry: 'O papa! come and meet me; I am bringing you your dinner.' The carpenter said to himself: 'Oh! did I kill them all, or are there any left?' He went to meet Cecino and said: 'O my good boy! how did you escape my blows?' 'I fell down, ran into the room, and hid myself on the handle of the pitcher.' 'Bravo, Cecino! Listen. You must go around among the country people and hear whether they have anything broken to mend.' 'Yes.' So the carpenter put Cecino in his pocket, and while he went along the way did nothing but chatter; so that every one said he was mad, because they did not know that he had his son in his pocket. When he saw some countrymen he asked: 'Have you anything to mend?' 'Yes, there are some things about the oxen broken, but we cannot let you mend them, for you are mad.' 'What do you mean by calling me mad? I am wiser than you. Why do you say I am mad?' 'Because you do nothing but talk to yourself on the road.' 'I was talking with my son.' 'And where do you keep your son?' 'In my pocket.' 'That is a pretty place to keep your son.' 'Very well, I will show him to you;' and he pulls out Cecino, who was so small that he stood on one of his father's fingers. 'Oh, what a pretty child! You must sell him to us.' 'What are you thinking about! I sell you my son who is so valuable to me!' 'Well, then, don't sell him to us.' What does he do then? He takes Cecino and puts him on the horn of an ox and says: 'Stay there, for now I am going to get the things to mend.' 'Yes, yes, don't be afraid; I will stay on my horn.' So the carpenter went to get the things to mend. Meanwhile two thieves passed by, and seeing the oxen, one said: 'See those two oxen there alone. Come, let us go and steal them.' When they drew near, Cecino cried out: 'Papa, look out! There are thieves here! They are stealing your oxen!' 'Ah! where does that voice come from?' And they approached nearer to see; and Cecino, the nearer he saw them come, the more he called out: 'Look out for your oxen, papa; the thieves are stealing them!' When the carpenter came the thieves said to him: 'Good man, where does that voice come from?' 'It is my son.' 'If he is not here, where is he?' 'Don't you see? There he is, up on the horn of one of the oxen.' When he showed him to them, they said: 'You must sell him to us; we will give you as much money as you wish.' 'What are you thinking about! I might sell him to you, but who knows how much my wife would grumble about it! ' 'Do you know what you must tell her? That he died on the way.' They tempted him so much that at last he gave him to them for two sacks of money. They took their Cecino, put him in one of their pockets, and went away. On their journey they saw the king's stable. 'Let us take a look at the king's stable and see whether we can steal a pair of horses.' 'Very good.' They said to Cecino: 'Don't betray us.' 'Don't be afraid, I will not betray you.' So they went into the stable and stole three horses, which they took home and put in their own stable. Afterwards they went and said to Cecino: 'Listen. We are so tired! save us the trouble, go down and give the horses some oats.' Cecino went to do so, but fell asleep on the halter and one of the horses swallowed him. When he did not return, the thieves said: 'He must have fallen asleep in the stable.' So they went there and looked for him and called: 'Cecino, where are you? ' 'Inside of the black horse.' Then they killed the black horse; but Cecino was not there. ' Cecino, where are you?' 'In the bay horse.' So they killed the bay horse; but Cecino was not there. 'Cecino, where are you?' But Cecino answered no longer. Then they said: 'What a pity! that child who was so useful to us is lost.' Then they dragged out into the fields the two horses that they had cut open. A famished wolf passed that way and saw the dead horses. 'Now I will eat my fill of horse,' and he ate and ate until he had finished and had swallowed Cecino.* [*It appears from this that Cecino had been in one of the horses all the time, but the thieves had not seen him because he was so small.] Then the wolf went off until it became hungry again and said: 'Let us go and eat a goat.' When Cecino heard the wolf talk about eating a goat, he cried out: 'Goat-herd, the wolf is coming to eat your goats!' [The wolf supposes that it has swallowed some wind that forms these words, hits itself against a stone, and after several trials gets rid of the wind and Cecino, who hides himself under a stone, so that he shall not be seen.] Three robbers passed that way with a bag of money. One of them said: 'Now I will count the money, and you others be quiet or I will kill you!' You can imagine whether they kept still! for they did not want to die. So he began to count: 'One, two, three, four, and five.' And Cecino: 'One, two, three, four, and five.' (Do you understand? He repeats the robber's words.) 'I hear you! You will not keep still. Well, I will kill you; we shall see whether you will speak again.' He began to count the money again: 'One, two, three, four, and five.' Cecino repeats: 'One, two, three, four, and five.' 'Then you will not keep quiet! now I will kill you!' and he killed one of them. 'Now we shall see whether you will talk; if you do I will kill you too.' He began to count: 'One, two, three, four, and five.' 'Take care, if I have to tell you again I will kill you!' 'Do you think I want to speak? I don't wish to be killed.' He begins to count: 'One, two, three, four, and five.' 'You will not keep quiet either; now I will kill you!' and he killed him. 'Now I am alone and can count by myself and no one will repeat it.' So he began agin to count: 'One, two, three, four, and five.' And Cecino: 'One, two, three, four, and five.' Then the robber said: 'There is some one hidden here; I had better run away or he will kill me.' So he ran away and left behind the sack of money. When Cecino perceived that there was no one there, he came out, put the bag of money on his head, and started for home. When he drew near his parents' house he cried: ''Oh, mamma, come and meet me; I have brought you a bag of money!' When his mother heard him she went to meet him and took the money and said: 'Take care you don't drown yourself in these puddles of rain-water.' The mother went home, and turned back to look for Cecino, but he was not to be seen. She told her husband what Cecino had done, and they went and searched everywhere for him, and at last found him drowned in a puddle.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Little Lasse,Finland,"Links to this story in the original Swedish: Books.google.com: Zacharias Topelius, 'Lasse liten,' Läsning för barn, book 1 (Stockholm: Albert Bonniers Förlag, 1906), pp. 255-63. Internet Archive: Zacharias Topelius, 'Lasse liten,' Läsning för barn, book 1 (Helsingfors: G. W. Edlunds Förlagsaktiebolag, 1906), pp. 255-63. Books.google.com: Zacharias Topelius, 'Lasse liten,' Läsning för barn, book 1 (Stockholm: Albert Bonniers Förlag, 1906), pp. 255-63. Internet Archive: Zacharias Topelius, 'Lasse liten,' Läsning för barn, book 1 (Helsingfors: G. W. Edlunds Förlagsaktiebolag, 1906), pp. 255-63.","Source (books.google.com): Zacharias Topelius, Fairy Tales from Finland (London: T. Fisher Unwin, 1896), pp. 95-113. Source (University of Florida Digital Collections): Zacharias Topelius, Fairy Tales from Finland (London: T. Fisher Unwin, 1896), pp. 95-113.","There was once upon a time a boy named Lars, and because he was so very little he was called 'Little Lasse.' He was a plucky boy, for once he travelled all round the world in a pea-pod boat. It was Summer-time, when the peas grew green and tall in the garden. Little Lasse crept into the pea-bed between the rows of peas, where the pea-stalks reached high above his cap, and broke off seventeen large pods, the biggest and straightest he could possibly have wished for. Little Lasse thought that no one saw him, and that was stupid, for God's eyes for God's eyes are every where. Then the Gardener came past with his gun upon his shoulder and heard some thing rustle among the peas. 'I think it must be Sparrows,' he called out. ''Sh! 'sh!' but no Sparrow flew out, for Little Lasse had no wings, only two little legs. 'Stop a a moment; I shall load my gun and shoot the Sparrows, ' said the Gardener. Then Little Lasse got frightened and crept out from the rows of peas. 'I am so sorry, Gardener, dear,' he said; 'I was only seeking some nice boats.' 'That excuse may do for this time, ' said the Gardener, ' but in future Little Lasse must ask leave if he wishes to search for ships in the pea-beds.' 'I'll do that,' answered Lasse, and off he was to the shore. There he split up his pods with a pin, slit them quite evenly, and broke up some small twigs for rowing benches. Then he took the peas which had been in the pods, and laid them as cargo in the boats. Some of the pods broke, some remained whole, and when all were ready Little Lasse had twelve boats, but they were they were never boats, they were large war-vessels. He had three ships of the line, three frigates, three brigs, and three schooners. The biggest ship of the line was called Hercules, and the smallest schooner was called The Flea. Little Lasse placed all twelve in the water, and they floated in such a stately manner that no real ship ever danced more proudly on the ocean's billows. Now the ships were to travel round the world. The big island far away there was Asia; the large stone was Africa; the little island was America; the small stones were Polynesia, and the shore from where the ships sailed was Europe. The whole fleet started and floated slowly away to the different parts of the world. The ships of the line sailed straight for Asia; the frigates sailed to Africa, the brigs to America, and the schooners to Polynesia. Little Lasse remained behind in Europe and threw small stones into the world's ocean. On the shore of Europe there was a real boat, papa's own, beautiful, white painted boat, and Little Lasse climbed into it. The pea-boats had sailed so far away, that to the eye they seemed like mere stalks of grass on the water. Little Lasse suddenly conceived a desire to row out into the world. That Papa and Mamma had certainly forbidden, but he never thought of that. 'I shall row a little bit -- just a little bit out,' thought he. 'I shall catch up the ship Hercules near the coast of Asia, and then row back to Europe again.' Little Lasse only shook the chain by which the boat was attached, so it was rather a wonder that it became unloosed. 'Ritsch, ratsch, a man is a man,' and Little Lasse shot out the boat. Now he had to row, and row he could, for he had rowed so often on the stair at home, with the stair for a boat and Papa's big stick as an oar. But when little Lasse wished to row he found there were no oars in the boat; these were kept in the boat-house, and Little Lasse had never noticed that the boat was empty. It is not so easy as one may think to row to Asia without oars. What was Little Lasse to do? The boat was now some distance out on the water, and the wind which blew from the shore was always driving it further. Little Lasse got frightened and began to cry; no one was on the shore, so no one heard him. Only a big crow sat by himself in the big birch-tree, beneath which crept the Gardener's black cat and lay in wait for the crow. No one was in the least concerned about Little Lasse, who was drifting out to sea. Ah, how sorry Little Lasse now was that he had been disobedient and got into the boat, doing what his Father and Mother had so often forbidden! Now it is too late! He will never reach land again; perhaps he may perish in the vast sea. What was he to do? When he had cried himself hoarse, and no one heard him, he clasped his little hands and said: 'Good God, do not be angry with Little Lasse!' and then he slept. In spite of the fact that it was now broad daylight, old Nukki Matti sat on the shore of Featherbed Island fishing with his long net for little children. He heard the soft words which Little Lasse had uttered; quickly he drew the boat towards him, and laid Little Lasse to sleep upon the rose-leaf beds, saying to one of his Dreamers: 'Play with Little Lasse that he may not weary!' This was addressed to a little Dream-boy, so very, very little that he was less than Lasse himself. He had blue eyes, fair hair, a red cap with silver band, and a white jacket with a pearl-trimmed collar. He came to Lasse, and said: 'Would you like to travel all round the world?' 'Yes,' said Lasse in his sleep; 'certainly I would.' 'Come then, ' said the Dream-boy, 'let us sail in your pea-ships. You shall sail in Hercules, and I'll travel on The Flea.' So they sailed away from Featherbed Island, and in a short time Hercules and The Flea were on the shores of Asia, far away at the end of the world, where the White Sea flows through Behring Straits and joins the Pacific Ocean. Far away through the winter fogs, Nordenskiold is seen, with the steamship Vega trying to find a passage through the ice. Here it was very, very cold; the mighty icebergs glistened so marvellously, the big whales were housed beneath them and tried in vain to make holes in the ice with their clumsy heads. All around the bleak shores was snow as far as the eye could reach; upon it little grey men walked about, clad in skins and drove in small sledges through the drifts, and dogs were harnessed to the sledges. 'Shall we land here?' asked the Dream-boy. 'No,' said Lasse. 'I am afraid of being swallowed up by the big whales, and the big dogs might bite us. Let us rather travel to another part of the world.' 'All right,' said the Dream-boy with the red cap and silver band; 'we are not far from America,' -- and at that moment they were there. The sun shone, and it was very hot. Tall palm-trees stood in long rows on the shore, bearing cocoanuts on their tops. Men as red as copper rode at a gallop across the vast green plains and threw their spears at buffaloes, which turned on them with their sharp horns. An enormous boaconstrictor had crept up the highest palm and threw itself down on a llama which was eating grass at the foot of the palm. In a twinkling it was all over with the little deer. 'No,' said Lasse. 'I am so afraid of being gored by the big buffaloes; and the big snake might swallow us up. Let us go to some other part of the world.' 'All right,' said the Dream-boy in the white jacket. 'We are only a short way from Polynesia' -- and as he said so, they were there. Here it was still hotter -- as hot as a Russian bath, when water has just been poured upon the stone. Here there grew upon the shore the richest spices, pepper trees, cinnamon, ginger, saffron, coffee and tea shrubs. Brown men, with long ears and thick lips and their faces hideously painted, hunted a yellow-spotted tiger among the tall bamboos on the shore, and the tiger turned round and planted its claws in one of the brown men. Then all took to flight. 'Are we going to land here?' asked the Dream-boy. 'No,' said Little Lasse. 'Don't you see the tiger over there among the pepper trees? Let us go to another part of the world.' 'That's not difficult to do,' said the Dream-boy with the blue eyes. 'We are not far from Africa' -- and as he said that they were there. They anchored at the mouth of a large river, whose banks were as green as the greenest velvet. A short distance from the river there stretched a vast sandy desert. The air was yellow, the sun burned as fiercely as if it were going to burn the earth to ashes, and the inhabitants were as black as the blackest ink. They rode on tall camels through the desert, the lions panted with thirst, and huge crocodiles with their big lizard-like heads gaped with their sharp white teeth out of the river. 'No,' said Little Lasse. 'The sun would burn us up, and the lions and crocodiles hurt us. Let us go to another part of the world.' 'We must just sail back again to Europe,' said the Dream-boy with the light hair -- and at that moment they were there. They reached a shore; it was all so cool, so familiar, so homelike. There stood the tall birch with its drooping leaves. On the top of it sat the old crow, and at the foot of it crept the Gardener's black cat. Not far off was a house which Lasse had seen before. Beside the house was a garden, and in the garden grew some rows of peas with long pea-pods. There was the old Gardener with his gardener's green hat, and he wondered if the cucumbers were ripe. There was Fylax barking on the steps, and when he saw Lasse he wagged his tail. There was old Stina milking the cows in the farmyard. There was a well-known lady, in her checked woollen shawl, watching the linen webs bleach on the green grass. There was an equally well-known gentleman in a yellow summer coat, with a long pipe in his mouth, watching the harvest workers reap the rye in the fields. There were a boy and girl jumping about on the shore, and calling out: 'Little Lasse! Little Lasse! Come in and have bread and butter!' 'Shall we land here?' asked the Dream-boy, winking so roguishly with his blue eyes. 'Come with me, and I'll ask Mamma to give you a piece of bread and butter and a glass of milk, ' said Little Lasse. 'Wait a bit,' said the Dream-boy. And now Little Lasse saw that the kitchen door stood open, and through it there issued a soft delightful hissing, as if one were pouring yellow batter from a spoon into a hot frying-pan. 'Perhaps we should return to Polynesia,' whispered the merry Dream-boy. 'No, the pancakes are frying in Europe,' said Little Lasse, trying to jump ashore, but could not, for the Dream-boy had bound him with fetters of flowers, so that to move was impossible. And now all the little Dreams surrounded him -- thousands and thousands of tiny children -- and they formed a circle round him, singing this little song: The world is so big a place, Bairnie, wee bairnie, Far bigger than thy thoughts can trace, Bairnie, wee bairnie. There are countries warm and cold, Bairnie, wee bairnie; God all things doth safely hold, People live there, great and small, Those dear to God are happy all, If God's angel thee do guide, No harm can ever thee betide, Say, where would'st thou like to rest, Bairnie, wee bairnie? The world is fair, but home is best, Bairnie, wee bairnie. When the Dreams had finished their song, they all hopped off, and Nukki Matti carried Little Lasse back to the boat. For a long time he lay quite still, and seemed to hear the pancakes frizzling over the fire at home. The frizzling became more distinct; Little Lasse seemed to hear it just beside him -- and then he awoke and opened his eyes. Then he lay in the boat, where he had fallen asleep The wind had changed, and while the boat was drifted out with one wind, it was blown back to shore with the other, while Little Lasse was sleeping. What Lasse had imagined to be the frying of pancakes was in reality the gentle ripple of the waves as they lapped against the pebbly beach. Little Lasse rubbed his sleepy eyes, and looked around him. All was as before the crow in the birch, the cat upon the grass, and the pea-pod fleet by the shore. Some of the ships had been wrecked, and some had drifted back to land. Hercules had arrived with his cargo from Asia; The Flea had returned from Polynesia, and all the divisions of the world were precisely where they were before. Little Lasse never knew exactly how it all happened. He had been so often to Featherbed Island, and yet he never knew how playful Dreams can be. He never troubled his head further to find out, but gathered his boats together, and marched up to the house. His brothers and sisters came to meet him, calling out at a dis tance: 'Where have you been all this time, Lasse? Come in and get bread and butter!' But the kitchen door stood open, and he heard a mysterious frying. The Gardener stood at the gate giving an evening watering to the parsley, dill, carrots, and turnips. 'Well,' said he, 'where have you been all this time?' Little Lasse tossed his head, looked dignified, and answered 'I have sailed all round the world in a pea-pod boat.' 'Oh ho,' said the Gardener. As for him, he had forgotten all about Featherbed Islands! But you haven't forgotten them; you know that they exist; you know their shining grotto. The glittering walls never rust, the shimmering diamonds never lose their lustre, and never does music sound so sweet as that which is heard in the grotto in the balmy evening twilight. As the bright stars never grow old, neither do the light airy Dreams in the halls of Feather bed Island. Perhaps you have caught a glimpse of their delicate wings as they flew around your pillow? Perhaps you have met the same Dream-boy with the blue eyes and the fair hair, he who wears a red cap with silver band, and the white jacket with pearls on the collar? Perhaps he has also shown you the different countries and peoples in the world, the chilly wastes and burning deserts, the many-coloured men and wild animals in forest and sea, so that you may learn something; but return gladly to your home? Yes, who knows? Perhaps you also have travelled all round the world in a pea-pod boat? Links to this story in the original Swedish:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,New History of the Life and Adventures of Tom Thumb,USA -- Connecticut,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): Sidney Babcock, New History of the Life and Adventures of Tom Thumb (New Haven: S. Babcock, 1849).","His shirt was made of a butterfly's wing, His boots were made of a mouse's skin, His coat was wove of thistle down, An oak-leaf hat he had for his crwn, A tailor's needle hung by his side, And a mouse for a horse he used to ride. When I was a little boy, children's books were not quite as plenty, or as cheap, or as good as they are now. In those days, children did not often have a present of a pretty book with beautiful pictures; but when they did get one, it was highly prized. We had Cock Robin, and Jack the Giant Killer, and Blue Beard, and The Forty Thieves, and many other amusing but not very instructive tales. Tom Thumb was one of the number, and was a favorite book of mine, although I knew the story was not true, and that there were no such beings as magicians and fairies. Perhaps my little readers would like to know what kind of stories we old folks read when we were such little bodies as you are now. I think I remember enough of Tom Thumb to be able to tell you the story. Once on a time, Merlin, a famous magician, was traveling, and beincr weary, he stopped at a plowman's cottage to ask for some refreshment. The plowman's wife kindly brought him a bowl of milk, and a wooden plate of good brown bread, which she urged him to partake of. Merlin could not help seeing, that the honest couple looked quite sad and sorrowful; so he asked the cause, and learned that they had no children; the wife declaring, with tears in her eyes, that she should be happy if she had a son, even if he were no bigger than his father's thumb! Merlin was much amused with the idea of a boy no bigger than a man's thumb, and sending for the queen of the fairies, he told her of the desire of the plowman's wife. The queen was no less pleased than Merlin, and she said the wish should be granted. Accordingly, the plowman's wife had a son, who was just the size of his father's thumb, and was named by the queen, Tom Thumb. One dav his mother was making a pudding, and that he might see how it w r as made, Tom climbed on the top of the bowl; but his foot happening to slip, he fell over head and ears into it, and his mother not seeing him, she stirred him into the batter, and then popped the whole into the pot. The hot water made Tom kick and struggle, and his mother, seeing the pudding jump up and down in the pot, thought it w r as bewitched. A pedlar going by at that moment, she gave him the pudding, which he put in his pack and then walked on. As soon as Tom could get the batter out of his mouth, he began to cry out. This so frightened the pedler that he flung the pudding over a fence, and took to his heels. The pudding was broken by the fall, and poor Tom crawled out and ran home. Tom never was any bigger; but as he grew older be grew cunning and sly. When he played with boys for cherry-stones, and had lost his own, he used to creep into his playmates' bags, fill his pockets, and come out to play again. One day, as he was doing this, the owner chanced to see him. 'Ah, ha, my little Tom,' said he, 'I have caught you at last; now I will punish you for stealing.' So he drew the bag-string tight about his neck, and then shaking the bag, Tom's legs and thighs were so sadly bruised, that he was thrown into a raging fever. Just at this time the queen of the faires came in a coach drawn by six flying mice, and placing Tom by her side, drove through the air to her palace in fairy land, where she kept him till he was restored to health. Then, taking advantage of a fair wind, she blew him straight to the court of King Arthur. But just as Tom was about to land in the palace-yard, the king's cook happened to pass with a huge bowl of soup, into which Tom fell plump, and splashed the hot soup all in the cook's face and eyes. 'Oh, dear! Oh, dear!' cried Tom, half scalded and half drowned in his hot bath. 'Murder! murder! murder!' bellowed the cook, who was a cross, red-faced old fellow, and supposed Tom had done all this mischief on purpose. Determined to be revenged on the little fellow for the imaginary insult, he urged his brother, who was a miller, and as cross and cruel as himself, to take little Tom home with him, and put him where he could do no more mischief. Accordingly, the miller pocketed Tom, and carrying him to his mill, dropped him from a window into the river. But Tom was not born to be drowned. A large salmon swimming by at that moment, caught him in its mouth and swallowed him without any trouble. The salmon was soon caught, and being a fine large fish, was presented to the king, who ordered it to be dressed immediately. When it was cut open, every body was delighted to see little Tom Thumb step out. He soon became the favorite of the king, who knighted him, and gave him a little golden palace to live in, and also a tiny coach, which was drawn by six white mice. King Arthur one day questioned Tom about his parents, and Tom informed his majesty that they were worthy people, but very poor. Then the king led him into his treasury, and showing him the piles of gold and silver, told him he might pay his parents a visit, and take with him as much money as he could carry! Accordingly, Tom procured a little purse, and putting a sixpence into it, he with much labor and difficulty got the purse upon his back and started for home. His mother met him at the door, where he arrived almost tired to death, having traveled nearly half a mile, with a huge sixpence on his back. His parents were delighted to see him, especially as he brought such an amazing sum of money. Tom remained at home for some time; but at last getting weary of his humble life, he watched for an opportunity to reach King Arthur's court again. One day he sauntered out into the fields, and seeing a butterfly seated on the ground, he ventured to get astride of him. The butterfly soon took wing, and mounting into the air with Tom on his back, flew from field to field, till at last he reached the king's court. The king, queen, and nobles, all tried to catch the butterfly, but could not. At last poor Tom, having no saddle or bridle, slipped off and tumbled into a watering-pot, where he was nearly drowned before he could be taken out. But he soon recovered from this mishap, and once more became the pride and ornament of King Arthur's court. At last, a huge spider one day attacked him, and though he drew his sword and fought well, yet the spider's poisonous breath at last overcame him. King Arthur and his whole court went into mourning for little Tom Thumb. They buried him under a rose-bush, and raised a white marble monument over his grave, with this epitaph on it, in letters of gold: Here lies Tom Thumb, a gallant knight, Who died by a cruel spider's bite. He was well known in King Arthur's court, Where he afforded pleasant sport; Alive, he filled the court with mirth; His death to general grief gave birth. Good people, tears of sorrow shed, And cry, Alas! Sir Tom is dead! Now, my little readers, which do you like best, -- true stories, moral and instructive stories, or stories like the wonderful adventures of TOM THUMB?",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Robber Nut,Albania,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Johann Georg von Hahn, 'Der Räuber Nuß,' Griechische und albanesische Märchen, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1864), no. 99, pp. 115-16. Source (Internet Archive): Johann Georg von Hahn, 'Der Räuber Nuß,' Griechische und albanesische Märchen, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1864), no. 99, pp. 115-16.","Once upon a time there lived an old man and an old woman to whom God had given no children. They asked about this here and there, and finally someone said to them: 'If you want to have children there is no other way but to take a bladder and blow into it for twenty days and twenty nights. If you do so, you will find a child in the bladder.' They did just that, and after twenty days they found a boy in the bladder. He was just as large as a nut. They took him out, dressed him, and fed him, but he did not grow any larger. At the age of fifteen he was still the size of a nut. One day they sent him out to the field to plow with the oxen. He jumped onto the front of the plow and steered the oxen. Three robbers came by. Thinking that the oxen were unattended (for they didn't see the boy), they began to remove their yoke. The boy hit their hands with his goad. At first they were frightened, but then they paid closer attention and saw him sitting on the plow. They took him with them and went to steal the priest's oxen. Arriving at the priest's house they let the boy through a crack in the door, for he was only as large as a nut. Once inside he opened the door for them. They took the oxen and escaped. He too became a robber, and no other robber was his equal. He was called Robber Nut, and the whole world was afraid of him. However, in the end he drowned in a river.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Svend Tomling,Denmark,Kristensen's source: S. P. Jensen.,"Source (books.google.com): Evald Tang Kristensen, ed., 'Svend Tomling,' Skattegraveren: Et Tidsskrift, no. 22 (November 15, 1889), no. 682, pp. 165-67. Source (Internet Archive): Evald Tang Kristensen, ed., 'Svend Tomling,' Skattegraveren: Et Tidsskrift, no. 22 (November 15, 1889), no. 682, pp. 165-67.","There was a couple here in Jutland who had a good farm, but they had no children. The wife was very distressed about this. She thought it was terrible that in their old age she and her husband should be cared for by outsiders. One day a beggarwoman came and said, 'I think that you are troubled. What is wrong with you?' 'Oh, I'm very concerned, because we have no children.' 'I'll give you some good advice,' said the beggarwoman. 'You should cut off your big toe, wrap it in cotton, and put it in a black pot, and then tomorrow you shall have a son. He will stay very small, but small and clever is much better than a big and stupid.' The strange woman went away, and the next day the couple had a little son. He was very small, and his mother gave him the name Svend Tomling. When the child was eight days old, his mother was making pancakes for her husband who was out in the field plowing. 'May I take the pancakes out to my father?' asked Svend from his bed. 'What! Can you talk, my boy? You've learned to talk very early; but no, you're still too little to go out to the field.' But it was no use. Svend wanted to go out. He took the pancakes and a bottle of beer in his hand and walked out to the field to his father. The man was very surprised when he saw his son coming with food. 'You stay here in the grass until I go home,' he said, 'because you are too little to come into the plowed furrows. You would get completely lost in the soil.' 'No, I want to sit up in the horse's ear. That is a good place for me,' said Svend Tomling. Then he got up there and shouted, 'Giddyup, giddyup! Forward!' A fine gentleman came driving by on the road, and he had his driver stop. He asked the plowman about the strange horse he had that was able to talk. 'It's not the horse,' said the man. 'It's my little son. He's sitting in the horse's ear.' 'Can I buy that son?' asked the gentleman. 'No, I want to keep him.' 'Sell me, father! Sell me, father!' shouted Svend. So his father sold him, and he got a good price for him. Svend sat in the back of the carriage on a chest that was filled with money. As they drove on, he began to throw the money out of the chest, one coin after the other, and Svend's father ran behind and picked them up. When there was no more money in the chest, Svend jumped out of it onto the road. He could not find his way home, so he just lay there on the road. That night some thieves came by, talking about how they wanted to steal some cheese from the deacon. 'Take me with you! Take me with you!' shouted Svend. The thieves were startled, but then they found him, and one thief picked him up and put him in his vest pocket. When they got to the deacon's, Svend went up into the loft to take the cheeses down. 'Do you want them hard or soft, sour or sweet?' shouted Svend Tomling. The shouting awakened the deacon. He came out, and the thieves ran away. The deacon went up into the loft, and Svend was also frightened. He hid in a bundle of straw. The next morning the deacon took the bundle of straw where Svend was hiding, and fed it to the cow. Later, the deacon's maidservent was milking the cow, but she came running in saying that there was a ghost in the cow, because it could talk. The deacon could not believe this, and said that he himself would milk the cow. When the deacon started milking, Svend Tomling shouted, 'Steady now, steady now! Keep trying, and the bucket will soon be full!' This startled the deacon, and he swore that the cow should be slaughtered. This was done, and the entrails were thrown out onto the manure pile. That night a fox came and started to eat the entrails. 'Will you soon be finished, Reynard?' cried Svend. This scared the fox, and it ran away. Then a mangy old dog came by and began to drag off the entrails. Svend shouted again, 'Keep trying, you old snowman.' This frightend the dog, and it dropped the entrails. And then Svend ran home to his father.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,The Comical and Merry Tricks of Tom Thumb,"Scotland, 1820",NA,"Source (books.google.com): The Comical and Merry Tricks of Tom Thumb, the Wonderful (Paisley: G. Caldwell, [ca. 1810]).","This famous magician, who could assume any form he pleased, was travelling in the disguise of a poor beggar, and being very much fatigued, he stopped at the cottage of an honest ploughman to rest himself, and asked for some refreshment. The countryman gave him a hearty welcome, and his wife, who was a very good-hearted, hospitable woman, soon brought him some milk in a wooden bowl, and some coarse brown bread on a platter. Merlin was much pleased with this homely repast, and the kindesss of the ploughman and his wife; but he could not help observing, that though every thing was neat and comfortable in the cottage, they seemed both to be very dispirited and unhappy. He therefore questioned them on the cause of their melancholy, and learned that they were miserable, because they had no children. The poor woman declared, with tears in her eyes, that she should be the happiest creature in the world, if she had a son; and although he was no bigger than her husband's thumb, she would be quite satisfied. Merlin was so much amused with the idea of a boy no bigger than a man's thumb, that he determined to pay a visit to the queen of the fairies, and request her to gratify the wishes of the poor woman. When he had accomplished his journey, Merlin thought on the kind treatment he had received at the cottage, and the comical whim of the little man again suggested itself; and, being on an intimate footing with Queen Mab, he told her the purpose of his visit, and requested her to grant the desire of the countryman's wife. The droll fancy of such a little personage among the human race pleased the queen of the fairies exceedingly and she told Merlin that the wish of the poor woman should be granted. Accordingly, in a short time after, the ploughman's wife was safely delivered of a son, who, wonderful to relate! was not a bit bigger than his father's thumb. The fairy queen, who had taken an interest in the little fellow, came in at the window while the mother was sitting up in the bed admiring him. The queen kissed the child, and, giving it the name of Tom Thumb, sent for some of the fairies, who dressed her little favourite according to the instructions she gave them: One day, however, as he was coming out of a bag of cherry-stones, where he had been pilfering as usual, the boy to whom it belonged chanced to see him. 'Ah, ha! my little Tommy,' said the boy, 'so I have caught you stealing my cherry-stones at last, and you shall be rewarded for your thievish tricks.' On saying this, he drew the string tight round his neck, and gave the bag such a hearty shake, that poor little Tom's legs, thighs and body, were sadly bruised. He roared out with pain, and begged to be let out, promising never to be guilty of such bad practices again. A short time afterwards, his mother was making a batter-pudding, and Tom, being very anxious to see how it was made, climbed up to the edge of the bowl; but, unfortunately, his foot slipped, and he plumped over head and ears into the batter, unobserved by his mother, who stirred him into the pudding bag, and put him in the pot to boil. The batter had filled Tom's mouth, and prevented him from crying; but, on feeling the hot water, he kicked and struggled so much in the pot, that his mother thought that the pudding was bewitched, and, instantly pulling it out of the pot, she threw it to the door. A poor tinker, who was passing by, lifted up the pudding, and, putting it into his budget, he then walked off. As Tom had now got his mouth cleared of the batter, he then began to cry aloud, which so frightened the tinker, that he flung down the pudding, and ran away. The pudding being broke to pieces by the fall, Tom crept out covered over with the batter, and with difficulty walked home. His mother, who was very sorry to see her darling in such a woful state, put him into a tea-cup, and soon washed off the batter; after which she kissed him, and laid him in bed. Soon after the adventure of the pudding, Tom's mother went to milk her cow in the meadow, and she took him along with her. As the wind was very high, for fear of being blown away, she tied him to a thistle with a piece of fine thread. The cow soon observed the oak-leaf hat, and, liking the appearance of it, took poor Tom and the thistle at one mouthful. While the cow was chewing the thistle, Tom was afraid of her great teeth, which threatened to crush him in pieces, and he roared out as loud as he could, 'Mother, mother!' 'Where are you, Tommy, my dear Tommy?' said his mother. 'Here, mother,' replied he, 'in the red cow's mouth.' His mother began to cry and wring her hands; but the cow, surprised at the odd noise in her throat, opened her mouth, and let Tom drop out. Fortunately his mother caught him in her apron as he was falling to the ground, or he would have been dreadfully hurt. She then put Tom in her bosom and ran home with him. Tom's father made him a whip of a barley-straw to drive the cattle with, and having one day gone into the fields, he slipped a foot and rolled into the furrow. A raven, which was flying over, picked him up, and flew with him to the top of a giant's castle that was near the sea-side, and there left him. Tom was in a dreadful state, and did not know what to do; but he was soon more dreadfully frightened; for old Grumbo the giant came up to walk on the terrace, and observing Tom, he took him up and swallowed him like a pill. The giant had no sooner swallowed Tom, than he began to repent what he had done; for Tom began to kick and jump about so much, that he felt very uncomfortable, and at last threw him up again into the sea. A large fish swallowed Tom the moment he fell into the sea, which was soon after caught, and bought for the table of King Arthur. When they opened the fish in order to cook it, every one was astonished at finding such a little boy, and Tom was quite delighted at regaining his liberty. They carried him to the king, who made Tom his dwarf, and he soon grew a great favourite at court; for, by his tricks and gambols, he not only amused the king and queen, but also all the knights of the Round Table. It is said, that when the king rode out on horseback, he frequently took Tom along with him; and if a shower came on, he used to creep into his majesty's waistcoat-pocket, where he slept till the rain was over. King Arthur one day interrogated Tom about his parents, wishing to know if they were as small as him, and what circumstances they were in. Tom told the king that his father and mother were as tall as any of the persons about court, but in rather poor circumstances. On hearing this, the king carried Tom to his, treasury, the place where he kept all bis money, and told him to take as much money as he could carry home to his parents, which made the poor little fellow caper with joy. Tom went immediately to procure a purse, which was made of a water-bubble, and then returned to the treasury, where he received a silver threepenny-piece to put into it. Our little hero had some difficulty in lifting the burden upon his back; but he at last succeeded in getting it placed to his mind, and set forward on his journey. However, without meeting with any accident, and after resting himself more than a hundred times by the way, in two days and two nights he reached his father's house in safety. Tom had travelled forty-eight hours with a huge silver piece on his back, and was almost tired to death, when his mother ran out to meet him, and carried him in to the house. Tom's parents were both happy to see him, and the more so, as he had brought such an amazing sum of money with him; but the poor little fellow was excessively wearied, having travelled half a mile in forty-eight hours, with a huge silver threepenny-piece on his back. His mother, in order to recover him from the fatigue he bad undergone, placed him in a walnut-shell by the fireside, and feasted him for three days on a hazel-nut, which made him very sick; for a whole nut used to serve him a month. Tom soon recovered; but as there had been a fall of rain, and the ground very wet, he could not travel back to King Arthur's court; therefore his mother, one day when the wind was blowing in that direction, made a little parasol of cambric paper, and tying Tom to it, she gave him a puff into the air with her mouth, which soon carried him to the king's palace. The king, queen, and all the nobility, were happy to see Tom again at court, where he delighted them by his dexterity at tilts and tournaments; but his exertions to please them cost him very dear, and brought on such a severe fit of illness that his life was despaired of. However, the queen of the fairies, hearing of his indisposition came to court in a chariot drawn by flying mice, and placing Tom by her side, drove through the air without stopping till they arrived at her palace. After restoring him to health and permitting him to enjoy all the gay diversion of Fairy-Land, the queen commanded a strong current of air to arise, on which she placed Tom, who floated upon it like a cork in the water, and sent him instantly to the royal palace of King Arthur. Just at the time when Tom came flying across the court-yard of the palace; the cook happened to be passing with the king's great bowl of furmenty, which was a dish his majesty was very fond of; but unfortunately the poor little fellow fell plump into the middle of it and splashed the hot furmenty about the cook's face. The cook, who was an ill-natured fellow, being in a terrable rage at Tom for frightening and scalding him with the furmenty, went straight to the king, and represented that Tom had jumped into the royal furmenty, and thrown it down out of mere mischief. The king was so enraged when he heard this, that he ordered. Tom to be seized and tried for ligh treason; and there being no person who dared to plead for him, he was condemned to be beheaded immediately. On hearing this dreadful sentence pronounced, poor Tom fell a-trembling with fear, but, seeing no means of escape, and observing a miller close to him gaping with his great mouth, as country boobies do at a fair, he took a leap, and fairly jumped down his throat. This exploit was done with such activity, that not one person present saw it, and even the miller did not know the trick which Tom had played upon him. Now, as Tom had disappeared, the court broke up, and the miller went home to his mill. When To? heard the mill at work, he knew he was clear of the court, and therefore he began to tumble and roll about, so that the poor miller could get no rest, thinking he was bewitched; so he sent for a doctor. When the doctor came, Tom began to dance and sing; and the doctor being as much frightened as the miller, sent in haste for five other doctors and twenty learned men. When they were debating upon the cause of this extraordinary occurrence, the miller happened to yawn, when Tom embracing the opportunity, made another jump, and alighted safely upon his feet on the middle of the table. The miller, who was very much provoked at being tormented by such a little pigmy creature, fell into a terrible rage, and, laying hold of Tom, he then opened she window, and threw him into the river. At the moment the miller let Tom drop a large salmon, swimming along at the time, saw him fall, and snapped him up in a minute. A fisherman caught the salmon, and sold it in the market to the steward of a great lord. The nobleman, on seeing the fish, thought it so uncommonly fine, that he made a present of it to King Arthur, who ordered it to be dressed immediately. When the cook cut open the fish, he found poor Tom, and run to the king with him; but his majesty being engaged with state affairs, ordered him to be taken away, and kept in custody till he sent for him. The cook was determined that Tom should not slip out of his hands this time, so he put him into a mousetrap, and left him to peep through the wires. Tom had remained in the trap a whole week, when he was sent for by King Arthur, who pardoned him for throwing down the furmenty, and took him again into favour. On account of his wonderful feats of activity Tom was knighted by the king, and went under the name of the renowned Sir Thomas Thumb. As Tom's clothes had suffered much in the batter-pudding, the furmenty, and the insides of the giant, miller, and fishes, his majesty ordered him a new suit of clothes, and to be mounted as a knight: One day, as they were riding by a farm-house, a large cat, which was lurking about the door, made a spring, and seized both Tom and his mouse. She then ran up a tree with them, and was beginning to devour the mouse; but Tom boldly drew his sword, and attacked the cat so fiercely, that she let them both fall, when one of the nobles caught him in his hat, and laid him on a bed of down, in a little ivory cabinet. The queen of the fairies came soon after to pay Tom a visit, and carried him back to Fairy-Land, where he remained several years. During his residence there, King Arthur, and all the persons who knew Tom, had died; and as he was desirous of being again at court, the fairy queen, after dressing him in a suit of clothes, sent him flying through the air to the palace, in the days of King Thunstone, the successor of Arthur. Every one flocked round to see him, and being carried to the king, he was asked who he was -- whence he came -- and where he lived? Tom answered: The queen was so enraged at the honours conferred on Sir Thomas, that she resolved to ruin him, and told the king that the little knight had been saucy to her. The king sent for Tom in great haste but being fully aware of the danger of royal anger, he crept into an empty snail shell, where he lay for a considerable time, until he was almost starved with hunger; but at last he ventured to peep out, and perceiving a fine large butterfly on the ground, near the place of his concealment, he approached very cautiously, and getting himself placed astride on it, was immediately carried up into the air. The butterfly few with him from tree to tree and from field to field, and at last returned to the court, where the king and nobility all strove to catch him; but at last Tom fell from his seat into a wateringpot, in which he was almost drowned. When the queen, saw him, she was in a rage, and said he should be beheaded; and he was again put into a mousetrap until the time of his execution. However, a cat observing something alive in the trap, patted it about till the wires broke, and set Thomas at liberty. The king received Tom again into favour, which he did not live to enjoy; for a large spider one day attacked him, and although he drew his sword and fought well, yet the spider's poisonous breath at last overcame him:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,The Famous History of Tom Thumb,"England, 1775","Links to books two and three in this series: The Famous History of Tom Thumb. Wherein is declared, His Marvellous Acts of Manhood Full of wonderful Merriment. Performed after his first Return from Fairy Land, Part the Second (London, 1775). The History of Tom Thumb. Wherein is declared His Marvellous Acts of Manhood, Full of Wonder and Merriment. Performed after his second Return from Fairy Land, Part the Third (London, 1775). The Famous History of Tom Thumb. Wherein is declared, His Marvellous Acts of Manhood Full of wonderful Merriment. Performed after his first Return from Fairy Land, Part the Second (London, 1775). The History of Tom Thumb. Wherein is declared His Marvellous Acts of Manhood, Full of Wonder and Merriment. Performed after his second Return from Fairy Land, Part the Third (London, 1775).","Source (books.google.com): The Famous History of Tom Thumb, Wherein Is Declared His Marvellous Acts of Manhood: Full of Wonderful Merriment, Part the First (London, 1775).","Of the Parentage, Birth, and Education of Tom Thumb; with all the merry Pranks he played in his Childhood In Arthur's court Tom Thumb did live, A man of miccle might, Who was the best of the table round, And eke a worthy knight. In stature but an inch in height, Or quarter of a span, How think you that this worthy knight Was prov'd a valiant man? His father was a ploughman plain; His mother milk'd the cow, And yet the way to get a son This couple knew not how. Until the time the good old man To learned Merlin goes, And there to him in deep distress, In secret manner shews, How in his heart he'd wish to have A child in time to come, To be his heir, tho' it might be No bigger than his thumb. Of this old Merlin then foretold How he his wish should have, And a son of stature small, This charm unto him gave: No blood nor bones in him should be, His shape, at being such, That he should hear him speak, but not His wandering shadow touch. But unseen to overcome, Whereas it pleased him, Begat and born in half an hour, For to fit his father's will. And is four minutes grew so fast, When he became as tall, As was the ploughman's thumb in length, And so she did him call Tom thumb, the which the fair queen Did give him to his name, Who with her train of goblins grim, Unto the christening came. When they cloathed him so fine and gay, In garments rich and fair, All which did serve him many years, In seemly sort to wear. His hat made of an oaken loaf, His shirt a spider's web, Both light and soft for his fine limbs, Which were so smally bred. His hose and doublet thistle down, Together weav'd full fine, And stockings of the apple green, Made out of the outer rhine. His garters were two little hairs, Pluck'd from his mother's eye, His shoes made of a mouse's skin, And tann'd most curiously. Thus like a valiant gallant, he Did venture forth to go, With other children in the street; His pretty pranks to shew. Where for counters, pins, and points, And cherry stones did play, Till he amongst the gamesters young Had lost his stock away. Yet he could not the same renew, When as most nimbly he, Would dive into their cherry bags, So their partakers be. Unseen or felt by any one, Until a scholar shut The nimble youth into a box, Wherein his pins were put. Of whom to be reveng'd he took, In mirth and pleasant game, Black pots and glasses, which he hung Upon a light sun beam. The other boys did do the same, In pieces tore him quite, For which they were severely whipt, For which he laugh'd outright. And so Tom Thumb restrained was From this his sport and play, And by his mother after that Compell'd at home to stay. Where about Christmas time His mother a hog had kill'd, And Tom would see the pudding made, For fear it fhould be spoil'd. Of Tom's falling into the Pudding Bowl, and his Escape out of the Tinker's Budget He set the candle for to light Upon the pudding bowl, Of which there is unto this day A pretty story told. For Tom fell in, and could not be For some time after found, For in the blood and batter he Was lost, and almost drown'd. And she not knowing of the same, Directly after that, Into the pudding stir'd her son, Instead of minced fat, Now this pudding of the largest size, Into the kettle thrown, Made all the rest to jump about, As with a whirlwind blown. Bue it so tumbled up and down, Within the liquor there, As if the devil had been boil'd, Such was the mother's fear. That up she took the pudding strait, And gave it at the door Unto a tinker, which from thence He in his budget bore. But as the Tinker climb'd the stile, He chanc'd to let a crack, How! good old man, cry'd Tom Thumb, Still hanging at his back. At which the tinker began to run, He would no longer stay, But cast both bag and pudding too Over the hedge way. From whence poor Tom got loose at last, He home return'd again, And from great dangers long In safety did remain. Until fuch time his mother went A milking of her kine, Where Tom unto a thistle fast She linked with a line. Of Tom Thumb's being tied to a Thistle, and of his Mother's Cow eating him up; with his strange Deliverance out of the Cow's Belly A thread that held him to the same, For fear the blustring wind Would blow him thence, so as she might Her son in safety find. But mark the hap, a cow came by, And up the thistle eat, Poor Tom withal, who on a dock, Was made the red cow's meat. But being miss'd his mother went, Calling him every where, Where art thou Tom, where art thou? Quoth he, here mother, here; In the red cow's belly here, Your son is swallow'd up, All which within her fearful heart Much woeful dolar put. Mean time the cow was troubl'd sore In this her rumbling womb, Had backwards cast Tom Thumb. Now all besmeared as he was, His mother took him up, Now home to bear him hence, poor lad, She in her apron put. Tom Thumb is carried away by a Raven, and swallowed up by a Giant, with several other strange Things that befel him. Now after this, in sowing time, His father would him have Into the field to drive the plough And therewithal him gave A whip made of a barley straw, For to drive the cattle on, There in a furrow'd land new sown, Poor Tom was lost and gone. Now by a raven of great strength Away poor Tom was born, And carried in a carrion's beak, Just like a grain of corn, Unto a giant's castle top, Whereon he let him fall, And soon the giant swallow'd up His body, cloaths, and all. But in his belly did Tom Thumb So great a rumbling make, That neither night nor day he could The smallest quiet take, Until the giant him had spew'd Full three miles in the sea, Where a large fish soon took him up, And bore him thence away. The lusty fish was after caught, So to King Arthur sent, Where Tom was kept, being a dwarf, Until his time was spent. Long time he liv'd in jollity, Beloved of the court, And none like Tom was so esteem'd Among the better sort. Tom Thumb, by the Command of King Arthur, dances a Galliard upon the Queen's left Hand. Among the deeds of courtship done His highness did command, That he should dance a galliard brave, Upon the queen's left hand. All which he did, and for the same, Our king his signet gave, Which Tom about his middle wore, Long time a girdle brave. Behold it was a rich reward, And given by the King, Which to his praise and worthiness Did lasting honour bring. For while he lived in the court, His pleasant pranks were seen, And he, according to report, Was favour'd by the queen. Tom rides a hunting with the King. Now after that the King he would Abroad for pleasure go, Yet still Tom Thumb must be with him, Plac'd on his saddle bow. And on a time when as it rain'd, Tom Thumb most nimbly crept Into his button-hole, where He in his bosom slept. And being near his Highness's heart, Did crave a wealthy boon, A noble gift, the which the King Commanded should be done. For to relieve his father's wants, And mother's, being old, It was as much of silver coin As well his arms could hold. And so away goes lusty Tom, With three pence at his back, A heavy burthen, which did make His very bones to crack. So travelling two days and nights, In labour and great pain, He came unto the house whereat His parents did remain.. Which was but half a mile in space From good King Arthur's court, All this in eight and forty hours He went in weary sort. But coming to his father's door, He there such entrance had, As made his both rejoice, And he thereat was glad. So his mother in her apron put Her gentle son in haste, And by the fire side within A wallnut shell him plac'd. And then they feasted him three days Upon a hazel nut, On which he rioted long, And them to charges put. And thereupon grew wonderous sick, In eating so much meat, That was sufficient for a month For this great man to eat. So when his business call'd him forth, King Arthur's court to see, From which no longer Tom, 'tis said. He could a stranger be. But a few moist April drops, That settled on the way, His long and weary journey Did hinder and so stay, Until this careful mother took A birding trunk in sport, And with one blaft blew this her son Into King Arthur's court. Of Tom's running a Tilt, with other Exercises performed by him. Thus he at tilt and tournament Was entertained so, That all the rest of Arthur's knights Did him much pleasure shew. And good Sir Launcelot du Lake, Sir Tristram and Sir Guy, Yet none compar'd to brave Tom Thumb, In acts of cavalry In honour of which noble day, And for his Lady's sake, A challenge in King Arthur's court Tom Thumb did bravely make. Gainst whom the noble knights did run, Sir Kihon and the rest, But yet Tom Thumb with all his might Did bear away the best. Sir Launcelot du Lake at last In manly sort came in, So with this stout and hardy knight A battle did begin. Which made the courtiers all aghaft, For there this valiant man, Thro' Lancelot's steed, before them all, With nimble manner ran. Yea horse and all, with spear and shield, As hardly e'er was seen, Bur only by King Arthur's self, And his beloved Queen, Who from her finger took a ring, Thro' which he did make away. Not touching it in simple sort, As it had been in play. He also cleft the smallest hair, From the fair lady's head, From hurting her whose even hand Him lasting honours bred. Such were his deeds, and noble acts In Arthur's court were shewn, The like in all the world beside Before was never seen. Tom is taken Sick, and dies. Thus at his sports Tom toil'd himself, That he a Sickness took, Thro' all which manly exercise His strength had him forsook. Where lying on a bed sore sick, King Arthur's doctors came, By cunning skill and physic's art, To ease and cure the same. He being both slender and tall, The cunning doctors took A fine perspective glass, with which They took a careful look, Into his sickly body down, And there they saw that death Stood ready in his wasted guts, To seize his vital breath. His arms and legs consum'd as small As was a spider's web, Thro' which his dying hours flew, And all his limbs were dead. His face no bigger than an ant's, Which hardly could be seen, The loss of this renowned knight Much griev'd the king and Queen. And so with grief and quietness He left the earth below, And up into the fairy land, His fading ghost did go. Where the fairy queen receiv'd With heavy mournful cheer, The body of this valiant Knight, Whom she esteem'd so dear. For with her flying nymphs in green, She took him from his bed, With music sweet and melody, As soon as life was fled. For whom King Arthur and his Knights Full forty years did mourn, In the remembrance of his name, That strangely thus was born. He built a tomb of marble grey, And year by year did come, To celebrate the mournful day, And burial of Tom Thumb. Whose fame lives here in England still, Amongst the country sort, Of whom the wives and children dear Tell pretty tales in sport. But here's a wonder come at last, Which some will scarce believe, After two hundred years were past, He did new life receive. The fair Queen she lov'd him so, As you shall understand, That once again she let him go Down from the fairy land. The very time that he return'd Unto the court again, It was, as we are well assur'd, In good King Arthur's reign. Where in the presence of the King He many wonders wrought, Recited in the Second Part, Which now is to be bought In Long-lane, Smithfield, They sell fine Histories many, With pleasant tales as e'er were told, For purchase of One Penny. Links to books two and three in this series:",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,"The Little Spirit, or Boy-Man",Native American,NA,"Source (books.google.com): Henry Rowe Schoolcraft and Cornelius Mathews, The Indian Fairy Book: From the Original Legends (New York: Pubished by Mason Brothers, 1856), no. 15, pp. 179-89. Source (Internet Archive): Henry Rowe Schoolcraft and Cornelius Mathews, The Indian Fairy Book: From the Original Legends (New York: Pubished by Mason Brothers, 1856), no. 15, pp. 179-89.","In a little lodge at a beautiful spot on a lake shore, alone with his sister, lived a boy remarkable for the smallness of his stature. Many large rocks were scattered around their habitation, and it had a very wild and out-of-the-way look. The boy grew no larger as he advanced in years, and yet, small as he was, he had a big spirit of his own, and loved dearly to play the master in the lodge. One day in winter he told his sister to make him a ball to play with, as he meant to have some sport along the shore on the clear ice. When she handed him the ball, his sister cautioned him not to go too far. He laughed at her, and posted off in high glee, throwing his ball before him and running after it at full speed, and he went as fast as his ball. At last his ball flew to a great distance; he followed as fast as he could. After he had run forward for some time, he saw what seemed four dark spots upon the ice, straight before him. When he came up to the shore he was surprised to see four large, tall men, lying on the ice, spearing fish. They were four brothers, who looked exactly alike. As the little boy-man approached them, the nearest looked up, and in his turn he was surprised to see such a tiny being, and turning to his brothers, he said: 'Tia! look! see what a little fellow is here.' The three others thereupon looked up too, and seeing these four faces, as if they had been one, the little spirit or boy-man said to himself: 'Four in one! What a time they must have in choosing their hunting-shirts!' After they had all stared for a moment at the boy, they covered their heads, intent in searching for fish. The boy thought to himself: 'These four-faces fancy that I am to be put off without notice because I am so little, and they are so broad and long. They shall find out. I may find a way to teach them that I am not to be treated so lightly.' After they were covered up, the boy-man, looking sharply about, saw that among them they had caught one large trout, which was lying just by their side. Stealing along, he slyly seized it, and placing his fingers in the gills, and tossing his ball before him, he ran off at full speed. They heard the pattering of his little steps upon the ice, and when the four looked up all together, they saw their fine trout sliding away, as if of itself, at a great rate, the boy being so small that he could not be distinguished from the fish. 'See!' they cried out, 'our fish is running away on the dry land!' When they stood up they could just see, over the fish's head, that it was the boy-man who was carrying it off. The little spirit reached the lodge, and having left the trout at the door, he told his sister to go out and bring in the fish he had brought home. She exclaimed, 'Where could you have got it? I hope you have not stolen it.' 'Oh,' he replied, 'I found it on the ice. It was caught in our lake. Have we no right to a little lake of our own? I shall claim all the fish that come out of its waters.' 'How,' the sister asked again,' could you have got it there?' 'No matter,' said the boy; go and cook it.' It was as much as the girl could do to drag the great trout within doors. She cooked it, and its flavor was so delicious that she asked no more questions as to how he had come by it. The next morning the little spirit or boy-man set off as he had the day before. He made all sorts of sport with his ball as he frolicked along -- high over his head he would toss it, straight up into the air; then far before him, and again, in mere merriment of spirit, he would send it bounding back, as if he had plenty of speed and enough to spare in running back after it. And the ball leaped and bounded about, and glided through the air as if it were a live thing, and enjoyed the sport as much as the boy-man himself. When he came within hail of the four large men, who were fishing there every day, he cast his ball with such force that it rolled into the ice-hole about which they were busy. The boy, standing on the shore of the lake, called out: 'Four-in-One, pray hand me my ball. 'No, indeed,' they answered, setting up a grim laugh which curdled their four dark faces all at once, 'we shall not;' and with their fishing-spears they thrust the ball under the ice. 'Good!' said the boy-man, 'we shall see.' Saying which he rushed upon the four brothers and thrust them at one push into the water. His ball bounded back to the surface, and, picking it up, he ran off, tossing it before him in his own sportive way. Outstripping it in speed he soon reached home, and remained within till the next morning. The four brothers, rising up from the water at the same time, dripping and wroth, roared out in one voice a terrible threat of vengeance, which they promised to execute the next day. They knew the boy's speed, and that they could by no means overtake him. By times in the morning, the four brothers were stirring in their lodge, and getting ready to look after their revenge. Their old mother, who lived with them, begged them not to go. 'Better,' said she, 'now that your clothes are dry, to think no more of the ducking than to go and all four of you get your heads broken, as you surely will, for that boy is a monedo or he could not perform such feats as he does.' But her sons paid no heed to this wise advice, and, raising a great war-cry, which frightened the birds overhead nearly out of their feathers, they started for the boy's lodge among the rocks. The little spirit or boy-man heard them roaring forth their threats as they approached, but he did not appear to be disquieted in the least. His sister as yet had heard nothing; after a while she thought she could distinguish the noise of snow-shoes on the snow, at a distance, but rapidly advancing. She looked out, and seeing the four large men coming straight to their lodge she was in great fear, and running in, exclaimed: 'He is coming, four times as strong as ever!' for she supposed that the one man whom her brother had offended had become so angry as to make four of himself in order to wreak his vengeance. The boy-man said, 'Why do you mind them? Give me something to eat.' 'How can you think of eating at such a time?' she replied. 'Do as I request you, and be quick.' She then gave little spirit his dish, and he commenced eating Just then the brothers came to the door. 'See!' cried the sister, 'the man with four heads!' The brothers were about to lift the curtain at the door, when the boy-man turned his dish upside down, and immediately the door was closed with a stone; upon which the four brothers set to work and hammered with their clubs with great fury, until at length they succeeded in making a slight opening. One of the brothers presented his face at this little window, and rolled his eye about at the boy-man in a very threatening way. The little spirit, who, when he had closed the door, had returned to his meal, which he was quietly eating, took up his bow and arrow which lay by his side, and let fly the shaft, which, striking the man in the head, he fell back. The boy-man merely called out 'Number one' as he fell, and went on with his meal. In a moment a second face, just like the first, presented itself; and as he raised his bow, his sister said to him: 'What is the use? You have killed that man already.' Little spirit fired his arrow -- the man fell -- he called out 'Number two,' and continued his meal. The two others of the four brothers were dispatched in the same quiet way, and counted off as 'Number three' and 'Number four.' After they were all well disposed of in this way, the boy-man directed his sister to go out and see them. She presently ran back, saying: There are four of them.' 'Of course,' the boy-man answered, 'and there always shall be four of them.' Going out himself, the boy-man raised the brothers to their feet, and giving each a push, one with his face to the East, another to the West, a third to the South, and the last to the North, he sent them off to wander about the earth; and whenever you see four men just alike, they are the four brothers whom the little spirit or boy-man dispatched upon their travels. But this was not the last display of the boy-man's power. When spring came on, and the lake began to sparkle in the morning sun, the boy-man said to his sister: 'Make me a new set of arrows, and a bow.' Although he provided for their support, the little spirit never performed household or hard work of any kind, and his sister obeyed. When she had made the weapons, which, though they were very small, were beautifully wrought and of the best stuff the field and wood could furnish, she again cautioned him not to shoot into the lake. 'She thinks,' said the boy-man to himself, 'I can see no further into the water than she. My sister shall learn better.' Regardless of her warnings, he on purpose discharged a shaft into the lake, waded out into the water till he got into its depth, and paddled about for his arrow, so as to call the attention of his sister, and as if to show that he hardily braved her advice. She hurried to the shore, calling on him to return; but instead of heeding her, he cried out: 'You of the red fins, come and swallow me!' Although his sister did not clearly understand whom her brother was addressing, she too called out: 'Don't mind the foolish boy!' The boy-man's order seemed to be best attended to, for immediately a monstrous fish came and swallowed him. Before disappearing entirely, catching a glimpse of his sister standing in despair upon the shore, the boy-man hallooed out to her: 'Me-zush-ke-zin-ance!' She wondered what he meant. At last it occurred to her that it must be an old moccasin. She accordingly ran to the lodge, and bringing one, she tied it to a string attached to a tree, and cast it into the water. The great fish said to the boy-man under water: 'What is that floating?' To which the boy-man replied: 'Go, take hold of it, swallow it as fast as you can; it is a great delicacy.' The fish darted toward the old shoe and swallowed it, making of it a mere mouthful. The boy-man laughed in himself, but said nothing, till the fish was fairly caught, when he took hold of the line and began to pull himself in his fish-carriage ashore. The sister, who was watching all this time, opened wide her eyes as the huge fish came up and up upon the shore; and she opened them still more when the fish seemed to speak, and she heard from within a voice, saying, 'Make haste and release me from this nasty place.' It was her brother's voice, which she was accustomed to obey; and she made haste with her knife to open a door in the side of the fish, from which the boy-man presently leaped forth. He lost no time in ordering her to cut it up and dry it; telling her that their spring supply of meat was now provided. The sister now began to believe that her brother was an extraordinary boy; yet she was not altogether satisfied in her mind that he was greater than the rest of the world. They sat, one evening, in the lodge, musing with each other in the dark, by the light of each other's eyes -- for they had no other of any kind -- when the sister said, 'My brother, it is strange that you, who can do so much, are no wiser than the Ko-Ko, who gets all his light from the moon; which shines or not, as it pleases.' 'And is not that light enough?' asked the little spirit. 'Quite enough,' the sister replied. 'If it would but come within the lodge and not sojourn out in the tree-tops and among the clouds.' 'We will have a light of our own, sister,' said the boy-man; and, casting himself upon a mat by the door, he commenced singing: Fire-fly, fire-fly, bright little thing, Light me to bed and my song I will sing; Give me your light, as you fly o'er my head, That I may merrily go to my bed. Give me your light o'er the grass as you creep, That I may joyfully go to my sleep; Come, little fire-fly, come little beast, Come! and I'll make you tomorrow a feast. Come, little candle, that flies as I sing, Bright little fairy-bug, night's little king; Come and I'll dream as you guide me along; Come and I'll pay you, my bug, with a song. As the boy-man chanted this call, they came in at first one by one, then in couples, till at last, swarming in little armies, the fire-flies lit up the little lodge with a thousand sparkling lamps, just as the stars were lighting the mighty hollow of the sky without. The faces of the sister and brother shone upon each other, from their opposite sides of the lodge, with a kindly gleam of mutual trustfulness; and never more from that hour did a doubt of each other darken their little household.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,The Transformation of Issunboshi,Japan,NA,"Source (Internet Archive): F. Hadland Davis, Myths and Legends of Japan (London: George G. Harrap and Company, 1912), pp. 364-67.","A Prayer to the Empress Jingo An old married couple went to the shrine of the deified Empress Jingo, and prayed that they might be blessed with a child, even if it were no bigger than one of their fingers. A voice was heard from behind the bamboo curtain of the shrine, and the old people were informed that their wish would be granted. In due time the old woman gave birth to a child, and when she and her husband discovered that this miniature piece of humanity was no bigger than a little finger, they became extremely angry, and thought that the Empress Jingo had treated them very meanly indeed, though, as a matter of fact, she had fulfilled their prayer to the letter. 'One-Inch Priest' The little fellow was called Issunboshi ('One-Inch Priest'), and every day his parents expected to see him suddenly grow up as other boys; but at thirteen years of age he still remained the same size as when he was born. Gradually his parents became exasperated, for it wounded their vanity to hear the neighbours describe their son as Little Finger, or Grain-of-Corn. They were so much annoyed that at last they determined to send Issunboshi away. The little fellow did not complain. He requested his mother to give him a needle, a small soup-bowl, and a chop-stick, and with these things he set off on his adventures. Issunboshi becomes a Page His soup-bowl served as a boat, which he propelled along the river with his chop-stick. In this fashion he finally reached Kyoto. Issunboshi wandered about this city until he saw a large roofed gate. Without the least hesitation he walked in, and having reached the porch of a house, he cried out in a very minute voice: 'I beg an honourable inquiry!' Prince Sanjo himself heard the little voice, and it was some time before he could discover where it came from. When he did so he was delighted with his discovery, and on the little fellow begging that he might live in the prince's house, his request was readily granted. The boy became a great favourite, and was at once made the Princess Sanjo's page. In this capacity he accompanied his mistress everywhere, and though so very small, he fully appreciated the honour and dignity of his position. An Encounter with Oni One day the Princess Sanjo and her page went to the Temple of Kwannon, the Goddess of Mercy, 'under whose feet are dragons of the elements and the lotuses of purity' As they were leaving the temple two oni (evil spirits) sprang upon them. Issunboshi took out his needle-sword from its hollow straw, and loudly denouncing the oni, he flourished his small weapon in their evil-looking faces. One of the creatures laughed. 'Why,' said he scornfully, 'I could swallow you, as a cormorant swallows a trout, and what is more, my funny little bean-seed, I will do so.' The oni opened his mouth, and Issunboshi found himself slipping down a huge throat until he finally stood in the creature's great dark stomach. Issunboshi, nothing daunted, began boring away with his needle-sword. This made the evil spirit cry out and give a great cough, which sent the little fellow into the sunny world again. The second oni, who had witnessed his companion's distress, was extremely angry, and tried to swallow the remarkable little page, but was not successful. This time Issunboshi climbed up the creature's nostril, and when he had reached the end of what seemed to him to be a very long and gloomy tunnel, he began piercing the oni's eyes. The creature, savage with pain, ran off as fast as he could, followed by his yelling companion. Needless to say, the princess was delighted with her page's bravery, and told him that she was sure her father would reward him when he was told about the terrible encounter. The Magic Mallet On their way home the princess happened to pick up a small wooden mallet. 'Oh!' said she, 'this must have been dropped by the wicked oni, and it is none other than a lucky mallet. You have only to wish and then tap it upon the ground, and your wish, no matter what, is always granted. My brave Issunboshi, tell me what you would most desire, and I will tap the mallet on the ground.' After a pause the little fellow said: 'Honourable Princess, I should like to be as big as other people.' The princess tapped the mallet on the ground, calling aloud the wish of her page. In a moment Issunboshi was transformed from a bijou creature to a lad just like other youths of his age. These wonderful happenings excited the curiosity of the emperor, and Issunboshi was summoned to his presence. The emperor was so delighted with the youth that he gave him many gifts and made him a high official. Finally, Issunboshi became a great lord and married Prince Sanjo's youngest daughter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Thomas of the Thumb,Scotland,Campbell's source: 'From Catherine Macfarlane in 1809. John Dewar.',"Source (books.google.com): J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands, vol. 3 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1862), no. 59, pp. 114-15. Source (Internet Archive): J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands, vol. 3 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1862), no. 59, pp. 114-15.","There was one before now whose name was Tómas na h òrdaig, and he was no bigger than the thumb of a stalwart man. Tómas went once to take a walk, and there came a coarse shower of hailstones, and Tómas went in under a dock leaf; and there came a great drove of cattle past, and there was a great brindled bull amongst them, and he was eating about the docken, and he ate Tómas of the Thumb. His mother and his father missed him, and they went to seek him. They were going past the brindled bull, and quoth Tómas na h òrdaig' Ye are there a seeking me, Through smooth places, and moss places; And here am I a lonely one, Within the brindled bull. Then they killed the brindled bull, and they sought Tómas na h òrdaig amongst the paunches and entrails of the bull, but they threw away the great gut in which he was. There came a carlin the way, and she took the great gut, and as she was going along she went over a bog. Tómas said something to her, and the old wife threw away the great gut from her in a fright. There came a fox the way, and he took with him the gut, and Tómas shouted: 'Bies taileù! the fox. Bis taileù! the fox.' Then the dogs ran after the fox, and they caught him, and they ate him; and though they ate the gut they did not touch Tómas na h òrdaig. Tómas went home, where his mother and his father were, and he it was indeed that had the queer story for them. This varies from the book adventures of our old friend Tom Thumb, who is now supposed to have been the dwarf of King Arthur. The story comes from Glenfalloch, which is not far from Dumbarton, which was, according to family tradition, the birth-place of King Arthur's son. It was told to Dewar by a girl who took charge of him when a child, and it is known to one other man whom I know. I used to hear the adventures of 'Comhaoise Ordaig' (Thumb's co-temporary), from my piper nurse myself, but I was so young at the time that I have forgotten all but the name. The cry of 'bis taileu' may still be heard in the mouths of herd laddies addressing their collies, and it maybe the same as 'tally-ho!' for which a French derivation has been sought and found --'tallis hors.' I would rather imagine King Arthur, and his knights, and his dwarf, shouting an old Celtic hunting cry, and red-coated sportsmen keeping it up till now, than trace it to Norman-French; but in any case, here is something like tally-ho in the mouth of Tom Thumb, and in a glen where tally-ho has never been heard.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Thumbikin,Norway,"Norwegian version (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'Tommeliden,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 44, pp. 267-69. Norwegian version (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'Tommeliden,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 44, pp. 267-69.","Source (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, 2nd edition, enlarged, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), pp. 429-31. Source (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse, 2nd edition, enlarged, translated by George Webbe Dasent (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1859), pp. 429-31. Norwegian version (books.google.com): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'Tommeliden,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 44, pp. 267-69. Norwegian version (Internet Archive): Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, 'Tommeliden,' Norske Folkeeventyr (Christiania [Oslo]: Johan Dahls Forlag, 1852), no. 44, pp. 267-69.","Once on a time there was a woman who had an only son, and he was no taller than your thumb; and so they called him Thumbikin. Now, when he had come to be old enough to know right and wrong, his mother told him to go out and woo him a bride, for now she said it was high time he thought about getting a wife. When Thumbikin heard that, he was very glad; so they got their driving gear in order and set off, and his mother put him into her bosom. Now they were going to a palace where there was such an awfully big princess, but when they had gone a bit of the way, Thumbikin was lost and gone. His mother hunted for him everywhere, and bawled to him, and wept because he was lost, and she couldn't find him again. 'Pip, Pip,' said Thumbikin, 'here I am;' and he had hidden himself in the horse's mane. So he came out, and had to give his word to his mother that he wouldn't do so any more. But when they had driven a bit farther on, Thumbikin was lost again. His mother hunted for him, and called him and wept; but gone he was, and gone he stayed. 'Pip, Pip,' said Thumbikin at last; and then she heard how he laughed and tittered, but she couldn't find him at all for the life of her. 'Pip, Pip, why, here I am now!' said Thumbikin, and came out of the horse's ear. So he had to give his word that he wouldn't hide himself again; but they had scarce driven a bit farther before he was gone again. He couldn't help it. As for his mother, she hunted, and wept, and called him by name; but gone he was, and gone he stayed; and the more she hunted, the less she could find him in any way. 'Pip, Pip, here I am then,' said Thumbikin. But she couldn't make out at all where he was, his voice sounded so dull and muffled. So she hunted, and he kept on saying, ' Pip, here I am,' and laughed and chuckled, that she couldn't find him; but all at once the horse snorted, and it snorted Thumbikin out, for he had crept up one of his nostrils. Then his mother took him and put him into a bag; she knew no other way, for she saw well enough he couldn't help hiding himself. So, when they came to the palace the match was soon made, for the princess thought him a pretty little chap, and it wasn't long before the wedding came on too. Now, when they were going to sit down to the wedding-feast, Thumbikin sat at the table by the princess's side; but he had worse than no seat, for when he was to eat he couldn't reacli up, to the table; and so, if the princess hadn't helped him up on to it, he wouldn't have got a bit to eat. Now it went good and well so long as he had to eat off a plate, but then there came a great bowl of porridge -- that he couldn't reach up to; but Thumbikn soon found out a way to help himself; he climbed up and sat on the lip of the bowl. But then there was a pat of melting butter right in the middle of the bowl, and that he couldn't reach to dip his porridge into it, and so he went on and took his seat at the edge of the melting butter; but just then who should come but the princess, with a great spoonful of porridge to dip it into the butter; and, alas! she went too near to Thumbikin, and tipped him over; and so he fell over head and ears, and was drowned in the melted butter.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Thumbling's Travels,Germany,Link to a copy of this tale in a separate file: Thumbling's Travels.,"Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Daumerlings Wanderschaft,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 45, pp. 223-27. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Daumerlings Wanderschaft,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 45, pp. 223-27.","He was, however, quite brave, and he said to his father, 'Father, I want to and must go out into the world.' 'That's right, my son,' said the old man. He took a long darning-needle and with a candle made a knob of sealing-wax on it. 'Here is a sword to take with you on your way.' The little tailor wanted to have one more meal with at home, so he hopped into the kitchen to see what his mother had cooked for the last time. The meal was ready to eat, and in a dish on the hearth. He said, ' Mother, what is there to eat today?' 'See for yourself,' said his mother. So Thumbling jumped onto the hearth, and looked into the dish. However, he stretched his neck too far out, and the steam from the food caught hold of him and carried him up the chimney. He rode about on the steam for a while in the air, until at last he sank down to the ground again. The little tailor was now outside in the wide world. He traveled about, finally finding work with a master tailor. However, the food was not good enough for him. 'Mistress,' said Thumbling to the master's wife, 'if you don't give me better food, I'll go away, and early tomorrow morning I'll write with chalk on your front door: 'Too much potatoes, too little meat! Good-bye, Potato-King.'' 'Just what do you want, grasshopper?' said the master's wife. She grew angry, picked up a rag, and was about to hit him with it. However, my little tailor slipped nimbly under a thimble, peeked out from beneath it, and stuck his tongue out at the master's wife. She picked up the thimble and tried to get hold of him, but little Thumbling jumped into the rag. The master's wife untangled the rag, looking for him, but he escaped into a crack in the table. 'Ho, ho, lady mistress,' he shouted, sticking his head out. When she began to hit him, he jumped down into a drawer. But she finally caught hold of him and drove out of the house. The little tailor journeyed onward and came to a great forest where he happened onto a band of thieves. They were planning to steal the king's treasure. Seing the little tailor, they thought, 'A little fellow like that can crawl through a keyhole be a picklock for us.' 'Hey there,' cried one of them, 'you giant Goliath, do you want to go to the treasure chamber with us? You can slip in and throw out the money.' Thumbling reflected for a while, and finally said 'yes.' He then went the treasure chamber with them. He looked at the door from top to bottom to see if there was any crack in it. He soon found a crack wide enough to let him through. He was about slip in when one of the two guards standing there observed him. He and said to the other guard, 'What kind of an ugly spider is that? I'll step on it and kill it.' 'Leave the poor creature alone,' said the other. 'It has never done you any harm.' Thus Thumbling got safely through the crack and into the treasure chamber. He opened the window beneath which the thieves were standing, and threw one taler after another down to them. The little tailor was in the middle of his work when he heard the king coming to inspect his treasure chamber. He quickly hid himself. The king noticed that several talers were missing, but he could not perceive who could have stolen them, for the locks and bolts were in good condition, and everything seemed to be well protected. He went away again, saying to the guards, 'Be on the alert! Someone is after the money.' When Thumbling resumed his work the guards heard the money being moved about with sound of clink, clank, clink, clank. They swiftly ran in to capture the thief, but the little tailor heard them coming and was swifter than they were. He jumped into a corner and covered himself with a taler, so that nothing could be seen of him. Then he began teasing the guards, crying out, 'Here I am!' The guards ran toward him, but when they got there, he had already jumped into another corner under a taler, and was shouting, 'Hey! I'm over here!' The guards hurred there, but Thumbling had long long since hidden himself in a third corner, and was shouting, 'Hey! I'm over here!' Thus he made fools of them. He drove them to and fro about the treasure chamber so long that they grew tired and went away. Then one at a time he threw all the talers out. He tossed the last one with all his might, hopped nimbly onto it, and flew down with it through the window. The thieves praised him heartily. 'You are a great hero,' they said. 'Do you want to be our captain?' Thumbling thanked them, but said he wanted to see the world first. They divided the loot, but the little tailor asked for only one kreuzer because he could not carry any more. He buckled on his sword once again, said farewell to the robbers, and went on his way. At first he apprenticed himself to a few different masters, but did not like the work, so finally he hired himself out as a servant in an inn. However, the maids did not like him, for he saw all that they did secretly, without their seeing him. He he told their master and mistress what they had stolen off the plates and from the cellar, carrying it off for their own use. They said, 'Just wait! We'll get even with you!' Together the plotted to play a trick on him. Soon afterwards one of the maids was cutting grass in the garden when she saw Thumbling jumping about and creeping up and down among the plants. She quickly gathered him up with the cut grass, tied it all in a large cloth, and secretly threw it to the cows. One of the cows was a large black one, who swallowed him down with the grass without hurting him. He did not like it down below, for it was quite dark, with not so much as a burning candle. When the cow was being milked he cried out: This so frightened Thumbling that he cried out in a clear voice, 'First let me out! I'm here inside.' The master heard that quite well, but he did not know where the voice came from. 'Where are you?' he asked. 'In the black one,' answered Thumbling, but the master did not understand what that meant, and went away. The cow was slaughtered the next morning. Fortunately Thumbling escaped being hit as the meat was being sliced and chopped. But he ended up in the sausage meat. The butcher came in and began his work, and Thumbling cried out with all his might, 'Don't chop too deep, don't chop too deep. I'm stuck inside here.' No one heard him because of the noise of the chopping knife. Now poor Thumbling was in danger, but danger leads to speed, and he jumped about so quickly between the blows that none of them touched him, and he escaped unharmed. But he still could not get away. He had to let himself be pushed into a blood sausage with bits of fat. His quarters there were very tight, and furthermore he was hung up in the chimney to be smoked. This was a terribly dreary and cramped situation. He was finally taken down in winter, because the blood sausage was to be served to a guest. When the hostess was cutting it into slices, he was careful not to stretch his head too far out, or it could have been cut off. He finally saw his opportunity, cleared a way for himself, and jumped out. The little tailor did not want to stay any longer in a house where he had been so badly treated, so once again he set forth on his travels. His feedom did not last long. In an open field he met up with a fox who, without thinking, snapped him up. 'Hey there, Mr. Fox,' cried the little tailor, 'I'm stuck in your throat. Set me free again.' 'You're quite right,' answered the fox. 'You are nothing at all for me, but if you will promise me the chickens in your father's barnyard I'll let you go.' 'With all my heart,' replied Thumbling. 'I promise that you shall have all the chickens.' Then the fox released Thumbling, and even carried him home. When the father saw his dear son once again, he gladly gave the fox all the chickens that he had. 'For this I am bringing you a goodly sum of money,' said Thumbling, and gave his father the kreuzer that he had earned on his travels. 'Oh, you goose, your father would surely love his child more than the chickens in his barnyard!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Thumbthick,Germany,A fulling mill is a mill where wool was beaten and boiled as a part of the felt-making process. Link to a copy of this tale in a separate file: Thumbthick.,"Source (books.google.com): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Daumesdick,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 37, pp. 194-200. Source (Internet Archive): Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Daumesdick,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 37, pp. 194-200.","Once there was a poor peasant who would sit at the hearth poking the fire every evening, while his wife sat nearby spinning. Once he said, 'It is sad that we have no children. It is so quiet here, while it is so loud and cheerful in other houses.' 'Yes,' answered the wife with a sigh, and said, 'I would be satisfied even if there were just one, and even if it were ever so small -- no larger than a thumb. We would still love it.' And then it happened that the wife took ill, and seven months later she gave birth to a child. All of his parts were perfectly formed, but he was no larger than a thumb. Then they said, 'Yes, he is what we asked for. He will be our dear child.' And because of his size they named him Thumbthick. They gave him good things to eat, but the child still did not grow any larger, remaining just as he had been in his first hour. But he had an intelligent look in his eyes, and he soon proved to be a clever and quick little thing, succeeding in everything that he undertook. One day while the peasant was making preparations to go into the forest to cut wood, he said to himself, 'I wish that I had someone to follow me up with the wagon.' 'Oh, father,' shouted Thumbthick, 'I'll take care of that. The wagon will be in the forest whenever you say.' The man laughed and said, 'How can that be? You are much too small to guide the horse with the reigns.' 'That doesn't matter, father. If mother will hitch up the horse, I'll sit in his ear and tell him which way to go.' 'Well,' said the father, 'we can try it once.' When the time came, the mother hitched the horse to the wagon and set Thumbthick in his ear. The little one shouted which way the horse was to go, 'Gee! Haw! Giddap! Whoa!' Everything went as it should, and they followed the right trail into the forest. Now it happened that just as they were rounding a bend, with the little one shouting, 'Haw! Haw!' Two strange men came by. 'What is that?' said the one. 'There is a wagon with a driver calling to the horse, but there is no one to be seen!' 'That can't be,' said the other. 'Let's follow the cart and see where it stops.' The wagon continued on into the forest to the place where the wood was being cut. When Thumbthick saw his father, he called out, 'See, father, I'm here with the wagon. Lift me down.' The father held the horse with his left arm, and with his right arm lifted his little son down from the ear, who then cheerfully sat down on a piece of straw. When the two strangers saw Thumbthick, they were so amazed that they didn't know what to say. The one took the other one aside and said, 'Listen, that little fellow could be our fortune, if we could just get him to a big city where there is money. Let's buy him.' They went to the peasant and said, 'Sell us the little man. He'll be well off with us.' 'No,' answered the father. 'My pride and joy is not for sale at any price.' However, when Thumbthick heard what was going on, he climbed up the crease in his father's jacket and onto his shoulder, then said into his ear, 'Father, let me go. I'll come right back to you.' So, for a pretty piece of money, the father let the two men have him. 'Where do you want to sit?' they asked him. 'Oh, put me on the brim of your hat so I can walk back and forth like on a balcony and observe the scenery.' They did as he asked, and as soon as Thumbthick had taken leave from his father, they set forth with him. They walked on until evening, and as it was getting dark the little one said, 'Put me down. I have to go.' 'Just stay up there,' said the man whose head he was sitting on. 'It doesn't matter to me. The birds let things drop on me from time to time too.' 'No,' said Thumbthick. 'I know what's proper. Lift me down right now.' The man took off his hat and set the little one in a field next to the path. He jumped and crawled back and forth between the clods, and then slipped down a mouse hole that he found. 'Good evening, gentlemen,' he called out, 'you no longer have me!' They ran up and poked sticks into the opening, but it was wasted effort. Thumbthick crawled further and further back until it was pitch dark. Full of anger, but with empty purses, the two men made their way home. When Thumbthick saw that they had gone, he crawled from the underground passageway. 'It is dangerous to walk across this field in the dark,' he said. 'I could easily break my neck and a leg!' Fortunately he came upon an empty snail shell. 'Praise God! Here is a safe place to spend the night!' and he crawled inside. A little later, just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard two men passing by. One said to the other, 'How are we going to get that rich priest's gold and silver?' 'I could tell you how,' interrupted Thumbthick. 'What was that!' cried out the one thief, frightened, 'I heard someone talking.' They stopped and listened, and Thumbthick spoke up again, 'Take me along, and I'll help you.' 'Where are you?' 'Just look here on the ground, and you'll see where the voice is coming from,' he answered. The thieves finally found him and picked him up. 'You little rascal, how can you help us?' they said. 'Look,' he answered, 'I'll crawl between the iron bars into the priest's storeroom and reach out to you everything that you want.' 'Well,' they said, 'let's see what you can do.' They went to the rectory, and Thumbthick crept into the storeroom, then shouted out with all his might, 'Do you want everything that's here?' The frightened thieves said, 'Speak softly, and don't wake anyone up.' Thumbthick, pretending that he didn't understand them, yelled out, 'What do you want? Do you want everything that's here?' The cook, who was sleeping in the next room, sat up in bed and listened. The frightened thieves, who had run a little way off, gathered their courage, thinking that the little fellow was teasing them, and came back and whispered to him, 'Be serious now, and reach something out to us.' Then Thumbthick again shouted as loudly as he could, 'I'll give you everything. Just reach your hands inside.' The maid, who was listening carefully, heard this very clearly, jumped out of bed, and staggered in through the door. The thieves took off as though they were running from a fire, while the maid went to light a candle, because she could not see a thing. She came back with a light, but Thumbthick made his way out into the barn without being seen. The maid, after having searched in every corner without finding anything, finally went back to bed, thinking that she had been dreaming with open eyes and ears. Thumbthick climbed about in the hay and found a good place to sleep. He wanted to rest until morning and then return to his parents, but what happened to him instead? Yes, there is so much suffering and need in the world! As usual, the maid got up at dawn to feed the cattle. First off she went to the barn and gathered up an armful of hay, and precisely that bundle of hay where Thumbthick was lying fast asleep. He was sleeping so soundly, that he was not aware of anything, and he did not wake up until he was in the mouth of the cow that had eaten him with the hay. 'Oh, God,' he cried, 'how did I fall into the fulling mill?' But soon he discovered where he was. He took care to not be crushed by her teeth, but he could not escape sliding down into her stomach. 'They forgot the windows,' he said. 'The sun does not shine here at all. I wish that I had a light.' He did not like these quarters at all. The worst thing was that more and more fresh hay was coming in at the door, and there was less and less space for him. Finally he shouted out with fear and as loudly as he could, 'Don't bring me anything more to eat! Don't bring me anything more to eat!' The maid was just milking the cow when she heard someone talking without seeing anyone. It was the same voice that she had heard in the night, and it so frightened her, that she fell off her stool and spilled the milk. She ran with great haste to her master, and said, 'Oh God, father, the cow is talking.' The priest answered the maid, 'You are crazy!' and then went to the barn to see for himself what was the matter. He had scarcely set his foot inside when Thumbthick shouted anew, 'Don't bring me anything more to eat! Don't bring me anything more to eat!' The terrified priest thought that it must be an evil spirit, and ordered that the cow be killed. So the cow was slaughtered. The stomach with Thumbthick inside was thrown onto the manure pile. Thumbthick attempted to free himself, but it was not easy. Finally he succeeded in making a little room for himself, but just as he was about to stick his little head out, a wolf came by and downed the entire stomach with a single hungry gulp. Thumbthick did not lose his courage. 'Perhaps,' he thought, 'I can talk to the wolf,' and he called to him from inside his paunch, 'Wolf, I know where you can get a great feast.' 'Where?' said the wolf. 'In thus and such a house. You can get in through the drain hole, and there you will find cakes and bacon, and sausage, as much as you can eat.' He exactly described his father's house. The wolf did not have to be told twice. That night he squeezed his way through the drain hole into the storage room, and ate to his heart's content. When he was full, he wanted to leave, but he had become so fat that he could not get back out the same way. Thumbthick had counted on this, and now he began to make a mighty noise from within the wolf's body. He stormed and shouted as loudly as he could. 'Be quiet!' said the wolf. 'You'll wake the people up.' 'So what?' answered the little one. 'You've eaten your fill, and now I want to have a good time too!' He began anew to scream with all his strength. This woke up his father and mother. They ran to the storage room and peered in through a crack. When they saw that a wolf was inside, they were horrified. The man fetched an ax and the woman a scythe. 'Stay behind me,' said the man, as they stepped into the room. 'I'll hit him first, but if that doesn't kill him, you cut him to pieces.' Then Thumbthick heard his father's voice and called out, 'Father dear, here I am. I'm inside the wolf!' The father spoke with joy, 'Praise God! Our dearest child has found his way back!' He told his wife to put the scythe away, in order not to injure him. Then he struck the wolf a blow to the head, and he fell down dead. They found a knife and scissors, cut open his belly, and pulled out their dear child. 'Oh,' said the father, 'we were so worried about you!' 'Yes, father, I've seen a lot of the world now, and thank God that once again I can get a breath of fresh air.' 'Where all have you been?' 'Oh, father, I was in a mouse hole, in a cow's belly, and in a wolf's paunch, and now I am going to stay here with you.' 'And we will never again sell you, not for all the riches in the world.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
700,Tom Thumb,Ireland,The material on this site is made available under the CC BY-NC 4.0 licence. The Schools' Collection is a manuscript collection of folklore compiled by schoolchildren in Ireland in the 1930s.,"dúchas.ie >> The Schools' Collection >> Co. Donegal >> Leitir Mhór, pp. 119-32.","One day Tom's mother was making a pudding and to see how she mixed it Tom climbed up on the edge of the bowl. His foot slipped and he fell into the batter. His mother not noticing this stirred him into the pudding and put it into the oven. Tom soon grew hotter and hotter until he could stand it no longer, and began to yell and jump up and down. When Tom's mother saw the pudding behave in such a strange manner, she thought it was bewitched and flung it out of the window. The pudding being broken to pieces by the fall, Tom was released and walked in to his mother. Another day a crow saw him and picked him up and flew with him to the top of a giant's castle. The giant saw him and picked him up and put him in his mouth to eat him. Tom tickled his tongue so that the giant took him out and threw him into the river. A large fish then swallowed him. The fish was soon caught for the king. When it was cut open there was Tom. Everybody was delighted with the little fellow. The king liked him so much that he made him his dwarf and Tom became the favourite of the whole court. One day Tom was jumping off a wall when the cook was passing with a bowl of hot milk for the king. Poor Tom jumped into the middle of it and it splashed into the cook's eyes. Down went the bowl to the ground. The cook who was very cross swore to the king that Tom had done it out of mischief. So Tom was tried and sentenced to be put in jail. When the little fellow heard this he felt very bad. With one spring he jumped down the throat of a miller who stood by. Tom being lost the court broke up and the miller went back to his mill. But when he got there Tom did not leave him long at rest. He began to roll and tumble about so that the miller soon had to have a doctor. When the doctor came Tom began to dance and sing and the doctor was as much frightened as the miller was. He sent in great haste for six more doctors; while all those doctors were talking about what they should do the miller yawned and Tom gave a jump and landed in the middle of the table. Then he turned around and made a low bow to each and went home to the king. Tom did not live very long after to enjoy the king's favour. He was always ready to help others in trouble. One day, after trying to rescue a fly from a spiders web, the spider attacked him fiercely and he was so badly wounded that he died soon afterwards. The king and his court missed the cheerful little fellow. In his memory they erected a beautiful monument on which was recorded all the wonderful deeds of Tom Thumb. I read this story in a little book that I got a long time ago.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1655,The Pea That Made a Fortune,Jamaica,"Beckwith's informant: Etheline Samuels, Claremont, St. Ann.","Source (Internet Archive): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 63, p. 69. Source (Sacred Texts): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 63, p. 69.","One day an old lady was traveling on the road and she picked up a green pea and she planted it. And after it grew, her goat ate it off. She cried upon the goat and told it that she wanted the peas. The goat said that he didn't have anything to give her, but she could take one of his horns. She took the horn and went to the river-side to wash it. The river took it away from her. She cried upon the river, and the river said it didn't have anything to give her but a fish. She went further. She met a man who was very hungry. She gave the man the fish. After the man ate it, she cried upon the man. The man gave her a moreen. She went a little further and saw a cow-boy. She gave him the moreen. After he had worn it out, she cried upon him for it. He said he didn't have anything to give her but his whip. She went a little further and saw a man driving cows. She gave the whip to the man. After the man had lashed it out, she cried upon him, so he gave her a cow; and from the cow she made her riches.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1741,Clever Molly May,Jamaica,"Beckwith's informant: Emily Alexander, Mandeville.","Source (Internet Archive): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 130, p. 162. Source (Sacred Texts): Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1924), no. 130, p. 162.","Once Anansi went out to invite a friend to dinner. Little Molly May was his servant, so he left her to roast a turkey for dinner. Anansi filled the wine-jug, laid the table, put on his frock coat and his top hat, took his walking-stick and went out for his friend. Molly May roasted the turkey. Seeing that it looked so nice and charming, she thought that she would take a piece; so she did, and it tasted so nice she took another piece. That tasted so nice she took a next piece and a sip of the wine, and she sipped and tasted till at last she had eaten up the whole turkey and drunk the whole of the wine. She saw the master coming; so she ran in swift haste, took up the bones, fixed them nicely in the dish, covered the dish, and carried it and laid it on the table. When the master came, he sent the visitor into the house and said to Molly May, 'Hullo, deh! everyt'ing all right?' She said, 'Yes, sah! all is right.' So the master took up the carving-knife and went outside to sharpen it. Molly ran inside and told the visitor that the master was sharpening the knife to cut off one of his hands; the visitor in swift haste left the house. Then Molly went outside and told the master that the visitor had eaten all the turkey and drunk the wine. The master ran through one door and, seeing all the bones on the table, went through the other. The visitor was running for his life and Anansi went running after him, calling 'Leave one! leave one!' He meant leave one (side of) the turkey, but the visitor thought he meant one of his hands, so he ran for his life.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-15
1696,Going Traveling,Germany,NA,"Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Up Reisen gohn,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, vol. 2, (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857), no. 143, pp. 262-63.","Once upon a time there was a poor woman who had a son who wanted very much to travel. His mother said, 'How can you travel? We have no money at all for you to take with you.'  Then the son said, 'I will take care of myself. I will always say, 'Not much, not much, not much.''  So he walked for a long time, always saying, 'Not much, not much, not much.'  Then he came to a group of fishermen, and said, 'God be with you. Not much, not much, not much.'  'What do you say, fellow? Not much?'  And when they pulled up their net, they had not caught many fish. So one of them fell on the boy with a stick, saying, 'Have you ever seen me thrash?'  'What should I say, then?' asked the boy.  'You should say, 'Catch a lot. Catch a lot.'  Then he again walked a long time, saying, 'Catch a lot. Catch a lot,' until he came to a gallows, where they were about to hang a poor sinner. Then said he, 'Good morning. Catch a lot. Catch a lot.'  'What do you say, fellow? Catch a lot? Should there be even more wicked people in the world? Isn't this enough?' And he again got it on his back.  'What should I say, then?' he asked.  'You should say, 'May God comfort the poor soul.'  Again the boy walked on for a long while, saying, 'May God comfort the poor soul.' Then he came to a ditch where a knacker was skinning a horse. The boy said, 'Good morning. May God comfort the poor soul.'  'What do you say, you disgusting fellow?' said the knacker, hitting him about the ears with his skinning hook until he could not see out of his eyes.  'What should I say, then?'  'You should say, 'Lie in the ditch, you carcass.''  So he walked on, saying, 'Lie in the ditch, you carcass. Lie in the ditch, you carcass.' He came to a coach filled with people, and said, 'Lie in the ditch, you carcass.'  Then the coach tipped over into the ditch, and the driver took his whip and beat the boy until he had to crawl back to his mother, and as long as he lived he never went traveling again.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,What You Deserve,Germany,Translated by D. L. Ashliman. © 2000.,"Carl and Theodor Colshorn, 'Wurst wider Wurst,' Märchen und Sagen aus Hannover (Hannover: Verlag von Carl Rümpler, 1854), no. 19, pp. 62-63).","Once upon a time there was a widow who had a son named Michel. One day she said to him, 'Michel, I can no longer provide for you. You must go to the village. And when you get there, you must say, 'A hundred every day! A hundred every day!''  Michel said, 'I will do that.'  Upon his arrival in the village a funeral coach came his way, and he cried out, 'A hundred every day! A hundred every day!'  Then the pallbearers came and gave him a beating. Michel returned home and said to his mother, 'Mother, I got beaten up.'  His mother asked, 'Why?'  Michel replied, 'When I arrived in the village a funeral coach came my way, and I cried out, 'A hundred every day! A hundred every day! Then the pallbearers came and gave me a beating.'  'You did a bad thing,' responded his mother. 'You should have cried and wrung your hands.'  'I can still do that,' replied Michel.  When he arrived in the village again, a wedding coach came his way, so Michel sat down and cried and wrung his hands. Then the members of the wedding party came and gave him a beating.  Michel returned home again and said to his mother, 'I got beaten up again!'  'Why this time?' asked his mother.  'Well,' said Michel, 'when I arrived in the village a wedding coach came my way, so I sat down and cried and wrung my hands. Then the members of the wedding party came and gave me a beating.'  'You did a bad thing,' responded the mother. 'You should have danced and shouted, 'Happiness and joy! Happiness and joy!''  'I can still do that,' replied Michel.  When he arrived in the village this time, there was a house on fire. He ran up to it, dancing and shouting, 'Happiness and joy! Happiness and joy!' Then the men came and gave him a beating.  Michel returned home again and said to his mother, 'I got beaten up again!'  'Why this time?' asked his mother.  Michel said, 'When I arrived in the village, there was a house on fire. I ran up to it dancing and shouting, 'Happiness and joy! Happiness and joy!' Then the men came and gave me a beating.'  'You did a bad thing,' responded the mother. 'You should have thrown a bucket of water on it.'  'I can still do that,' replied Michel.  When he arrived in the village this time, there was a wagon standing there filled with beehives, so he took a bucket of water and poured in on the bees. Then the beekeeper came and gave him a beating.  Michel returned home again and said to his mother, 'I got beaten up again!'  'Oh, why this time?' asked his mother.  Michel answered, 'When I arrived in the village, there was a wagon standing there filled with beehives, so I took a bucket of water and poured in on the bees. Then the beekeeper came and gave me a beating.  'You did a bad thing,' responded the mother. 'You should have said, 'Give me a sweet treat for my mother! Give me a sweet treat for my mother!''  'I can still do that,' replied Michel.  When he arrived in the village this time, a manure wagon was just being unloaded. Michel went up to it and said, 'Give me a sweet treat for my mother! Give me a sweet treat for my mother!'  'Gladly!' said the workers. 'Just hold out your cap.' Then they filled his cap full to the top.  Then Michel went home and shouted, 'Mother, mother, see what I've got here! Mother, mother, see what I've got here!'  Then the mother took hold of him and gave him a beating.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,Silly Matt,Norway,The episode of the mother protecting her half-witted son by pouring porridge down the chimney is classified as a type 1381B folktale.  The episode of the mother protecting her half-witted son by substituting an animal's body for a human corpse is a type 1600 folktale.  The episode of casting eyes is classified as a type 1006 folktale.,"Peter Christen Asbj�rnsen, Tales from the Fjeld: A Second Series of Popular Tales, translated by George Webbe Dasent (London: Chapman and Hall, 1874), pp. 335-52.","Once on a time there was a goody who had a son called Matthew, but he was so stupid that he had no sense for anything, nor would he do much either; and the little he did was always topsy-turvy and never right, and so they never called him anything but 'Silly Matt.'  All this the goody thought bad; and it was still worse she thought that her son idled about and never turned his hand to anything else than yawning and stretching himself between the four walls.  Now close to where they lived ran a great river, and the stream was strong and bad to cross. So, one day, the goody said to the lad, there was no lack of timber there, for it grew almost up to the cottage-wall; he must cut some down and drag it to the bank and try to build a bridge over the river and take toll, and then he would both have something to do and something to live upon besides.  Yes! Matt thought so too, for his mother had said it; what she begged him do, he would do. That was safe and sure he said, for what she said must be so and not otherwise. So he hewed down timber and dragged it down and built a bridge. It didn't go so awfully fast with the work, but at any rate he had his hands full while it went on.  When the bridge was ready, the lad was to stand down at its end and take toll of those who wanted to cross, and his mother bade him be sure not to let any one over unless they paid the toll. It was all the same, she said, if it were not always in money. Goods and wares were just as good pay.  So the first day came three chaps with each his load of hay, and wanted to cross the bridge.  'No! no!' said the lad; 'you can't go over till I've taken the toll.'  'We've nothing to pay it with,' they said.  'Well, then! you can't cross; but it's all the same, if it isn't money. Goods will do just as well.'  So they gave him each a wisp of hay, and he had as much as would go on a little hand-sledge, and then they had leave to pass over the bridge.  Next came a pedlar with his pack, who sold needles and thread, and such like small wares, and he wanted to cross.  'You can't cross, till you have paid the toll,' said the lad.  'I've nothing to pay it with,' said the pedlar.  'You have wares, at any rate.'  'So the pedlar took out two needles and gave them him, and then he had leave to cross the bridge. As for the needles, the lad stuck them into the hay, and soon set off home.  So when he got home, he said, 'Now, I have taken the toll, and got something to live on.'  'What did you get?' asked the goody.  'Oh!' said he, 'there came three chaps, each with his load of hay. They each gave me a wisp of hay, so that I got a little sledge-load; and next, I got two needles from a pedlar.  'What did you do with the hay?' asked the goody.  'I tried it between my teeth; but it tasted only of grass, so I threw into the river.'  'You ought to have spread it out on the byre-floor,' said the goody.  'Well! I'll do that next time, mother,' he said.  'And what then did you do with the needles?' said the goody.  'I stuck them in the hay!'  'Ah!' said his mother. 'You are a born fool. You should have stuck them in and out of your cap.'  'Well! don't say another word, mother, and I'll be sure to do so next time.'  Next day, when the lad stood down at the foot of the bridge again, there came a man from the mill with a sack of meal, and wanted to cross.  'You can't cross till you pay the toll,' said the lad.  'I've no pence to pay it with,' said the man.  'Well! You can't cross,' said the lad; 'but goods are good pay.'  So he got a pound of meal, and the man had leave to cross. Not long after came a smith, with a horse-pack of smith's work, and wanted to cross; but it was still the same.  'You mustn't cross till you've paid the toll,' said the lad.  But he too had no money either; so he gave the lad a gimlet, and then he had leave to cross. So when the lad got home to his mother, the toll was the first thing she asked about.  'What did you take for toll today?'  'Oh! there came a man from the mill with a sack of meal, and he gave me a pound of meal; and then came a smith, with a horse-load of smith's-work, and he gave me a gimlet.'  'And pray what did you do with the gimlet?' asked the goody.  'I did as you bade me, mother,' said the lad. 'I stuck it in and out of my cap.'  'Oh! but that was silly,' said the goody; 'you oughtn't to have stuck it out and in your cap; but you should have stuck it up your shirt-sleeve.'  'Ay! ay! only be still, mother; and I'll be sure to do it next time.'  'And what did you do with the meal, I'd like to know?' said the goody.  'Oh! I did as you bade me, mother. I spread it over the byre-floor.'  'Never heard anything so silly in my born days,' said the goody; 'why, you ought to have gone home for a pail and put it into it.'  'Well! well! only be still, mother,' said the lad; 'and I'll be sure to do it next time.'  Next day the lad was down at the foot of the bridge to take toll, and so there came a man with a horse-load of brandy, and wanted to cross.  'You can't cross till you pay the toll,' said the lad.  'I've got no money,' said the man.  'Well, then, you can't cross; but you have goods, of course,' said the lad.  Yes; so he got half a quart of brandy, and that he poured up his shirt-sleeve. A while after came a man with a drove of goats, and wanted to cross the bridge.  'You can't cross till you pay the toll,' said the lad.  Well! he was no richer than the rest. He had no money; but still he gave the lad a little billy-goat, and he got over with his drove. But the lad took the goat and trod it down into a bucket he had brought with him.  So when he got home, the goody asked again, 'What did you take today?'  'Oh! there came a man with a load of brandy, and from him I got a pint of brandy.'  'And what did you do with it!'  'I did as you bade me, mother; I poured it up my shirt-sleeve.'  'Ay! but that was silly, my son; you should have come home to fetch a bottle and poured it into it.'  'Well! well! be still this time, mother, and I'll be sure to do what you say next time,' and then he went on.  'Next came a man with a drove of goats, and he gave me a little billy-goat, and that I trod down into the bucket.'  'Dear me!' said his mother, 'that was silly, and sillier than silly, my son; you should have twisted a withy round its neck, and led the billy-goat home by it.'  'Well! be still, mother, and see if I don't do as you say next time.'  Next day he set oft for the bridge again to take toll, and so a man came with a load of butter, and wanted to cross. But the lad said he couldn't cross unless he paid toll.  'I've nothing to pay it with,' said the man.  'Well! then you can't cross,' said the lad; 'but you have goods, and I'll take them instead of money.'  So the man gave him a pat of butter, and then he had eave to cross the bridge, and the lad strode off to a grove of willows and twisted a withy, and twined it round the butter, and dragged it home along the road; but so long as he went he left some of the butter behind him, and when he got home there was none left.  'And what did you take today?' asked his mother.  'There came a man with a load of butter, and he gave a pat.'  'Butter!' said the goody, 'Where is it?'  'I did as you bade me, mother,' said the lad. 'I tied a withy round the pat and led it home; but it was all lost by the way.'  'Oh!' said the goody, 'You were born a fool, and you'll die a fool. Now you are not one bit better off for all your toil; but had you been like other folk, you might have had both meat and brandy, and both hay and tools. If you don't know better how to behave, I don't know what's to be done with you. Maybe, you might be more like the rest of the world, and get some sense into you if you were married to some one who could settle things for you, and so I think you had better set off and see about finding a brave lass; but you must be sure you know how to behave well on the way and to greet folk prettily when you meet them.'  'And pray what shall I say to them?' asked the lad.  'To think of your asking that,' said his mother. 'Why, of course, you must bid them 'God's Peace,' Don't you know that?'  'Yes! yes! I'll do as you bid,' said the lad; and so he set off on his way to woo him a wife.  So, when he had gone a bit of the way, he met Greylegs, the wolf, with her seven cubs; and when he got so far as to be alongside them, he stood still and greeted them with 'God's Peace!' and when he had said that, he went home again.  'I said it all as you bade me, mother,' said Matt.  'And what was that?' asked his mother.  'God's Peace,' said Matt.  'And pray whom did you meet?'  'A she wolf with seven cubs; that was all I met,' said Matt.  'Ay! ay! You are like yourself,' said his mother. 'So it was, and so it will ever be. Why in the world did you say 'God's Peace' to a wolf. You should have clapped your hands and said, 'Huf! huf! you jade of a she-wolf!' That's what you ought to have said.'  'Well! well! be still, mother,' he said. I'll be sure to say so another time.'  And with that he strode off from the farm, and when he had gone a bit on the way, he met a bridal train.  So he stood still when he had got well up to the bride and bridegroom, and clapped his hands and said, 'Huf! huf! you jade of a she-wolf!'  After that he went home to his mother and said, 'I did as you bade me mother; but I got a good thrashing for it, that I did.'  'What was it you did?' she asked.  'Oh! I clapped my hands and called out, 'Huf! huf! you jade of a she-wolf!''  'And what was it you met?'  'I met a bridal train.'  'Ah! you are a fool, and always will be a fool,' said his mother. 'Why should you say such things to a bridal train. You should have said, 'Ride happily, bride and bridegroom.''  'Well! well! See if I don't say so next time,' said the lad, and off he went again.  So he met a bear, who was taking a ride on a horse, and Matt waited till he came alongside him, and then he said, 'A happy ride to you, bride and bridegroom,' and then he went back to his mother and told her how he had said what she bade him.  'And pray! what was it you said?' she asked.  'I said, 'A happy ride to you both, bride and bridegroom.''  'And whom did you meet?'  'I met a bear taking a ride on a horse,' said Matt.  'My goodness! what a fool you are,' said his mother. 'You ought to have said, 'To the de'il with you.' That's what you ought to have said.'  'Well! well! mother, I'll be sure to say so next time.'  So he set off again, and this time he met a funeral; and when he had come well up to the coffin, he greeted it and said, 'To the de'il with you!' and then he ran home to his mother, and told her he had said what she bade him.  'And what was that?' she asked.  'Oh! I said, 'To the de'il with you.''  'And what was it you met?'  'I met a funeral,' said Matt; 'but I got more kicks than halfpence!'  'You didn't get half enough,' said the goody. 'Why, of course, you ought to have said, 'May your poor soul have mercy.' That's what you ought to have said.'  'Ay! ay! mother! so I will next time, only be still,' said Matt, and off he went again.  So when he had gone a bit of the way he fell on two ugly Gypsies who were skinning a dog. So when he came up to them he greeted them and said, 'May your poor soul have mercy,' and when he had said so he went home and told his mother he had said what she bade him; but all he got was such a drubbing he could scarce drag one leg after the other.  'But what was it you said?' asked the goody.  ''May your poor soul have mercy,' that was what I said.'  'And whom did you meet?'  'A pair of Gypsies skinning a dog,' he said.  'Well! well!' said the goody. 'There's no hope of your changing. You'll always be a shame and sorrow to us wherever you go. I never heard such shocking words. But now, you must set out and take no notice of any one you meet, for you must be off to woo a wife, and see if you can get some one who knows more of the ways of the world and has a better head on her shoulders than yours. And now you must behave like other folk, and if all goes well you may bless your stars, and bawl out, 'Hurrah!'  Yes, the lad did all that his mother bade him. He set off and wooed a lass, and she thought he couldn't be so bad a fellow after all; and so she said, 'Yes,' she would have him.  When the lad got home the goody wanted to know what his sweetheart's name was; but he did not know. So the goody got angry and said, he must just set off again, for she would know what the girl's name was. So when Matt was going home again he had sense enough to ask her what she was called.  'Well,' she said, 'my name is Solvy; but I thought you knew it already.'  So Matt ran off home, and as he went he mumbled to himself,      Solvy, Solvy,     Is my darling!     Solvy, Solvy,     Is my darling?  But just as he was running as hard as he could to reach home before he forgot it, he tripped over a tuft of grass, and forgot the name again. So when he got on his feet again he began to search all round the hillock, but all he could find was a spade. So he seized it and began to dig and search as hard as he could, and as he was hard at it up came an old man.  'What are you digging for?' said the man. 'Have you lost anything here?'  'Oh yes! oh yes! I have lost my sweetheart's name, and I can't find it again.'  'I think her name is Solvy,' said the man.  'Oh yes, that's it,' said Matt, and away he ran with the spade in his hand, bawling out,      Solvy, Solvy,     Is my darling!  But when he had gone a little way he called to mind that he had taken the spade, and so he threw it behind him, right onto the man's leg. Then the man began to roar and bemoan himself as though he had a knife stuck in him, and then Matt forgot the name again, and ran home as fast as he could, and when he got there, the first thing his mother asked was, 'What's your sweetheart's name?'  But Matt was just as wise as when he set out, for he did not know the name any better the last than the first time.  'You are the same big fool, that you are,' said the goody. 'You won't do any better this time either. But now I'll just set off myself and fetch the girl home, and get you married. Meanwhile you must fetch water up to the fifth plank all round the room, and wash it, and then you must take a little fat and a little lean, and the greenest thing you can find in the cabbage garden, and boil them all up together; and when you have done that you must put yourself into fine feather, and look smart when your lassie comes, and then you may sit down on the dresser.'  Yes, all that Matt thought he could do very well. He fetched water and dashed it about the room in floods, but he couldn't get it to stand above the fourth plank, for when it rose higher it ran out. So he had to leave off that work. But now you must know, they had a dog whose name was Fat, and a cat whose name was Lean. Both these he took and put into the soup-kettle. As for the greenest thing in the garden, it was a green gown which the goody had meant for her daughter-in-law; that he cut up into little bits, and away it went into the pot; but their little pig, which was called All, he cooked by himself in the brewing tub. And when Matt had done all this he laid hands on a pot of treacle and a feather pillow. Then he first of all rubbed himself all over with the treacle, and then he tore open the pillow and rolled himself in the feathers, and then he sat down on the dresser out in the kitchen, till his mother and the lassie came.  Now the first thing the goody missed when she came to her house was the dog, for it always used to meet her out of doors. The next thing was the cat, for it always met her in the porch, and when the weather was right down good and the sun shone, she even came out into the yard, and met her at the garden gate. Nor could she see the green gown she had meant for her daughter-in-law either, and her piggy-wiggy, which followed her grunting wherever she went, he was not there either. So she went in to see about all this; but as soon as ever she lifted the latch, out poured the water through the doorway like a waterfall, so that they were almost borne away by the flood, both the goody and the lassie.  So they had to go round by the back door, and when they got inside the kitchen there sat that figure of fun all befeathered.  'What have you done?' said the goody.  'I did just as you bade me, mother,' said Matt. 'I tried to get the water up to the fifth plank, but as fast as ever I poured it in it ran out again, and so I could only get up as high as the fourth plank.'  'Well! well! but Fat and Lean,' said the goody, who wished to turn it off; 'what have you done with them?'  'I did as you bade me, mother,' said Matt. 'I took and put them into the soup-kettle. They both scratched and bit, and they mewed and whined, and Fat was strong and kicked against it; but he had to go in at last all the same; and as for All, he's cooking by himself in the brewing tub in the brew-house, for there wasn't room for him in the soup-kettle.'  'But what have you done with that new green gown I meant for my daughter-in-law?' said the goody, trying to hide his silliness.  'Oh! I did as you bade me, mother. It hung out in the cabbage-garden, and as it was the greatest thing there, I took it and cut it up small, and yonder it boils in the soup.'  'Away ran the goody to the chimney-corner, tore off the pot and turned it upside down with all that was in it. Then she filled it anew and put it on to boil. But when she had time to look at Matt she was quite shocked.  'Why is it you are such a figure?' she cried.  'I did as you bade me, mother,' said Matt. 'First I rubbed myself all over with treacle to make myself sweet for my bride, and then I tore open the pillow and put myself into fine feathers.'  Well, the goody turned it off as well as she could, and picked off the feathers from her son, and washed him clean, and put fresh clothes on him.  So at last they were to have the wedding, but first Matt was to go to the town and sell a cow to buy things for the bridal. The goody had told him what he was to do, and the beginning and end of what she said was, he was to be sure to get something for the cow. So when he got to the market with the cow, and they asked what he was to have for her, they could get no other answer out of him than that he was to have something for her. So at last came a butcher, who begged him to take the cow and follow him home, and he'd be sure to give him something for her.  Yes, Matt went off with the cow, and when he got to the butcher's house the butcher spat into the palm of Matt's hand, and said, 'There, you have something for your cow, but look sharp after it.'  So off went Matt as carefully as if he trode on eggs, holding his hand shut; but when he had got about as far as the cross-road, which led to their farm, he met the parson, who came driving along.  'Open the gate for me, my lad,' said the parson.  So the lad hastened to open the gate, but in doing so he forgot what he had in his palm, and took the gate by both hands, so that what he got for the cow was left sticking on the gate. So when he saw it was gone he got cross, and said, his reverence had taken something from him.  But when the parson asked him if he had lost his wits, and said he had taken nothing from him, Matt got so wrath he killed the parson at a blow, and buried him in a bog by the wayside.  So when he got home he told his mother all about it, and she slaughtered a billy-goat, and laid it where Matt had laid the parson, but she buried the parson in another place. And when she had done that she hung over the fire a pot of brose, and when it was cooked she made Matt sit down in the ingle and split matches. Meantime she went up on the roof with the pot and poured the brose down the chimney, so that it streamed over her son.  Next day came the sheriff. So when the sheriff asked him, Matt did not gainsay that he had slain the parson, and more, he was quite ready to show the sheriff where he had laid his reverence.  But when the sheriff asked on what day it happened, Matt said, 'It was the day when it rained brose over the whole world.'  So when he got to the spot where he had buried the parson the sheriff pulled out the billy-goat, and asked, 'Had your parson horns?'  Now when the judges heard the story, they made up their minds that the lad was quite out of his wits, and so he got off scot free.  So after all the bridal was to stand, and the goody had a long talk with her son, and bade him be sure to behave prettily when they sat at table. He was not to look too much at the bride, but to cast an eye at her now and then. Peas he might eat by himself, but he must share the eggs with her, and he was not to lay the leg bones by his side on the table, but to place them tidily on his plate.  Yes, Matt would do all that, and he did it well; yes, he did all that his mother bade him, and nothing else. First, he stole out to the sheepfold, and plucked the eyes out of all the sheep and goats he could find, and took them with him. So when they went to dinner he sat with his back to his bride; but all at once he cast a sheep's eye at her so that it hit her full in her face; and a little while after he cast another, and so he went on. As for the eggs he ate them all up to his own cheek, so that the lassie did not get a taste, but when the peas came he shared them with her. And when they had eaten a while Matt put his feet together, and up on his plate went his legs.  At night, when they were to go to bed, the lassie was tired and weary, for she thought it no good to have such a fool for her husband. So she said she had forgotten something and must go out a little; but she could not get Matt's leave; he would follow her, for to tell the truth, he was afraid she would never come back.  'No! no! lie still, I say,' said the bride. 'See, here's a long hair-rope; tie it round me, and I'll leave the door ajar. So if you think I'm too long away you have only to pull the rope and then you'll drag me in again.'  Yes, Matt was content with that; but as soon as the lassie got out into the yard she caught a billy-goat and untied the rope and tied it round him.  So when Matt thought she was too long out of doors he began to haul in the rope, and so he dragged the billy-goat up into bed to him. But when he had lain a while, he bawled out, 'Mother! mother! my bride has horns like a billygoat!'  'Stuff! silly boy to lie and bewail yourself.' said his mother. 'It's only her hair-plaits, poor thing, I'm sure.'  In a little while Matt called out again, 'Mother! mother! my bride has a beard like a goat.'  'Stuff! silly boy to lie there and rave,' said the goody.  But there was no rest in that house that night, for in a little while Matt screeched out that his bride was like a billy-goat all over.  So when it grew towards morning the goody said, 'Jump up, my son, and make a fire.'  So Matt climbed up to a shelf under the roof, and set fire to some straw and chips, and other rubbish that lay there. But then such a smoke rose, that he couldn't bear it any longer indoors. He was forced to go out, and just then the day broke. As for the goody, she too had to make a start of it, and when they got out the house was on fire, so that the flames came right out at the roof.  'Good luck! good luck! Hip, hip, hurrah!' roared out Matt, for he thought it fine fun to have such an ending to his bridal feast.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,Stupid's Mistaken Cries,England,"As told in Essex about the year 1800.  The first episode of this tale is classified as a type 1687 folktale, The Forgotten Word.","George Stephens, 'Two English Folk-Tales,' The Folk-Lore Record, vol. 3, part 2 (London: Printed for the Folk-Lore Society by Messrs. Nichols and Sons, 1881), pp. 153-55.","There was once a little boy, and his mother sent him to buy a sheep's head and pluck; afraid he should forget it, the lad kept saying all the way along:      Sheep's head and pluck!     Sheep's head and pluck!   Trudging along, he came to a stile; but in getting over he fell and hurt himself, and, beginning to blubber, forgot what he was sent for. So he stood a little while to consider; at last he thought he recollected it, and began to repeat:      Liver and lights [lungs] and gall and all!     Liver and lights and gall and all!   Away he went again, and came to where a man was sick, bawling out:      Liver and lights and gall and all!     Liver and lights and gall and all!   Whereon the man laid hold of him and beat him, bidding him say:      Pray God send no more up!     Pray God send no more up!   The youngster strode along, uttering these words, till he reached a field where a hind [farm servant] was sowing wheat:      Pray God send no more up!     Pray God send no more up!   This was all his cry. So the sower began to thrash him, and charged him to repeat:      Pray God send plenty more!     Pray God send plenty more!   Off the child scampered with these words in his mouth till he reached a churchyard and met a funeral, but he went on with his:      Pray God send plenty more!     Pray God send plenty more!   The chief mourner seized and punished him, and bade him repeat:      Pray God send the soul to heaven!     Pray God send the soul to heaven!   Away went the boy, and met a dog and a bitch going to be hung, but his cry rang out:      Pray God send the soul to heaven!     Pray God send the soul to heaven!   The good folk nearly were furious, seized and struck him, charging him to say:      A dog and a bitch a-going to be hung!     A dog and a bitch a-going to be hung!   This the poor fellow did, till he overtook a man and a woman going to be married. 'Oh! oh!' he shouted:      A dog and a bitch a-going to be hung!     A dog and a bitch a-going to be hung!   The man was enraged, as we may well think, gave him many a thump, and ordered him to repeat:      I wish you much joy!     I wish you much joy!   This he did, jogging along, till he came to two labourers who had fallen into a ditch. The lad kept bawling out:      I wish you much joy!     I wish you much joy!   This vexed one of the folk so sorely that he used all his strength, scrambled out, beat the crier, and told him to say:      The one is out, I wish the other was!     The one is out, I wish the other was!   On went young 'un till he found a fellow with only one eye; but he kept up his song:      The one is out, I wish the other was!     The one is out, I wish the other was!   This was too much for Master One-eye, who grabbed him and chastised him, bidding him call:      The one side gives good light, I wish the other did!     The one side gives good light, I wish the other did!   So he did, to be sure, till he came to a house, one side of which was on fire. The people here thought it was he who had set the place a-blazing, and straightway put him in prison. The end was, the judge put on his black cap and condemned him to die.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,The Forgetful Boy,USA,"The first episode of this tale is classified as a type 1687 folktale, The Forgotten Word.","George Lyman Kittredge, 'English Folk-Tales in America,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 3, no. 22 (October - December 1890), pp. 292-93.","A man had a boy who when he was sent of errands would forget what he was sent for. So one day, when he sent him to the butcher's to get a sheep's pluck, to make him remember he told him to keep a saying, 'Heart, liver, and lights [lungs].'  So the boy started, saying, 'Heart, liver, 'n' lights! Heart, liver, 'n' lights!'  By and by he came across a man puking. He took him and gave him a whipping, and said, 'You want I should puke up my heart, liver, and lights, do you?'  'No,' said the boy; 'what shall I say ?' and the man told him to say, 'I wish they may never come up!'  So the boy went on, saying, 'Wish 'ey may never come up! Wish 'ey may never come up!'  By and by he came across a man planting beans, and he took and whipped him and said, 'You wish my beans should never come up, do you?'  The boy said, 'No, what shall I say?'  'Say, 'I wish fifty-fold this year and a hundred-fold next.''  So the boy went on, saying, ' Wish fifty-fold this year, 'n' a hundred-fold next! Wish fifty-fold this year 'n' a hundred-fold next!'  By and by he came across a funeral, and they took and whipped him, and said, 'You wish fifty-fold to die this year and a hundred-fold next, do you?'  The boy said, 'No, what shall I say?'  'Say, 'I wish they may never die!''  So the boy went on, saying, ' Wish 'ey may never die! Wish 'ey may never die!'  By and by he came across a man who was trying to kill two dogs, and he took and whipped him and said, 'You wish the dogs should never die, do you?'  The boy said, 'No, what shall I say?'  'Say, 'The dog and the bitch are going to be hanged!''  So the boy went on, saying, 'The dog 'n' the bitch are gon ter be hanged! The dog 'n' the bitch are gon ter be hanged!'  By and by he came across a wedding party, and they took and whipped him and said, 'You call us dog and bitch, do you?'  The boy said, 'No, what shall I say?'  'Say, 'I wish you may live happily together!''  So the boy went on, saying, 'Wish y' may live happily together! Wish y' may live happily together!'  By and by he came across two men who had fallen into a pit, and one of them had got out and was trying to get the other out. And he took and whipped him and said, 'You wish we may live happily together in this pit, do you?'  The boy said, 'No, what shall I say?'  'Say, 'One's out and I wish the other was out!''  So the boy went on, saying, 'One's out 'n' I wish t' other w's out! One's out 'n' I wish t' other w's out!'  By and by he came across a man with only one eye, and he took and whipped him till he killed him.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,Lazy Jack,England,"Jacobs' source: James Orchard Halliwell-Phillips, Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales: A Sequel to the Nursery Rhymes of England (London: John Russell Smith, 1849), pp. 37-39.","Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1890), no. 27, pp.152-54.","Once upon a time there was a boy whose name was Jack, and he lived with his mother on a common. They were very poor, and the old woman got her living by spinning, but Jack was so lazy that he would do nothing but bask in the sun in the hot weather, and sit by the corner of the hearth in the wintertime. So they called him Lazy Jack.  His mother could not get him to do anything for her, and at last told him, one Monday, that if he did not begin to work for his porridge she would turn him out to get his living as he could.  This roused Jack, and he went out and hired himself for the next day to a neighboring farmer for a penny. But as he was coming home, never having had any money before, he lost it in passing over a brook.  'You stupid boy,' said his mother, 'you should have put it in your pocket.'  'I'll do so another time,' replied Jack.  On Wednesday, Jack went out again and hired himself to a cow-keeper, who gave him a jar of milk for his day's work. Jack took the jar and put it into the large pocket of his jacket, spilling it all, long before he got home.  'Dear me!' said the old woman. 'You should have carried it on your head.'  'I'll do so another time,' said Jack.  So on Thursday, Jack hired himself again to a farmer who agreed to give him a cream cheese for his services. In the evening Jack took the cheese, and went home with it on his head. By the time he got home the cheese was all spoiled, part of it being lost, and part matted with his hair.  'You stupid lout,' said his mother, 'you should have carried it very carefully in your hands.'  'I'll do another time,' replied Jack.  On Friday Lazy Jack again went out, and hired himself to a baker, who would give him nothing for his work but a large tomcat. Jack took the cat, and began carrying it very carefully in his hands, but in a short time pussy scratched him so much that he was compelled to let it go.  When he got home, his mother said to him, 'You silly fellow, you should have tied it with a string, and dragged it along after you.'  'I'll do so another time,' said Jack.  So on Saturday Jack hired himself to a butcher, who rewarded him by the handsome present of a shoulder of mutton. Jack took the mutton, tied it to a string and trailed it along after him in the dirt, so that by the time he had got home the meat was completely spoiled.  His mother was this time quite out of patience with him, for the next day was Sunday, and she was obliged to do with cabbage for her dinner. 'You ninny-hammer,' said she to her son, 'you should have carried it on your shoulder.'  'I'll do so another time,' replied Jack.  On the next Monday Lazy Jack went once more, and hired himself to a cattle-keeper, who gave him a donkey for his trouble. Jack found it hard to hoist the donkey on his shoulders, but at last he did it, and began walking slowly home with his prize.  Now it happened that in the course of his journey there lived a rich man with his only daughter, a beautiful girl, but deaf and dumb. Now she had never laughed in her life, and the doctors said she would never speak till somebody made her laugh. This young lady happened to be looking out of the window when jack was passing with the donkey on his shoulders, with the legs sticking up in the air, and the sight was so comical and strange that she burst out into a great fit of laughter, and immediately recovered her speech and hearing. Her father was overjoyed, and fulfilled his promise by marrying her to Lazy Jack, who was thus made a rich gentleman. They lived in a large house, and Jack's mother lived with them in great happiness until she died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,Jock and His Mother,Scotland,NA,"Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, new edition (London and Edinburgh: W. and R. Chambers, 1870), pp. 101-103.","There was a wife that had a son, and they ca'd him Jock; and she said to him: 'You are a lazy fallow; ye maun gang awa' and do something for to help me.'  'Weel,' says Jock, 'I'll do that.'  So awa' he gangs, and fa's in wi' a packman. Says the packman: 'If ye carry my pack a' day, I'll gie ye a needle at night.'  So he carried the pack, and got the needle; and as he was gaun awa' hame to his mither, he cuts a burden o' brakens, and put the needle into the heart o' them. Awa' he gaes hame.  Says his mither: 'What hae ye made o' yersel' the day?'  Says Jock: 'I fell in wi' a packman, and carried his pack a' day, and he ga'e me a needle for't; and ye may look for it amang the brakens.'  'Hout,' quo' she, 'ye daft gowk, ye should hae stuck it into your bonnet, man.'  'I'll mind that again,' quo' Jock.  Next day he fell in wi' a man carrying plough socks. 'If ye help me to carry my socks a' day, I'll gie ye ane to yersel' at night.'  'I'll do that,' quo' Jock.  Jock carries them a' day, and gets a sock, which he sticks in his bonnet. On the way hame, Jock was dry, and gaed awa' to tak a drink out o' the burn; and wi' the weight o' the sock, it fell into the river, and gaed out o' sight.  He gaed hame, and his mother says: 'Weel, Jock, what hae ye been doing a' day?'  And then he tells her.  'Hout,' quo' she, 'ye should hae tied a string to it, and trailed it behind you.'  'Weel,' quo' Jock, 'I'll mind that again.  Awa' he sets, and he fa's in wi' a flesher. 'Weel,' says the flesher, 'if ye'll be my servant a' day, I'll gie ye a leg o' mutton at night.'  'I'll be that,' quo' Jock.  He gets a leg o' mutton at night; he ties a string to it, and trails it behind him the hale road hame.  'What hae ye been doing?' said his mither.  He tells her.  'Hout, ye fool, ye should hae carried it on your shouther.'  'I'll mind that again,' quo' Jock.  Awa' he goes next day, and meets a horse-dealer. He says: 'If ye will help me wi' my horses a' day, I'll gie ye ane to yersel' at night.'  'I'll do that,' quo' Jock. So he served him, and got his horse, and he ties its feet; but as he was not able to carry it on his back, he left it lying on the roadside.  Hame he comes, and tells his mother.  'Hout, ye daft gowk, ye'll ne'er turn wise! Could ye no hae loupen on it, and ridden it?'  'I'll mind that again,' quo' Jock.  Aweel, there was a grand gentleman, wha had a daughter wha was very subject to melancholy; and her father gave out that whaever should make her laugh would get her in marriage. So it happened that she was sitting at the window ae day, musing in her melancholy state, when Jock, according to the advice o' his mither, came flying up on the cow's back, wi' the tail owre his shouther. And she burst out into a fit o' laughter. When they made inquiry wha made her laugh, it was found to be Jock riding on the cow. Accordingly, Jock is sent for to get his bride.  Weel, Jock is married to her, and there was a great supper prepared. Amongst the rest o' the things there was some honey, which Jock was very fond o'. After supper, they were bedded, and the auld priest that married them sat up a' night by the fireside.  So Jock waukens in the night-time, and says: 'O wad ye gie me some o' yon nice sweet honey that we got to our supper last night?'  'O ay,' says his wife; 'rise and gang into the press, and ye'll get a pig fou o't.'  Jock rises, and thrusts his hand into the honey-pig for a nievefu' o't; and he could not get it out. So he came awa' wi' the pig on his hand, like a mason's mell, and says: 'Oh, I canna get my hand out.'  'Hout,' quo' she, 'gang awa' and break it on the cheek-stane.'  By this time the fire was dark, and the auld priest was lying snoring wi' his head against the chimney-piece, wi' a huge white wig on. Jock gaes awa', and ga'e him a whack wi' the honey-pig on the head, thinking it was the cheek-stane, and knocks it a' in bits.  The auld priest roars out 'Murder!'  Jock taks down the stair as hard as he can bicker, and hides himsel' amang the bees' skeps.  That night, as luck wad have it, some thieves came to steal the bees' skeps, and in the hurry o' tumbling them into a large gray plaid, they tumbled Jock in alang wi' them. So aff they set, wi' Jock and the skeps on their backs. On the way, they had to cross the burn where Jock lost his bannet.  Ane o' the thieves cries: 'O I hae fand a bannet!' and Jock, on hearing that, cries out: 'O that's mine!'  They thocht they had got the deil on their backs. So they let a' fa' in the burn; and Jock, being tied in the plaid, couldna get out; so he and the bees were a' drowned thegither.  If a' tales be true, that's nae lee.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,I'll Be Wiser the Next Time,Ireland,NA,"Patrick Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts (London: Macmillan and Company, 1866), pp. 39-42.","Jack was twenty years old before he done any good for his family. So at last his mother said it was high time for him to begin to be of some use. So the next market day she sent him to Bunclody (Newtownbarry), to buy a billhook to cut the furze. When he was coming back he kep' cutting gaaches with it round his head, till at last it flew out of his hand, and killed a lamb that a neighbour was bringing home. Well, if he did, so sure was his mother obliged to pay for it, and Jack was in disgrace.  'Musha, you fool,' says she, 'couldn't you lay the billhook in a car, or stick it into a bundle of hay or straw that any of the neighbours would be bringing home?'  'Well, mother,' said he, 'it can't be helped now; I'll be wiser next time.'  'Now, Jack,' says she, the next Saturday, 'you behaved like a fool the last time; have some wit about you now, and don't get us into a hobble. Here is a fi'penny bit, and buy me a good pair (set) of knitting needles, and fetch 'em home safe.'  'Never fear, mother.'  When Jack was outside the town, coming back, he overtook a neighbour sitting on the side-lace of his car, and there was a big bundle of hay in the bottom of it.  'Just the safe thing,' says Jack, sticking the needles into it. When he came home he looked quite proud out of his good management.  'Well, Jack,' says his mother, 'where's the needles?'  'Oh, faith ! they're safe enough. Send any one down to Jem Doyle's, and he'll find them in the bundle of hay that's in the car.'  'Musha, purshuin to you, Jack! why couldn't you stick them in the band o' your hat? What searching there will be for them in the hay!'  'Sure you said I ought to put any things I was bringing home in a car, or stick 'em in hay or straw. Anyhow I'll be wiser next time.'  Next week Jack was sent to a neighbour's house about a mile away, for some of her nice fresh butter. The day was hot, and Jack remembering his mother's words, stuck the cabbage leaf that held the butter between his hat and the band. He was luckier this turn than the other turns, for he brought his errand safe in his hair and down along his clothes. There's no pleasing some people, however, and his mother was so vexed that she was ready to beat him.  There was so little respect for Jack's gumption in the whole village after this, that he wasn't let go to market for a fortnight. Then his mother trusted him with a pair of young fowl. 'Now don't be too eager to snap at the first offer you'll get; wait for the second any way, and above all things keep your wits about you.'  Jack got to the market safe.  'How do you sell them fowl, honest boy?'  My mother bid me ax three shillings for 'em, but sure herself said I wouldn't get it.'  'She never said a truer word. Will you have eighteen pence?'  'In throth an' I won't; she ordhered me to wait for a second offer.'  'And very wisely she acted; here is a shilling.'  'Well now, I think it would be wiser to take the eighteen pence, but it is better for me at any rate to go by her bidding, and then she can't blame me.'  Jack was in disgrace for three weeks after making that bargain; and some of the neighbours went so far as to say that Jack's mother didn't show much more wit than Jack himself.'  She had to send him, however, next market day to sell a young sheep, and says she to him, 'Jack, I'll have your life if you don't get the highest penny in the market for that baste.'  'Oh, won't I!' says Jack.  Well, when he was standing in the market, up comes a jobber, and asks him what he'd take for the sheep.  'My mother won't be satisfied,' says Jack, 'if I don't bring her home the highest penny in the market.'  'Will a guinea note do you?' says the other.  'Is it the highest penny in the market?' says Jack.  'No, but here's the highest penny in the market,' says a sleeveen that was listenin', getting up on a high ladder that was restin' again' the market house. 'Here's the highest penny, and the sheep is mine.'  Well, if the poor mother wasn't heart-scalded this time it's no matter. She said she'd never lose more than a shilling a turn by him again while she lived; but she had to send him for some groceries next Saturday for all that, for it was Christmas eve.  'Now, Jack,' says she, 'I want some cinnamon, mace, and cloves, and half a pound of raisins; will you be able to think of 'em?'  'Able, indeed! I'll be repatin' 'em every inch o' the way, and that won't let me forget them.'  So he never stopped as he ran along, saying 'cinnamon, mace, and cloves, and half a pound of raisins;' and this time he'd have come home in glory, only he struck his foot again' a stone, and fell down, and hurt himself.  At last he got up, and as he went limping on he strove to remember his errand, but it was changed in his mind to 'pitch, and tar, and turpentine, and half a yard of sacking. Pitch, and tar, and turpentine, and half a yard of sacking.'  These did not help the Christmas dinner much, and his mother was so tired of minding him that she sent him along with a clever black man (matchmaker), up to the county Carlow, to get a wife to take care of him.  Well, the black man never let him open his mouth all the time the coortin' was goin' on; and at last the whole party -- his friends, and her friends, were gathered into the priest's parlour. The black man staid close to him for 'fraid he'd do a bull; and when Jack was married half a year, if he thought his life was bad enough before, he thought it ten times worse now; and told his mother if she'd send his wife back to her father, he'd never make a mistake again going to fair or market. But the wife cock-crowed over the mother as well as over Jack; and if they didn't live happy, THAT WE MAY!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,The Fool's Good Fortune,Georgia,The episode of the robbers under the tree is categorized as Aarne-Thompson type 1653.,"Marjory Wardrop, Georgian Folk Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 165-167.","A certain man died and left three sons. One was altogether a fool, another was fairly intelligent, and the third was rather clever. This being so, it was of course difficult for them to live together. In dividing the inheritance among them, the fool was cheated, and in regard to the cattle he was thus duped: There were three entrances to the pen, two open and one very narrow. The two clever brothers proposed to drive the beasts out of all three at once; those that issued from the small gap were to belong to the fool. In this way the latter's share was only one young bull out of the whole flock. But to his feeble mind the division seemed fair enough, so he contentedly drove his bull out into the forest, and tied it with a stout rope to a young tree, whilst he himself wandered aimlessly about.  Three days later, the fool went to see his beast. It had eaten and drunk nothing, but had pulled the tree up by the roots, and laid bare a jar full of old gold coins. The fool was delighted, and played with the money for a time. Then he resolved to take the jar and present it to the king. As he passed along the road, every wayfarer looked into the pot, took out the gold in handfuls, and so that he should not notice their thefts, filled it up with stones and blocks of wood. On reaching the palace, the fool asked for an audience of the king, and it was granted. He emptied out the contents of the jar at the feet of the king. When the courtiers saw the wrath of the king, they took the fool away and beat him. When he had recovered himself he asked why he had been thrashed. One of the bystanders, for fun, cried to him, 'You have been beaten because you labor in vain.'  The fool went his way, muttering the words, 'You labor in vain.' As he passed a peasant who was reaping, he repeated his phrase again and again, until the peasant grew angry, and thrashed him. The fool asked why he had been beaten, and what he ought to have said.  'You ought to have said, 'God give you a good harvest!''  The fool went on, saying 'God give you a good harvest!' and met a funeral. Again he was beaten, and again he asked what he should say.  They replied that he should have said, 'Heaven rest your soul!' He then came to a wedding, and saluted the newly married couple with this funereal phrase.  Again he was beaten, and then told that he should say, 'Be fruitful and multiply!'  His next visit was to a monastery, and he accosted every monk with his new salutation. They too gave him a thrashing, with such vigor that the fool determined to have his revenge by stealing of the bells from their belfry. So he hid himself until the monks had gone to rest, and then carried off a bell of moderate size.  He went into the forest, climbed a tree, and hung the bell on the branches, ringing it from time to time, partly to amuse himself and partly to frighten away wild beasts. In the forest there was a gang of robbers, who were assembled to share their booty, and had just ended a merry banquet. Suddenly they heard the sound of the bell, and were much afraid. They took counsel as to what was to be done, and most of them were for flight, but the oldest of the band advised them to send a scout to see what was wrong. The bravest among them was sent to get information, and the rest remained as quiet as possible.  The brigand went on tiptoe through the bushes to the tree where the fool was, and respectfully asked, 'Who are you? If you are an angel sent by God to punish our wickedness, pray spare us and we shall repent. If you are a devil from hell, come and share with us.'  The fool was not so stupid that he did not see he had to deal with robbers, so he took out a knife, tolled the bell, and then said with a grave air, 'If you wish to know who I am, climb the tree and show me your tongue, so that I may mark on it who I am and what I ask of you.'  The robber obediently climbed the tree, and put out his tongue as far as he could. The fool cut off his tongue, and kicked him to the ground. The robber, mad with pain, and frightened by his sudden fall, ran off howling. His comrades had come out to meet him, and when they saw the plight he was in, they ran off in terror, leaving their wealth. Next morning the fool found the booty, and without saying anything to anybody, took it home and became much richer than his brothers. The fool built three palaces: one for himself, one for me, and one for you. There is merrymaking in the fool's palace. Come and be one of the guests!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
1696,A Stupid Boy,Kashmir,NA,"J. Hinton Knowles, Folk-Tales of Kashmir (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner and Company, 1893), pp. 189-90.","A poor widow's misery was increased by the knowledge that her son, her only son, around whom she had built up many many hopes, was a half-wit.  One day she sent him to the bazaar with some cloth and told him to sell it for four rupees. The boy went, and sat down in the most public thoroughfare of the city.  'How much do you want for that piece of cloth?' asked a man.  'Four rupees,' replied the boy.  'All right. I'll give you six rupees for it. It is worth it. Here, take the money.'  'No, no,' said the boy. 'Its price is four rupees.'  'You scamp!' exclaimed the man angrily, and went on. He thought the boy was joking with him.  On reaching home in the evening he informed his mother of this incident, and she was grieved that he had not taken the money.  Another day she sent him to the bazaar, and advised him to salaam everybody, saying that nothing was ever lost by politeness, but, on the contrary, everything was sometimes gained by it. The stupid boy sallied forth, and began making salaams to everybody and everything he met -- a sweeper, a horse, some little children, a house. A number of asses, too, passed by with loads on their backs, and he said 'Salaam' to them also.  'Hey! You fool! What are you doing?' said the donkey-driver in charge. 'Don't you know that we say 'Fri fri?' [an exclamation used for urging on donkeys], whereupon the boy commenced saying 'Fri fri' to every person and thing. He passed a man who had just spread a snare for a bird that he very much wished to catch, when 'Fri fri' shouted the boy, and most effectually frightened away the bird.  'You blackguard! What are you doing?' said the man. 'You should say 'Lag lag' in a very soft tone.'  Then the boy began to say 'Lag lag.' He was wandering about crying 'Lag lag' when he came across some thieves coming out of a garden, where they had just been stealing the fruit.  'What do you mean?' said they. 'Be quiet, you fool, or say something else. Go and shout, 'Let go one and take the other.''  So the boy did, and while he was shouting these words a funeral cortege passed by.  'Be quiet,' said some of the mourners. 'Have you so little respect for the dead? Get along home.'  At length, disappointed and disheartened, not knowing what to do or what to say, the half-wit returned to his mother and told her everything.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,Why the Bear Is Stumpy-Tailed,Norway,NA,"Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Jørgen Engebretsen Moe, Popular Tales from the Norse (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1859), no. 20, p. 155.","One day the bear met the fox, who came slinking along with a string of fish he had stolen.  'Whence did you get those from?' asked the bear.  'Oh! my Lord Bruin, I've been out fishing and caught them,' said the fox.  So the bear had a mind to learn to fish too, and bade the fox tell him how he was to set about it.  'Oh! it's an easy craft for you,' answered the fox, and soon learnt. You've only got to go upon the ice, and cut a hole and stick your tail down into it; and so you must go on holding it there as long as you can. You're not to mind if your tail smarts a little; that's when the fish bite. The longer you hold it there the more fish you'll get; and then all at once out with it, with a cross pull sideways, and with a strong pull too.'  Yes; the bear did as the fox had said, and held his tail a long, long time down in the hole, till it was fast frozen in. Then he pulled it out with a cross pull, and it snapped short off. That's why Bruin goes about with a stumpy tail this very day.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,How the Wolf Lost His Tail,Scotland,"This is manifestly the same as the Norse story 'Why the Bear Is Stumpy-Tailed,' and it errs in ascribing a stumpy tail to the wolf. There was not time for the 'Norse Tales' to become known to the people who told the story, so perhaps this may be a Norse tradition transferred from the bear to the wolf.","J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands: Orally Collected, vol. 1 (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1860), pp. 272-73..","One day the wolf and the fox were out together, and they stole a dish of crowdie. Now the wolf was the biggest beast of the two, and he had a long tail like a greyhound, and great teeth.  The fox was afraid of him, and did not dare to say a word when the wolf ate the most of the crowdie, and left only a little at the bottom of the dish for him, but he determined to punish him for it; so the next night when they were out together the fox said, 'I smell a very nice cheese, and (pointing to the moonshine on the ice) there it is too.'  'And how will you get it?' said the wolf.  'Well, stop you here till I see if the farmer is asleep, and if you keep your tail on it, nobody will see you or know that it is there. Keep it steady. I may be some time coming back.'  So the wolf lay down and laid his tail on the moonshine in the ice, and kept it for an hour till it was fast.  Then the fox, who had been watching him, ran in to the farmer and said, 'The wolf is there; he will eat up the children -- the wolf! the wolf!'  Then the farmer and his wife came out with sticks to kill the wolf, but the wolf ran off leaving his tail behind him, and that's why the wolf is stumpy tailed to this day, though the fox has a long brush.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,Reynard and Bruin,Europe,This composite tale (restored from various sources and retold by Joseph Jacobs) consists of the following tale types:      'The Theft of Food by Playing Godfather' (type 15).      'The Theft of Fish' (type 1).      'The Tail-Fisher' (type 2).      'Sick Animal Carries the Healthy One' (type 4).      'Biting the Tree Root' (type 5).      'The Fox and His Members' (type 154).,"Joseph Jacobs, Europa's Fairy Book [also published under the title European Folk and Fairy Tales], (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1916), pp. 42-50.","You must know that once upon a time Reynard the Fox and Bruin the Bear went into partnership and kept house together. Would you like to know the reason? Well, Reynard knew that Bruin had a beehive full of honeycomb, and that was what he wanted; but Bruin kept so close a guard upon his honey that Master Reynard didn't know how to get away from him and get hold of the honey.  So one day he said to Bruin, 'Pardner, I have to go and be gossip -- that means godfather, you know -- to one of my old friends.'  'Why, certainly,' said Bruin.  So off Reynard goes into the woods, and after a time he crept back and uncovered the beehive and had such a feast of honey. Then he went back to Bruin, who asked him what name had been given to the child. Reynard had forgotten all about the christening and could only say, 'Just-begun.'  'What a funny name,' said Master Bruin.  A little while after Reynard thought he would like another feast of honey. So he told Bruin that he had to go to another christening; and off he went. And when he came back and Bruin asked him what was the name given to the child Reynard said, 'Half-eaten.'  The third time the same thing occurred, and this time the name given by Reynard to the child that didn't exist was 'All-gone.' You can guess why.  A short time afterwards Master Bruin thought he would like to eat up some of his honey and asked Reynard to come and join him in the feast. When they got to the beehive Bruin was so surprised to find that there was no honey left; and he turned round to Reynard and said, 'Just-begun, Half- eaten, All-gone -- so that is what you meant; you have eaten my honey.'  'Why no,' said Reynard, 'how could that be? I have never stirred from your side except when I went a-gossiping, and then I was far away from here. You must have eaten the honey yourself, perhaps when you were asleep; at any rate we can easily tell; let us lie down here in the sunshine, and if either of us has eaten the honey, the sun will soon sweat it out of us.'  No sooner said than done, and the two lay side by side in the sunshine. Soon Master Bruin commenced to doze, and Mr. Reynard took some honey from the hive and smeared it round Bruin's snout; then he woke him up and said, 'See, the honey is oozing out of your snout; you must have eaten it when you were asleep.'  Some time after this Reynard saw a man driving a cart full of fish, which made his mouth water. So he ran and he ran and he ran till he got far away in front of the cart and lay down in the road as still as if he were dead.  When the man came up to him and saw him lying there dead, as he thought, he said to himself, 'Why, that will make a beautiful red fox scarf and muff for my wife Ann.'  And he got down and seized hold of Reynard and threw him into the cart all along with the fish, and then he went driving on as before. Reynard began to throw the fish out till there were none left, and then he jumped out himself without the man noticing it, who drove up to his door and called out, 'Ann, Ann, see what I have brought you.'  And when his wife came to the door she looked into the cart and said, 'Why, there is nothing there.'  Reynard in the meantime had brought all his fish together and began eating some when up comes Bruin and asked for a share.  'No, no,' said Reynard, 'we only share food when we have shared work. I fished for these, you go and fish for others.'  'Why, how could you fish for these? The water is all frozen over,' said Bruin.  'I'll soon show you,' said Reynard, and brought him down to the bank of the river, and pointed to a hole in the ice and said, 'I put my tail in that, and the fish were so hungry I couldn't draw them up quick enough. Why do you not do the same?'  So Bruin put his tail down and waited and waited but no fish came. 'Have patience, man,' said Reynard; 'as soon as one fish comes the rest will follow.'  'Ah, I feel a bite,' said Bruin, as the water commenced to freeze round his tail and caught it in the ice.  'Better wait till two or three have been caught and then you can catch three at a time. I'll go back and finish my lunch.'  And with that Master Reynard trotted up to the man's wife and said to her, 'Ma'am, there's a big black bear caught by the tail in the ice; you can do what you like with him.'  So the woman called her husband and they took big sticks and went down to the river and commenced whacking Bruin who, by this time, was fast in the ice. He pulled and he pulled and he pulled, till at last he got away leaving three quarters of his tail in the ice, and that is why bears have such short tails up to the present day.  Meanwhile Master Reynard was having a great time in the man's house, golloping everything he could find till the man and his wife came back and found him with his nose in the cream jug. As soon as he heard them come in he tried to get away, but not before the man had seized hold of the cream jug and thrown it at him, just catching him on the tail, and that is the reason why the tips of foxes' tails are cream white to this very day.  Well, Reynard crept home and found Bruin in such a state, who commenced to grumble and complain that it was all Reynard's fault that he had lost his tail.  So Reynard pointed to his own tail and said, 'Why, that's nothing; see my tail; they hit me so hard upon the head my brains fell out upon my tail. Oh, how bad I feel; won't you carry me to my little bed.'  So Bruin, who was a good-hearted soul, took him upon his back and rolled with him towards the house. And as he went on Reynard kept saying, 'The sick carries the sound, the sick carries the sound.'  'What's that you are saying?' asked Bruin.  'Oh, I have no brains left, I do not know what I am saying,' said Reynard but kept on singing, 'The sick carries the sound, ha, ha, the sick carries the sound.'  Then Bruin knew that he had been done and threw Reynard down upon the ground, and would have eaten him up but that the fox slunk away and rushed into a briar bush. Bruin followed him closely into the briar bush and caught Reynard's hind leg in his mouth. Then Reynard called out, 'That's right, you fool, bite the briar root, bite the briar root.'  Bruin thinking that he was biting the briar root, let go Reynard's foot and snapped at the nearest briar root. 'That's right, now you've got me, don't hurt me too much,' called out Reynard, and slunk away. 'Don't hurt me too much, don't hurt me too much.'  When Bruin heard Reynard's voice dying away in the distance he knew that he had been done again, and that was the end of their partnership.  Some time after this a man was plowing in the field with his two oxen, who were very lazy that day. So the man called out at them, 'Get a move on or I'll give you to the bear'; and when they didn't quicken their pace he tried to frighten them by calling out, 'Bear, Bear, come and take these lazy oxen.'  Sure enough, Bruin heard him and came out of the woods and said, 'Here I am, give me the oxen, or else it'll be worse for you.'  The man was in despair but said, 'Yes, yes, of course they are yours, but please let me finish my morning's plowing so I may finish this acre.'  Bruin could not say 'No' to that, and sat down licking his chops and waiting for the oxen. The man went on plowing, thinking what he should do, when just at the corner of the field Reynard came up to him and said, 'If you will give me two geese, I'll help you out of this fix and deliver the bear into your hands.'  The man agreed and he told him what to do and went away into the woods. Soon after, the bear and the man heard a noise like 'bow-wow, bow-wow'; and the Bear came to the man and said, 'What's that?'  'Oh, that must be the lord's hounds out hunting for bears.'  'Hide me, hide me,' said Bruin, 'and I will let you off the oxen.'  Then Reynard called out from the wood, 'What's that black thing you've got there?'  And the Bear said, 'Say it's the stump of a tree.'  So when the man had called this out to the fox, Reynard called out, 'Put it in the cart; fix it with the chain; cut off the boughs, and drive your axe into the stump.'  Then the bear said to the man, 'Pretend to do what he bids you; heave me into the cart; bind me with the chain; pretend to cut off the boughs, and drive the axe into the stump.'  So the man lifted Bruin into the cart, bound him with the chain, then cut off his limbs and buried the axe in his head.  Then Reynard came forward and asked for his reward, and the man went back to his house to get the pair of geese that he had promised.  'Wife, wife,' he called out, as he neared the house, 'get me a pair of geese, which I have promised the fox for ridding me of the bear.'  'I can do better than that,' said his wife Ann, and brought him out a bag with two struggling animals in it.  'Give these to Master Reynard,' said she; 'they will be geese enough for him.' So the man took the bag and went down to the field and gave the bag to Reynard, but when he opened it out sprang two hounds, and he had great trouble in running away from them to his den.  When he got to his den the fox asked each of his limbs, how they had helped him in his flight. His nose said, 'I smelt the hounds'; his eyes said, 'We looked for the shortest way'; his ears said, 'We listened for the breathing of the hounds'; and his legs said, 'We ran away with you.'  Then he asked his tail what it had done, and it said, 'Why, I got caught in the bushes or made your leg stumble; that is all I could do.'  So, as a punishment, the fox stuck his tail out of his den, and the hounds saw it and caught hold of it, and dragged the fox out of his den by it and ate him all up. So that was the end of Master Reynard, and well he deserved it. Don't you think so?",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,Why the Bear Has a Stumpy Tail,Flanders,"Flanders is the northern part of Belgium, where the native language is Flemish (Dutch).","Jean de Bossch�re, Folk Tales of Flanders (New York: Dodd, Mean and Company, 1918), pp. 168-72.","One very cold winter, when the ground was covered with snow and the ponds and rivers were frozen hard, Reynard the Fox and all the other animals went out to enjoy themselves by sliding and skating on the ice. After a time Reynard began to feel hungry, so he wandered off by himself in search of something to eat. He nosed about here, and he nosed about there; he lay in wait behind bushes in the hope of being able to catch a bird; he lurked by the walls of farmhouses ready to spring out upon any unsuspecting chicken that might show itself, but all in vain. The birds were wary, and the fowls were all safe in the hen houses.  Disappointed with his lack of success Reynard betook himself to the river, now covered with a glistening sheet of ice, and there, under the shelter of a bank, he found a hole in the ice which had not been frozen over. He sat down to watch the hole, and presently a little fish popped up its head for a breath of air. Reynard's paw darted, and the next moment the unfortunate creature lay gasping on the ice. Fish after fish the fox caught in this way, and when he had quite satisfied his hunger he strung the remainder on a stick and took his departure, not forgetting first of all to offer up a prayer for the repose of his victims.  He had not gone far before he met Mrs. Bruin, who had also come out in search of something to eat. When she saw Reynard with his fine catch of fish, she opened her eyes, I can tell you, and said, 'Wherever did you get all those fine fishes from, cousin? They make my mouth water! I am so hungry that I could bite the head off an iron nail!'  'Ah,' said Reynard slyly, 'wouldn't you just like to know!'  'It is what I'm asking you,' said Mrs. Bruin. 'You would surely not be so mean as to keep the good news to yourself!'  'I don't know so much about that,' answered Reynard, 'but I have a certain fondness for you, cousin, so come along with me and I will show you the place where I caught the fish.'  Nothing loath, the bear followed, and presently they came to the hole in the ice.  'Do you see that hole, cousin?' said Reynard. 'That is where the fish come up to breathe. All you have to do is to sit on the ice and let your tail hang down into the water. After a time the fish will come to bite at it, but don't you move. Sit quite still until the evening; then you will find a score of fishes on your tail and you can pull them out all together.'  Mrs. Bruin was delighted with the plan and immediately sat down and dipped her tail into the water.  'That's the way,' said Reynard. 'Now I'll just be walking home to see to my dinner, but I'll be back presently. Be careful to keep quite still, or you ll spoil everything!'  So for the next three hours Mrs. Bruin sat on the ice with her tail in the water, and very cold it was, but she consoled herself with the thought of the delicious meal she would have when the fish were landed.  Reynard returned. ' Well, cousin,' siad he, 'how do you feel?'  'Very cold,' said Mrs. Bruin, with her teeth chattering. 'My tail is so numb that I hardly know I've got one!'  'Doe it feel heavy?' asked Reynard anxiously.  'Very heavy,' said Mrs. Bruin.  'There mus be hundreds of fish on it!' said Reynard.  He left the bank and walked round the bear, observing that the water in the hole had frozen over, and the Mrs. Bruin's tail was hel firmly in the ice.  'I think you may safely pull up now,' he went on, 'but you must be careful to land all the fish together. There is only one way to do that: you must give a strong, sharp, sudden pull and take them by surprise. Now then, are you ready? One, two, three . . . !'  At the word three Mrs. Bruin rose on her hind legs and gave a mighty jerk, but her tail was so firmly embedded in the ice that it would not come out.  'My word,' cried Reynard, 'you have caught the whole river-full. Persevere, cousin now then, a long pull and a strong pull!'  'Ouf!' grunted Mrs. Bruin, 'ouf, ouf . . . ah!'  And then she suddenly tumbled head over heels on the ice, as with one mighty jerk, she snapped her beautiful bushy tail clean off close to the roots.  When she had gathered her scattered wits together well enough to understand what had happened, she went to look for Reynard, but he had suddenly remembered an important engagement elsewhere, and was not to be found. And from that time down to this every bear has been born with a little stumpy tail.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,The Hare and the Fox,Germany,"Translated by D. L. Ashliman. © 2009.  Ludwig Bechstein (1801-1860), was a popular collector and editor of folktales. This story combines two tale types: 'The Theft of Fish' (type 1). 'The Tail-Fisher' (type 2).","Ludwig Bechstein, 'Der Hase und der Fuchs,' Ludwig Bechstein's Märchenbuch, illustrated by Ludwig Richter. 32nd edition (Leipzig: Verlag von Georg Wigand, 1879), pp. 120-22.","A hare and a fox were traveling together. It was wintertime. Nothing green was growing, and neither mice nor lice were creeping afield.  'This is hungry weather,' said the fox to the hare. 'My insides are all knotted together.'  'Yes, indeed,' answered the hare. 'There are hard times everywhere. I would eat my own ears if I could get them into my mouth.'  Thus they marched hungrily onward together. Then in the distance they saw a peasant girl approaching them. She was carrying a basket, and the fox and the hare sensed a pleasant smell coming from the basket, the smell of fresh bread rolls.  'Do you know what!' said the fox. 'Lie down and pretend to be dead. The girl will set her basket down and pick you up for your poor pelt, because hare pelts can be made into gloves. Meanwhile I'll make off with the basket of rolls, all for our benefit.'  The hare did what the fox suggested: he fell down and pretended to be dead. The fox hid behind a snowdrift. The girl came and saw the hare with all four legs stretched out. She set down the basket, and bent over the hare. The fox quickly snatched up the basket and ran off across the field. The hare immediately came to life and hurried after his companion.  However, the fox showed no sign of sharing the rolls, but instead made it clear that he intended to eat all of them by himself. This did not please the hare at all.  They were approaching a small pond, and the hare said to the fox, 'Why don't we catch some fish for our meal? Then we could have fish with white bread, just like grand gentlemen! Just lower your tail into the water, then the fish, who themselves don't have much to eat these days, will grab onto it. But you'd better hurry, before the pond freezes over.'  The fox thought that this was a good plan, so he went to the pond, which was just about to freeze over, and hung his tail into the water. In a short time the fox's tail was frozen tightly in the ice. Then the hare took the basket of rolls and slowly ate them, one after the other, before the fox's eyes.  Finally he said to the fox, 'Just wait until it thaws! Just wait until springtime! Just wait until it thaws!'  And then he ran away, leaving the fox yelping after him, yelping like an angry dog on a chain.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,The Wolf's Unfortunate Fishing Trip,Germany/Poland,Translated by D. L. Ashliman. © 2009.,"Karl Haupt, 'Des Wolfes unglücklicher Fischfang,' Sagenbuch der Lausitz, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Verlag von Wilhelm Engelmann, 1863), no. 312, pp. 208-209.","The wolf and the fox were traveling together. It was very cold.  The fox said, 'I have a good pelt, but I am still freezing.'  The wolf said, 'I have always heard that it is warm where the girls hang out. Let's go to the spinning room.'  The fox said, 'For all I care.'  So they went there, and the wolf began flirting with the girls, while the fox made himself comfortable next to the stove. He had a great appetite for something delicious. He crept around here and there, but couldn't sniff up anything. So he went outside, intending to take a boat ride. Someone was just passing by with a wagonload of herrings. The fox jumped onto the wagon, opened a tub, and threw out most of the herrings that were in it. Then he jumped down and ate up all the herrings, except for one.  He was about to bite into this last one when the wolf came up and said, 'What are you eating?'  The fox said, 'Fish. Do you want a taste?'  He gave the wolf half a herring, and it tasted very good to the wolf. He said, 'Where did you catch such a fish?'  The fox answered, 'Here in the pond.'  The wolf said, 'I would like to catch some.'  The fox said, 'Just hang your tail down into the water.'  However, it had turned cold, and the water stung the wolf's tail. After a while he wanted to pull his tail out, but the fox said, 'Test its weight!'  The wolf said, 'I don't notice anything.'  The fox said, 'Then it's too soon.'  Some time later he again wanted to pull his tail out, and the fox said, 'Test its weight!'  The wolf said, 'It seems that something is taking hold of it.'  The fox said, 'It's still too soon. Those are only little fish.'  By now the tail was nearly completely frozen into the ice.  Some time later the wolf once again wanted to pull his tail out, and the fox said, 'Test its weight!'  The wolf said, 'I seem to have caught a very large fish.' His tail was completely frozen into the ice.  The fox said, 'Pull!' But however hard he pulled, he couldn't pull it out.  The fox said, 'Push with your feet! Push with your feet!' And he went on his way.  The wolf pulled and pulled, and tugged and tugged, until finally he tore off his tail. This angered him greatly, and from that time onward he was always an enemy of the fox.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,How Mr. Rabbit Lost His Fine Bushy Tail,Joel Chandler Harris,NA,"Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings (New York and London: D. Appleton and Company, 1928), no. 25, pp. 120-24. © 1880, 1895, 1908, 1921.","'One time,' said Uncle Remus, sighing heavily and settling himself back in his seat with an air of melancholy resignation --' one time Brer Rabbit wuz gwine 'long down de road shakin' his big bushy tail, en feelin' des ez scrumpshus ez a bee-martin wid a fresh bug.'  Here the old man paused and glanced at the little boy, but it was evident that the youngster had become so accustomed to the marvelous developments of Uncle Remus's stories, that the extraordinary statement made no unusual impression upon him.  Therefore the old man began again, and this time in a louder arid more insinuating tone: 'One time ole man Rabbit, he wuz gwine 'long down de road shakin' his long, bushy tail, en feelin' mighty biggity.'  This was effective.  'Great goodness, Uncle Remus!' exclaimed the little boy in open-eyed wonder, 'everybody knows that rabbits haven't got long, bushy tails.'  The old man shifted his position in his chair and allowed his venerable head to drop forward until his whole appearance was suggestive of the deepest dejection; and this was intensified by a groan that seemed to be the result of great mental agony. Finally he spoke, but not as addressing himself to the little boy.  'I notices dat dem fokes w'at makes a great 'miration 'bout w'at dey knows is des de fokes w'ich you can't put no 'pennunce in w'en de 'cashun come up. Yer one un urn now, en he done come en excuse me er 'lowin' dat rabbits is got long, bushy tails, w'ich goodness knows ef I'd a dremp' it, I'd a whirl in en on dremp it'  'Well, but Uncle Remus, you said rabbits had long, bushy tails,' replied the little boy. 'Now you know you did.'  'Ef I ain't fergit it off'n my mine, I say dat ole Brer Rabbit wuz gwine down de big road shakin' his long, bushy tail. Dat w'at I say, en dat I stan's by.'  The little boy looked puzzled, but he didn't say anything. After a while the old man continued: 'Now, den, ef dat's 'greed ter, I'm gwine on, en ef tain't 'greed ter, den I'm gwineter pick up my cane an look atter my own intrust. I go wuk lyin' roun' yer dat's des natally gittin' moldy.'  The little boy still remained quiet, and Uncle mus proceeded: 'One day Brer Rabbit wuz gwine down de road shakin' his long, bushy tail, w'en who should he strike up wid but ole Brer Fox gwine amblin' long wid a big string er fish! W'en dey pass de time er day wid wunner nudder, Brer Rabbit, he open up de confab, he did, en he ax Brer Fox whar he git dat nice string er fish, en Brer Fox, he up'n 'spon' dat he kotch um, en Brer Rabbit, he saw whar'bouts, en Brer Fox, he say down at de babtizin' creek, en Brer Rabbit he ax how, kaze in dem days dey wuz monstus fon' er minners, en Brer Fox, he sot down on a log, he did, en he up'n tell Brer Rabbit dat all he gotter do fer ter git er big mess er minners is ter go ter de creek atter sun down, en drap his tail in de water en set dar twel daylight, en den draw up a whole armful er fishes, en dem w'at he don't want, he kin fling back. Right dar's whar Brer Rabbit drap his watermillion, kaze he tuck'n sot out dat night en went a fishin'. De wedder wuz sorter cole, en Brer Rabbit, he got 'im a bottle er dram en put out fer de creek, en w'en he git dar he pick out a good place, en he sorter squot down, he did, en let his tail hang in de water. He sot dar, en he sot dar, en he drunk his dram, en he think he gwineter freeze, but bimeby day come, en dar he wuz. He make a pull, en he feel like he comin' in two, en he fetch nudder jerk, en lo en beholes, whar wuz his tail?'  There was a long pause.  'Did it come off, Uncle Remus?' asked the little boy, presently.  'She did dat!' replied the old man with unction. 'She did dat, and dat w'at make all deze yer bob-tail rabbits w'at you see hoppin' en skaddlin' thoo de woods.'  'Are they all that way just becaue the old Rabbit lost his tail in the creek?' asked the little boy.  'Dat's it, honey,' replied the old man. 'Dat's w'at dey tells me. Look like dey er bleedzd ter take atter der pa.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,The Frozen Tail,USA,"Parsons' source: Mary Smith of Lincoln, Pennsylvania.","Elsie Clews Parsons, 'Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 30, no. 116, (April - June, 1917), pp. 214-215.","Once there was a fox an' a rabbit. They was in partnership. The rabbit used to go fishing a lot. The rabbit told the fox he could show him where there was a nice lot of fish.  The rabbit said, 'Don't pull up until you feel your tail getting stiff an' heavy.'  After a while the fox said, 'My tail getting heavy, can I pull up?'  Rabbit said, 'No, don't pull up yet. Wait till you get a few more on. Pull up now! You got a nice bunch on.'  His tail stuck, was froze.  'That's just what I wanted, Mr. Fox, you treated me so dirty.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,Fox and Wolf,American Indian,This story combines the following tale types: 'The Theft of Food by Playing Godfather' (type 15).  'The Tail-Fisher' (type 2).,"Alanson Skinner, 'European Folk-Tales Collected among the Menominee IndiansThe Journal of American Folklore, vol. 26, no. 99 (January - March, 1913), pp. 72-75.","Very long ago there were two men living together, and making maple sugar. They made one mokok ('bark box') of sugar, and then they cached it away, burying it, and said to each other, 'We will let it remain here until we are very hungry.'  The younger man was a Fox, and he was a good hunter. Every time he went out, he brought home chickens or small wild game. The other man was a greedy Wolf, and he never killed anything, or brought anything home: so Fox thought he would play a trick on his chum for being lazy.  'You ought to go over to that house,' said Fox to Wolf. 'Maybe they will give you something to eat. When I went over there, they gave me a chicken.'  So Wolf went over as he was told. When he got to the house, he did not hide himself, but went in open sight. The owner of the house saw the Wolf coming up, so he set his dogs on him to drive him away; and Wolf escaped only by running into the river.  'So it is this one that takes off our chickens!' said the man.  When Wolf arrived at his home, he told his younger brother, Fox, 'Why, I hardly escaped from that man!'  'Why!' said Fox to him. 'They did not recognize you; that's why.' But Wolf made no answer.  While they were in the house together, Fox went outside, and cried, 'He!' to deceive Wolf.  'What's the matter with you?' asked Wolf.  'Oh! they have come after me to give a name to a child.'  'Then you'd better go over. Maybe they will give you something to eat.'  Instead of going, however, Fox went to their cache of maple sugar, and ate some of it. When he returned, Wolf asked him, 'What did you name the baby?'  'Mokimon,' replied Fox; and this word means to 'reveal' or 'dig out' something you have hidden.  At another time, while they were sitting together, Fox said, 'He!' and 'Oh, yes!'  'What's that?' inquired Wolf.  'Oh! I am called to give a name to a newborn baby.'  'Well, then, go. Maybe they will give you something to eat.'  So Fox went and returned. 'What's the name of the child?' asked Wolf.  This time, Fox answered, 'Wapiton'; and this word means 'to commence to eat.'  At another time, Fox cried out, 'He!' and 'All right!' as though some one had called to him, 'I'll come.'  'What's that?' asked Wolf.  'They want me to go over and name their child.'  'Well, then, go,' says Wolf. 'You always get something to eat every time they want you.'  So Fox went, and soon returned. Wolf asked him again, 'What name did you give it?'  'Hapata kiton,' answered Fox; that is to say, 'half eaten.'  Then another time Fox cried 'He!' as if in answer to some one speaking to him, and then, as though some one called from the distance, 'Hau!'  Wolf, as he did not quite hear, asked Fox what the matter was. 'Oh, nothing!' replied Fox, 'only they want me to come over and name their child.'  'Well, then, you'd better go. Maybe you'll get a chance to eat; maybe you'll fetch me something too.'  So Fox started out, and soon returned home.  'Well, what name did you give this time?' asked Wolf.  'Noskwaton,' said Fox; and this means 'all licked up.'  Then Wolf caught on. 'Maybe you are eating our stored maple sugar!' he cried. But Fox sat still and laughed at him.  Then Wolf went over and looked at their cache. Sure enough, he found the empty box with its contents all gone, and pretty well licked up.  Meantime Fox skipped out, and soon found a large tree by the river, leaning out over the water. He climbed into its branches and hid there. Presently the angry Wolf returned home, and, not finding Fox, tracked him to the tree. Wolf climbed part way to Fox without seeing him, as he was on the branches. Then Wolf was afraid, and while he was hesitating, he happened to look at the water, and there he saw the reflection of Fox laughing at him on the surface. The Wolf, in a fury, plunged into the bottom of the stream, but of course failed to catch Fox. He tried four times, and after the fourth attempt he was tired, and quit jumping in for a while. While he was resting, he looked up and saw Fox laughing at him.  Then Wolf said to Fox, 'Let's go home and make up'; for he thought in his heart that anyway Fox was feeding him all the time.  By and by it became winter. Fox frequently went out, and returned with abundance of fish. 'How do you manage to get so many?' asked Wolf.  'You'd better go out and try for yourself,' said Fox. 'The way I do, when I am fishing, is to cut a hole in the ice. I put my tail in, instead of a line, and I remain there until I feel bites. I move ahead a little to let the fish string on my tail; but I stay a long time, until I get a great many fish on my tail. When it feels pretty heavy, I jerk it out, and catch all I want.'  Fox was in hopes that he could get Wolf frozen to death in the ice, and so avoid the necessity of feeding him any longer. So he took Wolf out, and cut five holes in the ice, -- one for his tail, and one for each paw, -- telling him he could catch more fish that way. Wolf staid there to fish all night. Every once in a while he would move his feet or tail a little, and they felt so heavy, he was sure he was getting a tremendous load; and he staid a little longer. In the mean time he was freezing fast in the ice. When he found out the predicament he was in, he jerked backwards and forwards again and again, until all the hair wore off his tail, and there he was. He thought he had let too many fish on his tail and feet to haul them out, and he worked hard to free himself. At last he wore his tail out at the surface of the ice, and pulled off his claws and the bottoms of his feet. Fox told him he had caught too many fish, and that they had bitten his tail and feet; and Wolf believed it.  Another time, Fox found a wasp's nest in a tree: so he went home and told Wolf that there was honey in it, and persuaded him to try and jump up and get it, on the plea that Wolf could jump higher than he could. As soon as Wolf set out to try, Fox ran away, and Wolf was nearly stung to death. Fox fled over a wagon-road to conceal his tracks, and as he travelled, he met a negro with a team, hauling a load of bread. Fox, cunning as he was, lay down on the side of the road and pretended that he was dead. The negro saw him lying there, and picked him up and put him in his wagon behind his load. Fox very presently came to, and, waiting for his chance, he would throw off a loaf of bread every now and then, till he had gotten rid of a good many. Then he jumped off, and carried the loaves to a secret place, where he built him a shelter, and prepared to live for a time.  In the meantime, Wolf came along, half starved, and crippled from his meddling with a live wasp's nest and from his fishing experience. Fox fed him on his arrival, and said, 'You ought to do the way I did. It's easy to get bread. I got mine by playing dead on the road. Tomorrow the negro will pass by with another load; and you can watch for him and do as I did, and steal his bread.'  Next morning, Wolf started out to watch the road, and pretty soon he saw the negro coming with a big load of bread: so he lay down beside the road, where the darky could see him, and played dead. The darky did see him, sure enough; and he stopped his team, and got off and got a big stick, and knocked Wolf over the head, and killed him dead for sure.  'I will not get fooled this time!' he said, 'for yesterday I lost too many loaves of bread for putting a dead Fox in my wagon without examining him.'  So he did take the Wolf home dead. That ended him, and since then Fox has eaten alone.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
2,Why Rabbit Has a Short Tail,Antigua,NA,"John H. Johnson, 'Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies,' The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 34, no. 131 (January - March, 1921), p. 22.","Dis was how dis come, Rabbit once have a tail long like dem oder an'mals. Not short all de time. On dis occasion Rabbit was goin' about, an' he was hot. Dis was summer, an' everyt'ing was hot. Rabbit he had run all over, was feelin' warm. By an by he come to where Bro' Barricuter (fish) was. When Bro' Rabbit come near to de water, Bro' Barricuter speak to him. Say, 'Why is it dat you so warm, Bro' Rabbit?'  Rabbit tell him dat is so warm 'round here, an' dat he been runnin' all 'bout. He not able to stay cool.  Den Bro' Barricuter fool Rabbit. An' Rabbit is a smart one. Bro' Barricuter say, 'Bro' Rabbit, Ah will tell you which way you can get cool.' Rabbit he glad for dat, an' ask de Barricuter to please do dis. Bro' Barricuter say dat Rabbit must come up to dis piece of wood what is over de water, an' let he tail hang down into de water. 'In dis way, Bro' Rabbit, de cool from de water will go up from you' tail, an' you will not be warm.'  Rabbit not against dis, an' he come. Now, when Rabbit come up to dis piece a wood, he drop his tail to de water. Den Bro' Barricuter drap up to Rabbit tail, an' he bit it off. Dat how Barricuter fool Rabbit, an' is why Rabbit has dat short tail.  Finish.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
545B,Costantino and His Cat,Fiovanni Francesco Straparola,NA,"Giovanni Francesco StraparolaThe Facetious Nights of Straparola, vol. 4 (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), night 11, tale 1, pp. 6-18.","Fioriana dies and leaves three sons, Dusolino, Tesifone, and Costantino. The last-named, by the aid of his cat, gains the lordship of a powerful kingdom.   It is no rare event, beloved ladies, to see a rich man brought to extreme poverty, or to find one who from absolute penury has mounted to high estate. And this last-named fortune befell a poor wight of whom I have heard tell, who from being little better than a beggar attained the full dignity of a king.  There was once upon a time in Bohemia a woman, Soriana by name, who lived in great poverty with her three sons, of whom one was called Dusolino, and another Tesifone, and the third Costantino Fortunato. Soriana had naught of any value in the way of household goods save three things, and these were a kneading trough of the kind women use in the making of bread, a board such as is used in the preparation of pastry, and a cat. Soriana, being now borne down with a very heavy burden of years, saw that death was approaching her, and on this account made her last testament, leaving to Dusolino, her eldest son, the kneading trough, to Tesifone the paste board, and to Costantino the cat.  When the mother was dead and duly buried, the neighbors round about would borrow now the kneading trough and now the paste board, as they might happen to want them, and as they knew that the young men were very poor, they gave them by way of repayment a cake, which Dusolino and Tesifone ate by themselves, giving nothing of it to Costantino, the youngest brother. And if Costantino chanced to ask them to give him aught they would make answer by bidding him to go to his cat, who would without fail let him have what he wanted, and on this account poor Costantino and his cat underwent much suffering.  Now it chanced that this cat of Costantino's was a fairy in disguise, and the cat, feeling much compassion for him and anger at his two brothers on account of their cruel treatment of him, one day said to him, 'Costantino, do not be cast down, for I will provide for your well-being and sustenance, and for my own as well.'  Whereupon the cat sallied forth from the house and went into the fields, where it lay down and feigned to be asleep so cleverly that an unsuspecting leveret came close up to where it was lying, and was forthwith seized and killed. Then, carrying the leveret, the cat went to the king's palace, and having met some of the courtiers who were standing about it, said that it wanted to speak to the king.  When the king heard that a cat had begged an audience with him, he bade them bring it into his presence, and, having asked it what its business was, the cat replied that Costantino, its master, had sent a leveret as a present to the king, and begged his gracious acceptance of the same. And with these words it presented the leveret to the king, who was pleased to accept it, asking at the same time who this Costantino might be. The cat replied that he was a young man who for virtue and good looks had no superior, and the king, on hearing this report, gave the cat a kindly welcome, and ordered them to set before it meat and drink of the best. The cat, when it had eaten and drunk enough, dexterously filled the bag in which it had brought the leveret with all sorts of good provender, when no one was looking that way, and having taken leave of the king, carried the spoil back to Costantino.  The two brothers, when they saw Costantino making good cheer over the victuals, asked him to let them have a share, but he paid them back in their own coin, and refused to give them a morsel, wherefore on this account the brothers hereafter were tormented with gnawing envy of Costantino's good fortune.  Now Costantino, though he was a good-looking youth, had suffered so much privation and distress that his face was rough and covered with blotches, which caused him much discomfort; so the cat, having taken him one day down to the river, washed him and licked him carefully with its tongue from head to foot, and tended him so well that in a few days he was quite freed from his ailment.  The cat still went on carrying presents to the royal palace in the fashion already described, and by these means got a living for Costantino. But after a time the cat began to find these journeyings to and from the palace somewhat irksome, and it feared more over that the king's courtiers might be come impatient thereanent; so it said to Costantino, 'My master, if you will only do what I shall tell you, in a short time you will find yourself a rich man.'  'And how will you manage this?' said Costantino.  Then the cat answered, 'Come with me, and do not trouble yourself about anything, for I have a plan for making a rich man of you which cannot fail.'  Whereupon the cat and Costantino betook themselves to a spot on the bank of the river which was hard by the king's palace, and forthwith the cat bade its master to strip off all his clothes and to throw himself into the river.  Then it began to cry and shout in a loud voice, 'Help, help, run, run, for Messer Costantino is drowning!'  It happened that the king heard what the cat was crying out, and bearing in mind what great benefits he had received from Costantino, he immediately sent some of his household to the rescue.  When Costantino had been dragged out of the water and dressed by the attendants in seemly garments, he was led into the presence of the king, who gave him a hearty welcome, and inquired of him how it was that he found himself in the water; but Costantino, on account of his agitation, knew not what reply to make; so the cat, who always kept at his elbow, answered in his stead, 'You must know, O king! that some robbers, who had learned by the agency of a spy that my master was taking a great store of jewels to offer them to you as a present, laid wait for him and robbed him of his treasure, and then, wishing to murder him, they threw him into the river, but by the aid of these gentlemen he has escaped death.'  The king, when he heard this, gave orders that Costantino should enjoy the best of treatment, and seeing that he was well made and handsome, and believing him to be very rich, he made up his mind to give him his daughter Elisetta to wife, and to endow her with a rich dowry of gold and jewels and sumptuous raiment. When the nuptial ceremonies were completed and the festivities at an end, the king bade them load ten mules with gold and five with the richest garments, and sent the bride, accompanied by a great concourse of people, to her husband's house.  Costantino, when he saw himself so highly honored and loaded with riches, was in sore perplexity as to where he should carry his bride, and took counsel with the cat thereanent.  Said the cat: 'Be not troubled over this business, my master; we will provide for everything.'  So as they were all riding on merrily together the cat left the others and rode on rapidly in advance, and after it had left the company a long way behind, it came upon certain cavaliers whom it thus addressed: 'Alas! you poor fellows, what are you doing here? Get hence as quickly as you can, for a great body of armed men is coming along this road and will surely attack and despoil you. See, they are now quite near; listen to the noise of the neighing horses.'  Whereupon the horsemen, overcome with fear, said to the cat: 'What then shall we do?'  And the cat made answer: 'It will be best for you to act in this wise. If they should question you as to whose men you are, you must answer boldly that you serve Messer Costantino, and then no one will molest you.'  Then the cat left them, and, having ridden on still farther, came upon great flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, and it told the same story and gave the same counsel to the shepherds and drovers who had charge of these. Then going on still farther it spake in the same terms to whomsoever it chanced to meet. As the cavalcade of the princess passed on, the gentlemen who were accompanying her asked of the horsemen whom they met the name of their lord, and of the herdsmen who might be the owner of all these sheep and oxen, and the answer given by all was that they served Messer Costantino.  Then the gentlemen of the escort said to the bridegroom: 'So, Messer Costantino, it appears we are now entering your dominions?' and Costantino nodded his head in token of assent, and in like manner he made answer to all their interrogations, so that all the company on this account judged him to be enormously rich.  In the meantime the cat had ridden on and had come to a fair and stately castle, which was guarded by a very weak garrison, and these defenders the cat addressed in the following words: 'My good men, what is it you do? Surely you must be aware of the ruin which is about to overwhelm you.'  'What is the ruin you speak of?' demanded the guards.  'Why, before another hour shall have gone by,' replied the cat, 'your place will be beleaguered by a great company of soldiers, who will cut you in pieces. Do you not already hear the neighing of the horses and see the dust in the air? Wherefore, unless you are minded to perish, take heed to my advice, which will bring you safely out of all danger. For if anyone shall demand of you whose this castle is, say that it belongs to Messer Costantino Fortunato.'  And when the time came the guards gave answer as the cat had directed; for when the noble escort of the bride had arrived at the stately castle, and certain gentlemen had inquired of the guards the name of the lord of the castle, they were answered that it was Messer Costantino Fortunato; and when the whole company had entered the castle they were honorably lodged therein.  Now the lord of this castle was a certain Signor Valentino, a very brave soldier, who only a few days ago had left his castle to bring back thereto the wife he had recently espoused, but as ill fortune would have it, there happened to him on the road, somewhile before he came to the place where his beloved wife was abiding, an unhappy and unforeseen accident by which he straightway met his death. So Costantino Fortunato retained the lordship of Valentino's castle.  Not long after this Morando, King of Bohemia, died, and the people by acclamation chose Costantino Fortunato for their king, seeing that he had espoused Elisetta, the late king's daughter, to whom by right the succession to the kingdom belonged. And by these means Costantino rose from an estate of poverty or even beggary to be a powerful king, and lived long with Elisetta his wife, leaving children by her to be the heirs of his kingdom.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
545B,Gagliuso,Giambattista Basile,"Basile's Lo cunto de li cunti overo lo trattenemiento de peccerille (The Tale of Tales; or, Entertainment for Little Ones, also known as Il Pentamerone) was first published in two volumes in Naples between 1634 and 1636.","Giambattista Basile, The Pentamerone; or, The Story of Stories, translated from the Neapolitan by John Edward Taylor; new edition revised and edited by Helen Zimmern (New York: Macmilland and Company; London: T. Fisher Unwin, 1894), pp. 80-87.","There was one time in my dear city of Naples an old man who was as poor as poor could be. He was so wretched, so bare, so light, and with not a farthing in his pocket, that he went naked as a flea.  And being about to shake out the bags of life, he called to him his sons, Oratiello and Pippo, and said to them, 'I am now called upon by the tenor of my bill to pay the debt I owe to nature; and believe me I should feel great pleasure in leaving this abode of misery, but that I leave you here behind me, a pair of miserable fellows, without a stitch upon your backs, without so much as a fly can carry upon its foot; so that were you to run a hundred miles, not a farthing would drop from you. My ill fortune has indeed brought me to such beggary that I lead the life of a dog; for I have all along, as you well know, gaped with hunger and gone to bed without a candle. Nevertheless, now that I am dying, I wish to leave you some token of my love. So do you, Oratiello, who are my first-born, take the sieve that hangs yonder against the wall, with which you can earn your bread; and do you, little fellow, take the cat, and remember your daddy.'  So saying he began to whimper, and presently after said, 'God be with you, for it is night!'  Oratiello had his father buried by charity, and then took the sieve, and went riddling [sifting] here and there and everywhere to gain a livelihood; and the more he riddled the more he earned.  And Pippo, taking the cat, said, 'Only see now what a pretty legacy my father has left me! I, who am not able to support myself, must now provide for two. Whoever beheld such a miserable inheritance?'  But the cat, who overheard this lamentation, said to him, 'You are grieving without need, and have more luck than sense; but you little know the good fortune in store for you, and that I am able to make you rich if I set about it.'  When Pippo heard this, he thanked her pussyship, stroked her three or four times on the back, and commended himself warmly to her.  So the cat took compassion upon poor Gagliuso, and every morning she betook herself either to the shore of the Chiaja or to the Fishrock, and catching a goodly gray mullet, or a fine dory, she bagged it, and carried it to the king, and said, 'My lord Gagliuso, your majesty's most humble slave, sends you this fish with all reverence, and says, 'A small present to a great lord.''  Then the king with a joyful face, as one usually shows to those who bring a gift, answered the cat, 'Tell this lord, whom I do not know, that I thank him heartily.'  At another time the cat would run to the marshes or fields, and when the fowlers had brought down a blackbird, a snipe, or a lark, she caught it up, and presented it to the king with the same message.  She repeated this trick again and again, until one morning the king said to her, 'I feel infinitely obliged to this lord Gagliuso, and am desirous of knowing him, that I may make a return for the kindness he has shown me.'  And the cat replied, The desire of my lord Gagliuso is to give his life and blood for your majesty's crown, and tomorrow morning without fail, as soon as the sun has set fire to the stubble of the fields of air, he will come and pay his respects to you.'  So when the morning came the cat went to the king, and said to him, 'Sire, my lord Gagliuso sends to excuse himself for not coming; as last night some of his servants robbed him and ran off, and have not left him a single shirt to his back.'  When the king heard this, he instantly commanded his servants to take out of his wardrobe a quantity of clothes and linen, and sent them to Gagliuso; and before two hours had passed Gagliuso went to the palace, conducted by the cat, where he received a thousand compliments from the king, who made him sit beside him, and gave him a banquet that would amaze you.  While they were eating Gagliuso from time to time turned to the cat, and said to her, 'My pretty puss, prithee take care that those rags don't slip through our fingers.'  Then the cat answered, 'Be quiet, be quiet; don't be talking of these beggarly things.'  The king wishing to know what it was, the cat made answer that he had taken a fancy for a small lemon, whereupon the king instantly set out to the garden for a basketful. But Gagliuso returned to the same tune about the old clothes and shirts, and the cat again told him to hold his tongue. Then the king once more asked what was the matter, and the cat had another excuse ready to make amends for Gagliuso's rudeness.  At last when they had eaten and had chatted for some time of one thing and another, Gagliuso took his leave; and the cat stayed with the king, describing the worth, and the genius, and the judgment of Gagliuso, and, above all, the great wealth he had in the plains of Rome and Lombardy, which well entitled him to marry into the family of a crowned king.  Then the king asked what might be his fortune; and the cat replied that no one could ever count the movables, the immovables, and the household furniture of this immensely rich man, who did not even know what he possessed; and if the king wished to be informed of it, he had only to send people with her out of the kingdom, and she would prove to him that there was no wealth in the world equal to his.  Then the king called some trusty persons, and commanded them to inform themselves minutely of the truth; so they followed in the footsteps of the cat, who, as soon as they had passed the frontier of the kingdom, from time to time ran on before, under the pretext of providing refreshments for them on the road; and whenever she met a flock of sheep, a herd of cows, a troop of horses, or a drove of pigs, she would say to the herdsmen and keepers, 'Ho! Have a care! There's a troop of robbers coming to carry off everything in the country. So if you wish to escape their fury, and to have your things respected, say that they all belong to the lord Gagliuso, and not a hair will be touched.'  She said the same at all the farmhouses that she passed on the road; so that wherever the king's people came, they found the pipe tuned; for everything they met with, they were told, belonged to the lord Gagliuso. So at last they were tired of asking, and went back to the king, telling seas and mountains of the riches of lord Gagliuso. The king, hearing this report, promised the cat a good drink if she should manage to bring about the match; and the cat concluded the marriage. So Gagliuso came, and the king gave him his daughter and a large portion.  At the end of a month of festivities Gagliuso said he wished to take his bride to his estates; so the king accompanied them as far as the frontiers, and he went to Lombardy, where, by the cat's advice, he purchased a quantity of lands and territories, and became a baron.  Gagliuso, now seeing himself so extremely rich, thanked the cat more than words can express, saying that he owed his life and his greatness to her good offices, and that the ingenuity of a cat had done more for him than the wit of his father; therefore she might dispose of his life and property as she pleased; and he gave her his word that when she died, which he prayed might not be for a hundred years, he would have her embalmed and put into a golden coffin, and set in his own chamber, that he might keep her memory always before his eyes.  The cat listened to these lavish professions, and before three days were over she pretended to be dead, and stretched herself at her full length in the garden; and when Gagliuso's wife saw her, she cried out, 'O husband, what a sad misfortune! The cat is dead!'  'Devil die with her!' said Gagliuso. 'Better she than we!'  'What shall we do with her?' asked the wife.  'Take her by the leg,' said he, 'and fling her out of the window.'  Then the cat, who heard this fine reward when she least expected it, began to say, 'Is this the return you make for my taking you from beggary? Is this the thanks I get for freeing you from rags that you might have hung distaffs with? Is this my reward for having put good clothes on your back, and fed you well when you were a poor, starved, miserable, tatter-brogued ragamuffin? But such is the fate of him who washes an ass's head. Go, a curse upon all I have done for you! You are not worth spitting upon in the face. A fine gold coffin you had prepared for me! A fine funeral you were going to give me! Go now, serve, labor, toil, sweat, to get this fine reward! Unhappy is he who does a good deed in hopes of a return! Well was it said by the philosopher, 'He who lies down an ass, an ass he finds himself.' But let him who does most expect least. Smooth words and ill deeds deceive alike both wise and fools.'  So saying she threw her cloak about her, and went her way; and all that Gagliuso with the utmost humility could do to soothe her was of no avail. She would not return, but kept running on without ever turning her head about, and saying,  Heaven protect us from a rich man grown poor, And from a beggar who of wealth has got store.  The poor cat was compassionated beyond measure for seeing herself so ill rewarded; but one of those present observed, that she might have found some consolation in not being alone; for at the present day ingratitude has become a domestic evil; and there are many others also who, after they have worked and toiled, and spent their money, and ruined their health, to serve this race of ungrateful people, and have fancied them selves sure of another and a better reward than a golden coffin, find themselves destined to be buried in the hospital.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
545B,"The Master Cat; or, Puss in Boots",Charles Perrault,Charles Perrault's Histoires ou contes du temps passé (Stories or Tales from Past Times) -- also titled Les conte de ma Mère l'Oye (Tales of My Mother Goose) -- was first published in Paris in 1697.,"Charles Perrault Tales of Passed Times (London: J. M. Dent and Company, 1900), pp. 43-51.","A miller bequeathed to his three sons all he possessed of worldly goods, which consisted only of his mill, his ass, and his cat. It did not take long to divide the property, and neither notary nor attorney was called in; they would soon have eaten up the poor little patrimony. The eldest son had the mill; the second son, the ass; and the youngest had nothing but the cat.  The latter was very disconsolate at having such a poor share of the inheritance. 'My brothers,' said he, 'may be able to earn an honest livelihood by entering into partnership; but, as for me, when I have eaten my cat and made a muff of his skin, I must die of hunger.'  The cat, who had heard this speech, although he had not appeared to do so, said to him with a sedate and serious air, 'Do not be troubled, master; you have only to give me a bag, and get a pair of boots made for me in which I can go among the bushes, and you will see that you are not left so badly off as you believe.'  Though his master did not place much reliance on the cat's words, he had seen him play such cunning tricks in catching rats and mice, when he would hang himself up by the heels, or hide in the ?our pretending to be dead, that he was not altogether without hope of being helped by him out of his distress.  As soon as the cat had what he asked for, he boldly pulled on his boots, and, hanging his bag round his neck, he took the strings of it in his forepaws, and started off for a warren where there were a great number of rabbits. He put some bran and sow-thistles in his bag, and then, stretching himself out as if he were dead, he waited till some young rabbit, little versed in the wiles of the world, should come and poke his way into the bag, in order to eat what was inside it.  He had hardly laid himself down before he had the pleasure of seeing a young scatterbrain of a rabbit get into the bag, whereupon Master Cat pulled the strings, caught it, and killed it without mercy. Proud of his prey, he went to the palace, and asked to speak to the king.  He was ushered upstairs and into the state apartment, and, after making a low bow to the king, he said, 'Sire, here is a wild rabbit, which my Lord the Marquis of Carabas -- for such was the title he had taken a fancy to give to his master -- has ordered me to present, with his duty, to your majesty.'  'Tell your master,' replied the king, 'that I thank him and am pleased with his gift.'  Another day he went and hid himself in the wheat, keeping the mouth of his bag open as before, and as soon as he saw that a brace of partridges had run inside, he pulled the strings, and so took them both. He went immediately and presented them to the king, as he had the rabbits. The king was equally grateful at receiving the brace of partridges, and ordered drink to be given him.  For the next two or three months, the cat continued in this manner, taking presents of game at intervals to the king, as if from his master.  One day, when he knew the king was going to drive on the banks of the river, with his daughter, the most beautiful princess in the world, he said to his master, 'If you will follow my advice, your fortune is made; you have only to go and bathe in a part of the river I will point out to you, and then leave the rest to me.'  The Marquis of Carabas did as his cat advised him, without knowing what good would come of it.  While he was bathing, the king passed by, and the cat began to call out with all his might, 'Help! Help! My lord the Marquis of Carabas is drowning!'  Hearing the cry, the king looked out of the coach window, and recognizing the cat who had so often brought him game, he ordered his guards to ?y to the help of my lord the Marquis of Carabas. Whilst they were getting the poor marquis out of the river, the cat went up to the royal coach, and told the king that, while his master had been bathing, some robbers had come and carried off his clothes, although he had shouted, 'Stop thief,' as loud as he could. The rogue had hidden them himself under a large stone. The king immediately ordered the officers of his wardrobe to go and fetch one of his handsomest suits for my lord the Marquis of Carabas. The king embraced him a thousand times, and as the ?ne clothes they dressed him in set off his good looks -- for he was handsome and well made -- the Marquis of Carabas quite took the fancy of the king's daughter, and after he had cast two or three respectful and rather tender glances towards her, she fell very much in love with him. The king insisted upon his getting into the coach, and accompanying them in their drive.  The cat, delighted to see that his plans were beginning to succeed, ran on before, and coming across some peasants who were mowing a meadow, he said to them, 'You, good people, who are mowing here, if you do not tell the king that this meadow you are mowing belongs to my lord the Marquis of Carabas, you shall all be cut in pieces as small as minced meat.'  The king did not fail to ask the peasants whose meadow it was they were mowing.  'It belongs to my Lord the Marquis of Carabas,' said they all together, for the cat's threat had frightened them.  'You have a ?ne property there,' said the king to the Marquis of Carabas.  'As you say, sire,' responded the Marquis of Carabas, 'for it is a meadow which yields an abundant crop every year.'  Master Cat, who still kept in advance of the party, came up to some reapers, and said to them, 'You, good people, who are reaping, if you do not say that all this corn belongs to my lord the Marquis of Carabas, you shall all be cut into pieces as small as minced meat.'  The king, who passed by a minute afterwards, wished to know to whom belonged all the corn ?elds he saw.  'To my lord the Marquis of Carabas,' repeated the reapers, and the king again congratulated the Marquis on his property.  The cat, still continuing to run before the coach, uttered the same threat to everyone he met, and the king was astonished at the great wealth of my lord the Marquis of Carabas. Master Cat at length arrived at a ?ne castle, the owner of which was an ogre, the richest ogre ever known, for all the lands through which the king had driven belonged to the lord of this castle. The cat took care to ?nd out who the ogre was, and what he was able to do; then he asked to speak with him, saying that he did not like to pass so near his castle without doing himself the honor of paying his respects to him. The ogre received him as civilly as an ogre can, and made him sit down.  'I have been told,' said the cat, 'that you have the power of changing yourself into all kinds of animals; that you could, for instance, transform yourself into a lion or an elephant.'  ''Tis true,' said the ogre, abruptly, 'and to prove it to you, you shall see me become a lion.'  The cat was so frightened when he saw a lion in front of him, that he quickly scrambled up into the gutter, not without difficulty and danger, on account of his boots, which were worse than useless for walking on the tiles. Shortly afterwards, seeing that the ogre had resumed his natural form, the cat climbed down again, and admitted that he had been terribly frightened.  'I have also been assured,' said the cat, ' but I cannot believe it, that you have the power besides of taking the form of the smallest animal; for instance, that of a rat, or a mouse; I confess to you I hold this to be utterly impossible.'  'Impossible!' exclaimed the ogre, 'You shall see!' and he immediately changed himself into a mouse, and began running about the ?oor.  The cat no sooner caught sight of it, than he pounced upon it and ate it.  In the meanwhile, the king, seeing the ?ne castle of the ogre as he was driving past, thought he should like to go inside.  The cat, who heard the noise of the coach rolling over the draw-bridge, ran to meet it, and said to the king, 'Your majesty is welcome to the Castle of my Lord the Marquis of Carabas!'  'How, my Lord Marquis,' exclaimed the king, 'this castle belongs to you? Nothing could be ?ner than this courtyard, and all these buildings which surround it. Let us see the inside of it, if you please.'  The marquis handed out the young princess, and following the king, who led the way upstairs, they entered a grand hall, where they found prepared a magni?cent repast, which the ogre had ordered in expectation of some friends, who were to have visited him that very day, but who did not venture to enter when they heard the king was there.  The king, as greatly delighted with the excellent qualities of my Lord the Marquis of Carabas as his daughter, who was more than ever in love with him, seeing what great wealth he possessed, said to him, after having drunk ?ve or six bumpers, 'It depends entirely on yourself, my Lord Marquis, whether or not you become my son-in-law.'  The marquis, making several profound bows, accepted the honor the king offered him, and that same day was married to the princess. The cat became a great lord, and never again ran after mice, except for his amusement.          Be the advantage never so great         Of owning a superb estate,         From sire to son descended,         Young men oft find, on industry,         Combined with ingenuity,         They'd better have depended.         If the son of a miller so quickly could gain         The heart of a princess, it seems pretty plain,         With good looks and good manners, and some aid from dress,         The humblest need not quite despair of success.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
57,The Fox and the Crow,Aesop,NA,"Æsop's Fables, translated by V. S. Vernon Jones (London: W. Heinemann, 1912), p. 6.","A crow was sitting on a branch of a tree with a piece of cheese in her beak when a fox observed her and set his wits to work to discover some way of getting the cheese. Coming and standing under the tree he looked up and said, 'What a noble bird I see above me! Her beauty is without equal, the hue of her plumage exquisite. If only her voice is as sweet as her looks are fair, she ought without doubt to be queen of the birds.' The crow was hugely flattered by this, and just to show the fox that she could sing she gave a loud caw. Down came the cheese, of course, and the fox, snatching it up, said, 'You have a voice, madam, I see. What you want is wits.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
675,Hans Dumb,Germany,"This story was not included in later editions of the Grimms' famous collection. Translated by D. L. Ashliman. © 2011. The episode of the golden goblet planted in the father's pocket is reminiscent of the Bible story of Joseph, who had a silver goblet planted in his brother Benjamin's pack. (Genesis, chapters 44-45)","Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, 'Hans Dumm,' Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 1st ed., vol. 1 (Berlin: Realschulbuchhandlung, 1812), no. 54, pp. 250-52.","There was a king who lived happily with his daughter, his only child. Quite suddenly the princess had a baby, but no one knew who the father was. For some time the king was beside himself. Finally he ordered the princess to take the child to the church. A lemon would be placed in his hand, and whoever he should give it to would be the child's father and the princess's husband. This happened, but only fine people were admitted into the church. However, in the town there was a small, crooked, hunchbacked lad who was not very smart and who was therefore known as Hans Dumb. He mingled with the others and slipped into the church without being seen. When the child reached out with the lemon, it was to Hans Dumb!  The princess was horrified, and the king was so taken aback that he had her, the child, and Hans Dumb placed into a cask and set adrift at sea. The cask soon drifted away, and when they were alone at sea the princess cried out bitterly, 'You horrid, hunchbacked, impudent rogue, you are the cause of my suffering. Why did you force your way into the church? You have nothing to do with the child.'  'Oh yes,' said Hans Dumb. 'I have a lot to do with it, because one day I wished that you would have a child, and my wishes come true.'  'If that is so, then wish us something to eat.'  'I can do that too,' said Hans Dumb, and he wished for a plate filled with potatoes. The princess would have liked something better, but because she was so hungry she helped him eat the potatoes.  After they had eaten their fill, Hans Dumb said, 'Now I shall wish us a fine ship!' He had scarcely said this and they were sitting in a splendid ship, with an excess of everything that they might want.  The helmsman steered straight for land, and as they were going ashore Hans Dumb said, 'Here there shall be a castle!' And there was a splendid castle there, and servants dressed in gold came and led the princess and the child inside, and when they were in the middle of the great hall, Hans Dumb said, 'Now I wish to become a young and intelligent prince!' Then his hump disappeared, and he was handsome and straight and friendly. He found favor with the princess, and he became her husband, and they lived happily for a long time.  One day the old king got lost while out riding and came to their castle. He was amazed, because he had never seen it before, and he went inside. The princess recognized her father at once, but he did not know who she was, for he thought that she had long since drowned in the ocean. She received him with splendor, but when he wanted to go back home, she secretly placed a golden goblet into his pocket.  After he had ridden away she sent some knights after him to stop him and see if he hadn't stolen the golden goblet. They found it in his pocket and brought him back. He swore to the princess that he had not stolen it and did not know how it came to be in his pocket.  She said, 'You see, one should always be cautious about accusing another person.' With this she revealed herself as his daughter. The king was overjoyed, and they lived happily together, and after his death Hans Dumb became king.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
675,Stupid Michel,Germany,"Kuhn's source: 'Oral, from Brodewin [now spelled Brodowin].'","Adalbert Kuhn, 'Der dumme Michel,' M�rkische Sagen und M�rchen (Berlin: G. Reimer, 1843), pp. 270-73.","Once upon a time there was a peasant woman who had a son named Michel who never got further from the table than the tile stove.  Finally she decided that she would have to send him out into the world, so she said to him, 'Michel, go out to the pond and fetch some water.'  'Yes,' said Michel, 'but just where is the pond?'  'Go out the front door, walk down the garden path, and you will see it to the left.'  Michel set forth at once and actually found the front door, the garden path, and the pond. When he pulled the bucket from the pond a large pike jumped out of it, and asked Michel to throw him back into the water, and he would reward him greatly.  'Did I tell you to jump out of the bucket?' asked Michel. 'You can jump back into the water by yourself!'  The pike continued to beg, finally promising Michel that all his wishes would come true if he would throw him back into the water. Michel did just that, then picked up the bucket and returned home.  Now while at the pond in the distance he had seen a house that glistened magnificently like pure silver and gold, so he asked his mother, 'Mother, what kind of a house is the one that I saw from the pond?'  His mother said, 'That is the king's house. He lives there with the beautiful princess.'  When Michel heard that a beautiful princess lived there, he thought, 'I will see if the pike told me the truth. I wish that the princess should become pregnant.'  Not long afterward the princess did indeed become pregnant, and when the king discovered this he became very angry and reprimanded her bitterly. But she swore sincerely that no one had been with her; it must have happened while she was asleep. However, the kind did not believe her.  With time she gave birth to a boy, and because the father's name was not known, he was named after his grandfather.  When the boy grew older he noticed that his grandfather was not his father, and he asked, 'Tell me, who is my father?'  The grandfather answered, 'You do not have a father.'  'How can I not have a father?' replied the boy. 'Everyone has a father. You just don't know who mine is!'  Then the old king had to admit that he did have a father, but that no one knew who he was.  Then the boy said, 'Let's give a large feast, and I'll find out who he is.'  The king did just that, and all the ministers, generals, and such people within the king's realm came, and the boy mingled among them, carefully looking at each one. Finally he went back to the king and said, 'My father is not here. You will have to give a larger feast.'  So the king invited all of his officers and councilors and even some of the most prominent citizens to come together, and once the boy mingled among them, examining each one. But he did not find his father, and he said to the king, 'You must give a feast for everyone, and then I will find my father.'  Then all the citizens and peasants from the entire land were invited to come together. When Michel's mother heard about this she said, 'Michel, you too must go to the castle. The king is giving a general feast.'  Now Michel had only a dirty, tarry jacket and an old three-cornered hat, but his mother made him look as good as possible, and he went to the court. After everyone had gathered together in a large group, the boy ran quickly among them, and before long he stopped next to Michel in his tarry jacket and three-cornered hat.  Taking Michel by the hand, the boy led him to the king and said, 'This is my father!'  At first the king did not want to believe this, and he told the boy that he must be mistaken, but the boy insisted that Michel was his father.  Finally, beside himself with anger, the king said that he would neither accept the father, nor the mother, nor the child. Forthwith he had a large glass ball made with a lid that one could open and close. He had his daughter, Michel, and the boy put inside, then set it adrift on the open sea.  After they had drifted for some distance, with the princess sitting there bemoaning the fact that they had found such a father for her child, and that now they would miserably perish, Michel wished that they would come ashore on an island, and immediately the ball hit solid ground, and they all climbed out safely.  Then Michel wished for a magnificent castle with the best servants and all the houses that belonged to such a place, and immediately everything was there.  Now the princess was happier. Then Michel wished magnificent clothes for himself. Thus he lived here happily with his wife and his child for a long time.  Finally the princess grew lonely for her father and her homeland, and she told this to her husband, so he wished for a bridge to her father's kingdom, and immediately one was there, and indeed it had one railing of gold and the other of silver. Then they flew across the water in a golden coach to her father's castle. His anger disappeared when he discovered how well off his daughter now was, and they all lived happily and satisfied until they died.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
675,"Lazy Lars, Who Won the Princess",Denmark,"Translated from the German by D. L. Ashliman. © 2011.  Stroebe's source: Jens Kamp, 'Doven Lars, der fik Prinsessen,' Danske Folkæventyr (Copenhagen: Fr. Wøldikes Forlag, 1879), no. 15, pp. 160-69.  Kamp recorded this tale from an unidentified informant on the island of Bogø.","Klara Stroebe, 'Der faule Lars, der die Prinzessin bekam,' Nordische Volksmärchen. 1. Teil: Dänemark und Schweden (Jena: Eugen Diederichs, 1922), no. 30, pp. 142-49.","Once upon a time there was a very poor couple who lived not far from the king's castle. They had but one son, and he was not very promising, for he was so terribly lazy that the grass had plenty of time to grow beneath his feet. If you asked him to have a seat, you would be sure to find him later in the same spot. His name was Lars, and no one called him anything but Lazy Lars.  His parents worked every day up at the castle. His mother helped out in the kitchen and the father in the garden. Lars stayed at home the whole day doing nothing but turning into a complete lazybones.  One day at noon his mother came home to fix something to eat for herself and the boy. She was about to hang the pot over the fire, but there was no water in the house. They didn't have a well, so they had to fetch their water from a spring on the other side of the castle.  The mother said, 'Listen, Lazy Lars, run and fetch a little water from the spring, or there will be nothing for you to eat.'  'I'm going,' said Lars, but he did not move from where he was sitting. She said it once again, and he gave her the same answer, but he did not move at all. Then the mother became angry and reached for the poker to teach Lazy Lars a lesson with it, so he had to get up after all.  He took an old broad-brimmed hat and an old iron kettle whose feet had been knocked off and went on his way. But it was a slow trip, because the day was very hot and every few moments he turned the kettle upside down and sat on it for a while.  As he was passing the castle it happened that the king's daughter, a young and spirited princess, was sitting at a window, and when she saw Lazy Lars, whom she knew well, and observed the trip he was making with the kettle, she broke out laughing and called down to him, 'Where are you going, Lazy Lars?'  'To the spring to fetch water,' he shouted.  'Hurry up, Lazy Lars, or else your kettle without legs will run away from you!' she called back.  Lars answered that there was no danger of that.  'You are going to need a boy to help you carry your kettle, Lazy Lars,' she shouted haughtily.  It made Lars angry that she was thus making fun of him, and he looked up toward the window. He had never before seen such a beautiful girl, and he was so taken back that he just stood there with his mouth open staring at her. She laughed at him even more and shouted, 'Close your mouth, Lazy Lars, or your heart will get cold!'  Then Lars picked up his feet and did not stop again to rest until he came to the spring.  There he took a string, tied it to the handle of the kettle, and lowered it into the spring. The kettle filled with water, but when he pulled it back up there was a frog in it, and the frog could talk. Lars had never seen anything like this before. He set the kettle on the ground and looked in amazement at the frog, who asked him very politely if he could not be put back into the spring. But Lazy Lars said that that would not be possible, for it would be double the effort. The frog again asked politely, promising Lars that he could have one wish granted, if he would but put him back into the water.  Lars thought that that would not be bad. He took his old broad-brimmed hat and threw it onto the ground, then said that he wanted to have as many wishes granted as there were blades of grass covered by the hat, for he thought it would be all the same to the frog if he was going to the trouble to grant a wish.  So the frog was able to return to the spring and was happy about that.  Lars sat down next to his kettle, which he had filled up again, in order to take his time and think about what he should fish for. Of course, he thought that the first thing he should wish for would be that his kettle should get some legs and be able to walk, so he would not have to carry it. Then the princess would not be able to laugh at his kettle, saying that it had no feet, and she would not be able to make fun of him by saying that he needed a boy to carry the kettle.  He had scarcely uttered this wish, when the kettle had feet and looked like it wanted to run away. However, Lars took his time, for he wanted to think of another wish, but one did not come to him, so he and the kettle trotted off. He held tightly onto the string that he had tied to the kettle, so that it was half pulling him along behind. Because his large broad-brimmed hat grew too heavy and warm for him, he hung it on the kettle like a lid, and thus, like a proper kettle, it had both feet and a lid.  When he arrived at the castle window the young princess was still there, and when she saw the procession coming by with the kettle and the hat and Lazy Lars, she had to laugh, and she laughed so terribly hard that it almost made her sick.  'Now your kettle is walking by itself, Lazy Lars, and you don't have to carry your hat either!' she shouted. 'All you need now is a boy to push from behind!'  'You yourself should have a boy,' replied Lars, without thinking what he was saying, for he was tired of being teased.  Then the princess closed the window, for she no longer wanted to talk with Lazy Lars.  Lars arrived home safely with the kettle and got his noon meal. He did not give any thought to further wishes, for could not think of anything that he needed, so everything stayed as it was.  Time passed as always, but nearly a year later something strange was happening at the castle, for the princess had gotten very ill. The doctors were called in. They shook their heads and wrote prescriptions, each one longer than the others, but nothing helped even a little bit. Then the princess's mother had a private talk with her. They spoke for a long time, and the princess cried and insisted that she was innocent, but the queen did not believe her.  More time passed, and then there were no longer any doubts, for, as they say, a little barefoot boy came to the princes. The just old king nearly jumped out of his skin that such a scandal should come upon his house, and it did not make matters any better that the princess would not say anything about who the little prince's father was.  For good or for evil, more time passed, and the fatherless prince was three years old when the king said that he could no longer endure the scandal. He would find out who the child's father was, and the princess would have to marry whoever it turned out to be.  The king proclaimed across the whole realm that all men in the land, large and small, were to come together before the castle on a certain day. There they would hear the voice of the innocent child, who himself would determine who his father was.  The day arrived, and a large mass of people, fine and course, came together. Around the castle it was black with people.  On this day Lazy Lars's mother came home a little earlier than normal to prepare the noon meal, and as usual she found Lars sitting in the doorway enjoying the sunshine.  'I do say,' she called out, 'does my Lazy Lars have nothing better to do on such a day than to sit here doing nothing?'  Lars stretched and asked why she had said that, so she told him what was going on up at the castle. Lars thought that he was just as good as anyone else, so he meandered up there himself.  When the king saw Lazy Lars approaching the castle he thought that they could surely begin now, because certainly Lars would be the last one to arrive, even though he lived closest.  They put a golden apple in the little prince's hand, and the one to whom he would give the apple, he would be the father.  The child walked slowly back and forth with the golden apple among the many people, as though he did not know what he should do with it. Finally he caught sight of Lars, who was standing at the very back of the crowd with his hands in his pockets. He walked toward Lars and reached the apple to him.  Lars, in no hurry, slowly removed his hand from his pocket and took the apple. But then there came a huge uproar, so angry were the people -- large and small, poor and rich -- at Lars's good fortune. 'Yes,' they said, 'those who can neither read nor write have all the luck.'  Lars was nearly trampled by the envious mob, but he held the apple tightly and finally made his way to the king, the queen, and all the ministers.  When the king saw that it was Lazy Lars who had received the apple, he discovered that this final embarrassment was even worse than the first one. He took the princess, pushed her toward him, and said that he never wanted to see anything of them in his house again. If it had been a handsome gentleman then everything would have been all right, but Lazy Lars --!  The king ordered his people to put Lars and the princess and the child into a boat on the sea east of the castle. They could set their own course and travel to whatever country they might choose.  The king's order was carried out, and Lars and the princess were set adrift on the wild sea. They did not know which direction they were going. Evening came, and the princess cried pitifully. Lars, however, was lying on the bottom of the boat thinking only of himself, for this was the first time he had ever had water beneath him, and he was not up to a voyage at sea.  'What should we do?' cried the princess. 'Tell me, Lars, what should we do?'  'Yes, what should be do?' answered Lars. 'I don't know what we should do.'  And so they sailed on.  After a while the princess said, 'Say something, you Lazy Lars. You just lie there without saying a word.'  'What should I say then?' mumbled Lars. 'The only thing I can say is that I wish we would soon be on land!'  He had scarcely uttered this wish when there was suddenly before them, a beautiful island with woods and houses and people and cattle.  The princess was very happy that Lars had finally opened his mouth, and she thought that everything would now be quite simple, since he was able to wish so well. She would only have to put the words into his mouth, and he would utter the wish. First of all he would have to wish that he were a normal human being and not the lazy beast that he had been up until now. Then he would have to wish for a beautiful castle with everything that went with it. He had scarcely uttered these wishes when suddenly new life came into Lars, and in the middle of the island there stood a beautiful castle, shimmering like bright gold. Then Lars had to wish for splendid clothing, carriages and horses, soldiers, and much more; and suddenly it was all at hand. -- Yes, the princess knew exactly what she wanted.  The next morning after the king had gotten up, he went, as usual, to the window to look out over the sea. He had always liked to do this. There he saw a beautiful island east of his royal castle. On it was a castle that shimmered like bright gold. Could he trust his old eyes? No. He took a pair of spectacles and looked again.  Yes, the island and the castle were still there, and that was more than the old king could comprehend. He called his people and asked if until now they had ever seen anything of this before. They too opened their eyes wide and thought that the devil himself had done this to make fools of them, for previously there had no more been an island there than there are roses on a manure pile.  To assure himself the king had a ship made ready, and with his people he sailed over to the island. When he arrived on land, a row of soldiers was there, extending from the shore up to the castle. They presented arms to the old king, which pleased him greatly.  When the old king and his people finally arrived at the castle, his daughter approached them smiling. She fell at his feet and begged him to accept the two of them into his grace, promising that they would be obedient children.  The king was amazed, and his daughter had to tell him everything that had happened. She told him how she had been punished for having lightheartedly ridiculed Lazy Lars without considering that there might be some good in him after all. But it was good that everything had happened, for now she would not want anyone but Lars. He was no longer the way he had been before. New life had come into him.  Then Lars came out, and in his beautiful clothing he looked as stately as a prince. He confirmed what the princess had said, and he also asked the king for mercy.  All's well that ends well,' said the king. We live in a strange world, but whosoever should be together, will be together.  So everything was in order. They celebrated their wedding for many days, and they lived happily together. And when the old king died Lars became king and ruled many years with his queen.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
675,Emelyan the Fool,Russia,"Link to another translation of this story: W. R. S. Ralston, 'Emilian the Fool,' Russian Folk-Tales (London: Smith, Elder, and Company, 1873), pp. 263-67.","Robert Steele, The Russian Garland: Being Russian Folk Tales Translated from a Collection of Chapbooks Made in Moscow (London: A. M. Philpot, 1916), pp. 166-82.","In a certain village lived one time a peasant, who had three sons, two of whom were clever, but the third was a fool, and his name was Emelyan. And when the peasant had lived a long time, and was grown very old, he called his three sons to him, and said to them, 'My dear children, I feel that I have not much longer to live, so I give you the house and cattle, which you will divide among you, share and share alike. I have also given you each a hundred rubles.'  Soon after, the old man died, and the sons, when they had buried him, lived on happy and contented.  Some time afterward Emelyan's brothers took a fancy to go to the city and trade with the hundred rubles their father had left them. So they said to Emelyan, 'Hark ye, fool! We are going to the city, and will take your hundred rubles with us. And if we prosper in trade, we will buy you a red coat, red boots, and a red cap. But do you stay here at home. And when our wives, your sisters-in-law, desire you to do anything, do as they bid you.'  The fool, who had a great longing for a red coat and cap, and red boots, answered that he would do whatever his sisters-in-law bade him. So his brothers went off to the city, and the fool stayed at home with his two sisters.  One day, when the winter was come, and the cold was great, his sisters-in-law told him to go out and fetch water. But the fool remained lying on the stove, and said, 'Aye, indeed, and who then are you?'  The sisters began to scold him, and said, 'How now, fool! We are what you see. You know how cold it is, and that it is a man's business to go.'  But he said, 'I am lazy.'  'How,' they exclaimed, 'are you lazy?' Surely you will want to eat, and if we have no water we cannot cook. But never mind,' they added. 'We will only tell our husbands not to give him anything when they have bought the fine red coat and all for him!'  The fool heard what they said. And, as he longed greatly to have the red coat and cap, he saw that he must go. So he got down from the stove and began to put on his shoes and stockings and to dress himself to go out. When he was dressed, he took the buckets and the ax and went down to the river hard by. And when he came to the river he began to cut a large hole in the ice. Then he drew water in the buckets, and setting them on the ice, he stood by the hole, looking into the water. And as the fool was looking, he saw a large pike swimming about. However stupid Emelyan was, he felt a wish to catch this pike. So he stole cautiously and softly to the edge of the hole, and making a sudden grasp at the pike he caught him, and pulled him out of the water. Then, putting him in his bosom, he was hastening home with him, when the pike cried out, 'Ho, fool! Why have you caught me?'  He answered, 'To take you home and get my sisters-in-law to cook you.'  'Nay, fool! Do not take me home, but throw me back into the water, and I will make a rich man of you.'  But the fool would not consent and jogged on his way home. When the pike saw that the fool was not for letting him go, he said to him, 'Hark ye, fool! Put me back in the water, and will do for you everything you do not like to do yourself. You will only have to wish, and it shall be done.'  On hearing this, the fool rejoiced beyond measure, for as he was uncommonly lazy, he thought to himself, 'If the pike does everything I have no mind to do, all will be done without my being troubled to work.' So he said to the pike, 'I will throw you back into the water if you do all you promise.'  The pike said, 'Let me go first, and then I will keep my promise.'  But the fool answered, 'Nay, nay, you must first perform your promise, and then I will let you go.'  When the pike saw that Emelyan would not put him into the water, he said, 'If you wish me to do all you desire, you must first tell me what your desire is.'  'I wish,' said the fool, 'that my buckets should go of themselves from the river up the hill to the village without spilling any of the water.'  Then said the pike, 'Listen now, and remember the words I say to you: 'At the pike's command, go, buckets, of yourselves up the hill!''  Then the fool repeated after him these words, and instantly, with the speed of thought, the buckets ran up the hill. When Emelyan saw this he was amazed beyond measure, and he said to the pike, 'But will it always be so?'  'Everything you desire will be done,' replied the pike. 'But I warn you not to forget the words I have taught you.'  Then Emelyan put the pike into the water and followed his buckets home.  The neighbors were all amazed and said the one another, 'This fool makes the buckets come up of themselves from the river, and he follows them home at his leisure.'  But Emelyan took no notice of them, and went his way home. The buckets were by this time in the house, and standing in their place on the foot-bench. So the fool got up and stretched himself on the stove.  After some time his sisters-in-law said to him again, 'Emelyan, why are you lazying there? Get up and go cut wood.'  But the fool replied, 'Yes! And you -- who are you?'  'Don't you see it is now winter, and if you don't cut wood you will be frozen?'  'I am lazy,' said the fool.  'What! You are lazy?' cried the sisters. 'If you do not go instantly and cut wood, we will tell our husbands not to give you the red coat, or the red cap, or the fine red boots!'  The fool, who longed for the red cap, coat, and boots, saw that he must go and cut the wood. But as it was bitterly cold, and he did not like to come down from off the stove, he repeated in an undertone, as he lay, the words, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, up, ax, and hew the wood! And do you, logs, come of yourselves in the stove!'  Instantly the ax jumped up, ran out into the yard, and began to cut up the wood. And the logs came of themselves into the house, and laid themselves in the stove. When the sisters saw this, they wondered exceedingly at the cleverness of the fool. And, as the ax did of its own accord the work whenever Emelyan was wanted to cut wood, he lived for some time in peace and harmony with them. At length the wood was all finished, and they said to him, 'Emelyan, we have no more wood, so you must go in the forest and cut some.'  'Aye,' said the fool, 'and you, who are you, then?'  The sisters replied, 'The wood is far off, and it is winter, and too cold for us to go.'  But the fool only said, 'I am lazy.'  'How! You are lazy?' cried they. 'You will be frozen then. And moreover, we will take care, when our husbands come home, that they shall not give you the red coat, cap, and boots.'  As the fool longed for the clothes, he saw that he must go and cut the wood. So he got off the stove, put on his shoes and stockings, and dressed himself. And, when he was dressed, he went into the yard, dragged the sledge out of the shed, took a rope and the ax with him, and called out to his sisters-in-law, 'Open the gate.'  When the sisters saw that he was riding off without any horses, they cried, 'Why, Emelyan, you have got on the sledge without yoking the horses!'  But he answered that he wanted no horses, and bade them only open the gate. So the sisters threw open the gate, and the fool repeated the words, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, away, sledge, off to the wood!'  Instantly the sledge galloped out of the yard at such a rate that the people of the village, when they saw it, were filled with amazement at Emelyan's riding the sledge without horses, and with such speed that a pair of horses could never have drawn it at such a rate. The fool had to pass through the town on his way to the wood, and away he dashed at full speed. But the fool did not know that he should cry out, 'Make way!' so that he did not run over anyone. But away he went, and rode over quite a lot of people. An, though they ran after him, no one was able to overtake and bring him back.  At last Emelyan, having go clear of the town, came to the wood and stopped his sledge. then he got down and said, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, up, ax, hew wood. And you, logs, lay yourselves on the sledge and tie yourselves together.'  Scarcely had the fool uttered these words when the ax began to cut wood, the logs to lay themselves on the sledge, and the rope to tie them down. When the ax had cut wood enough, Emelyan desired it to cut him a good cudgel. And when the ax had done this, he mounted the sledge and cried, 'Up, and away! At the pike's command, and at my desire, go home, sledge!'  Away then went the sledge at the top of its speed, and when he come to the town, where he had hurt so many people, he found a crowd waiting to catch him. And, as soon as he got into the gates, they laid hold of him, dragged him off his sledge, and fell to beating him. When the fool saw how they were treating him, he said in an under voice, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, up, cudgel, and thrash them!'  Instantly the cudgel began to lay about it on all sides. and, when the people were all driven away, he made his escape, and come to his own village. The cudgel, having thrashed all soundly, rolled home after him. And Emelyan, as usual, when he got home, climbed up and lay upon the stove.  After he had left the town, all the people fell to talking, no so much of the number of persons he had injured, as of their amazement at his riding in a sledge without horses. And the news spread from on to another, till it reached the court and came to the ears of the king. And when the king heard it, he felt an extreme desire to see him. So he sent an officer with some soldiers to look for him. The officer instantly started, and took the road that the fool had taken. And when he came to the village where Emelyan lived, he summoned the starosta, or head-man of the village, and said to him, 'I am sent by the king to take a certain fool, and bring him before his majesty.'  The starosta at once showed him the house where Emelyan lived, and the officer went into it and asked where the fool was. He was lying on the stove, and answered, 'What is it you want with me?'  'How!' said the officer. 'What do I want with you? Get up this instant and dress yourself. I must take you to the king.'  But Emelyan said, 'What to do?' Whereat the officer became so enraged at the rudeness of his replies that he hit him on the cheek.  'At the pike's command, and at my desire,' said the fool, 'up, cudgel, and thrash them!'  Instantly up sprang the cudgel and began to lay about it on all sides. So the officer was obliged to go back to the town as fast as he could. And when he came before the king, and told him how the fool had cudgeled him, the king marveled greatly, and would not believe the story.  Then the king called to him a wise man and ordered him to bring the fool by craft, if nothing else would do. So the wise man went to the village where Emelyan lived, called the starosta before him, and said, 'I am ordered by the king to take your fool. And therefore ask for persons with whom he lived.'  Then the starosta ran and fetched Emelyan's sisters-in-law. The king's messenger asked them what it was the fool liked, and they answered, 'Noble sir, if anyone entreats our fool earnestly to anything, he flatly refuses the first and second time. The third time he consents, and does what he is required, for he dislikes to be roughly treated.'  The king's messenger thereupon dismissed them and forbade them to tell Emelyan that he had summoned them before him. Then he brought raisins, baked plums, and grapes, and went to the fool. When he came into the room, he went up to the stove and said, 'Emelyan, why are you lying there?' And with that he gave him the raisins, the baked plums, and the grapes, and said, 'Emelyan, we will go together to the king. I will take you with me.'  But the fool replied, 'I am very warm here,' for there was nothing he liked so much as being warm.  Then the messenger began to entreat him, 'Be so good, Emelyan, do let us go! You will like the court vastly.'  'No,' said the fool. 'I am lazy.'  But the messenger entreated him once more, 'Do come with me, there's my good fellow, and the king will give you a fine red coat and cap, and a pair of red boots.'  When the fool heard of the red coat he said, 'Go on before. I will follow you.'  The messenger pressed him no further, but went out and asked the sisters-in-law if there was any danger of the fool's deceiving him. They assured him there was not, and he went away.  Emelyan, who remained lying on the stove, then said to himself, 'How I dislike this going to the king!' And after a minute's thought, he said, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, up stove, and away to the town!'  And instantly the wall of the room opened, and the stove moved out. And when it got clear of the yard, it went at such a rate that there was no overtaking it. Soon it came up with the king's messenger, and went along with him into the palace. When the king saw the fool coming, he went forth with all his court to meet him. And he was amazed beyond measure at seeing Emelyan come riding on the stove. But the fool lay still and said nothing.  Then the king asked him why he had upset so many people on his way to the wood.  'It was their own fault,' said the fool. 'Why did they not get out of the way?'  Just at that moment the king's daughter came to the window, and Emelyan happening suddenly to look up, and seeing how handsome she was, said in a whisper, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, let this lovely maiden fall in love with me!'  And scarcely had he spoken the words when the king's daughter in love with him. Then said the fool, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, up, stove, and away home!'  Immediately the stove left the palace, went through the town, returned home, and set itself in its old place. And Emelyan lived there for some time comfortably and happy.  But it was very different in the town. For, at the word of Emelyan, the king's daughter had fallen in love, and she began to implore her father to give her the fool for her husband. The king was in a great rage, both with her and with fool, but he knew not how to catch him. Then his minister proposed that the same officer, as a punishment for not succeeding the first time, should be sent again to take Emelyan.  This advice pleased the king, and he summoned the officer to his presence, and said, 'Hark ye, friend! I sent you before for the fool, and you came back without him. To punish you, I now send you for him a second time. If you bring him, you shall be rewarded. If you return without him, you shall be punished.'  When the officer heard this, he left the king and lost no time to going in quest of the fool. And on coming to the village he called for the starosta and said to him, 'Here is money for you. Buy everything necessary for a good dinner tomorrow. Invite Emelyan, and when he comes, make him drink until he falls asleep.'  The starosta, knowing that the officer came from the king, was obliged to obey him, so he bought all that was required and invited the fool. And Emelyan said he would come, whereat the officer was greatly rejoiced. So next day the fool came to dinner, and the starosta plied him so well with drink that he fell fast asleep. When the officer saw this, he ordered the kibitka (or carriage) to be brought, and putting the fool into it, they drove off to the town, and went straight to the palace.  As soon as the king heard that they were come, he ordered a large cask to be provided without delay, and to be bound with strong iron hoops. When the cask was brought to the king, and he saw that everything was ready as he desired, he commanded his daughter and the fool to be put in it, and the cask to be well pitched. And when this was done, the cask was thrown into the sea, and left to the mercy of the waves. Then the king returned to his palace, and the cask floated along upon the sea.  All this time the fool was fast asleep. When he awoke, and saw that it was quite dark, he said to himself, 'Where am I?' for he thought he was alone.  But the princess said, 'You are in a cask, Emelyan! And I am shut up with you in it.'  'But who are you?' said the fool.  'I am the king's daughter,' replied she. And she told him why she had been shut up there with him.  Then she besought him to free himself and her out of the cask, but the fool said, 'Nay, I am warm enough here.'  'But grant me at least the favor,' said the princess. 'Have pity on my tears, and deliver me out of this cask.'  'Why so?' said Emelyan. 'I am lazy.'  Then the princess began to entreat him still more urgently, until the fool was at last moved by her tears and entreaties, and said, 'Well, I will do this for you.' Then he said softly, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, cast us, O sea, upon the shore, where we may dwell on dry land. But let it be near our own country. And, cask, fall to pieces on the shore.'  Scarcely had the fool uttered these words when the waves began to roll, and the cask was thrown on a dry place, and fell to pieces of itself. So Emelyan got up and went with the princess round about the spot where they were cast. And the fool saw that they were on a fine island, where there was an abundance of trees, with all kinds of fruit upon them.  When the princess saw this, she was greatly rejoiced and said, 'But, Emelyan, where shall we live? There is not even a nook here.'  'You want too much,' said the fool.  'Grant me one favor,' replied the princess. 'Let there be at least a little cottage in which we may shelter ourselves from the rain,' for the princess knew that he could do everything that he wished.  But the fool said, 'I am lazy.'  Nevertheless, she went on entreating him, until at last Emelyan was obliged to do as she desired. Then he stepped aside and said, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, let me have in the middle of this island a finer castle than the king's, and let a crystal bridge lead from my castle to the royal palace. And let there be attendants of all conditions in the court!'  Hardly were the words spoken, when there appeared a splendid castle, with a crystal bridge. The fool went with the princess into the castle and beheld the apartments all magnificently furnished, and a number of persons, footmen and all kinds of officers, who waited for the fool's commands.  When he saw that all these men were like men, and the he alone was ugly and stupid, he wished to be better, so he said, 'At the pike's command, and at my desire, away, let me become a youth without an equal, and extremely wise!' And hardly had he spoken, when he became so handsome and so wise that all were amazed.  Emelyan now sent on of his servants to the king to invite him and all his court. So the servant went along the crystal bridge which the fool had made, and when he came to the court, the ministers brought him before the king, and Emelyan's messenger said, 'Please, your majesty, I am sent by my master to invite you do dinner.'  The king asked him who his master was, but he answered, 'Please, your majesty, I can tell you nothing about my master (for the fool had ordered him not to tell who he was), but if you come to dine with him, he will inform you himself.'  The king, being curious to know who had sent to invite him, told the messenger that he would go without fail. The servant went away, and when he got home, the king and his court set out along the crystal bridge to go and visit the fool. And, when they arrived at the castle, Emelyan came forth to meet the king, took him by his white hands, kissed him on his sugared lips, led him into his castle, and seated him at the oaken tables covered with fine diaper tablecloths, and spread with sugar-meats and honey-drinks. The king and him ministers ate and drank and made merry.  When they rose from the table and retired, the fool said to the king, 'Does your majesty know who I am?'  As Emelyan was now dressed in fine clothes, and was very handsome, it was not possible to recognize him, so the king replied that he did not know him.  Then the fool said, 'Does not your majesty recollect how a fool came riding on a stove to your court, and how you fastened him up in a pitched cask with your daughter, and cast them into the sea? Know me now. I am that Emelyan.'  When the king saw him thus in his presence he was greatly terrified and knew not what to do. But the fool went to the princess and led her out to him. And the king, on seeing his daughter, was greatly rejoiced, and said, 'I have been very unjust to you, and so I gladly give you my daughter to wife.'  The fool humbly thanked the king. And when Emelyan had prepared everything for the wedding, it was celebrated with great magnificence, and the following day the fool gave a feast to the ministers and all the people. When the festivities were at an end, the king wanted to give up his kingdom to his son-in-law, but Emelyan did not wish to have the crown. So the king went back to his kingdom, and the fool remained in the castle and lived happily.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
675,Halfman,Greece,"Translated from the German by D. L. Ashliman. © 2011.  The episode of the spoon planted in the king's boot is reminiscent of the Bible story of Joseph, who had a silver goblet planted in his brother Benjamin's pack. (Genesis, chapters 44-45)","'Der halbe Mensch,' Johann Georg von Hahn, Griechische und albanesische Märchen, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Wilhelm Engelmann, 1864), pp. 102-109.","Once upon a time there was a woman who had no children. She was so unhappy about this that one day she prayed to God, 'Dear God, give me a child, even if it were only half a child.'  Then God gave her a boy with half a head, half a nose, half a mouth, half a body, one hand and one foot. He was so misshapen that the mother always kept him at home and did not send him out to work.  One day, however, he became bored, and he said to his mother, 'Mother, I do not want to stay at home any longer. Give me an ax and a mule. I want to go out into the woods to fetch wood.'  His mother replied, 'How can you chop wood, dear child? You are only half a person.'  Nonetheless, he begged so long that finally his mother gave him an ax and a mule. He took these into the woods. He chopped wood and brought it back home. He did this work so well that his mother allowed him to continue.  One day when he was fetching wood he passed by the princess's castle. When she saw him with one foot and one arm sitting on the mule she laughed out loud and called to her maidservants, 'Come and see the half man!'  This embarrassed Halfman so much that he dropped his ax. He thought for a moment, then asked himself, 'Shall I get off and pick it up, or shall I not?'  In the end he did not get off, but instead left the ax lying there rode on.  The princess said to the maidservants, 'Just look at Halfman! He drops his ax and doesn't even get off to pick it up!'  This embarrassed Halfman even more, and he dropped his rope. Once again he thought for a moment, then said to himself, 'Shall I get off and pick up the rope, or shall I not?'  In the end he rode off, leaving the rope lying there.  With that the princess called to her maidservants, 'Just look at Halfman! He drops his ax and his rope and doesn't even get off to pick them up!'  Halfman rode on to the place where he was gathering wood, but arriving there he said to himself, 'How can I chop wood, and how can I tie it together?'  A lake was there, and while he stood there looking into the water he saw a fish swim up to the bank. He quickly threw his ragged coat onto it and caught it.  The fish begged for its life, saying, 'Let me loose, Halfman, and I will teach you a charm to make all your wishes come true.'  Then Halfman said, 'If what you say is true, then load my mule with wood.'  The fish said, 'By the first word of God and the second word of the fish, the mule shall be loaded with wood!'  And behold, before he finished speaking this charm, the mule was loaded with wood.  Seeing this, Halfman said to the fish, 'If you will teach me the charm I will set you free.'  The fish said, 'Whenever you want something to happen, just say, 'By the first word of God and the second word of the fish,' and whatever you wish for shall be granted.'  With that Halfman set the fish free, took his loaded mule, and walked off toward the princess's castle.  When the princess saw him she called to her maidservants, 'Come quickly and see how Halfman has loaded his mule without an ax or a rope.' Then they all laughed until they could laugh no more.  This made Halfman angry, and he said, 'By the first word of God and the second word of the fish, let the princess become pregnant!'  When her time came she bore a child, and no one knew who the father was.  Her father summoned her and asked her who the father was, but she answered repeatedly, 'I have not even spoken with a man. I do not know where the child came from.'  When the child was older the king summoned everyone to his capitol. After they had all gathered there he gave the child an apple and said, 'Go forth and give this to your father.'  While the child was walking about and playing with the apple, he dropped it onto the ground, and it rolled away from him, finally coming to a rest in the corner where Halfman was standing. The child bent over to pick up the apple, then lifting his head he saw Halfman and said, 'Here Papa! Take the apple!'  Hearing this, the people took hold of Halfman and brought him before the king.  The king said, 'Because it was Halfman who did this, we must kill them all: him, the princess, and the child.'  However, some of his councilors said to him, 'What you say is unjust. The princess is your daughter, and you cannot shed your own blood. It would be better to make an iron cask, put the princess, Halfman, and the child inside, and throw them into the sea. Give them only a bunch of figs for the child, so that it will not die too quickly.'  This advice pleased the king. Thus he had the cask made, the three placed inside, and thrown into the sea.  Now seated inside the cask, the princess said to Halfman, 'I have never seen you before. How is it that we are now here together?'  'Give me a fig,' replied Halfman, 'and I will tell you about it.'  The princess gave him a fig from those that they had brought along for the child. After he had eaten it, Halfman said, 'Don't you remember how you laughed at me when I passed by the castle, and I dropped my ax and my rope?'  'Yes, I remember that,' replied the princess.  'Now I know a charm, and when I repeat it my every wish is fulfilled. At that time I wished that you should become pregnant, and that is why you became pregnant.'  To that the princess said, 'If you know such a charm that fulfills your every wish, then wish us out of this cask and onto dry land.'  Halfman replied, 'Give me a fig, and I will do so.'  So the princess gave him a fig, and he secretly said, 'By the first word of God and the second word of the fish, may this cask drift onto dry land and open itself so that we can get out.'  And immediately the cask hit dry land, opened itself, and they all got out.  It was raining outside, and the princess said, 'Speak your charm so that we can find shelter and not get wet.'  Halfman said, 'Give me a fig, and I will do so.'  So the princess gave him a fig, and he said to himself, 'By the first word of God and the second word of the fish, let there be shelter here!'  Suddenly such was the case, and they got under it.  The princess said to Halfman, 'Until now you have done very well! Now speak your charm and give us a large castle whose stones and timbers and furnishings all can speak.'  Halfman said, 'Give me a fig, and I will do so.'  So the princess gave him a fig, and he said to himself, 'By the first word of God and the second word of the fish, let there be castle whose stones and timbers and furnishings all can speak!'  Suddenly such a castle was there, and everything connected to it could speak, and they went inside to live there, and Halfman brought forth everything that they needed and whatever the princess wished for herself.  One day the king was out hunting, and he saw in the distance a castle that he had never seen before. He sent two of his servants thither, saying to them, 'Take these partridges, go to that castle and broil them there, and see what kind of castle it is, for I have often been here hunting, but I have never before noticed it.'  The servants, thus commanded by the king, took the partridges and went to the castle. When they approached the outer door, it said to them, 'What do you want here?'  They said, 'The king sent us here to broil these two partridges.'  The door replied, 'Stay here. First I must ask the lady of the house.'  Then the outer door asked the first inner door, which in turn asked the second one, which in turn asked the third one, and so on, door to door, until the question reached the lady of the house. She ordered that the strangers be admitted, and suddenly all the doors opened by themselves, allowing the servants to come inside. They were greatly amazed when even the stones and the timbers welcomed them.  Entering the kitchen one of them said, 'Where can we find some wood?'  The pieces of wood called out, 'Here we are!'  Then they said to one another, 'We have no salt and no butter,' to which the salt and butter called out, 'Here we are!'  After they had prepared the partridges, put them on the spit, and placed them next to the fire, they wanted to look around outside the kitchen to see if there were other things in the castle that could speak. However, they found so many such things and stayed away from the kitchen so long that the partridges had burned to charcoal when they finally thought about them and ran back to the kitchen.  They did not know how they could excuse themselves to the king for having burned up his partridges. Finally they decided to go directly back to him and tell him what they had seen.  The king did not believe them, and he sent other servants thither. They experienced the same things that the first ones had, and when the king heard them say the same thing, he decided that he would go there himself to see and hear with his own eyes and ears.  When he arrived at the outside door, it said to him, 'Welcome, your majesty!'  When he went inside, all the stones and timbers called out the same welcome to him, and the king was amazed that here wood and stones could talk. Hearing that the king himself had arrived, the princess went to him to receive him. She led him into her splendid rooms, but did not tell him who she was. The king wondered about her correct manners and her elegant speech.  Meanwhile the servants in the kitchen wanted to broil the partridges that the king had brought, and the same thing happened to them that had happened to the others. Amazed at all they saw and heard, they let the partridges burn to charcoal.  When the king learned of this he became extremely angry, for he was very hungry and now had nothing to eat.  The princess said, 'I beg of your majesty to do us the favor of dining in our humble house.'  The king accepted, and she left him in order to look for Halfman, who had sneaked away from the king. Finding him, she said, 'I invited the king to eat with us. Now speak a charm to provide a splendid feast with the appropriate servants, musicians, dancers, and everything else to go with it.'  To this Halfman said, 'Give me a fig, and I will speak the charm.'  So the princess gave him a fig, and after he had eaten it he spoke the charm, asking for everything that the princess wanted, and suddenly a feast appeared, with everything that went with it.  As soon as the king and his servants were seated at the table the musicians began to play, and they played so beautifully that the king was amazed. He said, 'I am a king, but I have never had such music in my castle.'  Then the dancers began to dance, and they danced so beautifully that the king said to the princess, 'I am a king, but I have never had such dancers in my castle. Tell me how you came to them.'  The princess replied, 'My father left them to me as an inheritance.'  Then the princess went to Halfman and said, 'You must speak a charm that will put a spoon into one of the king's boots.'  Halfman replied, 'Give me a fig and I will do so.'  The princess gave him a fig, and he spoke the charm, granting the princess's wish.  When the king was about to depart, the princes said, 'Wait a moment. I believe that something is missing.'  This disturbed the king, who said, 'No, that is not possible. We are not such people!'  But the princess would not be dissuaded. She called out, 'Are you platters all there?'  'Yes!'  'Are you plates all there?'  'Yes!'  'Are you spoons all there?'  With that the spoon inside the king's boot called out, 'I am stuck in the king's boot!'  Now the princess began to scold the king, saying, 'I invited you into my house, prepared a feast for you, and granted you every honor, and now your are stealing one of my spoons! Are you not ashamed of yourself?'  The king said, 'This is not possible! Someone put the spoon into my boot! You are doing me a severe injustice!'  To that the princess said, 'You also did such an injustice to me when you put Halfman and me into a cask, although I had done nothing wrong.'  The king stood there a long time, speechless with amazement. Then the princess brought Halfman to him, and Halfman explained everything that had happened.  The king was amazed at this tale. He took his daughter back home with him and married her to one of his noblemen. He appointed Halfman to be his chief bodyguard and gave him his most beautiful slave girl for a wife.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
675,Juvadi and the Princess,Italy,"Translated by D. L. Ashliman. © 2011.  Wesselski's source: Calabria, a region in the extreme south of mainland Italy. Wesselski does not give this piece a title.","Albert Wesselski, Der Hodscha Nasreddin: türkische, arabische, berberische, maltesische, sizilianische, kalabrische, kroatische, serbische und griechische Märlein und Schwänke, vol. 2 (Weimar: Alexander Duncker Verlag, 1911), no. 439, pp. 123-25.","One day Juvadi went to gather twigs, and he found an oak branch with acorns on it. He picked it up and carefully carried it in his arms. As he approached town he straddled it like a horse and thus pulled it further along.  The little princess was standing at one of the king's windows, and she began to laugh out loud.  Juvadi saw her and said, 'May you get pregnant by me!'  She soon became pregnant, and nine months later gave birth to a girl. The king was so angry about this that he called together his council and said, 'Advise me what I should do to the person who has brought this shame upon me. I cannot believe what people are saying.'  The councilors said, 'Bring together all the men in the kingdom, and then we shall see whom the child calls Papa.'  So the king summoned all the men to his house. His barons, princes, knights, citizens, and peasants all came, but the child did not call any of them Papa. The only man left was Juvadi, who did not come. Then the king forced him to come, and the child had scarcely seen him when she called him Papa.  Once again the king called together his council and asked, 'What should the punishment be for those who caused this shame?'  They answered, 'Let us put them into a cask and roll it over a cliff.'  So they had a cask made and locked the princess, her daughter, and Juvadi inside, then rolled it to a cliff to push it over.  As it rolled along, Juvadi said, 'Let me out! Let me out! I'll give you figs and raisins.'  So saying, he threw handfuls of figs and raisins out of the cask. The cask stopped rolling at a level spot. Juvadi broke open the cask, and they all got out.  A witch was in the vicinity, and she laughed so hard that a swelling on her neck disappeared. She was very happy about this, and she said to Juvadi, 'What is your wish? I can do everything, and will do something good for you.'  Juvadi answered, 'Make a house for me, for we have no place to live.'  The witch picked up a stick and made a circle with it, saying, 'Here shall be a palace, with all the comforts of the world.'  Suddenly a beautiful palace was there, and Juvadi happily went inside with the princess and their daughter.  The princess then said to Juvadi, 'Now you have to have an enchantment that will drive out your stupidity.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
675,Peter the Fool,Giovanni Francesco Straparola,"First published as Le piacevoli notti, 2 vols., 1550/1553.  Edited by D. L. Ashliman. © 2011.  The episode of the golden apple planted in the father's robe is reminiscent of the Bible story of Joseph, who had a silver goblet planted in his brother Benjamin's pack. (Genesis, chapters 44-45)","Giovanni Francesco Straparola, The Facetious Nights of Straparola: The Italian Novelists, translated into English by W. G. Waters; vol. 1 (London: Privately printed for members of the Society of Bibliophiles, 1901), night 3, tale 1, pp. 242-59.","There is proof enough, dear ladies, both in the chronicles of the past and in the doings of our own day, that a fool, whether by lucky accident or by sheer force of blundering, may sometimes score a success where a wise man might fail. Therefore, it has come into my mind to tell you the story of one of these fools, who, through the issue of a very foolish deed, got for his wife the daughter of a king and became a wise man himself into the bargain.  In the Ligurian Sea there is an island called Capraia, which, at the time I am describing, was ruled by King Luciano. Amongst his subjects was a poor widow named Isotta, who lived with her only son Peter, a fisher lad. But from Peter's fishing she would scarce have kept body and soul together, for he was a poor silly creature known to all the neighbors as Peter the Fool.  Though he went fishing every day he never caught anything, but in spite of his ill success he would always come up from his boat shouting and bellowing so that all the town might hear him, 'Mother, mother, bring out your tubs and your buckets and your pails. Bring them out all, great and small, for Peter has caught a boatful of fish.'  The poor woman soon got to know the value of Peter's bragging, but in spite of this she always prepared the vessels, only to find herself jeered at by the silly youth, who, as soon as he came near, would thrust out his long tongue in ridicule, and otherwise mock at her.  Now it chanced that the widow's cottage stood just opposite to the palace of King Luciano, who had only one child, a pretty graceful girl about ten years old, Luciana by name.  She, it happened, was looking out of the window of the palace one day when Peter came back from fishing, crying out to his mother to bring out her tubs and her buckets and her pails to hold the fish with which he was laden, and so much was she diverted at the silly antics of the fool, that it seemed likely she would die with laughing.  Peter, when he saw that he was made sport of, grew very angry, and threw some ugly words at her, but the more he raged the more she -- after the manner of willful children -- laughed and made mock at him.  Peter, however, went on with his fishing day after day, and played the same trick on his mother every evening on his return. But at last fortune favored him, and he caught a fine tunny, very big and fat.  Overjoyed at his good luck, he began to shout and cry out over and over again, 'Mother and I will have a good supper tonight,' when, to his amazement, he heard the tunny which he had just caught begin to speak, 'Ah! My dear brother, I pray you of your courtesy to give me my life. When once you have eaten me, what farther benefit do you think you will get from me? But if you will let me live there is no telling what service I may not render you.'  But Peter, whose thoughts just then were set only on his supper, hoisted the fish on his shoulders and set off homewards. But the tunny still kept on beseeching his captor to spare his life, promising him first as many fish as he could want, and finally to do him any favor he might demand. Peter was not hardhearted, and, though a fool, fancied he might profit by sparing the fish, so he listened to the tunny's petition and threw him back into the sea.  The fish, sensible of Peter's kindness, and not wishing to seem ungrateful, told Peter to get into his boat again and tilt it over so that the water could run in. This advice Peter at once followed, and, having leant over on one side, he let the boat be half filled with water, which brought in with it such a huge quantity of fish that the boat was in danger of sinking.  Peter was well nigh beside himself with joy when be saw what had happened, and, when he had taken as many fish as he could carry, he betook himself homewards, crying out, as was his wont, when he drew near to the cottage, 'Mother, mother, bring out your tubs and your buckets and your pails. Bring out them all, great and small, for Peter has caught a boatful of fish.'  At first poor Isotta, thinking that he was only playing his old fool's game, took no heed. But at last, hearing him cry out louder than ever, and fearing that he might commit some greater folly if he should not find the vessels prepared as usual, got them all ready. What was her surprise to see her simpleton of a son at last coming back with a brave spoil!  The Princess Luciana was at the palace window, and hearing Peter bellowing louder than ever, she laughed louder than ever, so that Peter was almost mad with rage, and having left his fish, he rushed back to the seashore, and called aloud on the tunny to come and help him.  The fish, hearing Peter's voice, came to the marge of the shore, and putting his nose up out of the waves, asked what service was required of him.  'What service!' cried Peter. 'Why I would that Luciana, that saucy minx, the daughter of our king, should find herself with child at once.'  What followed was a proof that the tunny had. not made an empty promise to Peter, for before many days had passed the figure of the young girl, who was not twelve years old, began to show signs of maternity.  Her mother, when she marked this, fell into great trouble, but she could not believe that a child of eleven could be pregnant, and rather set down the swelling to the working of an incurable disease; so she brought Luciana to be examined by some women expert in such cases, and these, as soon as they saw the girl, declared that she was certainly with child.  The queen, overwhelmed by this terrible news, told it also to the king, and he, when he heard it, cried aloud for death rather than such ignominy. Strict inquisition was made to discover who could have violated the child, but nothing was found out; so Luciano, to hide her dire disgrace, determined to have his daughter secretly killed.  The queen, on hearing this, begged her husband to spare the unfortunate Luciana till the child should be born, and then do with her what he would. The king, moved with compassion for his only daughter, gave way so far; and in due time Luciana was delivered of a boy so fine and beautiful that the king could no longer harbor the thought of putting them away, but, on the other hand, gave order to the queen that the boy should be well tended till he was a year old.  When this time was completed the child had become beautiful beyond compare, and then it came into the king's mind that he would again make a trial to find out who the father might be. He issued a proclamation that every man in the city who had passed fourteen years should, under pain of losing his head, present himself at the palace bearing in his hand some fruit or flower which might attract the child's attention. On the appointed day, in obedience to the proclamation, all those summoned came to the palace, bearing, this man one thing and that man another, and, having passed before the king, sat down according to their rank.  Now it happened that a certain young man as he was betaking himself to the palace met Peter, and said to him, 'Peter, why are you not going to the palace like all the others to obey the order of the king?'  'What should I do in such a crowd as that?' said Peter. 'Cannot you see I am a poor naked fellow, and have hardly a rag to my back, and yet you ask me to push myself in amongst all those gentlemen and courtiers? No.'  Then the young man, laughing at him, said, 'Come with me, and I will give you a coat. Who knows whether the child may not turn out to be yours?'  In the end Peter let himself be persuaded to go to the young man's house, and having put on a decent coat, they went together to the palace. But when they arrived there Peter's heart again failed him, and he hid himself behind a door. By this time all the men had presented themselves to the king, and were seated in the hall.  Then Luciano commanded the nurse to bring in the child, thinking that if the father should be there the sense of paternity would make him give some sign. As the nurse carried the child down the hall everyone, as he passed, began to caress him and to give him, this one a fruit and that one a flower; but the infant, with a wave of his hand, refused them all.  When the nurse passed by the entrance door the child began to laugh and crow, and threw himself forward so lustily that he almost jumped out of the woman's arms, but she, not knowing that anyone was there, walked on down the hall. When she came back to the same place the child was more delighted than ever, laughing and pointing with his finger to the door; so that the king, who had already noticed the child's actions, called to the nurse and asked her who was behind the door.  The nurse, being somewhat confused, said that surely some beggar must be hidden there. By the king's command Peter was at once haled forth, and everybody recognized the town fool. But the child, who was close to him, stretched out his arms and clasped Peter round the neck and kissed him lovingly. The king, recognizing the sign, was stricken to the heart with grief, and having discharged the assembly, commanded that Peter and Luciana and the child should be put to death forthwith.  The queen, though assenting to this doom, was fearful lest the public execution of the victims might draw down upon the king the anger of the people; so she persuaded him to have made a huge cask into which the three might be put and cast into the sea to drift at random. Then, at least, no one might witness their dying agony.  This the king agreed to; and when the cask was made, the condemned ones were put therein, with a basket of bread and a flask of wine, and a drum of figs for the child, and thrust out into the rough sea, with the expectation that the waves would soon dash it to pieces against the rocks. But this was not to be their fate.  Peter's poor old mother, when she heard of her son's misfortune, died of grief in a few days; and the unhappy Luciana, tossed about by the cruel waves, and seeing neither sun nor moon, would have welcomed a similar fate. The child, since she had no milk to give it, had to be soothed to sleep with now and then a fig. But Peter seemed to care for nothing, and ate the bread and drank the wine steadily, laughing the while.  'Alas! alas!' cried Luciana in despair. 'You care nothing for this evil which you have brought upon me, a poor innocent girl. You eat and drink and laugh without a thought of the danger around us.  'Why,' replied Peter, 'this misfortune is more your own fault than mine. If you had not mocked me so, it would never have happened. But do not lose heart. Our troubles will soon be over.'  'I believe that,' cried Luciana, 'for the cask will soon be split on a rock, and then we must all be drowned.'  'No, no,' said Peter.' Calm yourself. I have a secret, and were you to know what it is, you would be vastly surprised and vastly delighted too, I believe.'  'What secret can you know,' said Luciana, 'which will avail us in such danger as this?'  'I will soon tell you,' Peter replied. 'I have a faithful servant, a great fish, who will do me any service I ask of him, and there is nothing he cannot do. I may as well tell you it was through his working that you became with child.'  'That I cannot believe,' said Luciana. And what may this fish of yours be called?'  'His name is Signor Tunny,' replied Peter.  'Then,' said Luciana, 'to put your fish to the test, I will ask you to transfer to me the power you exercise over him, and to command him to do my bidding instead of yours.'  'Be it as you will,' said Peter; and without more ado he called the tunny, who at once rose up near the cask, whereupon Peter commanded him to do everything that Luciana might require of him.  She at once exercised her power over the fish by ordering him to make the waves cast the cask ashore in a fair safe cleft in the rocks on an island, a short sail from her father's kingdom.  As soon as the fish had worked her will so far, she laid other and much harder tasks upon him. One was to change Peter from the ugly fool that he was into a clever, handsome gallant. Another was to have built for her forthwith a rich and sumptuous palace with lofty halls and chambers and girt with carven terraces. Within the court there was to be laid out a beautiful garden, full of trees which should bear, instead of fruit, pearls and precious stones, and in the midst of it two fountains, one of the freshest water and the other of the finest wine. All these wonders were wrought by the fish almost as soon as Luciana had spoken.  Now all this time the king and the queen were in deep misery in thinking of the cruel death they had contrived for Luciana and her child, how they had given their own flesh and blood to be eaten by the fishes. Therefore, to find some solace in their woe, they determined to go to Jerusalem and to visit the Holy Land. So they ordered a ship to be put in order for them, and furnished with all things suited to their state.  They set sail with a favoring wind, and before they had gone a hundred miles they came in sight of an island upon which they could see a stately palace, built a little above the level of the sea. Seeing that this palace was so fair and sumptuous, and standing, moreover, within Luciano's kingdom, they were seized with a longing to view it more closely. So, having put into a haven, they landed on the island.  Before they had come to the palace Luciana and Peter saw and recognized them, and, having gone forth to meet them, greeted them with a cordial welcome, but the king and queen did not know their hosts for the great change which had come over them.  The guests were taken first into the palace, which they examined in every part, praising loudly its great beauty, and then they were led by a secret staircase into the garden, the splendor of which pleased them so amazingly that they swore they had never at any time before looked upon a place so delightful.  In the center of this garden there stood a noble tree, which bore on one of its branches three golden apples. These the keeper of the garden was charged to guard jealously against robbers, and now, by some secret working which I cannot unravel, the finest of these apples was transported into the folds of the king's robe about his bosom, and there hidden.  Luciano and the queen were about to take their leave when the keeper approached and said to Luciana, 'Madam, the most beautiful of the three golden apples is missing, and I can find no trace of the thief.'  Luciana forthwith gave orders that the whole household should be searched, one by one, for such a loss as this was no light matter. The keeper, after he had searched thoroughly everyone, came back and told Luciana that the apple was nowhere to be found.  At these words Luciana fell into great confusion, and, turning to the king, said, 'Your majesty must not be wroth with me if I ask that even you allow yourself to be searched, for I prize the golden apple that is lost almost as highly as my life.'  The king, unsuspicious of any trick, and sure of his innocence, straightway loosened his robe, and lo! the golden apple fell from it to the ground.  The king stood as one dazed, ignorant as to how the golden apple could have come into his robe, and Luciana spoke, 'Sire, we have welcomed you to our house with all the worship fitting to your rank, and now, as a recompense, you would privily rob our garden of its finest fruit. Meseems you have proved yourself very ungrateful.'  The king, in his innocence, attempted to prove to her that he could not have taken the apple, and Luciana, seeing his confusion, knew that the time had come for her to speak, and reveal herself to her father.  'My lord,' she said, with the tears in her eyes, 'I am Luciana, your hapless daughter, whom you sentenced to a cruel death along with my child and Peter the fisher boy. Though I bore a child, I was never unchaste. Here is the boy, and here is he whom men were wont to call Peter the Fool. You wonder at this change. It has all been brought about by the power of a marvelous fish whose life Peter spared when he had caught it in his net. By this power Peter has been turned into the wisest of men, and the palace you see has been built. In the same way I became pregnant without knowledge of a man, and the golden apple was conveyed into the folds of your robe. I am as innocent of unchastity as you are of theft.'  When the king heard these words his eyes were opened, and he knew his child. Then, weeping with joy, they embraced each other, and all were glad and happy. After spending a few days on the island, they all embarked and returned together to Capraia, where with sumptuous feastings and rejoicings Peter was duly married to Luciana, and lived with her in great honor and contentment, until Luciano died, and then he became king in his stead.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
675,Peruonto,Giambattista Basile,Translation revised by D. L. Ashliman. © 2011.,"Giambattista Basile, Il Pentamerone; or, The Tale of Tales, translated by Richard Burton, vol. 1 (London: Henry and Company, 1893), pp. 30-39.","A good deed is never lost: whoever sows the seed of kindness meets with due reward, and whoever sows the seed of love gathers love in return. The favor which is shown to a grateful heart is never barren, and gratitude gives birth to gifts. Instances of these sayings occur continually in the deeds of mankind: and you will meet with an example of it in the tale that I am about to relate to you.  A countrywoman of Casoria, by the name of Ceccarella, had a son named Peruonto, who was the silliest body and the ugliest lump of flesh that nature had ever created; so that the unhappy mother always felt sad at heart, and cursed the day and the hour upon which she had given birth to this good-for-nothing, who was not worth a dog's hide. The unfortunate woman could cry out as much as she liked, but the ass never stirred to do her the lightest service.  At last, after screaming herself hoarse, and assailing him with all the epithets she could think of, she induced him to go to the forest and gather a fagot of wood, saying, 'It is nearly time that we should have something to eat. Run for this wood, that I may get ready somewhat: and forget not yourself on the way, but come back at once, that I may cook the needful so as to keep the life in us.'  Peruonto departed, and fared on like a monk among his brethren in a procession. Away he went, stepping as one treading down eggs, with the gait of a jackdaw, counting his paces as he went. At last he reached a certain part of the forest through which ran a streamlet, and nearby he saw three young girls lying on the grass, with a stone for a pillow, fast asleep, with the sun pouring its rays straight upon them. When Peruonto saw them, like a fountain amid a roaring fire, he took compassion upon them; and with the ax which he carried to cut the wood he severed some branches from the trees, and built a kind of arbor over them. Whilst he was busy so doing the young girls awoke (they were the daughters of a fairy), and perceiving the kindness and goodness of heart of Peruonto, in gratitude they gave him a charm, by which he might possess whatever he knew how to ask for.  Peruonto, having performed this action, continued faring towards the forest, where he cut down a fagot of wood so large that it would require a cart to carry it.  Seeing that it would be impossible for him to lift it, he sat upon it, saying, 'Would it not be a fine thing if only this fagot would carry me home?'  And behold, the fagot began to trot like a Besignano horse, and arriving before the king's palace, it began to wheel round, and prance, and curvet, so that Peruonto cried out aloud, enough to deafen all hearers. The young ladies who attended the king's daughter, whose name was Vastolla, happening to look out of the window and behold this marvel, hastened to call the princess, who, glancing out and observing the tricks played by the fagot, laughed until she fell backwards, which thing was unusual, and the young ladies were astonished at the sight, as the Lady Vastolla was by nature so melancholy that they never remembered to have seen her smile.  Peruonto lifted his head, and perceiving that they were mocking him, said, 'O Vastolla, may you be with child by me!' and thus saying, tightened his heels on the fagot, which at once moved away, and in an instant arrived home with a train of screaming children behind; and if his mother had not quickly shut the door, they would have slain him with stones.  In the meantime Vastolla, after a feeling of uneasiness, and unrest, and the delay of her monthly period, perceived that she was with child, and hid as long as possible her plight, until she was round as a cask.  The king, discovering her condition, was exceedingly angry, and fumed, and swore terrible oaths, and convened a meeting of the council, and thus spoke to them: ''You all know that the moon of my honor is wearing horns, and you all know that my daughter has furnished matter of which to write chronicles, or, even better, to chronicle my shame. You all know that to adorn my brow she has filled her belly; therefore tell me, advise me what I had better do. Methinks I had rather have her slain than have her give birth to a bastard race. I have a mind to let her feel rather the agonies of death than the labor of childbed. I have a mind to let her depart this world ere she bring bad seed into it.'  The ministers and advisers, who had made use of more oil than vinegar, answered him, saying, 'Truly she deserves a great punishment, and of the horns which she forces on your brow should the handle be made of the knife that shall slay her; but if we slay her now that she is with child, the villain who has been the principal cause of your disgust, and who has dressed you with horns right and left will escape unhurt. Let us await, therefore, until it comes to port, and then we are likely to know the root of this dishonor; and afterwards we will think and resolve, with a grain of salt, which course we should best follow.'  The king was pleased with this advice, perceiving in it sound sense, and therefore held his hand, and said, 'Let us await the issue of events.'  As heaven willed, the time came, and with little labor, at the first sound of the midwife's voice, and the first squeeze of the body, out sprang two male children like two golden apples.  The king, who was full of wrath, sent for his ministers and counselors, and said to them, 'My daughter has been brought to bed, and the time has come for her to die.'  The old sages answered (and all to gain time upon time), 'No, we will wait until the children get older, so as to be able by their favor to recognize their father.'  The king, not desiring his counselors to think him unjust, shrugged his shoulders and took it quietly, and patiently waited until the children were seven years of age, at which time he again sent for his counselors, and asked them for their advice.  One of them said, 'As you have not been able to know from your daughter who was the false coiner that altered the crown from your image, it is time that we seek to obliterate the stain. Command that a great banquet should be prepared, and ask all the grandees and noblemen of the city, and let us be watchful, and seek with our own eyes him to whom the children incline most by the inclination of nature, for that one without fail will be the father, and we will at once get hold of him like goat's excrement.'  The king was pleased with this advice. He gave orders for the banquet, invited all folk of any consequence, and after they had eaten their fill he asked them to stand in line and pass before the children, but they took as much notice of them as did Alexander's steed of the rabbits, so that the king became enraged and bit his lips with anger, and although he was not wanting in shoes, because of the tightness of those he was compelled to wear he stamped the ground with the excess of pain.  His advisers said to him, 'Softly, your majesty! Take heart. We will give another banquet in a short while, no more inviting the noblest of the land, but instead folk of the lower class, as women often attach themselves to the worst: and perchance we will meet with the seed of your wrath amid cutlers, comb-sellers, and other merchants of small wares, as we have not met with him among the noble and well-born.'  The king was pleased with this advice, and commanded the second banquet to be prepared, whereto came, by invited by a summons, all folk from Chiaja, all the rogues, all adventurers and fortune-hunters, all quick-witted, all ruffians, and villains, and apron-wights that were to be found in the city, who, taking seat like unto noblemen at a long table spread with rich abundance, began straightway to stuff themselves.  Now it so happened that Ceccarella, having heard the ban which invited folk to this banquet, began to urge Peruonto to go to it also, and so much did she say and do that at last she prevailed upon him to depart, and he went. He had hardly entered the place of feasting, when the two pretty children ran to him, and embraced him, and received him with great joy, and sported and played with him.  The king, beholding this sight, pulled out his own beard, seeing that the winning ticket of this lottery had fallen to an ugly brute, the sight of whom made one sick. He was shaggy-headed, owl-eyed, had a nose like a parrot's beak, and a mouth like a fish. He was so tattered and torn, that no part of his body was hidden.  Sighing heavily, the king said, 'Has ever any one seen anything like this, that that light-o'-brains daughter mine should have it in her head to fall in love with this sea-monster? Has ever any one seen one that could take to the heel of such a hairy foot? Ah, infamous woman, what blind and false metamorphoses are these: to become a strumpet for a pig, so that I should become a ram? But what am I waiting for? What am I thinking of? Let them feel the weight of my just chastisement. Let them be punished as they deserve, and let them bear the penalty that you will adjudge. Take them out of my sight, for I cannot endure them.'  The ministers all took counsel together, and resolved that the princess and the malefactor, with the two children, should be put into a cask and thrown into the sea, so that they should thus end their days without the king soiling his hands with his own blood.  No sooner was the sentence pronounced than the cask was brought, and all four were put therein; but before they were thrown in, some of the handmaidens of Princess Vastolla, who were weeping bitterly, put inside the hogshead raisins and dried figs, so that they could live for a little time. Then the cask was closed, and taken away, and flung into the sea, and it kept sailing on wherever the wind blew it.  Meanwhile Vastolla, weeping with sore weeping, her eyes running two streamlets of tears, said to Peruonto, 'What great misfortune is ours that our grave should be Bacchus' cradle! Oh, could I but have known who it was that worked in this body to have me thrown into this prison! Alas! I have come to a sad end, without knowing the why or wherefore. O you cruel one, tell me, tell me, what magic art did you use, what wand did thou wave, to bring me to this pass, to be shut herein by this hogshead's hoops? Tell me, tell me, what devil tempted you to put into me the invisible pipe, and gain nothing by it but this dark spectacle?  Peruonto, who had for a time listened and pretended not to hear, answered at last, 'If thou want know how it came to pass, give me some raisins and figs.'  The princess, desiring to draw from him something, gave him a handful of each; and as soon as he had eaten them, he began to recount all that had happened to him with the three young girls and the fagot of wood, and how at last he had passed under her window, and how, when she laughed at him, he wished her to be with child by him.  When the lady Vastolla heard this, she took heart, and said to him, 'Why should we make exit of life inside this hogshead? Why not wish for this vessel to become a splendid ship, so that we may escape from this peril and arrive in good port?'  Peruonto answered, 'Give me some figs and raisins, if you want this to happen.'  Vastolla at once satisfied his gluttony, so that he should be willing to speak, and like a carnival fisherwoman, with the raisins and figs she fished for the words fresh out of his body. Peruonto said the words desired by the princess, and at once the cask became a ship, with all the sails ready for sailing, and with all the sailors that were needed for the ship's service; and there were to be seen some lowering the sheets, some hauling the shrouds, some holding the rudder, some setting the studding-sails, some mounting to the upper-main-topsail, one crying, 'Put the ship about!' and another, 'Put the helm up!' and one blowing the trumpet, and others firing the guns, and some doing one thing, and some another, so long as Vastolla remained on board the ship, swimming in a sea of sweetness.  It was now the hour when the moon played with the sun at going and coming, and Vastolla said to Peruonto, 'Handsome youth of mine, wish that this ship may become a palace, so that we may be more secure. You know the proverb, 'Praise the sea, but dwell on shore.''  Peruonto answered, 'If you want this to happen, give me some figs and raisins,' and she at once gave him what he asked for.  Peruonto, having eaten, wished his wish, and the ship became a beautiful palace, adorned in all points, and furnished with such splendor that nothing was wanting. So that the princess, who would have parted with life easily but a short time before, now would not have exchanged her place with the highest lady in the world, seeing that she was served and entreated as a queen.  Then, to put a seal, upon her good fortune, she begged Peruonto to obtain the grace of becoming handsome and polished, so that they could be happy together, for although the proverb says, 'Better a pig for a husband than an emperor for a friend,' if he could change his looks she would take it as the greatest good fortune.  Peruonto once again answered, 'Give me some figs and raisins, if you want this to happen,'  Vastolla at once responded with the raisins and figs, so that as soon as the wish was spoken he became from a sparrow a bullfinch, from a ghoul a narcissus, and from a hideous mask a handsome youth. Vastolla, seeing such a transformation, was beside herself with joy, and throwing her arms around him, tasted the sweet juice of happiness.  Now it so happened that at this same time the king, who from the day on which he had pronounced the cruel sentence had not lifted his eyes from the ground, was entreated to go hunting by his courtiers, who though thus to cheer him up.  He went, but was surprised by nightfall. Sighting from afar a light from a lantern at one of the windows of the palace, he sent one of his followers to see if they would receive him there, and he was answered that he could shelter there for the night.  The king accepted the invitation, and mounting the steps, entered, and going from room to room, he could see no person living except the two children, who kept at his side, saying, 'Grandfather! grandfather! grandfather!'  The king wondered with greatest wonder, and marveled with greatest marvel. Being wearied, he seated himself by a table, when he beheld spread on it by invisible hands a white cloth and divers dishes of food, of which he partook, and wines of good vintage, of which he drank truly as a king, served by the two pretty children, never ceasing: and whilst he was eating, a band of musicians played beautifully, touching even the marrow of his bones. When he was finished eating, a bed suddenly appeared made of cloth of gold; and having had his boots pulled off, he took his rest, and all his courtiers did the same, after having eaten well at a hundred tables, which had been made ready in other rooms.  As soon as morning came, the king got ready to depart, and was going to take with him also the little ones, when Vastolla and her husband appeared, and falling at his feet, asked his pardon, and recounted to him all their fortune. The king, seeing that he had won two grandsons that were like two grains of gold and two priceless gems, and a son-in-law like a jinn, embraced first one and then the other, and took them with him to the city, and commanded great festivals and rejoicings to be made for this great gain, which lasted many days, solemnly confessing to himself that 'Man proposes, but God disposes.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,The Fable of the Old Woman and of the Wulf,"Aesop / Avianus (printed by William Caxton, 1484)","Caxton attributes this fable to Avianus, a Latin writer of fables (ca. 400 A.D.)","The Fables of Aesop as First Printed by William Caxton in 1484 with Those of Avian, Alfonso, and Poggio, now again edited and induced by Joseph Jacobs, vol. 2: Text and Glossary (London: D. Nutt, 1889), p. 216.","One should not believe everything that one hears, as evidenced by this fable about the old woman who said to her crying child: 'If you don't stop crying, I'll throw you to the wolf, and he'll eat you up!'  Hearing this, the wolf stayed by the gate and hoped to eat the woman's child, but he only grew more and more hungry. Finally he gave up and returned to his den in the woods. The she-wolf berated him for not bringing home any meat.  The wolf answered her: 'It is because the old woman deceived me. She promised to give me her child to eat, but she never did so. Thus men should never trust a woman.'      It is only a fool who puts his hope and trust in a woman. Be wise and never trust them.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,The Wolf and the Nurse,Babrius (translated by James Davies),NA,"The Fables of Babrius, translated into English verse from the text of Sir G. C. Lewis by James Davies (London: Lockwood and Company, 1860), no. 16, p. 19.","A country nurse, to fright her babe to peace, Said, 'Wolf shall have thee, or thy cries must cease.'  The wolf o'erheard, believed the scolding crone, And stay'd in hopes to find the feast his own. But evening came; the babe was hush'd to rest: The wolf still gaped, with rav'ning hunger prest. At last his hopes to utter dulness grew: Then to his anxious helpmate he withdrew.  'How cam'st thou empty?' said she. He replied, 'Because upon a female I relied.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,The Crying Babe,Geffrey Whitney,NA,"Geffrey [Geoffrey] Whitney, A Choice of Emblemes, and Other Devises (Leyden: Francis Raphelengius, 1586), p. 162.","The crying babe, the mother sharply threates, Except he ceas'd, he should to wolfe bee throwne: Which being hard, the wolfe at windowe waites, And made account that child should bee his owne: Till at the lengthe, agayne he hard her say Feare not sweete babe, thou shalt not bee his pray.  For, if he come in hope so sucke thy blood, Wee wil him kill, before he shall departe: With that the wolfe retorned to the wood, And did exclayme thus wise with heavie hart: Oh Jupiter? What people now doe live, That promise much, and yet will nothing give.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,"The Wolf, the Mother, and Her Child (1)","Aesop (retold by Jean de La Fontaine, translated by Elizur Wright)",NA,"The Fables of La Fontaine, translated from the French by Elizur Wright, a new edition with notes by J. W. M. Gibbs (London: George Bell and Sons, 1888), book 4, fable 16, pp. 91-92.","This wolf another brings to mind, Who found dame Fortune more unkind, In that the greedy, pirate sinner, Was balk'd of life as well as dinner.  As saith our tale, a villager Dwelt in a by, unguarded place; There, hungry, watch'd our pillager For luck and chance to mend his case. For there his thievish eyes had seen All sorts of game go out and in -- Nice sucking calves, and lambs and sheep; And turkeys by the regiment, With steps so proud, and necks so bent, They'd make a daintier glutton weep. The thief at length began to tire Of being gnaw'd by vain desire.  Just then a child set up a cry: 'Be still,' the mother said, 'or I Will throw you to the wolf, you brat!' 'Ha, ha!' thought he, 'what talk is that? The gods be thank'd for luck so good!' And ready at the door he stood, When soothingly the mother said, 'Now cry no more, my little dear; That naughty wolf, if he comes here. Your dear papa shall kill him dead.'  'Humph!' cried the veteran mutton-eater. 'Now this, now that! Now hot, now cool! Is this the way they change their metre? And do they take me for a fool? Some day, a natting in the wood, That young one yet shall be my food.'  But little time has he to dote On such a feast; the dogs rush out And seize the caitiff by the throat; And country ditchers, thick and stout, With rustic spears and forks of iron, The hapless animal environ.  'What brought you here, old head?' cried one. He told it all, as I have done.  'Why, bless my soul!' the frantic mother said, -- 'You, villain, eat my little son! And did I nurse the darling boy, Your fiendish appetite to cloy?'  With that they knock'd him on the head. His feet and scalp they bore to town, To grace the seigneur's hall, Where, pinn'd against the wall, This verse completed his renown: --      'Ye honest wolves, believe not all     That mothers say, when children squall!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,A Nurse and a Wolfe,Aesop (translated by Roger L'Estrange),NA,"Roger L'Estrange, Fables of Æsop And other Eminent Mythologists: With Morals and Reflexions (London, 1692), no. 218, pp. 191-92.","As a Wolfe was Hunting up and down for his Supper, he pass'd by a Door where a Little Child was Bawling, and an Old Woman Chiding it. Leave your Vixen-Tricks, says the Woman or I'l throw ye to the Wolfe. The Wolfe Over-heard her, and Waited a pretty While, in hope the Woman would be as good as her Word; but No Child coming, away goes the Wolfe for That Bout. He took his Walk the Same Way again toward the Evening, and the Nurse he found had Chang'd her Note; for she was Then Muzzling, and Cokesing of it. That's a Good Dear, says she, If the Wolf comes for My Child We'll e'en Beat his Brains out. The Wolf went Muttering away upon't. There's No Meddling with People, says he, that say One Thing and Mean Another.  The MORAL 'Tis Fear more then Love that makes Good Men, as well as Good Children, and when Fair Words, and Good Councel will not Prevail upon us, we must be Frighted into our Duty. REFLEXION THE Heart and Tongue of a Woman are commonly a Great way asunder. And it may bear Another Moral; which is, that 'tis with Froward Men, and Froward Factions too, as 'tis with Froward Children, They'll be sooner Quieted by Fear, and Rough Dealing, then by any Sense of Duty or Good Nature. There would be no Living in This World without Penal Laws, and Conditions. And Do or Do not, This or That at your Peril, is as Reasonable, and Necessary in Families as it is in Governments. It is a Truth Imprinted in the Hearts of All Mankind, that the Gibbets, Pillories, and the Whipping-Posts make more Converts then the Pulpits: As the Child did more here for fear of the Wolfe, then for the Love of the Nurse.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,A Nurse and Froward Child,Aesop (printed by Samuel Richardson),NA,"Æsop's Fables: With Instructive Morals and Reflections, Abstracted from All Party Considerations, Adapted to All Capacities; and Design'd to Promote Religion, Morality, and Universal Benevolence (London: Printed by S. Richardson, 1753), no. 166, pp. 130-31.","A Wolf prowling about for his Supper, pass'd by a Door where a little Child was bawling, and a Nurse chiding it.  'Leave your Vixen-Tricks,' says the Woman, 'or I'll throw you to the Wolf.'  The Wolf, hearing this, waited a pretty while, in hope the Woman would be as good as her Word. But the Child being frighted into better Temper, the Tone was turned, and he had the Mortification to hear the Nurse say, 'That's a good Dear! If the Wolf comes for my Child, we'll e'en beat his Brains out.'  Upon which the Wolf went muttering away as fas as he could.  Moral An ingenuous Spirit will be wrought upon by fair Words; but a perverse one must be terrified into its Duty, if soft means will not do.  Reflection Terrors are as necessary to quiet froward Spirits, as Praises and Rewards are to encourage the Tractable. But yet we must apply this principally to grown Persons; for, as the Children or Infants, there cannot be a more pernicious Error than to terrify them, as is the comm Practice of foolish Nurses, with Bugbears, Hobgoblins, Raw-heads and Bloody-bones, &c. which often fix such Impressions of Fear and Apprehension on the Infant, as can never be rooted out of the Man.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,The Nurse and the Wolf (1),Aesop (printed for Thomas Bewick),NA,"The Fables of Æsop, and Others, with designs on wood by Thomas Bewick (Newcastle: Printed by E. Walker for T. Bewick and son, 1818), pp. 265-66.","A Nurse, who was endeavouring to quiet a froward child, among other things threatened to throw it out of doors to the Wolf, if it did not leave off crying. A Wolf, who chanced to be prowling near the door just at the time, heard the expression, and believing the woman to be in earnest, waited a long while about the house, in expectation of having her words made good. But at last the child, wearied with its own perverseness, fell asleep, and the Wolf was forced to return back into the woods, empty and supperless.  The Fox meeting him, and surprized to see him going home so thin and disconsolate, asked him what the matter was, and how he came to speed no better that night?  'Ah! Do not ask me,' says he. 'I was so silly as to believe what the Nurse said, and have been disappointed.'  Application Many of the old moralists have interpreted this Fable as a caution never to trust a woman: a barbarous inference, which neither the obvious sense of the apologue, nor the disposition of the softer sex will warrant. For though some women may be fickle and unstable, yet the generality exceed their calumniators in truth and constancy, and have more frequently to complain of being the victims, than to be arraigned as the authors of broken vows.  To us this Fable appears to mean little more than merely to shew how easily inclined we are, in all our various expectations through life, to delude ourselves into a belief of any thing which we desire to be true.  The lover interprets every smile of his mistress in his own favour, and is then perhaps neglected. The beauty believes all mankind are dying for her, and is then deserted by her train of admirers. The followers of the great reckon a smile or a nod very auspicious omens, and deceive themselves with groundless hopes of employment or promotion, in expectation of which, they, like the Wolf at the Nurse's door, dangle away the time that might be usefully employed elsewhere, and at last are obliged to retire disappointed and hungry, crying out perhaps against the perfidy of those in power, instead of blaming their own sanguine credulity.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,The Nurse and the Wolf (2),Aesop (translated by Samuel Croxall),NA,"The Fables of Æsop, translated into English by Samuel Croxall, with new applications, morals, etc. by George Fyler Townsend, 2nd edition (London: Frederick Warne and Company, 1869), no. 70, pp. 163-65..","A Nurse, who was endeavouring to quiet a wayward, self-willed child, among other attempts, threatened to throw him out of doors to the Wolf, if he did not leave off crying. A Wolf, who chanced to be prowling near the door just at that time, heard the words, and, believing the woman to be in earnest, waited a long while about the house in expectation of seeing her words made good. But at last the child, wearied with its own importunities, fell asleep, and the poor Wolf was forced to return again to the woods without his expected supper.  The Fox meeting him, and surprised to see him going home so thin and disconsolate, asked him what was the matter, and how he came to speed no better that night.  'Ah, do not ask me,' says he; 'I was so silly as to believe what the Nurse said, and have been disappointed.'  Moral Be not too ready to give credence to the assertions of an angry man.  Application There is no custom more common, nor at the same time more hurtful and pernicious, than that which prevails among nurses and persons of inferior minds, of telling children false stories and resorting to threats, with the intention of frightening them into good conduct. This habit is sinful in itself, as a departure from the strictness of truth, and is often most fatal in its consequences.  There are many well-authenticated instances on record in which a permanent injury in after years has been caused to the child; and many lasting fears, prejudices, and antipathies have arisen from the impressions created in the infant mind by these idle tales and threats.  Dean Swift, in his account of the kingdom of Lilliput, relates that 'nurses thus misconducting themselves were first soundly scourged, and then expelled from the island.'  Let it, then, be the first care of mothers or nurses never either to say to a child anything which is not strictly true, nor in a fit of anger to indulge in threats which they have no intention to carry out. If they adopt the conduct of this foolish Nurse in the fable, and conjure up an imaginary wolf or ghost to help them in the momentary emergency of a naughty fit, they will probably find, when it is too late, that they have thoughtlessly cowed the spirit of the child, and have planted in his mind thorns and fears which it will be beyond the power of their arguments or philosophy to modify or remove.      One angry moment often does     What we repent for years;     It works the wrong we ne'er make right     By sorrow or by tears.  This fable, however, refers to the conduct of the Wolf rather than of the Nurse. It teaches the folly of those who take too much notice of words spoken in a passion. Angry persons say more than they mean, and generally, as soon as the moment of calm reflection comes, are themselves sorry for their violence and indiscretion.      Oh, how the passions, insolent and strong,     L'ear our weak minds their rapid course along!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,The Mother and the Wolf,Aesop (translated by George Fyler Townsend),NA,"Three Hundred Æsop's Fables, literally translated from the Greek by George Fyler Townsend (London: George Routledge and Sons), pp. 201-201.","A famished Wolf was prowling about in the morning in search of food.  As he passed the door of a cottage built in the forest, he heard a Mother say to her child, 'Be quiet, or I will throw you out of the window, and the Wolf shall eat you.'  The Wolf sat all day waiting at the door. In the evening he heard the same woman, fondling her child and saying: 'He is quiet now, and if the Wolf should come, we will kill him.'  The Wolf, hearing these words, went home, gaping with cold and hunger. On his reaching his den, Mistress Wolf inquired of him why he returned wearied and supperless, so contrary to his wont.  He replied: 'Why, forsooth! -- because I gave credence to the words of a woman!'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,The Nurse and the Wolf (3),Aesop (retold by Joseph Jacobs),NA,"The Fables of Æsop, selected, told anew, and their history traced by Joseph Jacobs (London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1894), pp. 108-109.","'Be quiet now,' said an old Nurse to a child sitting on her lap. 'If you make that noise again I will throw you to the Wolf.'  Now it chanced that a Wolf was passing close under the window as this was said. So he crouched down by the side of the house and waited. 'I am in good luck today,' thought he. 'It is sure to cry soon, and a daintier morsel I haven t had for many a long day.'  So he waited, and he waited, and he waited, till at last the child began to cry, and the Wolf came forward before the window, and looked up to the Nurse, wagging his tail. But all the Nurse did was to shut down the window and call for help, and the dogs of the house came rushing out.  'Ah,' said the Wolf as he galloped away, 'Enemies' promises were made to be broken.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,"The Wolf, the Mother, and Her Child (2)",Aesop (translated by V. S. Vernon Jones),NA,"Æsop's Fables, a new translation by V. S. Vernon Jones, (London: William Heinemann, 1916), p. 89.","A hungry Wolf was prowling about in search of food. By and by, attracted by the cries of a Child, he came to a cottage.  As he crouched beneath the window, he heard the Mother say to the Child, 'Stop crying, do! or I'll throw you to the Wolf.'  Thinking she really meant what she said, he waited there a long time in the expectation of satisfying his hunger.  In the evening he heard the Mother fondling her Child and saying, 'If the naughty Wolf comes, he shan't get my little one: Daddy will kill him.'  The Wolf got up in much disgust and walked away. 'As for the people in that house,' said he to himself, 'you can't believe a word they say.'",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
75,The Wolf and the Babe,Ambrose Bierce,NA,"Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1899), p. 172.","A Famishing Wolf, passing the door of a cottage in the forest, heard a Mother say to her babe: 'Be quiet, or I will throw you out of the window, and the wolves will get you.'  So he waited all day below the window, growing more hungry all the time. But at night the Old Man, having returned from the village club, threw out both Mother and Child.",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16
779J*,Friday,Russia,"Ralston's source: Aleksandr Afanasyev.  Afanasyev (the transliteration Afanas'ev as well as other spellings are also used) was the Slavic counterpart to the brothers Grimm. Between the years 1855 and 1873 he published some 640 Russian and Ukrainian folktales. Note by Ralston: 'Friday ... was undoubtedly consecrated by the old Slavonians to some goddess akin to Venus or Freyja, and her worship in ancient times accounts for the superstitions now connected with the name of Friday.' (p. 198)","W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-Tales (London: Smith, Elder, and Company, 1873), p. 200.","There was once a certain woman who did not pay due reverence to Mother Friday, but set to work on a distaff full of flax, combing and whirling it. She span away till dinner time, then suddenly sleep fell upon her -- such a deep sleep! And when she had gone to sleep, suddenly the door opened and in came Mother Friday, before the eyes of all who were there, clad in a white dress, and in such a rage! And she went straight up to the woman who had been spinning, scooped up from the floor a handful of the dust that had fallen out of the flax, and began stuffing and stuffing that woman's eyes full of it! And when she had stuffed them full, she went off in a rage -- disappeared without saying a word.  When the woman awoke, she began squalling at the top of her voice about her eyes, but couldn't tell what was the matter with them.  The other women, who had been terribly frightened, began to cry out, 'Oh, you wretch, you! You've brought a terrible punishment on yourself from Mother Friday.'  Then they told her all that had taken place.  She listened to it all, and then began imploring, 'Mother Friday, forgive me! Pardon me, the guilty one! I'll offer you a taper, and I'll never let friend or foe dishonor you, Mother!'  Well, what do you think? During the night, back came Mother Friday and took the dust out of that woman's eyes, so that she was able to get about again. It's a great sin to dishonor Mother Friday -- combing and spinning flax, forsooth!",Ashliman's Folktexts,2022-05-16